WBDP - Brianna Delivers Pt. 14

Chantelle's going to go on a date with Joe tomorrow. I don't expect it will change Chantelle's mind about what she wants to do with her life. To her, it's more fun and games. I need to run, Chantelle has filled the tub and we're taking a bath together. I love you, Marcia. All my love, Sam.

Because I didn't know when Marcia would have a chance to read my reply, I texted Brianna and told her to take a lot of pictures and movies of her delectable new slave. I got a rapid response. "Way ahead of you, Sam. Of course, you can imagine what she's doing now."

I didn't bother replying because I certainly did know what she was doing now, and I was hard again. I hopped in the tub with Chantelle, waving my cock around like a flag and she laughed.

"Do you need this taken care of, Monsieur?"

"Not yet, I'm going to give it a minute. Just sit in front of me and relax for now, maybe it will go away."

She sat in front of me leaned back against my chest. I idly fondled her breasts as we soaked in the hot water, making her nipples hard and puffy. She let me fondle them. What could she do? She was a slave.

"What made Monsieur get hard so quickly? We just fucked."

"Marcia sent me an email, explaining her slavery to Brianna. I gave her a gift before she left. Put it in her luggage. It was a strapless strap-on; Marcia said Brianna was going to be using it on her tonight. My imagination got the best of me again."

"Oui, Monsieur. I understand."

After awhile, it was no longer enough to caress her breasts. I began nuzzling her neck, kissing her ears. One hand reached down between her legs, stroking her pussy. She turned toward me, angling her face up, surrendering her lips to mine. Finally, she just turned and plastered her body against mine, sitting on my legs. We kissed, making out like a couple teenagers. My hard-on wasn't going away. It was only getting harder. Chantelle raised herself up and lowered herself down on my cock, once again squeezed in her well exercised, well lubricated, wonderful cunt. Chantelle rode me slow and easy, sliding up and down my pole, rubbing her soft breasts against my chest.

"Monsieur, I'd love for you to fuck my ass," Chantelle whispered.

"In the bed?" I asked.

"No, Monsieur, right here, right now."

"I don't have any lube," I said.

She looked at the bottles lining the sink. "There, Monsieur, the body lotion."

I found what she was looking at and thought, why not. It might keep my wang from getting wrinkles. I grabbed the small bottle and she knelt in the tub, her pussy just above the water. I opened the top and put a generous dollop of the stuff around her rectal ring and rubbed it around, greasing her entry. I put more of the lotion on the crown of my cock and spread it over the helmet. Ready at last, I held my shaft and aimed it at the crinkled brown hole. I felt her bottom relax and I slowly pushed past the sphincter.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"More than okay, Monsieur. Push it all the way in. Let me feel all of your cock in my derrière."

I flexed and put half my cock in her. She sighed in delight. "More, Monsieur, more." I finished putting it in. My dangling balls were rubbing against her pussy.

"Mon Dieu, Monsieur. It is incredible. Fuck me, S' il vous plaît."

Starting slow, I plunged into her back door, withdrew, and plunged again. She was driving back on me, trying to get more of me inside her. I began picking up steam, going faster and faster. She met me lunge for lunge, moaning magnificently as she captured my mast and massaged it in her rectum. I felt the familiar stirrings of my approaching orgasm. With one hand, I sought her clit, seeking to rub the erect nubbin to make her crest when I did. The other hand caught a dangling breast and caressed the stiff, hard nipple. I hoped she'd cum soon because I wasn't going to last much longer.

She slammed against me and exploded in a flurry of moans and splashing water, clutching my cock, milking me of my cum, whimpering her pleasure. I joined her, letting go, feeling the surge of juice up my stalk and into her darkest depths, jerking and twitching as I flooded her bowels.

"Magnifique, Monsieur," she moaned. "It is wonderful."

Kneeling there with my prick buried in her magnificent posterior, I had to agree. It was magnificent. Eventually, my overworked cock shrank and started to be squeezed out.

"Adieu mon beau pénis," Chantelle said as it slipped from her bottom. "Jusqu'à ce que nous nous rencontrions."

"My French is too limited to know what you just said."

"Goodbye my beautiful penis. Until we meet again, Monsieur."

I started laughing, as did Chantelle. She turned around and started soaping my penis.

