Four Play

She tells me she was very pleasantly surprised that Harry took close to ten minutes to cum. It gave her plenty of time to ride his cock. He spent all of that time playing with her, holding her, and even licking her hard nipples.

Afterward, she cleaned his cock off with her tongue, licking away all of their mixed cum. Then she lie beside him. Harry was very kind to her, he allowed her to use his shoulder for her pillow, which let her cuddle close to Harry all night long. She drifted away with her hand still on his balls. And his hand on her tight bottom.

In the morning, when she woke before Harry, she decided to tease him awake. She swallowed all of his cock. He awoke with a very loud, and sweet moan, his entire cock in Joey's throat. He did not object.

He tried to toy with her body, but couldn't reach too much of her, so she turned to a "69" position to give him a good view of her pussy and put her body where he could amuse himself with it. She kept sucking on his cock. It took him around ten minutes this time as well. All of it spent with Joey rhythmically sucking on his cock with slow, and full-length, strokes.

He came in her throat, "cheating" her out of the taste of most of his cum. After his wake up blow job, he seemed to be very happy. He definitely was grinning from ear to ear. He asked her how she could possibly swallow all of his cock like that. It's something Megan has never done. Not even come that close to. She always chokes around the two-thirds mark. I make a mental note to train Megan to suck a cock while I have her.

Now they're going to share a shower, and Joey has already gotten Harry's permission to wash him. She's going to make it a shower to remember. And she hopes that he'll choose to wash her as well. She's eager for the feel of his strong hands on her body.

Today Harry and Megan have booked a day cruise. It's one of several that operate out of Dauphin Island where they're staying. They're smaller boats, taking anywhere from one to about a dozen passengers out. They'll sail around in the gulf, and they're supposed to stop at a deserted island for a picnic lunch. Joey, after going through all of Megan's things while she unpacked both of their suitcases for them, has selected Megan's skimpiest bikini. She's going to wear a sundress over it, but "it will barely cover my butt!" Harry, she thinks, is going to like it. "And if I can find a chance, I am so going to give him something to remember on that boat or island, my Queen. So remember." Joey adds quietly, telling me it's a surprise for Harry.

She tells me that the conversation between them has been very easy, despite the age difference. Harry works in loss prevention. Joey is hoping for a career in law enforcement, but not as a beat cop. Something that pays a little better, and is a little different. Maybe a social worker for the DOC or a parole officer, she thinks. But it gives them a shared interest. And Harry has plenty of work to talk about. He likes boats, too, which is why Megan picked the cruise for today. Joey doesn't know anything about boats, but Harry has been eagerly telling her all about them, and she's been paying close attention and trying hard to remember what he teaches her. She wants to be able to have a real conversation with him, and to me, it sounds like she's doing a good job of it.

She thanks me for giving her to such a "hunky" man. I know Harry isn't exactly a hunk. Joey does, too. But she also knows that Harry can hear what she's saying to me, and he'll like hearing that. She doesn't need to tell me any of that. I know.

I tell her that if I haven't summoned them back so that I can return Megan to him, to call me again in the morning. Joey says she will, and adds for Harry to hear that she hopes I don't return Megan too soon.

Chapter 07: The Punishment Continues

My two bitches haven't slept a wink. That's obvious the moment I go into the playroom. They're standing almost as I left them. They're in the same place. Only now they look half dead on their feet. They're as much hanging from their chains as they are standing on exhausted legs.

And they are a mess. The candle has long since burned out. I figured it would burn about half of the night, around four hours. Then there wouldn't be anything left to burn. But it was long enough. The wax covers the mousetrap. It covers their nipples. It's well onto Casey's ample breasts. And it's onto Megan's breasts as much as she has the breasts for. A rivulet of the wax has even run down their chests, between their breasts. I'll bet they felt that. Maybe that was all the squealing coming from this room last night? Hot wax burns. Especially on sensitive nipples.

Neither is standing anything close to still. Both are fidgeting hard on their feet. Casey is crying loudly. Megan is more breathing deep, whiny breaths. Both can't keep their bottoms still. Above their heads, the enema bag is still ¾ full.

