The girls and the boys next door
My generous friend is repaid
Marie’s exercises and punishments
Julies appetite for knowledge and correction
The nasty games Julie and Samantha had/do play/ed
I run a small import/export business. Nothing fancy but successful and I’d been expanding so I needed help. I was often out of the office at the airport or with customers and it was time to get someone to answer the phones and handle the scheduling. I’d mentioned this to my sometime business associate Graeme. He owed me more than one favour as his business was struggling and I’d been throwing some deals his way. He had a girl, Samantha, working part time but he couldn’t keep her on. He had set up an interview for 4 o’clock and I was thinking about what he’d said as I waited.
“She’s very efficient. I’ve given her quite a bit of training. I’m sure you’ll find her useful, in more ways than one. She’s very obedient”.
It’s an odd choice of words for a person. For a dog it made sense, but for an employee it seemed too much.
At exactly four there was a knock on the door and I let her in. I was very pleasantly surprised by her appearance. She wore a business suit, light grey skirt and jacket over a white blouse. She was very pretty with full lips, long legs and generous heavy breasts.
“I’m pleased to meet you”, she said “and I want to thank you for this opportunity”.
I made some polite comment. We chatted and then I ran through her duties which would include general assistant work. I thought we’d finished and agreed she’d come in at nine the next day to try out, but she had more questions.
“Is there a dress code here?” she asked.
I’m a pretty casual guy and my instinct was to say no, as her attire was just right for the job anyway. On the other hand Graeme’s comments still intrigued me so I thought I’d play it out.
“What sort of thing do you mean?” I asked.
“Well, Graeme insisted on skirts and blouses for female employees”, she explained.
“That will be fine”, I agreed.
“Do you prefer short or long skirts?” she continued.
She had great legs so I decided to push a bit to see how far we could go.
“I guess short is good, if you have no objections”
“How short do you like them?” it was getting interesting now.
She stood up, indicating her skirt, which was about four inches above the knee, “Like this or shorter?”
“Well, if it’s all the same to you I’d say shorter is better”
She grabbed the sides of the skirt and slid it up her thighs another four inches. “Like this?” she asked. I had a good excuse to examine her thighs, which I did for a few long seconds.
Sometimes you have to go for the prize. Fortune favours the bold. “Actually, shorter would be better”.
She raised the skirt to a point that was only a couple of inches below her crotch. “Is that OK?” she asked seriously.
I motioned for her to turn around, which she did and I admit I was beginning to feel aroused. I told her that would be sufficient and she made a note in her little book. We discussed blouses. I’d never had much interest in the details of clothes but I was starting to get interested now. We decided on white blouses. She’d taken off her jacket to show me the one she was wearing. It was translucent, some kind of nylon. You could see her bra through it. It was one of those lacy white things. I told her a mix of tight or loose would be fine, her choice.
“And are there rules about underwear?”
I looked around thinking I must be on Candid Camera. “Such as?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Well, some bosses prefer pantihose. Some prefer bare legs and others”, she paused and glanced at me shyly, “like stockings”.
“Stockings”, she made another note in her book. “And panties?”
“That’s up to you”, I didn’t feel I could go any further.
“With respect, sir, I am much more comfortable and happy in my work if I know exactly what is expected of me”, she said politely.
Decision time again. Hell, a sexual harassment suit was a risk worth taking. “I don’t think you need any, do you?” I enquired smiling at her.
“As you wish sir”, she replied, making another note.
“But in case you do you could keep a black thong in you desk”, I offered. “What do you suggest about bras?”
“Graeme taught me that a secretary could do worse than wear clothes that revealed a hint of the nipples. But there are several options available”.
We discussed the different kinds of bra. I said I was partial to those webby things that seemed to add bounce. I agreed that, like Graeme, I considered a hint of nipples a good thing. She told me of the different kinds of push up and shelf bras. I asked about the one she was wearing. She offered to show it to me and I was quick to accept the offer. She took off the blouse and stood closer to me. I ran my thumb over a nipple and commented that a bra, if one were worn, should allow the outline of an erect nipple to tent through it, as this one did. I also suggested that in the casual environment of the office a bra was not always necessary. She agreed, of course, and added to her notes.
