Six 03

"Sam tells me we're pretty much off desserts, and when it comes to fitness and nutrition, she's the domme and I'm the slave," I laughed, but only because it was so fucking true. It really doesn't seem right, sometimes, Cecelia, does it!

I ordered Six to stand up and to go get the satchel he and Five had brought. I made him undress and to put on the upper-body harness and the leather briefs with the snap-on codpiece. He was awkward and embarrassed doing it in front of the three of us. Sam, having finished her plate knelt somewhat uncomfortably, her hands still cuffed behind her, and stared at him a little hungrily. She had, I suspected, a little thing for him.

"What's he weigh now?" I asked her.

"150, Mistress."

"Nice, but let's bring it down a little more. Maybe 145 or even 140. I want him to be a lean, mean, bitch-slave machine. Understood? I don't know if a full six pack is realistic, but it's something to work toward, yes?"

"Yes, ma'am. Give me a few weeks, if you please. I want you to be happy with him."

I gave Five the key to Sam's cuffs and told her to undo them. She walked over and knelt behind Sam, glancing down at that gorgeous bottom as she clicked and ratcheted open the cuffs. Sam massaged her wrists and groaned a little.

"Is there a problem, Sam?" I asked pointedly.

"No, Ma'am. Thank you for asking."

"Sam and Six, you clear and wash up. When you're done, return to the living room, kneel with legs spread, wrists behind your head, and await further instructions. Sam, you can help Six figure out where dishes are kept and so on. But besides that, you're not to speak to each other. Five, you're coming with me."

I took Five's hand and took her to my bedroom, bringing the dimmer switch up a hair for some ambient light. She was in continuing awe of the space I had. I led her up the couple steps to sliding door of the bedroom balcony.

"Quite a view, huh?"

She nodded. The lights of the city and the shadows from the raindrops danced across her beige dress. I unzipped it for her. "Let's step out of this," I said.

**

A half-hour later I retrieved Six and Samantha from the living room, where they were waiting, as instructed, kneeling, legs spread, wrists behind their heads. "I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long," I chuckled. I inspected the kitchen, which was spotless. Sam's a keeper, Cecelia. Gorgeous, obedient, adventurous, and a hell of a maid too.

"Six, maybe you're wondering what I've done with your fiancee?"

He looked straight ahead and said nothing. "You can answer her," said Sam, also looking straight ahead, not over at him.

"Yes, Mistress. I have been wondering."

"What do you think I've been doing with her?"

"It would be impertinent to guess, Ma'am."

"Or your imagination isn't up to it, hmm? Well, let me show you then. Follow me."

I led them into the bedroom. Five was standing, nude, with a leather neck and wrist spreader bar holding her wrists up tight, hands parallel with her ears, and another spreader bar just above her knees separating her legs widely.

"Say hello, Five."

She murmured an exquisitely embarrassed hello.

"Over here, Six," I commanded. "Samantha, collar him, put on his wrist restraints, and clip his wrists to the collar behind his neck."

"Yes, Madam," said Sam.

Six grunted a little when Sam pulled his elbows back to secure his wrists.

"Is that uncomfortable?" she asked him. "You can answer me because I'm acting on behalf of your Mistress."

"I'm OK," he said. "Thanks."

His position lengthened his torso and accentuated his chest, arm, and back muscles in a flattering way. I patted him on his leather-brief bottom encouragingly.

"Go ahead and kiss your girlfriend," I said. He approached Five slowly and kissed her at first gently, then more passionately. When she responded, because of her restraints, there was a beautiful little sway to accompany her excited breathing. "That's enough," I said. "Back up, Six."

"Samantha, in the top left drawer of my dresser you'll find a little black cardboard box. Fetch it for me, please. . . . Now go ahead and open it and show it to our guests."

Six and Five looked in somewhat alarmed bewilderment at the two lacquered, black sticks with screw tighteners securing them at each end. "Oh my," said Sam, knowingly. I hadn't given her permission to speak, but I let it go.

"Stick your tongue out, Five. . . . Farther. . . . Farther still, as far as you can stick it out." I slid the device onto her tongue and all the way back to her teeth and lips. She murmured in a touch of primal fear. A tongue is a very intimate thing, after all.

"Shhh," I said. "You won't be conversing for a while and I'd like you quiet now." I tightened the screws, leaving her tongue out helpless, dry. "Well, just for fun," I said, "try to talk. Better yet, try to sing. How about 'God Bless America.'" She looked at me, trying to figure out if I was serious. In answer to that look, I squeezed her nipples hard. "'God Bless America,' Five, right now."

She tried singing the tune in a hoarse terrified voice, but of course the words were no where to be found. No tongue. No words.

"I don't think she's going to make it to the finals with that performance, do you, kids?" Six and Sam were silent. "I asked you a question."

"No, Ma'am, that didn't sound too good," Sam said gamely, feeling the tension in the room rising a bit. Six just shook his head in agreement and I let it go at that.

"Sam, in the right top drawer of my dresser, you'll find a red cardboard box. Would you mind bringing that to me as well?"

"Right away, Ma'am."

