Procured Ch. 05

'Oh yes!' I gasped, as Katia's busy fingers found my clit, prised it from its hiding place with her caresses, and then plunged into the wet, warm depths of my cunt, as her mouth simultaneously found one of my nipples, now engorged with passion, and teased it with her studded tongue.

My orgasm took me by surprise, a delicious wave of ecstasy sweeping over me like a tsunami, and it took me a moment to recover, then I said, 'It's your turn now, Katia!'

'No,' she replied, 'sleep for a while – I need to rest for the evening ahead; I'm sure to need all my energy then.' We lay together, sleep taking a while to come to me, but when it did, I slumbered deeply, until perhaps seven, when Katia kissed my cheek, and told me it was time to get ready.

She had me sit on the stool in front of my dressing table, and spent some time expertly trimming and brushing my hair, until I could barely recognise myself – my hair was shiny and neat, falling down past my shoulders to the middle of my back. Then she got me to turn around, and attended to my make-up, paying special attention to my eyes.

'You've made me look like a whore,' I told her.

'Good,' she said, 'then you will look sexy!' And I thought privately that she had achieved just that, my large green eyes now sporting long black eyelashes, and lots of mascara, my lips shining with gloss, a touch of glitter around my cheeks.

It was time to put on the dress. I felt nervous at the thought of people seeing me in this fantastic gown, which revealed more than it hid. After I had wriggled into its soft silky caress, and stepped into the heels Sandra had bought me, I walked about, getting used to the crippling height of the unaccustomed heels, and looking at myself from every possible angle in the big mirrored door of my wardrobe. Katia had gone to get ready herself. I could scarcely believe that the reflection looking back at me was me – gone was the scruffy creature I had been for as long as I could remember – in her place was an erotic image, a girl, I had to admit, that any man would want to fuck. And with my appearance, I mused, my whole attitude had changed. Katia had shown me delights that lurked in my body, hinting, as it were, at pleasures to come, pleasures I could only dream of, and which I had somhow thought, I supposed, were felt by others – not me. When I felt I could trust myself to walk without staggering in those heels, I walked carefully downstairs.

Sandra was laying the table, and I had to do a double-take when I saw her. Her long, straight, ash-blonde hair, which I had only seen worn up in a twist, was loose, brushed out to a pretty sheen. But it was her dress which commanded attention. At first I only saw her rear view, and a central three inch gap from high neckline to floor in her flaming red gown was closed by dint of criss-crossed black strings, which someone must have helped her pull tight, as she was virtually encased in the tight dress. The crack between her buttocks was on view, and, needless to say, she wore nothing beneath the dress. When she turned towards me, I told her I thought she looked very sexy, and she smiled back.

When Katia walked in with a tray of glasses, she looked like a voyeur's dream. She wore a white corset, her waist pulled in to almost nothing, her breasts perched above its frilly top, nipples just visible. From the high, arched hem of the corset long garter straps held up lace-topped white stockings. This ensemble she covered with a completely sheer white nightgown, mid-thigh length, trimmed with white fur at hem and neckline. A glint of silver shone from her pussy, where I knew a chain dangled between her two piercings. She wore immensely high white stilettos, and I didn't believe I had ever seen a more erotic looking woman.

Mark was at the door, welcoming the guests I was now eager to see, having heard so much about them from Sandra. When he ushered them in, I took an instant liking to Jimmy, who looked laid-back in cream chinos and a button-down blue shirt. My first sight of Lucy was unforgettable, though. Her long black hair had been braided into a single plait, and she wore a peach-coloured, long-sleeved harem suit with a floral pattern, almost completely transparent, so that I could see the rings Sandra had told me hung from her nipples, and that, like Katia, she had a chain depending from her crotch, though it was impossible to see where it was attached without staring rudely. When she greeted me, I noticed that she had a coral stud in her tongue, too.

'And this is our slave, Nadia,' she announced. I embraced the small, slim Romanian girl, who wore a simple, sky-blue, pleated gown, knee-length, falling straight from a gathered collar, in some soft, silky material.

When I had been introduced, Lucy said to Nadia, 'Now, show everybody your brand, darling – they'd all like to see it, I'm sure.'

Nadia picked up the hem of her dress, raising it to her narrow waist, thn slowly turned around, so that we could all see the terrible mark, just like Katia's, but still looking fresh and just a bit angry. It consisted of a simple insignia, with Lucy's and Jimmy's initial entwined.