Which means that it's ¼, or one liter, empty. And that fluid only had one place to go. The only thing I can't tell is which woman got the worst of it. But that doesn't matter. The tube will balance the enema by the internal pressure of their bowels, not volume. Both women are feeling just as full as the other. Both of their rectums have the same amount of pressure swelling inside them. Which means both are just as anxious for a potty break as the other. Judging by the misery on their faces, I'd bet they'd fight over the single toilet if I gave them the chance to.

"Are you stupid, skanky bitches going to behave your naughty butts if I start letting you down?"

"Yes, my Queen!" Both answer immediately and surely. Both answer in very distressed voices, too. Voices that scream out how badly they're suffering.

I have to start with the mousetrap. That's going to have to come off before anything else. And it's going to take some work. I have Sophie fetch me a plastic scraper. I use it to scrape some of the wax away from the snapping jaws. Then I wedge it under one jaw and pry the jaw up until the rest of the wax breaks free. Both of their nipples immediately fall free of the jaw. I free the other nipple and hand the mouse trap over to Sophie. She'll clean the wax off of it later.

Sophie gets me the step stool again and I have her climb up on it and unlock their hands. As soon as each one's hands are unlocked from the chain, I tell them to put their cuffed hands behind their necks. Both do.

It leaves me only the enema nozzles to remove. I tell both women to turn around and show me their assholes. Neither hesitates to offer their bottom up this time. Both eagerly want that still-dripping nozzle out of their butt. I start with Megan, figuring she's the one less like to lose control of herself. I tell her that accidents are not allowed. If she has one, both of them will be spending tonight repeating this enema, since obviously one of them didn't learn her lesson. Then I use the syringe to deflate the balloon. Once that's done, the nozzle very easily pulls from Megan's tightly cinched asshole. Megan stays put while I take the Nozzle out of Casey's bottom, too. Sophie cleans up the hanging bag and tubing for me.

I tell the women to stand up and face me. "Are you two bitches still feeling like prissy modest bitches, or are you ready to go potty now?"

"May we please have permission to go potty now, my Queen?" Both of them answer, almost in unison. Casey lags just a syllable behind Megan, obviously repeating whatever Megan says. "We promise not to be prissy bitches, Ma'am! Please, my Queen, may we please be allowed to go potty now?" They both sound desperately eager.

I smile so wide. "No," I say firmly. I watch as the looks of hope vanish from their faces, replaced by looks of nervousness. I'm sure both of them are wondering just how much longer I'm going to make them wait. How much longer they can manage to wait. They both have very, unbearably, full bottoms. I don't want to imagine how strong the urge to run for that toilet is. How much pressure those assholes are straining to hold in.

"I smell skank!" I scold firmly. "One, or both, of you two bitches has been such a total slut last night. I can't imagine how, not with those bottoms filling up so fully and all that hot wax burning those tender nipples. But it smells like someone was thinking about that sloppy skank pit between those thighs despite all of the misery you endured in my dungeon! I won't bother to ask which of you worthless bitches has been slutty.

"I don't care." I smile a very evil, wide smirk. "You can both be whipped for it." then I turn aside and switch to my sweet voice, "slave, fetch me a proper cane for these peasant bitches." I watch as both of the women quivers when they hear me call for a cane.

Sophie gets me a real cane. This one is about three feet long and made of bamboo. I don't use it too often. I have to be careful with this one. It's imported from Singapore, where they know what a cane is. This one can slice flesh with a single stroke. And I don't want to damage my toys like that. I never have. Even when I a preschooler I always took good care of my toys. I still do. I'd never intentionally break one.

Four very nervous eyes lock on the cane. Even the experienced Megan looks nervous when she sees it. I know Alexei has a few canes himself, so it's a fair bet Megan knows what a cane is like. And this is clearly one bad cane.

Sophie sets a small stool in the center of the room. I point to it and tell Megan to go to the stool. To stand facing it with her feet together. Then to lean over, her back flat, and her hands on the stool. Her hands are to be flat on it, not gripping the edges, with her fingers spread.

I tell Sophie to watch Megan's hands and feet. Both feet are to stay flat on the floor. If so much as a toe, or a heel, or any other part of a foot, comes off the floor, or any part of a hand comes off the stool, the bitch will start her whipping over again. I tell that all to Megan, telling her that I expect her to stay still and accept that those two have earned a whipping. "Welcome to my dungeon, bitch."

