Miss Allison Ch. 05

Miss Allison (Ch. 05)

soppingwetpanties

This chapter can stand by itself, but you'll get more out of this story by reading Chapters 1 through 4. In this chapter David eats plenty of cum, his own and others.

This series is dedicated to the real David. It's my spin on his wicked fantasies.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, merchandise, companies, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters in sexual situations are 18 years or older.

Chapter Five

My eyes snapped open as a cup of ice-cold water was thrown in my face. I'd fainted on my kitchen floor after Miss Lori gave me a sensational ass fucking, pegging me into submission with her favorite twelve-inch dildo. I was on my back staring at the ceiling, though it was hard to keep my eyes open because they were stinging from the splash of water. My ass was sore as hell from both the whipping and then the fucking I'd just received. Out of focus I had a hazy image of Miss Lori's dark hair, smoky eyes and the soft rounded features of her face.

"You passed out after you came," Miss Lori said to me, disgusted by my behavior. She was a plus size woman, sorority sister to Miss Allison and Miss Meghan and most importantly a real Domme. I'd only met her an hour ago and already felt like I loved her.

I'd fallen off the chair I was draped over while Miss Lori was pounding my ass. There was a puddle of cum next to my prone body. I knew what my next task was going to be. I didn't care. Having two orgasms in the same day was something I hadn't experienced in thirty years.

"Make him lick it up," Miss Allison shouted from the kitchen table. Miss Allison was my next-door neighbor and the person who discovered a printed copy of the completed sex survey I'd left in my home office and was blackmailing me with it. Maybe blackmail wasn't the right word because I went along willingly with her perverted sex games. She's the one who brought Miss Meghan and Miss Lori into the fun. Miss Meghan was my boss, a lesbian whose girlfriend was a fledgling submissive like me. To her, I was her practice sub - - someone to experiment with before she did it for real with her girlfriend. Miss Allison and Miss Meghan were drinking my wine and laughing at me while Miss Lori was reaming my ass. Miss Allison wagged her finger at the offending splooge puddle.

Miss Lori hadn't noticed I'd cum while she was fucking me. Her eyes went to where Miss Allison was pointing. Her eyes reflected her disapproval.

"You came while I was fucking your ass?" she asked me in disbelief. "Allison told me you were a shameless slut. And a disobedient one to boot."

In truth I was destined to fail and we both knew it. She just kept fucking me until I couldn't stop myself. We were both looking forward to the punishment, whatever that was.

"I'm sorry," I said, offering up the expected apology. I wasn't sorry. I wasn't sorry one bit.

"No you're not," she said to me, recognizing the lack of contrition in my voice. "But I'm going to make you sorry. But first, clean up that disgusting mess - with your tongue."

I was exhausted from being a fuck toy for the past two hours and willed myself to turn over, struggling to get on my hands and knees. There was a gob of jizz on the floor calling my name. I put my lips over it and sucked it into my mouth, letting it settle on my cupped tongue. I tried not to taste it but couldn't avoid feeling the slimy texture. I showed it to Miss Lori before I swallowed it and licked my lips to make sure I got all of it. If I was going to be a slut I was going to be a good one.

I was surprised when she got down on her knees next to me. It was thrilling to have her so close to me. She was wearing a thin t-shirt, translucent enough that I could see the cups of her lacy bra and the outline of her massive tits. She gripped the roll of fat around my belly and tugged on it hard.

"You're not much of a looker are you David? I'm sure you're wondering what I see in you. You know what it is? You really want this. I can tell. And do you know what? I don't see a rotund middle-aged man. I see a slut. A whore. You're my whore, aren't you David?"

Of course I was. She was right on everything she said to me. I was her whore and I wasn't ashamed to say it. If you knew Miss Lori, you'd want to be her whore too.

"I'm your whore Miss Lori," I confirmed.

She smiled at my answer. "So how's your butt David?"

"It's sore," I admitted.

"Did you like that?"

I assumed she was talking about the ass fucking.

"Very much so Miss Lori. Thank you."

Miss Lori called the other women over to us so she could speak to all of us at once.

"Meghan, Allison, we haven't really talked since you sent me the survey. I think you're new to this but I've been into this sort of thing for years. I belong to a local club that specializes in BDSM and I think you'd enjoy joining me and taking this slut there. There's a lot more that we can do to him there."

