Jen's Journey

Parlors on either side of the wide hallway, and at least two big living rooms, each with sliding doors under an arch of wooden scroll work. People stood and sat in groups everywhere, with many milling about. The music throbbed a little louder inside, something with a strong beat but not techno or club-like.

Some people wore leather, or rubber, or vinyl or a few normal clothes or just naked flesh. Beautiful, full round boobs and firm nipples against dark areolas stared at me from down the hall. Two people, an average looking but muscular guy and a curvy girl, were on a table fucking. Handfuls of people, dressed and naked, surrounded them. Couples made out on couches, against walls...made out as in kissed, but it was more like foreplay. There must be more fucking than the couple on the table. This was just one of the parlors.

Charlotte laughed and took my hand. We pushed through people, they all smiled and seemed to know Charlotte. She kissed a few, guys and girls, as we passed, some cheek kisses and some lingering mouth kisses. They all pretty much squeezed her ass.

Charlotte put her lips to my ear, her hair mixing with mine and caressing us both. I missed most of what she said, but "drinks" was in there, and "not long, not far", so I waited meekly in the corner as she moved off.

A tray of mini sandwiches came by, at least in my hungry state that's what I saw first, then I noticed the girl holding the tray. Totally naked and sparkling with glitter. He hands were behind her back, and the tray hung from a sling around her neck. She wore a ball gag and drool slid down in strings that touched her chest. I smiled and grabbed a handful of the bite sized sandwiches. I saved a couple for Charlotte, but inhaled mine.

A naked male sub followed his Mistress, tugged by a leash. His Mistress flowed as she walked, tall and thin and dressed in shiny red and black leather. Her blonde hair hung in a long pony tail down her back. She swaggered, each step a click-clack of her boots on the wooden floor and then a soft muted thump as she passed over Victorian throw rugs. The leash wasn't a play thing, it had big links and led to a serious steel collar. The sub must have been in his late twenties, and had a decent body. Flat, ripped stomach, strong shoulders, firm ass...usually it's hard to find a good ass on a man. But it was his cock that struck me.

Regular size and flaccid, and in some kind of chastity device. I'd never seen anything like it and became instantly squirmy with discomfort, yet I felt a glow below and then instant wetness. Without thinking I bent over to inspect it closely.

"You can touch," the sub's Mistress said, stopping. The leash links clinked softly, swinging with sudden slack. Her gleaming teeth flashed in a lovely smile.

I'm sure my mouth was open, my eyes big as DVDs. I hesitantly put my hand out. My fingertips touched the warm steel of the tube encasing his cock. Up close I could see that some kind of polished rod was inserted into his cock, in his pee hole. It curved around and connected to a circle around his balls. A flat bit of metal at the cock tip must stop an erection.

"Does it hurt?" I asked, I guess to the sub.

The chain jerked, a prompt for the sub to answer. "Only when it gets hard, or tries to get hard, miss" he said, a little breathy...my fingertips were actually caressing his cock head through the gaps, and it was trying to swell.

"Oh! Sorry!" I pulled my fingers back, and he closed his eyes.

His Mistress laughed.

"How...does he pee?" I was too curious.

"I was just taking him, you can watch," his Mistress said, introducing herself as Alicia.

I hesitated, partly because I didn't want to lose Charlotte. But Charlotte appeared just then with two glasses of champagne. And minus her shirt and skirt. She wore the lacy purple bra I'd seen, but it was a half bra, her firm nipples stood out, naked for all. She had a matching purple, lacy g-string that camel-toed into her pussy, the thin fabric dark with dampness. Seeing my new friends, Charlotte immediately went into a polite, submissive mode, and offered her own drink to Alicia.

"Thank you, girl, you may keep it."

We followed Alicia and her slave down the hall and to the laundry room. On the tile floor were a few cat litter boxes. A naked girl with short brown hair and a leather collar was squatting and peeing in one. I was struck by how humiliating it was, but also very sexy. She gave a blush and stood, then ducked out. Pee dripped a little from her slit.

Alicia had her sub, Josh, squat over a litter box, facing us. By now a few people peeked in to see the device in use. Alicia said the tube in Josh's peehole went from the base and curved back outside to his balls. Under the cock tip there was a hole. He strained, like he tried to pee, but nothing happened. After a delay, the golden stream softly sprayed out the hole, straight down.

