Just Look at Me Now Ch. 03

Jude and Becky's living room is spacious by apartment standards, but still there are not many places to go. I crawled for five or ten minutes in random patterns around the furniture, with increasingly difficult maneuvers like backing up or swinging around Becky as quickly as possible when she pivoted. Eventually she led me to the bedroom doorway.

"Permesso," Becky called out—the polite Italian request for permission to enter.

"Avanti, avanti," Jude replied. Becky led me to a large rubber exercise mat they'd positioned at the foot of the bed. Jude was seated on the bed above the mat, wearing a long dressing gown over her bra, panties, nylons, and of course the red stiletto heels I had just cleaned.

"You must stay on the mat," Jude said, "but make yourself as comfortable as possible. You will be there for a while. Also, you may now speak—I want to talk to you briefly. First, you are wearing a little present we got you. What do you say when you receive a present?"

"Thank you, Jude. Thank you, Becky."

"Do you like it? Is it comfortable? Do you know what color it is?"

"It's not uncomfortable. I find it exciting but extremely embarrassing, and I had no idea I would be collared today. I can't see it without a mirror, but I would guess it is black or perhaps pink."

"Pink it is," said Jude, "the primo color for sissies! Now, I am going to enjoy myself for a while, and part of that enjoyment involves your worship of my shoes and feet. You will need your hands as well as your mouth, so I will leave them unbound. Stay on the mat, do not touch me above my knees, and follow all directions from me or Beck without hesitation." She scooted back on the bed a bit so that only her feet were dangling over the edge. "Put yourself in a position where you can lick my shoes, and no more talking." I sat on my haunches, butt on my heels, which put my face at bed level.

"Now hold still for a moment and close your eyes," said Becky. "We have another gift for you." From behind me she put a blindfold over my eyes—not the soft fabric one I'd worn other days—and began to adjust its straps in back. This was not a sleeping mask with a single elastic band. Instead it felt like several straps forming a kind of web around the back of my head. It took Becky a minute to get this device fitted to her satisfaction, and then I again heard the distinctive click of a tiny padlock closing. "I'm sure we'll find the key around here somewhere," Becky teased. "Unless that was the funny sound when I vacuumed last week." The blindfold felt and smelled like leather, and I could not see a thing, even a glimmer of light.

"I'll be putting Beck to work, too," said Jude, "but let's begin with some pictures while she's otherwise unengaged. She can be art director."

There was a brief pause, presumably for Becky to get my phone ready. "Now put out your tongue. Farther." And I had my first taste of shoe leather. I have more than twenty pictures that were taken in the next few minutes, so I could describe those red shoes in minute detail. Suffice it to say they featured 4-inch heels, a small opening at the tip, and a bow just above this "toe cleavage." The photos show me kissing and licking every bit of those shoes.

Becky showed the thumbnail images to Jude, and when they were satisfied that they'd captured enough juicy shots, the photo shoot ended and the legit foot worship began. My role at first was simply to keep kissing and licking. I could hear Becky unzip her boots and feel her climb onto the bed with Jude. What they were doing I could only guess, and Jude spoke only a few times to tell me to switch my attention from one shoe to the other.

Unlike Jude, I don't happen to have a foot or shoe fetish, so that activity didn't excite me in and of itself. But I was immensely aroused by many symbols of submission. I was crossdressed, on the floor, collared, blindfolded, silenced, and pledged to use my mouth for whatever Jude desired.

What she desired after several minutes of foot worship from me below and who knows what from Becky above, was that I remove her shoes and begin worshipping her feet through her nylons. I was instructed to massage, caress, lick, suck, and kiss—switching feet on command. Occasionally Jude would instruct me to "keep doing that" or "kiss every toe one by one," but mostly I was on my own. I discovered that I preferred kissing feet to kissing shoes—it felt more intimate and offered my lips and tongue softer, more interesting textures. I could also use my hands to better effect to cradle and stroke Jude's feet and ankles.

Above me things grew more agitated. The bed shook more, and I heard a greater variety of sounds, though I couldn't always know what they represented. My emotions, meanwhile, ping-ponged from "I must look like a total slut" to "this is new and fun" to "Jude loves this, and that makes me happy too."

I discovered that Jude's feet were small enough that I could put them—one at a time, mind you!—deep into my mouth, giving them a kind of oral massage. Jude liked that in particular, and soon told me "Keep doing that, in and out. As deep as you can! Fuck your face with my foot!" I noticed the alliteration and wondered if anyone else did. Becky and I—the joint task force on delivering Jude a memorable orgasm—were now fully engaged, and in another few minutes Jude began to quiver and moan softly. Then she came, in a prolonged, extravagant, joyous series of little explosions.