It was clear Miss Lori had experience with pegging. I wasn't surprised to hear that she was an experienced Domme. I was surprised to hear about a local club. I'd never suspected the staid suburb I lived in harbored a den of iniquity. The thought of visiting it excited and scared me.

Miss Lori hooked her finger inside my dog collar and pulled me to my feet.

"Look at him. He'll let us do whatever we want to him and he'll do it willingly."

Then she spoke to me, our faces only inches apart. Maybe it was the way she carried herself, but there was no question of who was in command.

"Am I right David. That'll you do anything we want?"

Miss Lori was going to continue to test my will. That was going to be part of our little ritual as long as we were together. I'd play along - - no, I'd up the ante.

"I'll do anything for you Miss Lori. I love you."

Miss Lori raised an eyebrow. "I thought you told Miss Allison that you loved her."

"I do Miss Lori."

"And Miss Meghan?"

"Her too."

"So you love all three of us?"

"With all my heart Miss Lori."

"Tell me slut. Tell me why."

It was my chance to explain myself to all of them.

"You're everything I've ever wished and hoped for. I just pray I'll never lose you."

That's all I needed to say.

* * *

Miss Lori told me she'd pick me up the next day after work. I was told to wear comfortable clothes and my studded dog collar, the one Miss Allison picked up at a garage sale, and stand on my porch at exactly 7 p.m.

I tossed and turned that night, both from the discomfort of the whipping and ass fucking and the anxiousness over visiting a local sex club. I wondered if anyone would recognize me, not that I was terribly worried as I didn't get out a lot aside from work. The bulk of my angst was due to my newness to BDSM. Miss Lori had certainly planned out something for me, and not knowing what it was turned my stomach into knots.

The next day at work was no better. Miss Meghan was my direct report. I'd insulated her from a harassment claim by giving her a copy of a fifty-question survey I filled in that laid out every gory detail of my submissive streak, scoring 96 out of 100 on the survey's submission scale. Miss Allison recorded me on her phone giving it to Miss Meghan. Between Miss Meghan, Miss Allison and Miss Lori, they'd already fulfilled seven of the fifty sex acts discussed in the survey. Miss Meghan was in her office when I got there, on the phone, ignoring me as I walked past her open door.

I got to my carrel within the interior of the office. I had pictures tacked on the fabric partition of Lord Vader, my five-year-old black rescue cat, and of my vacation in Hawaii the previous year. The desk was covered with papers relating to the presentation that Miss Meghan gave the previous day, closing the deal on a $9.6 million sale. I'd been working on that sale for two years, and the blessing from the buyer's CEO just after Miss Meghan finished her presentation was a huge win for our company. We celebrated by having my three Dommes whip and fuck me. Clearly one of the best days of my life.

I sat in my favorite desk chair, a black Herman Miller Aeron, and did a slow spin, thinking about going to Miss Lori's club that specialized in the kinky fucked up shit that I dreamed about but never did. That night I was going to be taken there by three beautiful women who were going to have their way with me. For me, a fifty-five-year-old balding, overweight divorcee, this was a grand slam home run.

Then my thoughts went to my year end bonus. This sale had put me over the top for my yearly sales goal, and for the first time in my tenure with the company I finished in first in annual sales and made Miss Meghan look really fucking good to upper management. I figured my bonus would be about $250,000, which would allow me to pay off my credit cards, fully fund my 401(k), and have money left over for an expensive vacation.

My reverie was interrupted by Claudette, Miss Meghan's intern from the University of Maryland, who stuck her head into my space.

"Daveed Elliott?" she asked with a decidedly French accent.

We'd never been introduced but I recognized her (who doesn't notice a twenty-one-year-old blonde, blue eyed co-ed who was a transfer student from Paris?). She stood in my carrel so I could see for myself what others in the office had been talking about. She was absolutely stunning. Tall and slender, with a narrow face and nose, high cheekbones, with long wispy blonde hair and powder blue eyes.

"That's me," I said, trying not to let my voice quiver.

"Boss wants to see you."

She was gone. But not before I could one last glimpse of her backside, a cute tush in a short, pleated skirt.