That one contained the nose restraint, two curved little pieces of metal, one for each nostril, attached to a leather string with a handy clip at the end. I spread Five's nostrils up humiliatingly, like a kid's nose pressed pig-like up against a window for kicks. I brought the string over the middle of her forehead and down the back of her head on the other side, wound the slack around the spreader bar's collar, and clipped it tight at an unforgiving tension.

Five grunted in a scared, animalistic fashion that turned me on hugely. A little nose torture is a beautiful thing.

"I know," I said. "We're stepping up our game now, aren't we, sweetie. Slavery doesn't always look or feel too fashionable does it. Sometimes it's downright disgusting and humiliating. Are those tears? Is that a little mucus running from your nose? How awkward for you. Would you like me to take a picture and send it to your colleagues?"

She couldn't shake or in fact move her head without seriously hurting her nose. She grunted louder at my cruel joke and the tears came harder.

"I would never do that. I take our contracts and our relationships seriously. I'm sorry. That was a nasty little joke, wasn't it." She looked terrified now, wondering, perhaps, if it would have been better never to have met me.

"Six, comfort your fiancee, would you? Kiss her tongue."

It was awkward and exotic, strange and alluring, as he followed orders.

"Now bite it, just gently. A little love bite."

He did so and she grunted again at her vulnerability, at what strange submissive beasts they'd become. How did this all happen? she may have wondered. How did it happen so quickly?

I told Six to kneel and had him kiss and gently bite her breasts and nipples, then her beautiful belly. Then I rotated her so that he could kiss and nibble on her ass cheeks, then rotated her once more.

"Now her pussy, my friend. Lick it well. Lick it all over," I instructed. "Sam, be a doll and spread her labia to give him better access, given that his hands aren't really free to do that himself."

Sam, ever the good sport and probably dripping in anticipation herself, nodded and did as she was instructed.

"Just focus on her clit now, Six. A little longer. A bit more. . . . Five, you mustn't come yet."

Five was gently moaning now. Her head immobilized, mucus running from her nose onto her forcibly outstretched tongue, she couldn't look down at her partner's head and cuffed hands as he went down on her.

"Stop, Six." I pulled his face away from her wet groin. I freed his hands and had him lie down on his back on the wooden floor. Then I removed Five's leg spreader bar.

"Sam, help me lower her carefully. I don't want her to rip her nose off or anything. How would we explain that at the ER?"

We lowered Five's pussy onto Six's mouth.

"Finish her off, Six. Samantha, you come here."

Five gently rocked atop Six's tongue, her tears of pleasure, pain, and humiliation mixing now with the snot and falling not just onto her tongue now but down onto her pert little breasts.

Meantime, I took Sam's face gently into my hands and kissed her eyes and then, quite chastely, I assure you, Cecelia, her mouth. Nothing too inappropriate. "You've been so good and I know you are probably so fucking horny at this point that you could come if I just told you to."

"I probably could, Ma'am."

I slapped her and spit in her face. "I didn't ask you a question," I said. "Shut up and pull your thong off. Now cross your arms behind your back." I must say, Cecelia, with only her boots on she looked utterly delicious. I pulled a condom onto a slim little vibrator and teased her with it as she watched Five, in quiet ecstatic agony now, writhe atop her man's face. "When Five comes, Samantha, you must come for me too."

"Yes, Madam. I will. Thank you."

As Five started to buck and rock a little harder, I pressed the tip of the vibrator harder against Sam's clitoris.

When Five climaxed, it was with a literally tongue-tied little scream, a sound unlike any I'd yet heard from her. Seconds later, Sam groaned happily and pushed her cunt up against the vibrator in a final happy thrust. She too cried out and had worked up a delightful little sheen of perspiration.

"Nicely done, Sam. Why don't you wash up. I'll take care of this."

I helped Five up, removed the nose, tongue, and neck-and-arm restraints, and led her to sit atop a towel I'd placed on my bed. You know how tidy I am.

"Why don't you just sit here and collect your thoughts for a while. Did you enjoy yourself?"

"You bitch!" she said, the words forming in her mind for all those minutes finally able to escape her unclamped tongue. I lifted her chin and she braced herself for a slap, or worse. But instead, I said, simply, "Yes. You see, it's not a game. It's a life. And this was just the beginning. Think about it. Think whether this is really what you want. If it isn't, that will be that. I understand. Things often come apart at this stage of the game. But if it is what you want, text me a haiku by midnight Tuesday describing the experience."

"A haiku? Seriously? You know that's mildly offensive, right? You know I'm Chinese-American, not Japanese-American."

"A haiku. You don't have to be Japanese to write a fucking haiku. And why are you speaking? I didn't ask you a question. What the fuck? When are you going to get that rule?"

I'd really lost my shit for a second and she started crying again. I regained my composure and turned toward Six, who was still lying on the floor, awaiting instructions, I suppose, or wondering when he'd have a chance to get his rocks off. With his crotch hidden beneath the codpiece, I couldn't tell what his phallic status was, but I could guess.

"Nice work, Six. Are you waiting for someone to make you climax as well?"

"No, Ma'am," he said. "I already have."

Men - don't you just love 'em?

**

At 11:52 p.m. Tuesday, I received a text from Five. It read:

love shocked to surface

bitter tears season passion

future's lightning bright

**

Love,

Diana