Michael Ch. 05

"I wouldn't worry, dear. Amanda has always enjoyed sports, and wrestling is just another sport," said Richard.

Megan didn't want placating. She wanted someone to silence the alarm bell ringing in her head. Her temper was fraying as Richard continued reading the Sunday papers.

"I'm calling Pete," she said moodily.

"Sounds fun," grinned Richard. Pete was Megan's latest hookup, a white guy in his forties with a sadistic streak that appealed to them both.

"Give it five minutes, then join me." Megan needed to take her mind off Amanda, who was due later with Annie. Shaking, Megan got to her knees in their bedroom and dialled the number, praying he would answer. He did.

"Sir!" she gasped.

"Yeah, remind me who you are?"

"Cunt Candy, Sir."

"Are you on your knees when talking to me?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Naked?"

"No, Sir."

"Get naked and be naked next time you ring me, understood?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Ring back on video chat, and write your name on your tits so I know who I am talking to."

"Yes, Sir." Megan hung up and undressed. His rough, dismissive tone had excited her, settling her nerves. "Richard!"

"Yes, dear," he was there in an instant, his eyes on his naked wife.

"Write my slave name across my tits."

Obediently he did so, trying to ensure his writing was clear and legible. Satisfied with his handiwork, he retired to the corner and waited while Megan rang Pete back.

He answered just as Megan was about to cry with frustration.

"I am naked with my name on my tits," she simpered.

"Yeah, I can see, what do you think, babe?"A younger woman, a brunette in her twenties, appeared on screen.

"A fat pig, she must oink when you fuck her!"

Megan flushed with unexpected humiliation at the woman's comments. Pete's face appeared, grinning.

"Oink for me, piggy, do it well enough and I'll make it the ringtone for your number, finger your fat cunt while you do it."

"Yes, Sir," taking a deep breath, she slipped her finger inside her pussy. "Oink, oink!"

"Snort as well you dumb bitch!"Pete yelled at her.

"Oink, oink!" Megan did some impressive snorting in between the 'oinking'.

"You fingering your piggy cunt?"

"Yes, Sir," moaned Megan.

"Let me see."

She re-positioned her phone, masturbating furiously to please him.

"Oink some more, let's see if we can get that squelchy wet sound to accompany a chorus of oinks and snorts."

Oh, god! Megan didn't want this to end, didn't want to cum as she oinked with increasing loudness. Despite herself, she shuddered, and half doubled over onto the bed.

"Pathetic bitch," muttered Pete, sounding bored.

"Please may I see you again, Sir?" Megan spluttered into the phone.

"I'll think about it. Maybe I'll bring Jade along so she can kick your piggy arse. One last thing. Your new slave name is Pig Cunt. Have that written on your saggy tits. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Now fuck off, Pig Cunt." The phone went dead.

Megan climbed to her feet and flopped onto the bed. She lay quiet for a few moments, then started laughing. "God, I needed that!"

Smiling, Richard joined her on the bed, kissing her affectionately. "It was wonderful to watch, dear. Thank you."

Looking down at her boobs, Megan said: "Do you think my new name will look good on my tits?"

"Definitely. Cunt Candy was way too nice."

"I guess so, but the name means a lot to me; still, my Master's wishes come first. From now on, I'm 'Pig Cunt'.

"Delighted to meet you, Pig Cunt."

They both collapsed into laughter.

****

Michael wasn't laughing. To be truthful, she was bored. She had enjoyed lunch, but Jalsa was now nervous and uncertain; her mild attempt at domming Michael had fizzled out. The club, with its paraphernalia, was intimidating Jalsa.

"I thought Harriet or Lucy would be here!" Jalsa was perched on a wooden box opposite a St Andrews Cross.

"Yes," said Michael, absently mixing soda water and lime from the drinks cabinet.

"Sorry." The girl was a picture of misery.

"We don't have to be here, you know," said Michael crossing over to her.

"I know, but I was looking forward to it and lunch was nice, I just have no idea what to do with all this!" Jalsa waved her hand.

"It's your first time in a fetish club, and you are feeling overwhelmed. It was easier for me on my first time as I was there to do as I was told and be fucked. Good times."

"You sound like you miss it."

"I do occasionally, but life moves on."

"We should say goodbye to Lucy and Harriet. I can't believe I hit Lucy last night." Jalsa shook her head in wonder.

"You did it because you wanted to and enjoyed it. As for saying goodbye, one or the other can already hear you. I think."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, you are sitting on one of them."

Jalsa gaped at Michael in confusion.

"The box. One of them is in there, tied and gagged. I've no idea which. They drew lots this morning. We should get them out, the air will be getting stale."