Josh said it felt weird. He couldn't feel the pee traveling through his cock because of the tube. That had to be the most intense device I'd seen. It sort of disgusted me, scared me, but I also loved it! The fierce control, the invasion of that pee tube, the shiny metal...it sent lightning into me, I could feel my thighs soaking beneath my skirt. To not feel yourself peeing, to be so controlled!

Still grinning and squirming, I thanked them both.

"You're very welcome, girl," Alicia smiled, eyeing me. She stood so tall and strong. I noticed she called me "girl", like I was a true submissive, a slave. I wore street clothes, an obvious visitor, maybe she had some kind of instinct for reading people.

Charlotte led me back to one of the party rooms. On the way she kissed my cheek, wet and cool from the cold champagne. "I want you to meet someone. She is the whole reason, mostly, why I wanted you to come."

We approached a small cluster of people, all dressed in various black leather. I don't really remember the other two or three people now, just Charlotte's friend.

Charlotte smiled a huge grin. "Ms. Angela?"

The woman in the center turned and gave us both a genuine, bread-baking warm smile. She stood a little taller than my five-two, and wore a black leather corset with nipples barely hidden and eager to come out. A black leather miniskirt covered almost nothing, and tall boots clung tight to her lovely legs.

She had a pretty face, soft, and long, long straight hair as black and silky as could be. What made her a knockout was her charisma, her warmth, her glow. But her eyes and smile made my legs weak.

Angela kept that smile on me, but gave Charlotte a tight long hug, then moved her fingers flat down Charlotte's tummy and cupped her pussy through the panty. Charlotte moaned. Angela put her hand on my arm, thumb caressing my bicep. "Welcome, Jen."

I guessed Angela was about thirty-eight, maybe early forties. It didn't matter. She was trim but not skinny, and I liked everything about her.

Charlotte took over the conversation with the other people, and Angela whispered in my ear. Her hair was so long and straight it swished when she leaned, and I was sorry it didn't swing to caress me. There was something lovely about feathery hair like Charlotte's touching flesh, but I suspected there was something just as nice about straight silky hair touching, too. I had to strain to focus on the words. Angela was saying something.

"Let's go talk, do you mind?"

She could have asked me anything and I wouldn't have minded. She took my arm, a firm grip, I don't think I could have slipped out of it, yet friendly, and guiding. She had me gulp the rest of my champagne and then grab two full glasses from a passing tray.

We went upstairs, past couples and trios on the steps. In the hallway moans and whimpers from every room. The only quiet space was a small bathroom. Angela closed the door behind us, locked it, and gestured for me to sit on the edge of the tub. She closed the toilet lid and sat down, then clinked her glass to mine. We drank.

Hiding behind my glass, I eyed her. I followed her silky hair from her shoulder to her breasts.

"Charlotte has told me much about her experiences," Angela said, "and a little about you."

I must have looked panicked and embarrassed, because she reached out quickly and put a warm hand on my knee. Cold fire.

"She didn't betray any confidences, Jen. She only included you where you overlapped with her. Do you want to tell me about the big incident? You don't have to." Angela took a small sip of champagne, so I did too, but mine was a gulp. The bubbles were a good distraction.

I started slow, but I told her about my part in that night. She knew already, I guessed. There wasn't much Charlotte could keep out about me when telling that story, but it sounded like Charlotte tried to be objective and leave my side to me. I didn't talk long but then I cried. Not teary little tears, but face screwed up and red and snot and breath catching, chest tightening sobs.

Angela slid her hand up and down my back, slow, warm, comforting. She didn't seem uncomfortable with my tears, she just held a connection firm and let me cry. After a time, probably a few minutes but seemed longer, Angela put down her glass and cupped my chin in her hand, still patting my back. She lifted my chin to meet my eyes. "Jen...look at me."

I did, my eyes seeing a distorted picture through smeary tears. Her fingers wiped at them, clearing them. Intimate, caring.

"Jen, Charlotte doesn't blame you. Not one bit, not at all. Do you know why?"

I nodded "no," on the verge of another sob attack. Watery snot dripped from my nose but Angela wiped at it with her finger. I felt shocked at that kind of intimacy, embarrassed even more, just for a second. A flush of cold tingles ran through me, head to toe, lingering in my back and then fading.