* * *

Miss Meghan was seated behind her desk. She was finishing a call and motioned to me to take a seat. The door was still open and I assumed she'd want it open unless she told me otherwise. I sat there, trying not to be obvious about eavesdropping on her conversation.

"... right. $9.6 mil over five years."

"Yeah."

"David Elliott."

"Yeah, that's him."

"I know. I was surprised too, but you never know, do you?"

She smiled at me while she said it.

"Yeah, yeah, you can take an accrual in Q4 and we'll push the rest to next year."

She put her phone down and looked at me.

"That was about you," she said.

"I figured," I said.

"I was talking to the CFO. I told him $9.6 million over five years."

"I heard."

"He figures your bonus to be in the $250 range."

That was music to my ears.

"That's what I figured too."

"David, you did it. To tell you the truth I didn't think you had it in you."

A backhanded compliment, but I'd take it.

"And you're about to be a wealthy man. $250K is nothing to sneeze at."

"I'm grateful I had the opportunity to do it. You had the confidence to put me on that account."

"True. I still don't know what I was thinking when I gave it to you."

I ignored her cutting remark.

"I made you look good," I countered.

"Really good," she acknowledged.

"How good?" I asked.

"Good enough for a transfer to home office, if I want it."

Home office was in Cleveland. If you wanted to get to the top you had to be at HQ.

"Head of National Sales?" I asked. It was the position she'd told me previously that she wanted.

"No, not yet. Angie is still in that slot, but not for long I hear. I'd run the East Region until she moves out."

"We need to celebrate," I said.

Her eyes narrowed. She was thinking dirty thoughts. I could tell.

"Close the door," she said.

I got up out of my chair and closed the door, pushing it firmly to make sure it stayed shut.

"Do you know what's going on tonight?" she asked me.

"Not a clue," I said.

"I think you'll be surprised."

"Have you ever been there before?" I asked her.

"Never."

"Me too," I said. "I'm wondering what we're going to do there."

"You filled out the survey you dumb shit."

She was right. Of course. They were going to follow my survey. But there were still 43 questions they hadn't touched yet. Which ones would they pick?

* * *

I decided to wear jeans and a t-shirt and of course my dog collar. I was fairly confident that whatever we did I'd either be taking my clothes off or getting them ruined. I got out onto my porch about five minutes early, feeling silly wearing a studded dog collar in plain view of my neighbors. It was dusk and the mosquitos were out, buzzing around me and the porch light I left on.

Miss Lori's car rumbled up to my driveway. There was no mistaking her entrance. She was driving a vintage yellow Corvette coupe with a modified exhaust that gave the engine a much throatier note. She got out of her car and motioned for me to come to her. She had changed into something much more provocative than the casual clothes she was wearing when she was pegging me. She was wearing a tight-fitting cream-colored silk blouse and short skirt that accentuated her already considerable curves. She was practically popping out of her blouse. She was a big woman compared to Miss Allison, but no less attractive. I could have gotten lost in her cleavage.

"Ready for your next adventure?" she asked me. Whether I was ready or not was really not a concern of hers. Her wardrobe choice and wheels suggested a wild time. I was literally along for the ride. She could have taken me anywhere.

"Of course Miss Lori," I assured her.

She tugged on my collar and pulled me in the direction of the passenger door.

"Then let's go."

The powerful engine roared to life as she turned the ignition key. My heart was racing as well. She had both windows rolled down, and as she sped out of the neighborhood I let my head lean out the window to feel the cool night air stream across my face. It was good to be alive.

We went outside the city limits to an area outside Chevy Chase I wasn't familiar with. There was a strip center with a closed bank branch on one end of it. The bank's signage had been removed and the place in the exterior wall where the ATM machines were formerly located was boarded over. The windows were whitewashed and there was a "For Lease" sign on it from a large local commercial brokerage company. Miss Lori had a key to the front glass double doors (that were whitewashed as well) and signaled for me to go in first. She followed me and locked the door behind her.

It surprised me that there were other people when we entered the second set of doors. The lighting was low but it was clear from the plush furnishings and bar that the bank had been refitted to be a private club.

"Unusual setting for a club," I said to Miss Lori, as I continued to scan the interior, noticing naked and half naked people all around me.

"It works well for us, as you'll see."