'Does it still hurt?' Sandra wanted to know.

'A little,' said Nadia.

'I don't think she should be whipped tonight, then,' said Sandra, 'so we'll not put her name in the lottery.'

'Just the three of us then,' said Lucy, 'unless you are including Cindy, of course.'

'Oh no, she's just a spectator,' said Sandra, 'let's have something to eat, shall we?'

I was utterly fascinated by the proceedings, but could scarcely believe what I had heard when I realised that they were actually going to have someone whipped – and that such punishment wasn't to be restricted to the slaves.

As we sat down to eat, I suddenly realised that I was wet. Was it the amazing gown I was wearing, and which caressed my skin like a lover? Was it the sight of the other women, so erotically dressed? Or Jimmy, whose eyes flitted across me, noting the shape of my breasts under the dress? Or was it the promise of seeing someone receive a whipping that they so clearly relished? Whichever, my pussy was soaking, and my concern was that I didn't stain my dress.

I looked around the table, and my eyes took in the sheer beauty of Katia, the innocent-looking Nadia, and the voluptuous charms of Sandra, but it was by Lucy's exotic appearance that I was captivated, and I realised with a shock that her husband was regarding me, a small smile playing on his lips, as I was rivetted by the sight of his wife. I turned slightly to smile back at him, something I wouldn't have dared to do before…..before what? Before I had fallen under the spell of this odd gathering.

But Mark was presenting straws to Sandra, Katia and Lucy, as we had finished eating – and Lucy drew the short one! You would have thought she had won a cash prize – she looked delighted. Delighted that she was about to be whipped? Perhaps it was a play-thing? A simulation, something like that?

'Who's going to whip me?' Lucy was asking.

'The choice is yours,' replied Mark.

'I'd love Sandra to do it,' said Lucy, 'do you want me to strip now?'

'No,' said Mark, 'let's all go to the playroom. I'd like to see you on my new whipping-post.'

'That sounds interesting,' said Lucy, and I saw her actually licking her lips involuntarily as we left the table.

Once in the playroom, Mark sat between Katia and Nadia on the sofa, and Jimmy motioned to me to take the armchair, whilst he helped Sandra prepare the whipping post, and Lucy slipped out of her harem suit. It was then that I saw just how flat-chested she was, her breasts no more than slight bumps, but with prominent, swollen nipples, from which dangled dull metal rings. A long silver chain hung from her pierced navel, looped and joining another which hung from her hairless pussy.

Jimmy and Sandra soon had her wrists in the stocks, and her legs spread apart, ankles secured by the straps that were there for the purpose.

'We don't need to fasten her waist,' said Jimmy, 'she'll keep still.'

Sandra lifted Lucy's plait from her back, and flipped it over her shoulder.

'What would you like me to use, darling?' she asked her.

'You're good with a horse whip, Sandra,' she replied, 'but do as you please.'

I found myself getting unexpectedly excited, and was squirming on the armchair, as Jimmy came and sat on its arm.

'Do you really want me to hurt you?' Sandra asked her captive. I realised that this was a part of some essential ritual.

'Yes, please hurt me,' replied the Chinese girl, 'hurt me a lot!' I tried to read her expression – there was lust there, surely, and something else – expectation? I couldn't tell, her Asiatic features inscrutable.

Sandra fetched a long, evil-looking horse whip from the wall-rack, and tested it through the air, then stood back, gave a couple of swishes to loosen her wrist, then sent the lather thong whistling through the air to land with a sharp crack across Lucy's slender white back, where it traced an instant pink line.

'Oh!' murmured Lucy, when I was sure I should have screamed. Before I had time to wonder why my breath was coming in short gasps, another vicious, efficient stroke was etching a line on Lucy's pale flesh, and, although she appeared to writhe almost imperceptibly, she remained silent, but as she twisted her head as far as she could towards her torturer, her pretty face wore an expression more of lust than pain, and when the third, even harder, lash brought up a welt on her tender skin, I saw her studded tongue dart out from between her white teeth in an unmistakeable gesture of passion. Sandra was now warmed to her task, and flogged Lucy with all her strength, drawing a pattern of red stripes from her shoulder-blades to her buttocks, and not even sparing her inner thighs, where I thought it must have been excruciating. So caught up was I with Lucy's fate, that I hardly registered Jimmy's arm around my shoulders, until his hand found my breast through the thin, soft fabric of my gown, and began kneading it, bringing the nipple to attention. Then I looked up at him, but he didn't stop, and I certainly didn't want him to.