She allowed that Graeme had taught her that this type of discussion could lead to a sort of tension which was counterproductive in an office and if she had created this tension it was her duty to relieve it. I had her kneel between my legs and suck my cock as I fondled her breasts through the lacy bra. I remember thinking that I had more than one reason to look forward to coming to work from now on. I bent her over the desk and entered her quickly. She was wet and responsive. I called Graeme and thanked him, telling him I thought it would work out very well as I pumped. I hung up and pushed her to her knees and took her mouth again. She swallowed me to the root and I remarked to myself that a well-trained secretary was a godsend.
With that kind of opportunity available all day every day it was difficult to work solidly for any length of time. It got to the stage where I was fucking her 2 or 3 times a day. Sam never gave any sign that this was unusual or onerous to her. While she genuinely enjoyed our sessions she didn’t lose her self-possession and if I just used her mouth for relief, thus denying her any release, she did not complain. She seemed to think that pleasing me in a sexual way was a perfectly normal part of a secretary’s job and was satisfying for that reason alone. Seduction, therefore, was not part of the deal. Like everyman’s dream she was always available, never demanding. I would test her sometimes.
My office was quite large and the desk, which backed on to a window, had room at both sides. One morning I had come into work and found Sam already there, as usual. I nodded good morning. After a few minutes reviewing phone calls and emails I called her in and motioned her around to my side. That day she was wearing a loose pleated black mini. I’d told her before that loose minis were better than tight. They could be lifted quickly and so office efficiency would improve. She’d taken that on board. She stood patiently a step from my chair.
“Lift your skirt”
She quickly complied and pulled the hem up as far as it would go without any hesitation or coyness. I believe she found our arrangement stimulating. I let the edge of my index finger slide through her pubic hair and found the moisture beginning to flow.
“I’ve made an appointment for you to get a Brazilian wax at lunch time”, I told her.
She was to get the full treatment and go back as often as necessary to maintain a perfectly smooth pubis. I wasn’t paying her a huge amount and it sometimes seemed most of what she did get was spent on pleasing me. I only had to mention that I liked a certain item of clothing, or a hairstyle and the following day she’d be wearing it. I had her straddle me in my chair and she appeared to have an orgasm or two as we leisurely fucked. The rest of the day was normal enough and by the time I locked up we had achieved quite a lot.
The next morning I stopped at a pharmacy on the way to work and bought a large jar of petroleum jelly. She was typing on the computer as I walked in. I told her to stand and made her come around her desk to face me. Without a word I unbuttoned her blouse and pulled it off her body. On that day she had worn a bra and as I reached around her to unclip it I felt her breath coming in short pants on my neck. I turned her then and used the bra to tie her hands behind her back. She no more objected to this than anything else I had done. I was starting to wonder if there was anything she would ever object to.
I pushed her lightly to indicate she should bend over the desk. Her breasts flattened against its surface disturbing the pencils and paperclips. Her face was resting at the side of the computer monitor. I flipped her skirt up and it lay over the small of her back. She was completely bare and the look excited me. The black frame of the garter belt and stockings contrasted with her skin. I unzipped and applied some of the jelly to her anus. I’d never taken her this way before. The little gasp she made as I touched her could have been apprehension, surprise, or even excitement. In any case she widened her stance a little and I started to wedge myself into her. As I made progress with little jabs she’d grunt quietly. As excited as I was I wanted this to last so it was nearly ten minutes before I was all the way inside her and I laid myself on top of her to rest for a moment and let both of us get used to the sensation. Then I started to move in and out very slowly, gradually building the pace. It was evident she was in some pain but she did not try to evade her duty. In the end I was giving it to her hard and she was letting out little gasps every time my thighs slapped into her. I came in her and the force of it left me breathless.
My left hand rested on the desk by her waist. With my right I stroked the side of her breast where it bulged out under her weight. She shifted as if to get up but she actually just turned her torso so my hand could gain access to her whole breast. I took advantage and rolled her nipple between my fingers as I recovered my breath. After a time I untied her hands and slipped from her.
Things went well after that. Samantha proved unusually amenable to my suggestions and the more demanding I became the calmer and more satisfied she seemed. We had progressed to the stage where, if I called her from home at night or on the weekend she’d come over to my home and give herself over to whatever activity I required.