"What the fuck!?" Jalsa sprang off the box as if it was red hot.

"I probably should have mentioned it earlier."

"You think! Are they all right?"

"They are in a box, dear. How would I know? It's a Schrodinger's slave situation." Michael laughed at her own joke.

"How do we get them out?"

"It's a combination lock, so all we need is the combination."

Exasperated, Jalsa shot Michael a look. "That's fucking helpful. How about you give me the combination!"

"I don't know the combination."

"What do you mean you don't know the fucking combination!"

"No need to shout, you'll panic whoever is in the box, assuming they are still conscious."

"Oh, for God's sake." Jalsa went to the box and shook the lock.

"Pretty sure it doesn't work like that."

"Fuck off!"

Smiling, Michael sipped her drink. She wasn't bored anymore.

****

"I'm not keen on you fighting, dear. You can get hurt."

"Hardly, there were strict rules and it was fun. I can get hurt playing any sport."

"Nevertheless, I don't want you doing it." Megan was sticking to her guns.

"Annie, tell her it's fine!"

Holding her hands up, Annie shook her head. Like Richard, she was keeping out of it.

Annoyed, Amanda drew her mother into the kitchen. "Okay, what's the real reason? I've done martial arts before."

"Not like this, in a ring, in front of people. It's the sort of thing--" Megan stopped. It's the sort of thing your mother did! "I worry, that's all."

"Well, it was good fun. Besides, I'm not sure we are doing it again and the course ends soon anyway. After that Michael will be off, so I wouldn't worry."

"What's this Michael like?"

"She's okay, Annie likes her, a lot," Amanda added with some asperity. "I'm not sold to be honest."

"Annie is a lovely girl."

"Yep, she's great and we're having fun."

"Serious?"

If there was one thing Amanda loved about her parents was their ready acceptance of lifestyles. "I don't know. Probably not."

"You're a bit too young for serious. A young girl needs to enjoy herself, experience life."

"Have lots of sex," laughed Amanda.

"Yes, lots of great sex, live it to the full."

"Did you?" Megan was open about sex but rarely volunteered about her own life.

"Not really, very dull and boring. Then I got pregnant, met Richard, and that's it. Michelle, your mother, was more the fun time girl." Megan folded her arms across her chest as if worried the words 'Pig Cunt' might reveal themselves. "I was practically a nun, dear."

Amanda frowned, then shook her head. Megan's last words sounded familiar.

****

"Okay, let's think about this," said Jalsa.

"Yes, let's do that," said Michael rapping her knuckles on the box. "Hello? Can you hear me in there? Do you know the combination?" She cocked her head to one side. "Nothing. They may have passed out. Clock is ticking."

"Assuming someone is in there."

"I guarantee there is someone in the box. Just not in what shape they will be in."

"Oh for god's sake, I'll go and get someone." Jalsa went to the door and pulled. "It's locked!"

"Of course, we can't have any cheating, can we?"

"You're fucking mad! I'm not going to prison for this!"

"Is that what is worrying you? Going to prison?"

"Of course it fucking is! Do you want to get locked up?"

"Not especially," replied Michael with feeling. "I just thought it was revealing you were thinking of yourself and not the poor woman in the box. I mean she is your first concern right?"

"Of course she is!"

"You just forgot to mention it then?"

"I didn't think it needed saying! Look can we just get whoever is in the box, out of the box?"

"As I said, let's think about this, we're in a fetish club, so what combination number would I choose?"

"You know the fucking combo--you know what? I'll play your game, leave her in there, see if I care." Annoyed, Jalsa sat on the box. "I hope she's gasping for air."

"You are so adorable when you are mad," laughed Michael.

"Fuck off!"

"Is that a smile?"

"No! You're impossible you know that?"

"Yes. I'm guessing but try 6969, it seems appropriate."

Jalsa stood up and punched in the numbers. The lock sprang open.

"I swear that was a guess, Jalsa."

"Yeah, right," Jalsa went to open the clasp on the box. Michael laid her hand on her arm. "Shall we give them five more minutes?"

Jalsa hesitated. "Are you sure?"

"No, that's the point. They may be struggling, they may not. Right now, Lucy or Harriet could be trying to breathe, control their panic," she brought her mouth to Jalsa's ear. "What do you think, babe? Tweak the terror up a notch? Your choice."

"I'm not sure." Her voice was thick and low.

Michael smiled. "If you weren't sure you would be opening that box, instead of--" Lips pressed hungrily against hers.

"Finger fuck me," hissed Jalsa, taking hold of Michael's hand and pushing it up her dress. She was smooth, hot and wet to the touch.