"Your so called Domme didn't understand the point of the game, or how to care for girls in her control." Angela looked at me, her dark eyes sparkling, willing me to understand. "There's a difference between pain and destruction, between control and just being bossy."

I nodded, no more tears but the snotty remnants. But Angela knew I wasn't convinced. She leaned over to the sink and wet a washcloth with cool water, then wiped my face. When she finished she kissed my forehead. Her lips warm and soft, but she conveyed a...caring, a friendship in the kiss, she passed a little warmth from her to me, a lifeline.

"Charlotte loves you like a sister, Jen. She's been living here for almost a year, and she learned so much about herself. She wants you to learn all about yourself, too." Angela put her own glass to my lips and she fed me a sip of champagne.

"I can't promise you happiness if you let me help you, but I can promise you will at least try to forgive yourself, and know yourself. I promise to never harm you. That doesn't mean no pain though," she laughed.

I nodded, absorbing. I think I would have sat there, quiet, forever, just thinking, but Angela asked me about all the good and bad experiences I had. I told her everything about Debra in college. It felt like a replay, like it happened again now. I actually got a little wet reliving the story. When I finished, Angela smiled and nodded to herself, thinking about my words. She leaned forward, lifting off the toilet a bit, and opened the lid, then sat back down on the seat. She started peeing. I turned away, not sure if I should get up. Then her hand covered mine, holding me tight.

"It's just peeing, Jen, and we're friends enough already to pee together, don't you think?"

I nodded, gave a little smile. I also thought she mustn't have panties on to pee like that.

"Do you have to go?"

I nodded again, my only form of communication now, I laughed to myself. For some reason my heart raced. I'd peed with the door open in front of girls before, but this felt more intimate. Patrick always closed the door.

Angela stood and I stood. I intended to sit on the toilet and drop my panties, but Angela put her arms around my waist and pulled off my top, my hair went staticky wild. Her warm hands tugged my panties down, the dark wet spot so visible. As the cloth pulled away from swollen pussy lips, I felt a surge of heat and wetness, embarrassed as if she could see the tingling as a throbbing or something. She laughed and brushed her fingers through my hair. I felt like a toy, a prize.

"Show me all of you," she said. The words were friendly, but it was a command.

I unhooked my boring old white bra, and my smallish 34Bs were free, nipples swollen and firm. Angela kissed each nipple, a warm soft tongue, so wet, and slowly swirled around each nipple, then she suckled. Just the one lick and suckle on each. She guided me to the toilet and the air rushed on my wet nipples, cooling them like ice. Angela squatted in front of me, held my hand waiting patiently.

"Can't..."

She shushed me lovingly and just waited, smiling into my eyes, and brushed a loose strand of hair away. Eventually the pressure came and I let out a long and forceful stream. It sprayed nosily against the porcelain and water.

"Good girl."

I smiled, warmed by her praise, if only for peeing.

Angela reached out her hand and cupped me, her warm fingers gripping my pussy, connecting us for a moment. "Scoot forward and lean back, spread your legs wide," she said, and I did, skin all goosebumps with excitement, following an order that could lead to anything. I couldn't disobey, and I wanted to please her.

Angela knelt between my open legs, and bent over. Her silky long hair spilled and kissed at my thighs, sending ice cool tingles along my spine. Angela's wet lips kissed my mound, just below the neatly trimmed strip. She slid down, kissing my folds. Then her tongue lapped slowly up my slit, pushing the petals apart, taking in my juice and the last drops of my pee.

Hands gripped my hips and held me, as a stiff tongue pushed inside me, tasting my honey, but pushing in deep to explore. A lap and then up and over my clit, it throbbed, it ached! I moaned, fire roaring inside me, thighs wet and tingling, ass clenching. Then fingers, two pushing inside, invading, not fast but very strong and firm...I squeezed them, hearing the squish of my wetness, feeling the firmness of them as searing hot flesh kissed them. I squirmed as little ripples ran through me from deep inside.

A third finger, Angela's hand now a wedge, pushed in, penetrating, stretching my entrance wide, slight pain but oh what sweet fire, fuck!

My eyes closed tight and each breath became a struggle. The pleasure of Angela's touch was amazing. I vibrated with heat and desire at the thought of being probed and-not used, but played like an instrument.