If it was a routine it was an exciting one. Maybe not every man dreamed of a beautiful woman available for any sexual act at any time but I’ll bet most did. No strings, no courtship or arguments. No hint of reluctance or resistance. When I wanted to fuck her I did, any way I wanted. Her work was good. She frequently arrived at the office before I did and worked hard and intelligently.
She rarely made mistakes, but when she did she told me as soon as she noticed. One day she came into my office and informed me that a letter concerning an import shipment had been returned to the office because she’d neglected to put a stamp on it. It was no big deal as there was still plenty of time to resend it. Nevertheless she stood before my desk with eyes downcast and her hands twisting the front of her skirt. I asked her if there was anything else.
I’d bought two little whips. One for home, and one for the office. There hadn’t been many times since then that she didn’t have fresh red welts somewhere on her body. Even this hadn’t perturbed her. Even this she seemed to accept it as perfectly natural. While being whipped she obviously experienced a considerable amount of pain and had taken to gagging herself with whatever was handy to prevent her cries being so loud as to alarm my neighbours. Even so, she recovered her composure quickly and readied herself to return to her duties in a remarkably short time.
She never questioned my right to deliver these punishments, nor even asked what they were for. She didn’t even try to avoid them. Of course they were really for my pleasure. She was a good worker who never made any serious mistakes. She knew it and was never surprised that after her whippings she invariably had to serve me sexually. I had the feeling she believed this was a normal state of affairs between a man and a woman. I suspected this was something she was somewhat inclined to, and had been exposed to from an early age.
One Saturday as I watched her vacuum my living room floor in her little black dress I could tell she had something she wanted to say. The dress had buttons all the way up the front and I’d undone it to the waist so I could watch her breasts sway as she worked. Her vigorous actions made them jump and shiver and her nipples played peek-a-boo. Notwithstanding the buttock flogging and enthusiastic anal fucking she’d had only half an hour before I was starting to get the familiar urge again. She finished her work and slowly moved to kneel in front of my chair.
“Sir, I wondered if I could talk to you,” she said.
I motioned with my hand and she obediently opened the top of her dress that had closed too far. Her breasts were large enough to hold the dress apart if she wasn’t moving.
“You know since my father died my sister, Julie, has been living at home with my mother. They haven’t had much contact with the world, out there in the country but now she is looking for a job. I’ve told her about you and my work and she wanted me to ask you if you had any kind of job for her”, she looked at me hopefully.
“Did you tell her everything about your job?”
“Yes sir, I told her everything. She doesn’t mind what work she does, is there any way you could help?”
I looked into her eyes and reached down to thumb her nipples. She looked down to avoid my gaze but arched her back a little, whether to please me or to increase the stimulation I didn’t know.
She added, “Julie doesn’t have any experience beyond domestic work and I thought, because you have such a big house…” the sentence trailed away into silence.
“Well, I’ve enjoyed having you here to do that Samantha.”
“Yes sir, I know,” she started, “I’d be happy to come over anytime even if she were here. I meant that perhaps, if she lived here, it might be more convenient for you. If you wanted something you wouldn’t have to wait for me to get here from my flat. She’s very quiet, if you didn’t want to be disturbed you could have her stay in her room”.
It was an intriguing proposition. I valued my privacy, sure, but sometimes a man’s got to take his chances. Apparently her mother, Marie, was all in favour of Julie working and the two of them planned a trip to the city the following week. I agreed to talk to them and arranged to meet them at an Italian restaurant not too far from my house the next Friday night. I made Samantha understand that I expected both her mother and her sister to conform to her own clothing specifications. She did not demur and expressed her gratitude to me.
I rewarded my own generosity by blindfolding her and having her kneel in the centre of the room with her hands behind her head and whipped her breasts thoroughly. I had decided fifteen good strokes would be enough but added a couple extra because at one stage she was unable to prevent her elbows from sneaking forward and impeding my aim. Afterwards, to prolong the agony, I had her lie on her back and slid my cock between her breasts, which were copiously lubricated by her tears and held firmly together by my hands, and took my pleasure that way. By now she knew she was to gather my sperm with her fingers and lick them clean.