"The good thing about fucking in the bath, it is so easy to clean up," Chantelle said.

We spent a few minutes washing each other up, then got out and dried off. Done, she led me to the bed. I helped her put the top sheet and bed cover back on the bed, along with the pillows. When we pulled them over ourselves, she backed against me, rubbing her soft cheeks against my groin.

"Monsieur, I hope I made up in some small way for losing your lovely Marcia for a couple weeks?"

"You did a wonderful job, Chantelle. I won't say I don't miss her, but you've made her loss bearable."

"Merci, Monsieur. I will see you in the morning. Wake me if you need to use me."

"You quite wore me out. I think you'll sleep soundly tonight." She nestled more closely in my arms. "Good."

******

When the alarm went off the next day, Chantelle wanted to fuck again, but I told her we had no time to play around this morning. She begged a little until I reminded her who was slave and who the Master. We needed to rent a truck and get to my house before Joe came to pick up his grill. I also told her she'd need to wear clothes, at least until the truck was loaded as I couldn't park it in my garage, so to wear something fairly comfortable. I suggested shoes in case something dropped on her toes. We swung through a drive through for breakfast and headed to a truck rental place nearby.

Only needing the panel truck for a couple days max, I only put myself on the rental agreement. I asked Chantelle if she remembered how to get to the place we purchased our boxes yesterday. She said she did, so I sent her to buy more in the car while I took the truck back home. I got started loading the smaller items on the truck and she arrived a half hour later with more boxes and packing tape.

"Listen," I told Chantelle, "Joe can't know about your slavery, or Marcia's, or that I'm a Master. He knows you sleep with Brianna. I told him you liked girls more than guys, but you're not averse to the occasional fellow. He knows Brianna's children are mine, but not how they were put in her womb. Pretty much everything the slightest bit out of the ordinary should be kept from him. I'm not saying you can't let him try his handcuffs on you, but don't make it sound like an everyday occurrence. I don't know how strait-laced he is. He was upset when he found out Brianna was having my child until he knew Marcia knew and was good with it because she couldn't give me children. You're a normal girl who's likes girls, helping out a friend get the house ready for the move."

"Oui, Monsieur. I understand."

"You might want to tone down the Monsieur while he's here or around you. I don't know if he understands French and he might wonder about you calling me Sir all the time. Call me Sam, or Hey, You."

"Yes, 'Hey, you'. I will be a good little girl, just like the one my Papa raised. You will not have to punish me,...yet. If I might make a suggestion; since your bed is still here for a few more days and we do not have a fully functioning kitchen at the hotel, we sleep here on days we need to work the following day, and only go to the Hyatt when we do not."

"I almost feel like I'm wasting money, but it sounds like a good idea. We should be done here in two more days tops, though I'll have to come back on Monday for the movers. Then we have to clean out the refrigerator and vacuum and scrub the whole house. Any unused food not past its expiration date we'll give to the Harry Chapin Food Bank. That should take about two days, then the power goes out and we're in the Hyatt for good."

"Oui, Sam. So about half and half, here and the Hyatt."

"I think so."

We finished loading the smaller items on the truck when Joe arrived.

"Great! You're just in time to help us load the heavy items on the truck, after which Chantelle will fix us lunch while we drink some of our leftover beer. Then I'll help you get the grill in your vehicle"

"Okay. I'm easy."

He came into the house. "Whoa! This place is really emptied out."

"Those boxes by the stereo are all things the mover is taking out of here, plus the kitchen stuff like dishes, pots and pans and the bedroom and the big red couch. The six boxes in the living room are going in the car with me along with one suitcase of clothes for the drive and a knapsack filled with my personal electronics like laptop and iPad. Most of the stuff going to Goodwill is already in the truck except for the two big chairs, a credenza, and a couple end tables. The mover is coming on Monday and the house gets cleaned after they leave. Then, it's just waiting for the house closing and we can take off."

After looking around a little, Joe asked, "Where does Chantelle sleep? You've only got the one bed."

"I have a room at the Hyatt," Chantelle said. "I was staying there with my employer while she came for the party."

"What do you do for her?"

"Mostly cooking. I also model her jewelry for her in her catalogs and some trade shows."

"I could easily see you being a model. You're very lovely."

She gave a small curtsy. "Merci, kind sir."

"Let's get the stuff into the truck and we can take it easy," I suggested.