'This excites you, Cindy, doesn't it?' he whispered in my ear.

I nodded dumbly, and, looking sideways, saw that Katia and Nadia were taking turns to suck Mark's impressive cock.

Sandra, meantime, had finished her work, and was taking Lucy down from the whipping post.

'Come on,' I heard her say, 'I'll take you to my room and put some balm on your marks.'

Lucy nodded her aquiescence and, taking Sandra's hand, followed her out.

Jimmy bent around and kissed my lips, and I found his attention so welcome that I allowed him to put his tongue in my mouth. As we kissed, I felt my juices begin to flow in earnest. Always finding it easy to reach a climax, I knew I should cum immediately we went any further. I was terribly excited by what I had just witnessed, but couldn't have said why. I found myself wondering if I was, in fact, envious of Lucy – if I could envisage being whipped. Her enjoyment was so evident, that……….I just didn't know.

But what was Jimmy doing now? He had taken my wrist and guided my hand gently to his fly. Some force outside my control made me pull down the zipper, and I discovered he wore no underwear, as his nice, straight, erect cock sprang into my hand. I looked at it admiringly, then leant over and licked a drop of pre-cum from its tip, which I then took in my mouth, tonguing his crown until he moaned with pleasure. Impatient for more now, I slid my lips down his shaft, taking him deep into my throat – and amazed myself when a violent, shuddering orgasm wracked my body, an accumulation of what I had seen and Jimmy's lovely cock. No way could I disguise my ecstasy from Jimmy, who immediately let himself go too, and I was soon swallowing his load of hot spunk as he shot it deep into my throat.

We all sat and sipped drinks, back in the lounge, Sandra and Lucy conspicuous by their absence, and when they did eventually appear, almost an hour later, no-one commented – they simply poured themselves out a glass each and joined us, watching television. Only about 25% of me was with the game show on the box, however, as my mind was in turmoil, a turmoil that continued after I had gone to bed. I wasn't like them, was I? Or, if I wasn't like the rest of the party, why had I been excited practically to the point of orgasm by what I had witnessed? And what made me take a stranger's cock in my mouth? I switched my light on and took a long look at myself in the mirror. Somehow, the girl looking back at me had changed – I saw a more sophisticated, knowing image, and lay back, sleep coming instantly.

When I awoke it was almost nine, and I realised there was no noise from downstairs. Then it dawned on me that it was Saturday, and nobody had to go to work. Just the same, I showered and got dressed, starting to pull on my jeans, then thinking better of it, and slipping on the cotton summer dress Sandra had bought me, over my bra and panties. There was no way, I thought, I could wear my sneakers with a dress, so I reluctantly tried the metal-heeled stilettos Sandra had insisted on buying me. They were ever so high, and would take some getting used to, but when I looked at my legs in the mirror, I could see that they transformed me. Perhaps a change of image wouldn't be such a bad idea – and I didn't plan on walking far anyway. Giving my hair a quick brush, I set off to look for some coffee.

Katia had beaten me to it, and was sat at the kitchen table, still in her robe, with a cup of steaming coffee.

'Hello,' she said, 'pour yourself a cup!'

I did so and sat down opposite her.

'Did you enjoy yourself last night?' she asked, 'Jimmy is good, isn't he?'

I nodded my agreement, not too sure what she meant by 'good,' but she was smiling in a way that suggested complicity.

We sipped our coffees in comfortable silence for a while. At length, Katia looked at me thoughtfully, and said, 'When Lucy was whipped, were you excited?'

'What if I was?' I almost said, but what I actually replied was: 'I don't know really – it's all very new to me.'

Then I looked at Katia, saw she was smiling, and asked the question that really fascinated me: 'Do you actually enjoy being a slave?'

'Oh yes,' she answered.

'And even though you are punished, when you've done nothing wrong?'

'It's what I live for,' she answered simply.

I shook my head in mute disbelief, but she was eager to enlarge on the subject.

'Sandra and Mark are very good to me,' she said, 'and Mark is my master.' As if that explained everything.

'But it must really hurt to be…….to be whipped?'

'Yes, it does, but it is the most wonderful feeling also,' she said, 'I'm excited now, just talking about it.'