Even after this she apologised for her misdemeanour and thanked me for allowing her sister to, in effect, be exposed to the same treatment. She was instructed to show her bruised breasts to her mother and sister in their hotel room before she brought them to the restaurant. I allowed that if they decided not to go through with the arrangement I would understand. Samantha assured me this would not be the case and I was left to wonder again just what kind of house they had all lived in. Undoubtedly her late father had ruled it with unquestioned authority.
In the event she was correct. They all arrived a little early at my table and rather than horror or resentment I discerned only deference in their collective demeanour. Possibly they had been unable to fashion an adequate life without the discipline of their former home and were now seeking to replicate it in mine.
The mother was in her forties, of course, but well preserved. Nobody could fail to note her extraordinarily large breasts. She’d been very well endowed naturally but her husband, evidently a breast man, had insisted on implants to increases her bust proportions even more. She had gone to some trouble with her appearance. She was wearing a sheer grey, backless evening gown belted at the waist and high heels. I guessed there was some kind of built-in bra because her nipples were not discernible through the material. I couldn’t help imagining standing behind her and sliding my hands into her dress to fondle them. I am not one of those spellbound by huge breasts, but I don’t mind them either. The hem of the gown was a relatively modest couple of inches above the knee.
Julie, a charmingly pretty dark haired girl, was reluctant to speak. She kept her eyes down and responded to my gentle questions with short answers in a soft voice. Unlike her mother and sister she was moderately endowed but no less attractive for that. Her dress was an elegant but very short black cotton wraparound. The thin material revealed her charms in profile but was not transparent. Samantha, having gone directly from the office to the hotel was dressed in her standard work garb. All in all the evening was looking most promising.
Small talk gradually gave way to talk of their lives in the country house, which had been the family home since before the girls were born. The father, who was still clearly missed greatly by them all, had been a very forceful man who believed that women were naturally inclined to submit to the will of men. I can’t say this had been my experience but he had found a woman who was already fully indoctrinated in this belief by her own father. Having his family isolated from outside influence and schooling the girls at home had allowed him to impose his will without restraint. There was no suggestion that the girls had been the subjects of their father’s sexual interest. By the same token they had grown up obeying his orders without question and their parents had made no special attempt to hide the sexual side of their relationship.
Samantha told of the time she had come home to find her father pumping her freshly whipped mother as she bent over the sink. Although relatively young at the time she’d been able to tell that this was an activity capable of giving great pleasure. Her father, having trained Marie to his requirements, was able to bring her to a very noisy orgasm on that occasion. Without embarrassment Samantha described how Marie had gone to her knees to clean her husband with her mouth before returning, naked, to preparing the evening meal with lines of their commingled juices running down her legs and whip marks on her buttocks. Samantha’s reaction to this graphic display was not the horror one might have expected. On the contrary, she had become somewhat excited herself and had gone to bed that night dreaming of the day when she too would be married.
The three of them gave the impression that they were relieved to be able to talk openly about their unusual past. I was fascinated and starting to understand just what was being offered to me. I was daunted by the responsibility too. These women were looking for someone to take responsibility for their lives and provide them with the discipline and sexual release they craved. It would mean changing my priorities quite a bit but with Samantha helping in the office and Julie running the house I figured I’d have some extra time.
The conversation turned to mundane topics until the coffee came. I told Samantha to go home. I’d take Marie and Julie to my house so they could familiarise themselves with the layout and get an idea of the work Julie would be doing. When we got there I surprised her with a dirty bathroom and some cleaning products. I think she had been expecting a more lubricious test of her talents but she set to work. I watched for a moment as she bent over the bath and the hem of her dress rose to show her panties. They were white and transparent at the back but not at the crotch. I returned to the living room where I invited the still standing Marie to sit in one of two facing armchairs and I took the other after pulling it close enough to hers that our feet could touch.
The whole situation was unusual, to say the least, but the part I wasn’t sure about was her attitude to my use of her daughters. It’s understandable that a woman offer herself up for use and abuse by a man but quite a different thing to offer her daughters. You’d think natural parental protectiveness would interfere.
She seemed slightly afraid to speak and I let the silence linger as my eyes roamed slowly over her body. I made sure she noticed the particular attention I paid to her breasts.