"And it's for lease?" I asked.

"No. Not really. We've left the sign up and the whitewashing on the windows so we won't attract a lot of attention."

That made sense. But a bank?

"We're here because of question 35 on your survey," Miss Lori said as my eyes tried to soak it all in. "'Are you interested in public sex?' You answered 'yes,' so here we are. It's not quite public, but it's as close to public as we're going to get."

It was clear Miss Lori had been there many times before. She walked briskly to an office in the back and I followed, trying to keep my eyes trained forward but allowing them to stray to catch a glimpse of writhing naked bodies in the dark corners of the main lobby we were walking through. I tried to calm myself and control my breathing. She led me into a small office with no furnishings other than a small table and a chair in the center of the room.

"This is where we mark our subs. You'll sit over there. I'll tell the artist when she comes back where to mark you as mine. We'll use henna for you now, but if you decide to come here more frequently you might want to have my mark tattooed on you."

There were pictures on the wall of subs bearing their mark. Many were on the forearm, but a fair number were in unusual places, mostly near the genitals. There was no part of me that was attractive, but I expected my arm to be the place. Miss Lori had other ideas.

The artist, who turned out to be a woman in her 30's. came into the room. She was a classic butch, close cropped black hair, heavily tatted arms, wearing a blue jean vest (and nothing underneath) over large, rounded breasts, torn jeans and lace-up black leather boots with clunky soles. She started to prep her equipment.

"Same spot?" she asked Miss Lori while sizing me up.

Miss Lori gave her the thumbs up.

"Lay across the chair so I can see your ass," the artist told me. I never got her name.

As I was staring at the floor, wondering what was going to happen, the woman leaned over and cocked her head sideways to talk to me.

"Temporary or permanent?" she asked me.

I could see Miss Lori standing in the background. I wanted to show her I was in this for the long run.

"Permanent," I said with confidence. I'd never had a tattoo before and had no idea what I was signing up for.

"Are you sure?" the artist asked, giving me one last chance to change my mind.

"Positive," I said. I was determined to be all in on this. When was I ever going to get another chance to be under the thumb of a beautiful, experienced Domme?

* * *

Fuck. Let me tell you that getting a tattoo fucking hurts. My fat pasty white ass was on fire. I sounded like a big man when I said permanent, but I wasn't thinking about the immediate future, which was a future of searing pain. Fortunately it was a small one containing only a script "LL," Miss Lori's initials. Tasteful, but it still hurt like a sonofabitch.

Miss Lori had her finger through my collar so she could pull me close. She touched near where I'd just gotten inked and I flinched. "Showing off going permanent? Are you trying to impress me?"

"No Miss Lori," I said. "I don't want to impress you. I just want to be yours. For whatever you want to do."

She laughed. "I told you I thought you were a shameless slut and now you've confirmed it. You want this, don't you David?"

"More than you can imagine," I said with conviction.

"Let's see what I can imagine," she said, leading me into the vault of the old bank.

* * *

The lighting was better in the vault. I could see the shiny stainless-steel bars separating the waiting area from the vault and safety deposit boxes. There was a naked younger man lashed to the bars who was being expertly whipped by an older woman who was wearing only a pair of expensive heels. Her heavy sagging tits swayed with the movement of her torso as she whipped him. There were a line of welts striping his ass and thighs. His long, thin erection was poking out between the bars to the other side, with a fine thread of precum oozing from the tip of his penis.

"Do you want to be part of this?" Miss Lori asked me.

"Me?" I asked stupidly.

"Honestly?" She rolled her eyes at me.

I thought about it for another second. In for a penny, in for a pound. "OK," I said foolishly.

"You won't regret it," Miss Lori said.

I was already regretting it.

* * *

Miss Meghan showed up at the vault with her girlfriend. She was much shorter and stockier than Miss Meghan, probably ten years younger than her, with an exaggerated bustline and hips. She too was wearing a dog collar, though hers was studded with colored stones. She was wearing a clingy, stretchy low cut shirt dress that revealed her impressive cleavage. As a shameless slut, I lusted after her as well.

"This is Rose. She's here to learn, as are you," Miss Meghan said to me. Rose, that was a pretty name for an attractive redhead. I wanted to get lost in her mane of curly read hair.