I was about to ask more, but Sandra came in, also wearing her robe, and went straight to the coffee pot.

'I'm going shopping as soon as I'm dressed,' she said, 'would you like to come too, Cindy?'

While I sat waiting for my aunt to get ready, my mind did somersaults – I couldn't stop thinking about what Katia had said, and tried to explore my own reactions to what I had witnessed the night before. I wondered what it was like to be tied up, humiliated, brutally whipped. I had to admit it was a fascinating prospect. I had always regarded myself as a coward, cringing at the thought of a visit to the dentist, but I couldn't rid myself of the image of Lucy – her look of longing as she was about to be whipped – and Katia's remark, 'it's what I live for!'

'You are looking thoughtful,' said Sandra as she rummaged in her bag for the car-keys, 'thinking about last night?'

'Yes,' I admitted.

'When we've got the groceries, we'll go for a coffee, and talk about it, shall we?' I nodded agreement, though I still didn't have a clue as to my own feelings, just knew that I had undergone an important experience.

We had trailed around the supermarket, loaded the goods into Sandra's car, and were sitting in the nice clean coffee bar, watching shoppers scurrying around with their trolleys.

'You enjoyed Jimmy last night?' Sandra launched right into the heart of the matter.

I mumbled a positive response, and she laughed lightly.

'He's got a lovely prick,' she said, after a quick glance around to check that we weren't overheard.

'I don't know what came over me,' I said, 'I'm not at all like that.'

'I suppose it was seeing Lucy……seeing her being whipped, I mean.'

'But I'm…….I'm, I mean I've never………' I gave up, and Sandra reached across the table and took my hand in hers.

'You can admit it to me, if you are turned on by our…er, activities, you know. You won't be the first, and the way you wore that dress last night – I should say there's a side of you nobody has ever seen, including you.' She watched me as her words sunk in.

'I don't know,' I said finally, 'there may be something in what you say. Katia fascinates me, and I sense we could become good friends.'

Sandra looked as if she had come to a decision, and said, 'Look, come with us to meet some other friends this afternoon. I'll have to call and check they'll be home, but I've an idea you could find the meeting advantageous.'

She had said 'advantageous' – an odd word to use, I thought, as we toured the dress shops, shoe stores, and ended up buying nothing but a pair of shoes for Sandra, some costume jewellery and perfume, then, when we had almost finished, she insisted on buying me a tiny pleated miniskirt, and two silk blouses. 'You'll look nice in that this afternoon,' she told me, over my protests at the skirt's brevity.

After lunch, I went up and changed. The skirt was almost indecently short, and, when I sat down, I had to cross my legs immediately, before showing my white panties to all and sundry. When I looked at my reflection in the mirror, however, the high heels set off my legs a treat, and I thought perhaps my 'new look' suited me.

Katia disagreed, when I met her in the hallway, telling me I shouldn't wear a bra under the new blouse.

'Gavin likes to look at my tits,' she said, 'and you have lovely ones – much nicer than mine.' I supposed I should have been flattered, but took in the fact that Katia wore a skirt and blouse almost identically to mine – was it deliberate on Sandra's part?

I was unaccountably nervous when we reached the big house on the outskirts of town, and Mark trotted up three wide steps, and rang the doorbell. Gavin, who answered the door, was gorgeous! He was blond – almost Scandinavian in appearance, and wore black jeans and a Ralph Lauren polo shirt. When he greeted me with a hug and kisses on both cheeks, he carried with him the unmistakeable aroma of Monsieur Rochas. As we entered the spacious hallway, a slender, raven-haired woman wearing a fabulous soft leather trouser-suit, hair caught up in a pony-tail, came and was introduced to me as Gavin's wife, Lidia. She had a faint accent - Sandra had told me she was Spanish.

We all sat on comfortable chairs in their beautifully appointed lounge, where the coffee pot was awaiting us. I was acutely conscious of my bare legs, hardly any part of which was covered by my skirt, and so, I noticed, was Gavin, who kept looking in my direction.

'So what are you going to do,' Lidia was asking me.

'I don't know,' I replied, 'I shall have to start looking for a job soon. Probably in a store or something.'

At that point, I saw a look pass between Lidia and Sandra, and Sandra cleared her throat, then said to me, 'Perhaps you would consider coming to work for Lidia and Gavin? They are looking for someone.'