“You’re a very attractive woman Marie. I see where the girls get their looks”, I said, finally looking at her face in time to catch her blushing. She sat up a little straighter under the praise and I wondered again at the mindset of a woman who could sit through a graphic description of her perverse relationship with her husband as if it were the most natural thing in the world and now blushed at the most banal of compliments.
“Thank you, but I’m afraid I’ve let myself go a little. No discipline really. I’m a bit fat”.
I raised one eyebrow, “Really? I wouldn’t have said so. Where are you carrying this extra weight?”
“You know, the usual places. My thighs, my…rear”, she had to search for precisely the right word.
I gazed steadily into her eyes, enjoying her discomfort. Like Richard Burton before me, I felt the need to explore.
“Well, I hope you don’t mind if I check that for myself”, I said, leaning forward.
I grasped the hem of her dress and began to roll it upwards in a loose fold. Her hands, which had been resting in her lap twisting the material nervously, actually rose to allow me to continue but hovered there as if she really wasn’t sure. I pressed on, revealing more of her legs and when the material caught underneath her I told her to lift up. She complied and I completed the movement tucking the roll into the waistband and revealing her high cut lace panties through which her dark pubic hair was visible. She held her legs together but not clamped.
“You know, when a woman gains weight it often shows first in her upper thighs, up here”, as I spoke I slid the fingertips of my right hand lightly upward from inside her right knee. She didn’t speak but allowed her legs to part just enough to give me access. I pinched a fold of flesh hard enough to hurt a little and she bit her bottom lip. I had the feeling she had a strong desire for me to continue my expedition but I let her go and sank back in my chair.
“Yes, you are a little overweight”, I continued uncharitably.
That broke the spell and she sat back in her chair, but made no move to re-cover herself.
“I know. I’m sorry. I haven’t had anyone to keep in shape for”, she apologised.
“That’s OK, it isn’t terminal. Maybe I can help. If you like, the two of you could check out of the hotel and stay here with me for a couple of weeks. I’m a good motivator”, I offered as all sorts of plans occurred to me.
“You’re very kind, but we wouldn’t want to be too much trouble. I mean, you’ve already given Samantha a job. You might be employing Julie and I don’t think you’d want their old mother hanging around.”
“I might find a use for you too. But I’ve been curious, did Samantha show you what I did to her chest?”
“Oh yes, she showed us both. She said you’d told her to”
“Doesn’t that concern you; that I treat her that way?”
“Not at all. My own husband, John, used to do that to me often, and worse”
“He whipped your breasts?”
“Of course”, she replies as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
“And you didn’t object?”
“Not at all. We both enjoyed it. Well… I didn’t actually enjoy it as it was happening but it usually worked out very satisfactorily. He liked to do it and I was his wife so it was my duty, and my pleasure, to accommodate his desires. Although sometimes I was afraid he’d go too far”
“In what way?”
“Sometimes he used a little dog whip. Because it was so thin it would split the skin and leave a scar. But that only happened a few times and he enjoyed it so much I didn’t have the heart to say anything. I thought he might find the scars ugly but he always said they were pretty”
“Really? Why don’t you show me?”
She hesitated only for a second then reached behind her neck to release the clasp and draw the bodice down. Her breasts sagged a little but not anywhere near as much as you would expect. They were large and round and even with my large hands I couldn’t have encompassed them entirely. The bodice had a kind of bra incorporated into it, not much more than two thin cups velcroed to the lining. Her nipples were erect and transpierced by gold rings about one inch in diameter. There were four or five thin pink lines which were the scars she had mentioned. I admit I found them pretty, and stimulating. I reached out and ran my finger over one that ran on the undercurve of her left breast and she leaned forward a little as I did it.