"You want me to finger fuck you on top of this box? While some poor bitch is suffocating?" Michael pushed Jalsa down flat and jammed her fingers in her cunt.

"Yes! Now fuck me, make me cum!"

"You sick bitch! What are you?" Michael's was half inside the girl, her hand slick with juices.

"I'm a sick bitch now fucking fist me!" Jalsa yelled, stretching her cunt, her eyes glazing, her face ugly.

Michael kissed her passionately and pushed her hand into the girl's hole, ignoring the resistance and the shriek of pain.

Rotating her hand brought fresh screams of pleasure. A flashbulb of images popped in Michael's head--Jalsa's head lolling over the edge of the box, spittle flecking her dark skin, a bubble of snot coming from her nose as she frantically rode the hand in her swollen and stretched pussy. A rapid stutter of orgasms leaving the girl trembling and limp.

They lay there gasping; Michael slumped over Jalsa, who was sprawled across the box like a rag doll with Michael's hand still deep inside her.

"I can't feel my arm," muttered Michael, trying to get some sensation back.

"Leave it there," Jalsa glanced down at the intrusion like swollen fruit stuck on a pole. She half giggled at the imagery. Turning to Michael, she looked at her with sated amusement. "There was never anyone in the box was there?"

Michael eased her arm from Jalsa's pussy, wincing as the circulation rushed to return. She kissed Jalsa's cunt. It resembled a gaping wound.

A thud startled Jalsa. Two more thuds, then a weaker one.

"Oh," said Jalsa, wide-eyed.

"On the bright side, they are still alive," said Michael, flexing her arm.

"Yes," replied Jalsa, making no effort to move. Another weaker thud sent a tingle of pleasure washing through her. She could sense the desperation behind it. "Go down on me."

The bitch in the box could wait.

****

"I like your mum, she's kind of hot." They were lying half-naked in Amanda's old bedroom. Both girls had enjoyed re-enacting past times of making out with parents downstairs and trying to keep the noise down.

"I'll kindly ask you not to make such observations, Annie Jackson. It's bad enough you lusting after Michael. You have a thing about older women?"

"Maybe. Megan is cool, though. My parents couldn't wait to kick me out. Your mum is pleased as anything to meet your girlfriend. You're very lucky."

"Yeah, she's okay, dad too, but that doesn't mean I'm fine with you lusting after her, seriously, eww!"

"Or Michael?"

"Jalsa isn't happy about that either!"

They giggled, kissing more intimately.

There was a knock. "Tea will be on the table in five minutes." Megan said through the door.

"Okay, mum, we'll be right down," replied Amanda.

"Fuck, I nearly had heart attack! I stand by what I said, your mum is über cool!"

****

The woman hung suspended from the ceiling, her toes scraping the floor. She was bathed in sweat and trembling from her time in the box. Blinking rapidly, she watched the naked South Asian girl circling her with predatory hunger. Harriet focused on Jalsa, the endorphin high from her near suffocation was still in her system. She was still in her zone, the feral cruelty in the room keeping her there as if protecting her.

Jalsa's mind was skittering around with ideas. She couldn't settle, like having too many presents and not knowing which to open first. She had to get this right. Her lover was watching from the sidelines. Jalsa flashed a smile at her and continued to circle.

Michael, in turn, watched the young girl, curious to see what Jalsa would do next, wondering if she would ask for ideas or suggestions. She didn't.

Harriet felt the brief pain, welcomed it, drew it into her. Jalsa's bite was hard, denting the skin. The pain moved to her breast, sharper, more intense. Jalsa trapped and pulled on her nipple, growling vile obscenities that pricked at Harriet's soul, driving her further into her zone.

Panting, Jalsa pulled away. Her actions had been emotionally and sexually driven with no thought, just an intense desire to hurt and consume the carcass hanging from the ceiling. It blunted an edge, allowing for a more calculating action to follow. She knew what she was going to do; its subtlety appealed. She hoped it would please her lover.

Two fresh bunches of nettles were in a large floor jar. Jalsa picked up the heavy gloves and carefully took hold of one of the bunches. It was more unwieldy than she expected.

Wafting it around behind Harriet's back, she contemplated where to start. A gentle brush against the woman's arse? Smiling, Jalsa did so, enjoying the reaction to the touch and then the tiny whimper as the effect took hold. Jalsa was a curious combination of alert and relaxed. She, like Harriet, was settling into her zone, the delicious expectation of causing distress and pain was a whetstone to the discovery of her sadism. The thrill she experienced on hearing the distressed thuds from the box had surprised and delighted Jalsa. And Michael.