Megan walks over to the stool with very tiny steps, keeping her thighs close together and her cheeks squished up. Her steps are not just uncomfortable from the enema filling her bowel. And that's going to be making her very uncomfortable as she moves. Even the smallest movement is enough that her strained bowel wants to change the way it's sitting in her body, to flex slightly. But now it's too rigid and hard to move. So it just presses against those nerves and makes her urge that much more unbearable. She almost cries as she walks.

Megan very slowly bends over and positions herself for the whipping. I stand there, tapping my foot to hurry her along. Once she's in place, I ask her if she's been slutty. "I'm sorry, my Queen!" Megan sobs out, "I'm a skanky slut, Ma'am! I just couldn't help myself, Ma'am!"

She wouldn't have dared lie to me. There would have no hope in it. I can already see that the fur atop her flat mound is soaked with her honey. Fresh honey, too. I know that pussy has got to be hot and aching now. She has to be feeling it. Enough that she will know I can see some signs of her arousal. And I hope she knows me well enough to know I'd look if she denied it.

"Five strokes for being a gutter slut in my Queendom."

Megan gasps in a very nervous, and noisy, breath. She quivers again. "Yes, my Queen..." Megan hesitantly accepts her punishment.

I swat her bottom. For this cane, it's a light stroke. It lands with an ear-splitting crack that has Casey jumping across the room. It sears a deep red line of a welt across both of her taut cheeks. A welt that going to take a day or so to fade away. It's exactly what I wanted. A painful whipping, but not one that does any lasting damage. I want her to look untouched by the time I give her back to Harry.

Megan screams as the stroke lands across her globes. It's only the first stroke, but it already has her bawling. She tenses hard and suddenly as she feels it's biting sting slice into her bottom. So tense that her feet almost rise up onto her toes. She has to fight herself to keep those feet on the floor. She sobs for a few seconds. "One stroke, my Queen. Thank you for not allowing me to get away with acting like a gutter slut, my Queen. May I please the next stroke I deserve, my Queen?"

I swat her bottom again. She screams even louder. I think she even bawls a little more pitifully, but it's hard to tell. She was already bawling like a baby. Her bottom snaps into high gear, thrashing around as she fights to keep her feet on the floor. It lets me see the two bright red lines across those taut and rounded globes. She counts her stroke.

I swat her bottom again. She cries out as loudly as ever. Her bottom snaps forward with the strike, and stays forward, away from the whip, as it thrashes wildly around. Now with three stripes across those globes.

I give her the two more strokes she has coming. There's not much more she can do to show them. By the third it was already taking every bit of strength she has to stay put for them. And she was already screaming and crying her hardest. Canes hurt. There's no getting around that. Not that Id' want to. These bitches are here for punishment, not a picnic.

I tell her to go back to her place and to stop and apologize to Casey as she does. She obediently stops right in front of Casey. "I'm sorry, cunt, that I'm so slutty that I got us both whipped. I'm so sorry, cunt. I hope you'll forgive me, I didn't want to be such a slut! I just can't help myself!" Still sobbing hard, Megan takes her place beside Casey.

I summon Casey up for her whipping. She very reluctantly bends over for it. I ask her if she's been acting like a gutter slut, too. She tells me she hasn't. The liar! "You lying bitch!" I snap firmly. "Don't you think I can see how wet your skank pit is, cunt? If it was any wetter you'd' be dripping all over my floor!"

I quickly, and very lightly, put the pad of a single finger atop Casey's slit, pressing it softly against the hard knot of folds that hides her clit. Casey almost jumps off her feet as she cries out a very needy, and very hot, "OOH-MM!" She shivers hard, too.

"See what I mean, cunt? You can't even stop being a gutter slut long enough to get your whipping! You'll get seven. Five for being a gutter slut, and two more for lying about it."

I snap the cane across Casey's looser cheeks. The softness doesn't really make a difference. It would if those globes were fat or flabby, then they'd have some padding on them. But Casey's cheeks aren't either. It's just the looseness of skin that's lost in elasticity with age. It does make the crack a little louder, though.

Casey handles it badly. She screams out as loud, and as agonizingly, as she possibly can. Her body stiffens hard, her bottom snapping forward. She lets her bottom move too far and too fast. I know it the instant I see her bottom darting forward away from the cane. I even see her elbows flex as they give.

"The slutty bitch's feet moved, Mistress!" Sophie blurts out in horror, but with a smirk on her face.