I dialed back my exertions and Jude quickly said, "You may stop now, Nicole. Would you like to stand up? Becky will steady you." We were all three breathing hard.

Becky helped me to my feet—remember I could still see nothing—and led me to the doorway, where I could hold on to keep my balance while catching my breath and stretching my legs and neck. This would have been a little easier had she not had me hold my leash in my mouth at the same time. It was definitely leather—whether pink or black I could not say. Becky left me there, and I could hear her and Jude whispering.

"Nicole, let's see what you can identify by feel," said Becky. "Hold out one hand and tell me what I'm giving you—it's OK to speak but don't you dare drop that leash."

At first I could only feel warm fabric, but as I moved it in my hand I soon knew it was a bra—Becky's, no doubt, given the size and the underwire. "It's your bra," I mumbled. Too bad I couldn't see her bare breasts just inches away. The next item she handed me was clearly Jude's bra, followed by nylons whose dampness announced that they'd just been in my mouth. The dry nylons that came next had to be Becky's, and finally came the two pairs of panties—Becky's warm but dry, and Jude's moist and fragrant. Both women were naked, but there was no doubt about who in our trio was most exposed.

Becky offered me water and took back the leash as I drank gratefully from a glass. She asked if I was doing OK.

"Yes, I'm fine. That was, like, wow."

"Great," she replied. "On to round two!" Oh shit.

Becky led me back to the mat and I resumed my prior position, resting on my haunches. It's not like I didn't know that women might enjoy multiple orgasms. Yet it hadn't really occurred to me that one elaborate, climactic scene might just lead to another, and—who knows?—maybe another. One thing was certain: the orgasm had not magically unlocked my collar, removed my blindfold, or fulfilled my oral contract with Jude, not to mention my anal contract with Becky.

"You're doing a wonderful job, Nicole, though you've made a huge mess of your lipstick," said Jude. "If you keep up the good work I might let you worship my breasts someday. You will keep up the good work, right?"

"Yes, absolutely."

"You don't have much choice, do you?" asked Becky.

"No, Becky, I don't. None at all."

"Well, any time you want to stop," teased Jude, "just grope your way out to the balcony and call for help. I promise we'll let whoever comes to the door unlock your collar and blindfold. Until then, no more talking. Just keep doing that voodoo that you do so well while Becky works her own magic on me. Now put out your tongue... a little farther."

So with my ten-minute break over, I went back to work, this time on Jude's bare feet and toes. This felt much more intimate than licking her shoes, and more fun. Humiliating as it was to accept a collar and leash, and to cede control of my mouth, I had crossed that bridge and there was no going back. Rather than dwell on how I looked or what might happen next, I focused on offering up the best devotion I could—caressing, kissing, and massaging Jude's feet with unfeigned enthusiasm and tenderness.

Jude began to hum an upbeat tune, then softly sang this slightly altered verse:

Heaven, I'm in heaven,

And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak

And I seem to find the happiness I seek,

When my sissy slave is worshipping my feet.

She hummed a bit more, sighed, maybe even—did I hear it right?—purred. She pivoted from this relaxed mode with a simple directive to Becky: "Beck, bring me your nipple clamps."

"Yes, Ma'am."

A brief intermezzo: music theory includes the idea of a "pedal note," a repeated or sustained tone, usually in the bass, that remains constant while melodies and harmonies change above it. I was the pedal point for the sexual toccata Jude and Becky began to play above me. Aptly, "toccata" comes from the Italian "toccare," to touch, and a lot of touching was about to happen. And I was appropriately at Jude's feet, not unlike the piano or organ pedal that gives that sustained note its name.

Jude conducted the crescendo of our arousal by narrating what she was doing to Becky or requiring from her. She told me how Becky' nipples were excited just by the mention of the clamps, and explained that these alligator clamps were too big for my tiny man nipples. She had Becky straddle her so that her breasts were in Jude's easy reach. She adjusted the clamps to a medium tension, reminded Becky that they could be tightened at any time, and explained why she was placing the clamps close to Becky's areolae rather than at the nipples' tips. She had Becky describe how the weighted chain linking the clamps felt whenever she moved. And she had Becky count out ten fingernail flicks, five per nipple, doled out over a few minutes so that long moments of anticipation became part of the dynamic. I couldn't be sure whether those fingernail flicks had a cumulative effect or were delivered with gradually increasing force—likely both—but their escalating impact was evident in Becky's sudden gulps of air, shudders of her body, and eventually soft yelps or whimpers of pain.