Grunting and pushing and more squirming and a stretching pain and somehow Angela's entire hand was inside me. I felt the flesh slide around it and grip her wrist. Though she has small hands it was way bigger than my entrance. I opened my eyes to look down between my legs, at the V of fire and heat and slippery wetness, and saw just flesh. My folds were stretched taut and kissing Angela's wrist. We blended, we were absolutely One.

I squeezed her hand with stretched walls, feeling the wedge of fingers, pumping it, straining to fuck it as my ass clenched, faster and faster. Angela rotated her hand inside me, a deep internal caress of fire, the warmth spread throughout my entire body and I ached and my pussy spasmed. Her fingers curled a little, sliding along the front of my womb, curling to massage that magic spot. I stiffened as the first wave of lava-like pleasure poured through me, threatened to melt through my skin.

My stomach tightened and my lungs were solid dead weights, I had to gasp and struggled to draw a breath and when I did I pulled in tingles from everywhere, like breathing glass shards. I could only jerk forward, head hanging down, mouth open in an O as the storm roared through me...drool dripped out and splattered onto my stretched, stuffed pussy, but the fire did not go out, it was water on an oil fire and I jerked so hard I thought I busted the toilet seat from the hinges.

The fingers massaged and I felt the cliff edge approach and then Angela pumped me. She fucked my hole with her hand, not roughly, but so strong. I flopped about, spitting with every gasp. It was that helpless feeling when you are over-tickled and can't breath and it feels so good but then your nerves overload and it's pain and you just vibrate.

Then I came.

I rolled over that cliff edge, my stomach flipping and zipping up and leaving a wave of queasiness behind, the thrill when you go over a bump in the road fast, or roar down a steep roller coaster and zip up the other side. I jerked, my hips rolled, my back arched, like I was electrocuted.

I thought I'd blacked out. I floated, but not in the clouds, down the rapids as rumbles and ripples kept pouring through me. Just when I thought it was done, another mini cum, and a mini-mini one behind. I bounced. I cried because of pure joy, because I connected to Angela, literally. Totally stuffed, existing around her. She could have wiggled her fingers and pulled my heart right out. I had never felt as connected to another human as then. It wasn't just the pleasure, but the intimacy.

My body gradually went floppy, and Angela smiled at me. I squeezed her with my spasming muscles. We just stayed connected for minutes, her hand inside me deep, my legs wide and my pussy still pulsing. I didn't want it to end.

But eventually, maybe another five minutes, Angela kissed my mound, sweetly, possessively, and slowly tugged, slowly, carefully pulling her hand from inside me. That sensation alone sent new fire and ripples everywhere. When she pulled her shiny wet hand from me and I looked down, I looked wide eyed at my fuck hole, it gaped. I had a thought race through my head, and it must have flashed on my face.

"Shh, it will close up, you aren't ruined, sweetie," Angela soothed. I had feared for a second that only table legs would fit in there from now on. "I would never hurt you like that. Whatever I do, I have your ultimate health and safety in mind." Angela put her wet hand to my lips and I suckled them into my mouth and lapped and lapped at the juices like a needy dog, tongue sliding between each finger. She laughed, a little purring laugh, then she kissed me.

Both hands holding my head firm, wet on my cheeks, and again we were connected. Our tongues danced. I inhaled her breath, swam with her. I drank her saliva as she pushed a mouthful into me, and swallowed, gulping.

Eventually, softly, the kiss faded and Angela's face filled my vision. I sank into her eyes.

***

"Did that feel good," Angela asked.

I just flopped there on the toilet, leaning back, legs so wide, heart slowing down. "Oh yes, yes, yes!"

"What felt good about it, Jen, anything you felt, tell me."

I thought, and I tumbled out words quickly, still on a high, saying everything I felt. Physically amazing, but it also made me feel controlled, like a toy, like an amusement for Angela, yet loved and connected.

Angela smiled, still holding my head and staring. "The warmth of being controlled, and being part of someone else. Someone who cares greatly, and can become family."

I just nodded, more joy tears.

"Do you want to feel these things again?"

Of course! It was a thought screaming in my head, and probably words too, I think they came out.

"You know you are submissive, of course, but from what you've told me, and how you behave, you are much more," Angela said. "You crave acceptance and praise. You know what else you are?" she asked, grinning.

I shook my head.

"A very sexy slut."

I blushed and laughed.

"Really, truly. Your nipples went soft and your clit slid back away, and in just a few minutes they are both hard again. And that must be new wetness because you're shinier."