"I guess we'll start over then." I calmly announce in a loud voice to make sure Casey hears it over her sobbing cry.

"Please, Ma'am, please, Ma'am, Please! Oh my G-d, Ma'am, please! I'm sorry! Please, it hurts too much! Please, my Queen, please, I can't handle another stroke of that cane, Ma'am! Please, Ma'am, I'm sorry for being a slut! I'm sorry for lying to you! I just didn't want you to know that I'm a gutter slut! Please, Ma'am, there's no way I can handle another stroke, please don't make me! Please, my Queen, please stop whipping me! Oh, G-d, please, my Queen! I'll take any punishment you want me to! I don't care, just please don't make take another stroke of that cane!"

"Now you have eight strokes coming, cunt. One more for begging when you were told to be silent. I suggest you behave, cunt. Unless you really are enjoying your whipping and want to drag it out."

I swat Casey's bottom again. Casey screams just as loudly. She tenses as sharply, and her bottom thrusts away as wiggles. Both her knees and elbows buckle for a long moment. But her feet stay flat on the floor. Finally, after close to half a minute, she sobs out in the most pitiful voice, "One stroke, my Queen. Thank you for whipping me, Ma'am, and not letting me get away with being a gutter slut, my Queen. I deserve seven more strokes, my Queen, will you please give me another whipping with that cane, Ma'am?" Casey counts her stroke off, adding a little pleading humility to the script just to ensure that I'm pleased with her. More likely to ensure that I don't add another stroke to her whipping.

I give Casey another stroke. Then another. And another. She screams, cries and by her third stroke, her elbows and knees are buckling so hard that she's almost falling to the floor as her bottom thrashes around. But she stays on her hands and feet for them, demurely counting off each stroke as she gets it.

Nine strokes, the number she ends up with including the first stroke that didn't count, leaves her entire bottom glowing a very deep red. It's not even really lines anymore. She's run out of bottom for that. It's more like her entire behind is a giant welt. She bawls as pitifully as she possibly can, too.

It also leaves the fur on her pussy mound soaking wet with fresh honey. Honey that's wet enough that it has to have wept from her slit as she was being whipped.

It confirms what I'd suspected about Casey. She's no good at disciplining Joey because she's never known true discipline herself. The firm, strict kind. The kind she can't whine, beg, and cry her way into easing up. The kind where once the sin is committed, the punishment is going to be suffered in full.

And that Casey craves that discipline in her own life. The firmness of it. The structure. The certainty of it. She must because it's exciting her. I'm sure it's filling a need for her. Making her feel loved, or cared for. That I care enough about her to discipline her when she needs it. And she knows she needs it. She's failing to mind her daughter, a sin that's inexcusable to any mother. She needs the discipline to get her to mind Joey. And she loves it that I care enough about her to give it to her. For her.

She stands, very slowly, squishing her unbearably stinging cheeks together, and returns to her place beside Megan. And she apologizes to Megan for her sluttiness as well.

"Cunt, since you were the naughtier bitch this morning, you will get to relieve your bottom last."

"Yes, my Queen," Casey replies, her voice saying she hates that idea, but also with a touch of relief in it. At least relief from the enema is coming. Sooner or later.

"And since neither of you bitches wanted my toilet last night, you won't want it this morning, either. Cunt, go to my slave and get the peasant bucket from her."

Casey walks with those same baby steps, trying to shuffle her feet as fast as she can, but also not wanting to move them at all, as she crosses over to Sophie and asks for the peasant bucket. Sophie hands her a metal, one-gallon, bucket. Casey brings it over to me.

"Do I look like the kind of girl who would poop in a bucket to you, bitch? I'm a person. I use a toilet, like a person. That bucket is for peasant bitches unworthy of sitting on my toilet." I laughing scold Casey. I tell her to take the bucket to Megan.

I tell Megan to spread her feet the 18" the chains will allow her to. I tell her to bend her hips and knees, putting her hands to her knees, and sitting back. It leaves her bottom sticking out open about two feet above the floor. I tell Casey to hold the bucket for Megan. To hold it up close under her bottom and her pussy.

"Cunt, if one drop of anything lands on my floor, you will pay for it, not cum dumpster. It's your job to catch her mess in that bucket. Don't fail again, cunt."