"Where?" Joe asked. "After we put the chairs in the truck, all we have is the couch. Where are we going to eat?"

"Voila." I pulled out the TV trays. "Plus the couch. What else do we need?"

"Sure," he said, "let's do it."

The easy chairs were big and bulky, in addition to being heavy, and hard to get through all the doorways we had to pass through. They had to be turned sideways, which meant you couldn't get a good grip on anything and Chantelle couldn't help because even she couldn't go through a door with the chair. It took almost ninety minutes to get all the stuff on the truck, including a credenza which didn't sell at the garage sale. It had a rattan looking exterior, but weighed a ton. At least it fit through the door.

Chantelle started making lunch, while I gave Joe a beer and grabbed one for myself.

"Listen, I have to mow my lawn once more before I go, but I don't need a lawn mower or weed whacker where I'm going. Lawn maintenance is provided. Do you need a mower? It's self-propelled. Otherwise, I'll leave it here for the new owners."

"I'm good. I live in an apartment. Single, no kids; no point in owning a home yet. I'm trying to put aside money for a down payment when I'm ready."

"Look around. Anything I'm not taking, you're welcome to have, although most of it's on the truck already."

"Sure. I'll take a peak."

"Sam, that picture of the small pond in the woods; what's the meaning of the picture?" Chantelle asked.

"I bought it just after joining the service. There was about twenty acres of woods across the road from where I lived. I used to run around them all the time. There were a couple ponds in there and they looked kind of like that picture. I bought it to remind me of home."

"Are you keeping it?" Chantelle asked.

"I'm keeping that one, plus the metal sculpture thing on the wall there; a couple duck paintings and one with a loon. The ones that look like the Everglades, I'm going to get rid of. I can find places for the others, but not those. They won't go with the rest of the house. The metal wall piece looks like it could be California coastline.

"I could use some art. Let me see the paintings you're getting rid of."

I showed him the stuff I couldn't use anymore.

"This is some nice stuff. I wouldn't mind these two."

"Help yourself, really."

"Thanks."

"Come and get it," Chantelle said, "lunch is served."

"I'll get us another beer," I said.

Grabbing three more beers, I sat on the couch and handed one to Joe. Chantelle dished us up omelets made with chorizo sausage, sun dried tomatoes, chives and cheese, with a creamy sauce over the top. She sat in between us and I handed her the third beer. We clinked bottles and dug in.

"Oh, man! This is great! I can't believe you made this out of these ingredients. It's just an omelet, but so much more," Joe enthused.

"Yes, well, Chantelle's the best cook you never heard of," I said.

Joe savored every bite, going on and on about how good it was. Maybe I'd gotten way too used to her cooking, but he was right. Simple ingredients, but the sum was greater than the individual parts. We finished lunch, and our beers and I helped Joe get the grill and the extra gas tank in his SUV.

"So, pick you up around 6:30," he said. "Do I pick you up here or at the Hyatt?"

"She doesn't have anything else here but the clothes she's wearing," I said, "so unless you want her to go naked, you'd better pick her up from the Hyatt. I'll make sure she gets back there in time to change and shower."

"Great. Chantelle, I'll see you then," Joe said.

We went back inside and worked for another couple hours, boxing up more clothes, finishing up the closet and emptying the bureau and chest of drawers.

"Monsieur, what's this little box here?" she said pointing to a small chest with padding over the top at the foot of our bed.

"It's our toy box."

"Toy box?" She asked inquisitively. "What kind of toys, Monsieur?"

"Adult toys," I said. "See."

I turned the box around and revealed a 'U' bolt with a hasp passing over it and a lock through it securing the hasp, though the lock was open. I opened the box and in it were all the toys we needed for our games, our whip, a couple different paddles, the riding crop, Marcia's leather cuffs and collar, suspension cuffs, spreader bar, the rope and tackle for her suspension, the dildos and vibrators. Pretty much everything we needed but the St. Andrews cross boxed under the bed.

"You'll notice the top has padding. I made it after Marcia started her submission. I can tie her over it lengthwise or across, face up or face down, securing her to the carrying handles at the corners. It's the perfect height for me to use all three of her holes or keep her bound for the paddle or whip."

Chantelle looked at it, fingering the different things inside. She picked up the riding crop.

