Mastering Submission Ch. 14

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The strain on my shoulders, from having my wrists cuffed behind me, and the tension of being bent over, blindfolded, was beginning to tell on me, and I couldn't imagine how confused, frightened and exhausted Sally must be by now. I was beginning to be afraid that Master would want to carry on doing this all afternoon, but it soon became clear that Master was getting ready to come.

Master removed our double gag and forced us both to our knees. Master pushed our cheeks together, leaving us blindfolded, still handcuffed and joined at the nipples.

I heard Master drop the whip and walk around, I felt the juices from my cunt running down my legs, and could smell the sweeter, lighter scent coming from Sally, reassuring me that she was enjoying this too.

"You two bitches want to open your mouths?" Master asked quietly, and I obediently parted my lips, feeling the movement of Sally's cheek next to mine as Sally complied as well. Master fucked our faces: first Sally, then me, then Sally again until Master came, spurting onto our tongues, down our chins and onto our tits. Master has always said there's something about semen on a woman's face that defines its beauty in a way nothing else can. Liquid soaks into the down on an upper lip. Gravity tugs at the creamy fluid, forming trails across the curve of a cheek, and the cleft of a chin. Master pulled off the blindfolds and Sally and I blinked at the light.

"That was enjoyable, wasn't it?" Master asked cheerily, unclipping our nipples, watching us wince as blood returned to crushed flesh. Master unlocked our handcuffs and slumped onto the sofa.

"You," Master told Sally, "go and unpack, Meat will show you where. And you," Master nodded brusquely to me, "get into that kitchen and make lunch. I'm starving. And find a couple of hats. You know I don't like my whores walking around naked."

In our upside-down world, I was the most important slave because I took the hardest beatings, performed the most degrading tasks, drank the most semen and was penetrated more often: anally, orally and vaginally.

But Sally was useful, too. Sally took over most of the household duties, turning out to be a fine cook, in English, French and Japanese styles. Sally was also pretty and fresh-faced. Master often said that he found Sally decorative to have about the flat, particularly when Sally was wearing a maid's uniform, or had those large breasts in tight bondage.

We had our seventy on Sunday morning after breakfast. We were planning to drive out to Richmond Park for a picnic but it was raining again, so Master made us strip naked and laid me on the coffee table in the main room, with Sally on top of me. Then Master ordered us to lick one another's cunts.

Sally went at it with real enthusiasm, spreading her legs wider than I, extending her tongue further, and plunging it deep into me, attacking my cunt like a hungry dog with a bowl of fillet steak, as if Master wasn't in the room. I lay there, amazed and confused, wondering if Sally agreed to put up with the pain, with letting Master beat and fuck her, not just for free board and lodging, but also for the taste of my cunt? Why had I never known this about my friend Sally? Sally licked me like a gourmet-- like an expert.

Master walked round to watch me performing the same act on my friend. Considering how much I reveled in sucking Master's cock, I was surprised at the distaste I felt in licking my friend's dripping pouch. When I saw Master looking at me, I wrinkled up my nose, extended my tongue obediently and touched the tip of Sally's clitoris. The salty liquid that covered Sally's clitoris prompted me to make a face, and to give Master a look of mute appeal, but Master was unmoved, stern in his determination to teach me all the arts of love and sex -- or at least, all the more degrading ones.

"Eyes down, Meat," Master ordered. "And get on with it."

I paused, screwing up my courage. Master stuck two fingers up Sally's cunt and wiped them on my face. "Have you never done this before?" Master asked.

"No, Master," I said.

"Not at school?" Master asked.

"No, Master," I replied.

"Not at university, after a few drinks?" Master persisted.

"No, Master," I confirmed.

"Not even in your dreams?" Master asked, and I hesitated. "Go on, then," Master ordered. "Make your dreams come true."

"I don't really want to," I insisted.

"Your wishes don't come into it," Master replied fiercely. "I want to see you do it, and Sally is desperate to feel your tongue inside her. Aren't you, Assistant Cunt?"

"Yes, Sir," Sally replied, licking my cunt even more thoroughly.

"Do it," Master ordered. "Lick, or I'll make Sally shit in your mouth."

A small sigh escaped my lips as I moved my head forward and began to suck the elaborate folds of Sally's love lips, polluting my mouth and my mind with the fragrant juices of another woman.

"That's better," Master crooned. "Get your tongue deep into that love hole. That's where the flavour is. That's where it's smelly. Press your nose right up against Assistant Cunt's arsehole. When Sally took her first trip down someone's tummy tunnel, she found her destiny, didn't you, Assistant Cunt?"