She was panting as if she’d just climbed a flight of stairs. I hooked my index fingers though the rings and drew her forwards so she slid half off the chair and her knees touched the floor. Bent over in this position her breasts swayed under their own weight and I kneaded them forcefully. We’re taught that breasts are to be caressed or fondled but I was losing any sense of restraint and I grasped them roughly and dug my fingers in, twisting the flesh and pulling and pushing it. It was having an effect on her. I told her to put her hands behind her back and she obeyed immediately. She closed her eyes as I got rougher and rougher. Her panting increased. I stood and pushed my chair back with my calves. Bent over as she was, it was a simple task to free my cock and when she felt the tip on her lips she opened wide and covered her teeth, reaching with her tongue. I was beyond that point already so I just shoved it all the way in, in one motion. She was obviously accustomed to deepthroating and I reminded myself to take some flowers to the grave of her husband. She didn’t even open her eyes as I crudely fucked her throat. After all the stimulation I’d had it took only a few strokes before I came. I held her head steady until the moment passed and then pulled out to smear the last drops around her lips. She followed with her tongue as if to invite me back in.
A line of my sperm clung to her bottom lip and that’s the way Julie found her, virtually naked and used with swollen lips, when she entered the room to report she’d finished the cleaning. Marie finally seemed a little perturbed to be displayed in such a way in front of her own daughter but her training held and she made no move to cover herself. Marie simply stood looking at the floor waiting for me to speak, I suppose. I took the velcroed cups from her dress and casually tossed them in the wastebasket as I led Julie into the kitchen to show her where the coffee things were.
She was such a sweet, pretty thing that I felt I had to kiss her. I backed her up against the island counter and put one hand behind her head as I crushed my lips to hers. She yielded so quickly I was pleased and her tongue met mine not to duel, but to caress. My other hand slid up her thigh to her crotch; a short journey with that dress. I wouldn’t say she was wet but it was humid in there. She squirmed a little but she let her thighs fall open further as I went to work. The kitchen knife set was next to her on the bench so instead of pulling her panties down or aside I took the dramatic route and sliced through their sides with the knife. I made sure she felt the cold back of the blade on her skin. She shuddered and closed her eyes as I drew the garment from her.
Over the years I’d developed talented fingers and my goal was to see how fast she’d respond to my caresses. She did well and it was less than five minutes before her body stiffened and she moaned her orgasm into my mouth. She was so beautiful and submissive. She took my hand and kissed the fingers. I pulled her head to my shoulder and she whispered something I couldn’t hear. She made my coffee while I called a taxi. I sipped it seated in my armchair. Julie remained standing, as a maid should in the presence of her employer. Marie had still made no attempt to cover herself. That pleased me and I let my eyes roam over her half-clad form until the taxi arrived. Only then did she cover up.
I followed them to the door. Julie with her barely concealed buttocks and her mother with those abundant breasts swaying beneath the thin material of her dress. I told them what time to return in the morning and wished them a good night.
I had some thinking to do. In some ways I’d struck gold but nothing is ever simple and I doubted I’d be able to handle the demands of three passionate women. Of course there were tactics I could use, punishments and so on, but at the end of the day three women take a lot of supervising. This would only be compounded by the dynamics of their family relationship which was bound to cause problems sooner rather than later. Samantha was somewhat insulated by being at work. She’d naturally be spending some time with her mother and sister but I could keep that to a reasonable level. Julie seemed willing to go along with anything but Marie obviously needed some close attention.
In the end I decided to double my bets. Every time I’d pushed any of the women it had paid off. Even if I discovered some sticky family dynamic, (and let’s face it, what woman has a trouble-free relationship with her mother?), I would use it to my advantage. The first order of business was to blatantly stamp my authority on Marie. Her girls would naturally look to her for cues so if I made her my slave the flow-on would be gratifying.
It was going to work in my favour that whatever sway Marie had over her girls, she had been just as much under the thumb of her husband. It was obvious that she still craved that kind of treatment. I wanted to go further, though. Something about her brought out the cruelty in me. Perhaps it was the knowledge that she had already been the willing plaything of a man. I felt I didn’t need to be cautious or careful with her at all.
Playing the lord of the manor the next day I welcomed them into my home. Julie’s room was small and plain. Near her bed was an intercom which was connected to other rooms in the house. Using this device I could instantly summon her at any time of day. I left her to unpack and took Marie to her room. It was a little larger with a double bed. The riding crop hung from the foot of the bed made an impression. I’d laid a suitcase on the bed and I put hers next to it. Without a word I opened them both and began transferring clothes. All her bras, pantihose and panties went into the second case, followed by a couple of slips and a pair each of jeans and shorts. That left her with dresses, blouses, skirts and stockings only. She was wearing a light summer dress.