"OK, I need to focus now," said Jude when Becky had thanked her for the nipple play. "Nicole, suck on my toes like you've giving each one a blow job while Beck makes me cum... left foot while she fingers me and right foot when she goes down on me. I'm sure you'd like to watch, but just use your imagination."

I started my toe worship with her little toe, thus exercising one of the few opportunities to make a choice for myself myself all day. I took my time, making sure my tongue touched every bit of each toe, feeling the difference between the hard nail and the soft flesh, then using my lips in a way that you could describe as sucking on a lollipop but which, under these circumstances, was more like sucking on a little dick.

By the time I had worked my way across to Jude's big toe, she was making quite a bit of pre-orgasmic noise, accompanied by the occasional yelp from Becky, whose clamped nipples were apparently still in play. I sucked on Jude's toe more quickly and more forcefully as Becky brought Jude to a bed-shaking climax that truly reached down to her toes, which flexed violently as she came. It was a loud orgasm, too—Jude clearly could not have cared less about neighbors hearing her high-pitched Oh's.

"Switch now, Nicole," said Jude a moment later. I dutifully switched to her right foot and could feel the bed quiver as Becky changed position; of course I still couldn't see a thing, but I imagined them in a 69 embrace. With Jude's right foot I started on the big toe, intending to work my down the line, but I never made it any farther: within a couple of minutes Jude was coming again, her cries of "Yes!" and "Oh god" now at fortissimo. As her body quieted after her "spasmochka" Jude said, "OK, OK, thank you" between deep inhalations.

I rested back on my heels and could hear Becky moving again. Then all was still, and I imagined them simply embracing one another in the afterglow. As my own excitement waned—I'd been thrilled to contribute something to Jude's pleasure—I began to realize how much physical work I'd done. My mouth and tongue were tired, and my neck and upper back were beginning to ache as well. I did some neck rolls to relax and stretch, and I can assure you they feel different when you're wearing a collar. I also had time to begin worrying big time about my anus, which I had pledged to surrender to Becky's tutelage.

"Take Nicole back out," Jude told Becky. "Maybe fix her lipstick, let her pee if she likes. I'll meet you in the living room in a little while."

I thought I might be relieved of the collar or at least the blindfold now, but no such luck. Becky took hold of the leash, positioned me facing the door, put herself just brushing my right shoulder, and commanded "Nicole, heel!" So I left the bedroom just as I'd come in, on my hands and knees.

I had only a vague sense of direction as I crawled by Becky's side, but when we left the carpet and reached a hard synthetic floor I knew we were in the hallway near the half bath. "You may not really need to pee," said Becky, "but I want to watch you do it collared and blindfolded, and I have your phone here for photos! You may stand now."

She gave me a hand to steady me as I stood, then helped me find the bathroom doorway. She took off the leash and said, "Just follow the protocol."

Fortunately I'd used this bathroom several times before and knew its floor plan. I had to move cautiously, but I found the toilet, lifted the lid, positioned myself, pulled down my panties to my ankles, and sat down in slow motion. Bull's Eye!

I heard the phone making the fake shutter sound over and over. (I actually like this "haptic" that drives a lot of people nuts.) That switched my attention from the possibility of stubbing a toe to the certainty of looking like a completely dominated sissy—definitely a "just look at me now" moment. "I want to get some while you're actually peeing," Becky said. "Ready when you are!" That didn't exactly speed things along, but after a slight delay I did get a stream going, and my bladder had been fuller than I realized—it kept up long enough for Becky to get full-body and close-up shots.

When I'd finished, flushed, and washed/dried my hands, Becky led me, walking upright at last, back to the living room. She had me sit on a small footrest; this felt downright luxurious after my time on the mat or crawling around the apartment. And my ass was safe for the moment!

"I'm back," Jude announced as she entered. "That was fantastic—thank you both. Nicole, you can tell your friends you had a threesome with two beautiful women. I'm sure they'll want to hear all the details!" By now I could hear that Jude was quite close. "Would you like Becky to take off your blindfold?" she asked. Affirmative.

"Sit still a moment," said Becky. She unlocked the lock and loosened the straps, which came off much more easily than they went on. "Close your eyes and open them slowly," she said. "It's going to seem very bright." With that she lifted the blindfold from my face.

It was bright—painfully so—but I was more worried about what I saw mere inches from my face: the large dildo projecting from Jude's strap-on harness.

To be continued.