"Yes, Sir," Sally paused in her slurping to respond. "That's true."

By the time we both had come (Sally twice) all that slurping and nuzzling made Master excited, so he joined in, fucking the pair of us where we lay, Master's thighs butting against the top of my head, when he fucked Sally and Master's belly pushing Sally's face out of the way when he fucked me.

When Master came in my mouth, he shouted, "Don't swallow. I know how much you love it, but don't you dare swallow."

I held my lips tightly closed, but still managed a smile.

Master dragged Sally to her knees by her hair and forced me to my feet. I moved my mouth into position over Sally's as Master ordered, "Do it, Meat! Spit between this whore's sweet lips." I hooked my fingers round Sally's front teeth to hold her mouth open, as Sally started to shake her head in protest. There was a battle going on, and I knew Master was determined to win it. If Sally were going to live here, Sally would have to bend to Master's will.

"If you don't hold steady," Master warned Sally, "I'll spend the afternoon watching Meat whip your tits."

A frothy mixture of sperm and saliva trickled over my knuckles and splashed into Sally's mouth, turning her muffled words of protest into a surprised gurgle. Master had taught me early in my service that a slave must learn to enjoy the taste of sperm: often it's the only thing she'll get to drink from one month to another, apart from tap water. A master gets beer, champagne, tea, and freshly brewed coffee. A slave gets water to drink if she's lucky, and sperm if she's been a good girl.

I held Sally's mouth closed and Master pinched her nose. "Gulp it down, bitch," Master ordered. "There's more to being a slave than licking cunt. Enjoy it. There's plenty where that came from."

"Nectar," I agreed. "Swallow, you lucky whore."

Then Sally's throat worked, and it was gone. Sally pulled a face.

"There," Master said. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"No, Sir," Sally answered, without conviction.

"Then thank me," Master prompted. Sally found that harder than swallowing Master's seed. "Thank me," Master insisted, crushing Sally's left nipple between finger and thumb.

"Thank you, Sir, for your delicious semen," Sally said. "And thank you, too, Meat, for spitting it into my mouth." Was there a hint of irony in Sally's voice? I decided Master thought so too, when he ordered, "Hit her, Meat. Teach the Assistant Cunt to be more obedient."

Sally looked up at me, and then at Master, defeat in her eyes. However, there was happiness there, too, the comfort a slave gets from knowing her place. Sally had just arrived, but her submission was improving all the time.

Rainy afternoon games with two slaves are similar to the ones Master played just with me, except that two slaves are competitive. For instance, Master would cane us alternately until one of us (usually Sally) called out "Red!" in an agonised voice. On other occasions, Master would stand us side by side with our legs wide apart. Then Master would hang ferocious clips to our love lips, and then attach weights, pulling down great flaps of skin until one of us (again usually Sally) screamed and the other girl was declared the winner. The reward was always the same: Master made the winner eat the loser's cunt.

There is a pony game Master recommends to anyone lucky enough to get himself two slaves. Lots of masters and mistresses sit on their slaves' backs and make them crawl around on all fours, but with two slaves Master could spread the weight. Master put bridles and harnesses on both Sally and me, and armed himself with a long whip. Master would position us on hands and knees side by side, and then (and this is important) climb onto a chair to step onto us horizontally rather than climbing up (to avoid damage to our spines). Then Master would stand with one foot on each slave, low down on their backs, near the hips, where the bone structure is strong, and ride us round the room or across the garden, laying into our shoulders and letting his whip curl underneath us to catch our bellies and tits.

This is how we won a prize at one of Dave and Fuckpuppet's fancy dress parties. Master wore a spangled Harlequin costume; Sally and I were dressed in harnesses with little saddles on our backs, steel bits pulled tightly into our mouths, and horse brasses hanging on strips of leather from our jaws and shoulders, our black and chestnut hair pulled back and splayed out into manes, proudly tossing plumed headdresses. Master hacked off hanks of each of our hair with his lockback knife and stuffed them up our arseholes to make tails.

Some of the audience even dropped to their knees to get a better view of our strutting arms and legs, and quivering tits. We set a jaunty pace, prancing round the room, whinnying with pain and excitement as the lash snaked down. It became difficult for Master to keep his balance as he whipped us round the room. We had to stop for a moment while I came shamelessly in front of everyone (it was that orgasm, Fuckpuppet told Master later, that pushed us ahead of a little Danish girl in breast stocks and won us our prize).