She looked up at me. "I want to be tied to it, cropped and fucked, Monsieur."

"Right now? I can't do it now. You're going out with Joe tonight. I can't leave any marks on you."

"Just crop my ass and cunt. He will not see either tonight, nor will he be fucking me."

"You don't plan on fucking him? I thought it was the whole reason you were going out."

"Not on the first date. I do not want him thinking I am easy."

"You're a sex slave, Chantelle, the very essence of easy."

"Not to him, Monsieur. I have to be a good girl with him by your rules. Good girls do not fuck on the first date, probably not the second either. Good lesbians do not fuck men. If he is lucky, he can have me on the third. Now, I want to be used by you. Put me in Marcia's collar and cuffs. Use the riding crop on me, then fuck me. Fuck whatever hole you want. Mistress does not own a riding crop and I want to feel one on me." She started stripping out of her clothes, tossing them on the bed. She grabbed the collar and cuffs and handed them to me. "Please, Monsieur."

She looked at me so earnestly, not a hint of a smile nor trace of mockery in her voice. Very well. I removed my clothes and my cock sprang out like it was spring loaded.

"Kneel, slave."

The first word was barely out of my mouth and she was kneeling at my feet.

"Raise your head and accept the collar."

Chantelle lifted her head so I could get the collar around her neck and fasten it.

"Now the wrists."

She raised her hands to me and one by one, I fastened the leather cuffs about her wrists.

"When I say 'display', I want you to stand straight, with your feet more than a shoulder width apart, and your hands behind your head and your shoulders back. Do you understand?"

"Oui, Monsieur."

"Display."

She jumped to her feet and did exactly as I asked. I knelt down so I could fasten the ankle cuffs. My face was level with her cunt, which was flowering with her arousal, her scent strong to my nose. I fastened a cuff around each ankle and ran a hand lightly up the inside of each of her legs and they twitched and shivered as my hands approached her pussy. She shuddered when I ran my hand lightly through her cunt. I stood up and walked around her, touching all the sensitive spots on her. Her flanks, her buttocks, her breasts, her mound, my hands moved round and touched them all.

"Put your hands behind your back, slave."

I fastened her wrists together behind her back when she followed my instruction. I got a piece of rope from the box and tied a length around her chest, binding her breasts, then tying her wrists to the rope so they were raised higher up her back and couldn't be lowered over her butt.

"Lie down on your front."

Chantelle obeyed and I tied her torso to the chest. I pulled her down until her ass and cunt hung off the end and pulled her legs forward, securing the ankle cuffs to the the front. When I was finished, her legs were spread around the toy chest, pulled toward her head. Her backside and cunt were spread from her position and dangling about six to eight inches off the end. She was pretty exposed and not going anywhere soon.

"I'm going to take some pictures so Marcia can see I'm using you as she wanted and your Mistress can see her lovely slave about to be punished."

"Oui, Monsieur."

I got out my camera and took several pictures of Chantelle trussed up like a turkey. I couldn't help but continue to caress her as I moved around. The last picture I took was of the riding crop lying across her back so it was apparent how she'd be punished. Having taken the pictures capturing every angle of her helplessness, I picked up the crop."

"Are you ready, slave?"

"Oui, Monsieur," she whispered.

Smack, went the crop across the tight flesh of Chantelle's ass and she winced from the sting. Not giving her any time to get used to it, the crop fell ten more times, slashing back and forth over her lovely bottom, leaving red streaks wherever it fell. She was groaning, but it wasn't all pain. I continued with the cropping until I'd given her thirty swats and the cheeks of her ass were red from all the striping. She was gasping a little with the last six or seven.

"The reason I like the position I've tied you in is all of your bottom is unprotected. You ass cheeks are sticking out, your legs are spread. Your ass and cunt are exposed. It's all right there for the taking."

I took the leather piece on the end of the crop and started running it all over her bottom and pussy. When I touched it to her sex, it came back wet.

"You're unable to move, unable to protect yourself, unable to close your legs or lower your arms over your butt. I can crop your pussy and there's nothing you can do."

I started tapping the crop up against the unfurled flower of her sex. It wasn't hard at all, merely a reminder of how open and exposed she was. The tip almost splatted, so drenched in her own juices she was.

She started moaning and whimpered, "Harder, Monsieur. Make me cum. I'm so close."