Examining the woman's rear, Jalsa saw the raised hives of the rash, only a few really visible. That initial touch had been fleeting. Carefully she pressed the nettles against Harriet's arse and lower back, moving them deliberately to cover as wide an area as possible.

Michael moved to stand in front of Harrier, cupping her face, kissing her, and drinking in the distress Jalsa was causing.

"Shush, honey, let my baby girl do what she has to do," whispered Michael.

The nettles were thrust between Harriet's legs, pressing on her pussy. Harriet spasmed in the suspension, twitching and squirming, trying to escape the spreading fire. Michael fetched another pair of gloves, grasped the protruding nettles, and pulled them up hard into the bound woman's cunt. The sharp gasp struck Michael in the face. Hot breath laced with an acrid tang of fear, Michael inhaled deeply, pressing her lips to Harriet's, moistening their dryness with her tongue; then she and Jalsa began sawing Harriet's pussy in a shared moment of cruel intimacy.

"Please, Mistress," Harriet's voice was faint, drifting into the air unheeded.

Jalsa left the nettles between the woman's legs and retrieved the second bunch, coating the rest of Harriet's back and legs before moving to face her, Michael stepped aside and drifted to the back wall. Jalsa traced the mass of hives and angry rash with her gloved hand.

"Very pretty. Do you want to look pretty, Harriet?" asked Michael.

"Yes, Mistress."

"I can't hear you, Harriet."

Harriet raised her head, seeking out Michael. "Yes, Mistress," her voice firmer.

"Good girl. Now thank, Miss Jalsa, for making you pretty."

"Thank you Miss Jalsa--" a sharp intake of breath as fresh nettles were run over her breasts.

"Look at these bumps, Michael, they look ever so angry," Jalsa giggled as she admired her handiwork.

"Very fetching, darling."

Frowning, Jalsa slapped Harriet around the face. "The bitch has passed out!"

"Blood flow, it happens when you string someone up like that." Michael hit the release and alarm buttons. Harriet folded to the floor, unmoving. Calmly, Michael laid Harriet on her back, elevating her legs.

"Stupid bitch is ruining my fun!" Jalsa grumbled, kicking Harriet in the ribs. "She is getting a face full of nettles when she comes to."

There was a timid knock at the door. Michael shouted: "Enter!"

Lucy came through in a PVC basque and boots. "Mistress?"

"Harriet fainted. Miss Jalsa has been having fun with the nettles." Harriet started coughing, and Michael left Lucy to attend to her daughter.

"I will be finishing up shortly and will be happy to serve as a stand-in for Harriet if necessary, Mistress, Miss Jalsa," offered Lucy.

"I'm fine, mum," Harriet got to her knees and crawled over to Jalsa, the hives on her body angry and puffy. Nuzzling Jalsa's bare feet, she apologised for failing her.

"Look at me you useless bitch!" hissed Jalsa.

Harriet did so.

Jalsa thrust the nettles in her face.

****

Green Salad, potato salad, slices of pizza, cold meats and quiche festooned the table, accompanied by happy chatter and laughter.

Megan picked up her phone and froze. "Excuse me," she said hastily to her family. "Have to take this." Megan dashed upstairs to her bedroom, locking the door, her heart beating wildly, partly in dread, partly in excitement.

"Pig Cunt." The all too familiar rough voice faded everything around her.

"Sir!"

"Interrupting you I hope," he laughed.

"Yes, Sir! Tea with my family."

"Get naked, show me your tits, I need a wank."

"Sir." Megan quickly stripped and displayed her tits.

"I like your new name, suits you."

"It does, Sir, thank you." Megan was hoping to make him cum quickly.

"Your daughter there?"

Megan flushed, she knew where this was going. Running with it would make him cum quicker; nevertheless, it shamed her. Unfortunately, that shame also added to the appeal. I am a lost soul!

"Yes, Sir. She is here with her lesbian lover."

"Really? Damn that is hot, the two of them being rug munching this afternoon? Pig Cunt jealous she isn't getting eaten out?"

"Yes, Sir, I listened to them fucking, while fingering my pig cunt wishing they were eating me." Megan was making this up, but it was an enjoyable fantasy. Annie was hot. Megan liked her women butch. She had fond memories of the Rev. Harriet Mead.

"I'd fuck that lez daughter of yours, while she eats your pig cunt." Megan could see him wanking his cock. She wished she could suck it.

"I'd like that, Sir!" Please hurry up and cum, and forgive me, Amanda, for using you in my perverted fantasies. Her shame was warming and pleasurable.

"Fuck!" He grunted as he cum. "You're fucking sick, Pig Cunt. Next week I'll be in town. Tuesday to Friday. I'll see you then."