After we'd done our circuit in the fancy dress parade, Sally and I spent the whole evening on our hands and knees, close to Master's ankles, as he watched the other slaves being put through their paces.

Master loved taking both Sally and me out to dinner. Sally would book a table in a particular kind of restaurant, the sort that fill up on Saturday nights with couples holding hands and looking into one another's eyes. In places like that, our little ménage à trois stood out like a peacock in a yard full of chickens.

Sally and I would spend Saturday afternoon bathing one another, and dressing up in our most glamorous outfits.

As soon as we arrived at the restaurant, Master would make it clear to all the other diners, by the way we held his hands, brushed against Master's arms or shoulders, and kissed each other open-mouthed, that all three of us were lovers. We called one another "Darling" all the time.

"What do you want for your main course, Darling?" Master would say, eyes twinkling.

"I'm not sure, Darling," I would respond. "The salmon sounds nice. What do you think, Darling?" I would ask, turning my smile to Sally.

"I agree with you, Darling," Sally would chime in. "I'll have the salmon, too."

We would gaze into Master's eyes, laugh at his jokes, and keep filling his glass, while Master would look around the room at the other diners, his chest swelling with pride. How much more shocked they'd be if they could see what Sally and I were wearing under our expensive dresses. How excited they'd be if they could see the whip-marks on our beautiful buttocks.

Sometimes, if we were feeling wicked enough, Sally and I would go off to the toilet together and come back with our lipstick smudged and our hair untidy, as if we'd been snogging. While we truthfully assured Master that never would take place without his permission, we certainly got punished for it when we got home.

When we'd finished eating, Sally and I would pretend to argue about which of us was going to pay for the meal. Then we'd help Master into his coat and follow Master out of the restaurant with downcast eyes. We'd giggle about the stir we'd caused as we made our way home, but there'd be no laughter when we were back in the flat. Those Saturday night dinners were invariably the first course of a feast of brutal beating and buggery.

Another enjoyable way to spend Saturday night was for Master to put on his best suit and get Sally to dress up, and go out to a superb meal and a West End show while I spent the evening tied to a chair.

Another way Sally made herself useful was helping while I sucked Master's cock. Oral sex always has a flavour of S&M about it, because it involves lying back or kneeling, and receiving someone else's bodily fluids in the mouth, but a little pain adds an extra touch of spice. Before there was Sally, Master used to beat my buttocks with a long whip while I was sucking Master's cock, or Master would hang pegs on my nipples, attach them to lengths of cord, and jiggle them while I was sucking. However, with a second slave Master could concentrate on his own pleasure while Sally caned my arse to Master's precise instructions.

At other times, Sally would kneel beside me and slap my face as I sucked, or hold my head by the hair and move my mouth up and down Master's cock. Sometimes Sally would simply assist me by kissing up and down one side of Master's cock while I kissed the other side, or by licking Master's balls or arse while I sucked the head of Master's cock. Sometimes our Assistant Cunt would help just by talking. Sally would crouch down and order me to take Master's cock deep in my throat, or describe what was happening, caressing my ears, stroking my cheeks, and whispering obscenities into my ear, telling me what I already knew.

"Master's fucking your mouth tonight, you little whore," Sally would say. "He's using your mouth like a cunt. He likes your cunt and your arse, but tonight he's fucking your mouth. You've got three fuck-holes for him to choose from, and this time he's fucking your mouth. You're dribbling, you filthy bitch. Close your teeth so he can fuck your cheek. Tonight you're having your face fucked. You love it, don't you? Now, open your teeth and hold still while Master fucks you in the throat. Your mouth was made to be fucked. It should have a cock in it twenty-four hours a day. Isn't that so, bitch?"

"Yes," I would agree round the thickness of Master's cock. "It's true. I'm just a cock-sucking bitch."

Sometimes Sally would talk like this with real venom, spitting on my face between sentences. At other times, Sally would use the same words more gently, speaking with love.

The last stage would always be the same: Sally would take up a position behind me, cradling my head as I smiled into the jets of sperm that spattered over my face, excited, beautiful, and proud.

Finally, according to Master's whim, our Assistant Cunt would push Master's sperm into my mouth with a silver spoon, or lick it off and swallow it herself.

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AnonymousAnonymousabout 12 years ago
It is hard ...

... to think of any way in which to praise this marvellous re-examining of this classic of BDSM fiction so as not to repeat myself.

Consequently, I shall refrain from saying anything other than 'exquisitely done' and 'thank you'.

As ever, five stars for your skilful handling of this homage.

te

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