Llano - 1980

1323 words about creating and beta testing our basement playroom. Lillian, Jamie and Lisa were 18, Kristin and Eva were 18, and Paul and George were 20.

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Jamie helped me get the basement ready. We swept it out and mopped the floor, then we moved a lot of stuff around to clear the center of the space. There was a drain right in the middle of the sloped concrete floor with a shower head over it. We put the head on a length of garden hose moving the shower a dozen feet toward the back door, mounting it to a column, and put the heavy wooden work bench over the drain. Then we painted the windows white and set up a table and chairs. Paul wasn't at home when we finished, so we only invited George down to check it out and see if it was the perfect playroom.

I sat in one lawn chair and directed, while Jamie took off her dress and hung it quite properly on a hanger over the washer and dryer. George was completely focused on her, so I stood up and removed my dress as well. George got the message and got undressed. Being a guy he simply tossed his clothes in a chair. I picked them up and folded them. This was a special occasion, Jamie and I had taken most of the day to get everything ready down in the basement, then we had cleaned ourselves up.

We had taken a nice soapy shower together, and after a couple of finger induced orgasms we gave each other an enema. It was delightfully submissive having her push the hose in my butt with both of us knowing just exactly why we were doing it. I wanted her to go first and inaugurate our playroom. But since she wasn't sure that she could, she got me ready to go too. We shaved our legs and combed our hair, then we combed our pubic hair and trimmed a couple of the longer ones to make everything nice and even.

"Lisa," said the tuxedo clad Burt Parks, who was inexplicably there in our hall bathroom with us as we got out of the shower. "Your duty as First Runner Up is to be relentlessly buggered by George in the basement tonight should Miss America be unable to fulfill her duties."

Okay, I might have only imagined that part happening.

We made dinner. When George came inside from the garage he took a shower while we set the table. We had made wine the old fashioned way opening a grape juice can and adding a little yeast and sugar before letting it ferment in the cupboard. Over dinner we explained our idea and asked him to check out our preparations. He did not object, I was so excited knowing what would happen after we did the dishes and walked down the basement stairs. It was so liberating, none of us had ever felt so free, so autonomous, so happy to be ourselves.

I was so proud of Jamie, she was being very brave. Things hadn't been all that great in her past. In my opinion it was her turn to enjoy a truly good experience. I told her to lay down on the bondage table that we had made by duct taping a piece of leftover carpet pad on a heavy wooden workbench and then tying a waterproof tarpaulin over the pad. She scooted her butt to the near edge where I told her to spread her legs wide so that George could closely examine her. He looked at her like a new toy, his very early Christmas present and he smiled.

George started examining Jamie's vagina, touching it, playing with the hair and the opening and the tiny little inner lips guarding it. He ran the back of his hand through the cleft and dragged his knuckles on the sensitive center ridge and puffy outer lips. I walked over and handed him a flogger. Then I tied Jamie to the table. I tied her wrists together at the top, and her knees wide apart at the near legs of the bench. I stood next to Jamie and rubbed her belly as he started to gently flog her sex.

He landed several decent blows and Jamie started to cry. I reminded George what we had read, that practitioners said that it was like running. First you had to get to the wall. He sped up his blows as I went to Jamie's head, kissing and holding her. She was crying real tears but she was softly saying: "don't stop," not: "don't, stop." I put the ball of a gag in her mouth without strapping it down and she bit it hard and kept crying while enjoying the endorphins and endocannabinoids that flooded into her bloodstream.

George was as hard as a rock, so I held out my hand and said, "fuck her."

He stopped hitting her and handed me the flogger. I put it on the table and untied Jamie's knees. Then I lifted her legs and held them over her while saying to George, "in her butt, put it in her butt."

After initially pushing himself slowly, steadily full length into her vagina to lubricate himself he moved out of her snatch and lined himself up with her puckered rosebud.

"Push out babe," I said to Jamie. She did. George's well lubricated penis went into her anticipating, excited asshole. I was holding her legs as she was bent over in half and George was just going to town inside of her. She was crying happy tears, and I made a mental note to add a couple of steps, so that next time I could climb up and sit on her face while holding her legs as she got relentlessly buggered. It must have felt incredible for both of them, in a moment he shuddered and shot a nice warm load up inside of her digestive system.

George backed off and l let Jamie's legs down and untied her arms. She spit out the gag as I helped her up and we walked back over to the lawn chairs and had some water. We were lie a team of scientists who had just conducted a wonderfully successful experiment. I got down on my knees and cleaned George's penis off with my mouth before drying it with a washcloth while Jamie had some water. I gave her a big kiss and then George. Then we ate a couple of home-made chocolate chip cookies and compared notes.

George had been silent through his performance, we both loved that. We decided that next time I would buckle the gag in place. Jamie was pleased that I kept urging him on. The literature suggested that this sort of treatment would lead to intense feelings by the flogee for the flogger. Not only did the flogee want nothing more than to be penetrated by the flogger, so did the horney witness to the flogging. The submission hypothesis seemed to be well proven, but extensive additional research on the potential limits, if any, would have to be undertaken. Fortunately, we were willing to do so in the interest of science.

After our breather, we decided that I would be tied face down to the bondage table and gagged from the start. Jamie kissed George and told him that the rougher he was with me the more that I would love it, and the more docile I would be when he buggered me later. She spoke from experience and was, of course, so very correct. She tied me to the wooden table so that my oozing dripping cunt hung off the near edge and the one-inch wide leather belt that both of them took turns wielding could get both my front and rear cracks depending on the angle of the stroke. The pain the belt inflicted before George buggered me was heavenly.

It would have been a perfect evening, except that in all of the excitement we forgot to order our white laboratory coats.