I led her to the foot of the bed and pushed her down to bend over it with her face in the covers. Flipping the hem up I discovered a black thong. It was sexy enough but I had a plan to follow so I ripped it off. Grabbing her hair I forcefully turned her head to one side and rubbed the thong over her face.
“What were you thinking?”
“I’m sorry”, she blubbered.
“When you are staying in my house you obey my rules, understand?”
She sniffled out her agreement and I shoved the panties in her mouth. Picking up the crop I flogged her for five minutes until her buttocks and thighs were covered in welts and she sobbed continuously. I’m sure Julie could hear the noises from her room.
“Get up you idiot. Take that dress off”.
She jumped to obey. Her cross-handed grab at the hem and the quick lift had the garment off in seconds. She’d worn a bra. In truth it was the sort of garment that was designed to inflame rather than conceal. The thin material did little to shape her breasts and it had a front-opening clasp. I had no doubt she had worn it to please me but being pleased wasn’t part of my plan.
“What the hell is this?”
I feigned anger as I grabbed the bra and tore it from her body. The force of my action sent her stumbling across the room, breasts bouncing and swinging. She regained her balance and darted back across the room to stand in front of me, still sniffling and apologising. She appeared afraid I’d throw her out of my house and she promised to do better. I explained that she was to wear no bras or panties, slips or pantyhose of any kind while she was in my charge. Stay-up stockings were the only allowable undergarments.
There comes a time in any relationship when the power rules are worked out. You might think that with Marie the rules had been pretty clear since last night. But there are different types of dominance and submission. One type, which I suspected might evolve between Julie and myself, was a more cooperative and consensual type. Another was a command and control relationship where a woman simply does and believes what she’s told. It has few niceties about it but it’s simple enough. If Marie and I were to enter into such a relationship it would only increase the obedience of her daughters to me since their authority role model, their mother, was manifestly deferential to an extreme degree.
I told Marie that since it was her bra that had offended me it was her breasts that should receive the punishment. As I spoke I threaded the riding crop through her nipple rings. It was all nonsense really but the point was that she should accept without protest my right to discipline her in any way, and for any reason, that I saw fit. She was eager to agree with my assessment.
It happened that my living room had exposed beams along the ceiling. This was an excellent place to restrain somebody. I’d known that I would find some excuse to punish Marie severely so I’d prepared. I led her out of the bedroom and tied her hands to a rope dangling from the beam. I shortened it so she had to stand on her toes. There was an 8-inch piece of bungee cord with hooks at both ends I slipped through her nipple rings, after I’d removed the crop. It was short enough to pull a little but it became downright uncomfortable when I stretched the middle up so she could clasp it between her teeth. This had the effect of making her a participant in her own torture, gagging her and exposing the sensitive undersides of her breasts to the whip.
I walked behind her and let my hands lift and weigh those huge tits, I even pressed them down a little to feel the resistance of the cord. She grunted from the pain but held on. I slipped two fingers into her and found her wet. Whispering in her ear I promised if she let loose the cord she’d hang there all day. She gave a quick nod of understanding and I felt a contraction, a sign that her orgasm was imminent. But my plan was not to give pleasure.
Julie was still in her room when she heard my voice on the intercom. If she was startled to see her mother in this rather bizarre position she covered it well. Wearing the same wraparound dress as the night before I couldn’t resist her. I bent her over the back of the couch in front of her mother and raised her dress. I rammed into her without preamble but she was quite well lubricated already and responded to my thrusts. Her dress was easy to pull open and I pinched those hard pointy nipples. After a while I pulled out and lined up her pink asshole and rammed into her again. She was tight and it obviously hurt to some degree but I could tell that this wasn’t the first time she’d been taken like this. My body moulded to hers as worked in and out. As my head went forward I heard her whispering over and over again, “Thank you”. I came in her and pulled out but since I hadn’t told her to move she remained in position.
Invigorated I strode over to Marie, took the crop and began to flog her breasts and belly. Given she’d already been punished it was to her credit that she kept the cord between her teeth. It must have interfered with her breathing as she gasped and cried but I didn’t care. I continued until the welts on her front, reaching down to her thighs, matched those on her buttocks. When I released her hands she sank to the floor and curled up on herself. At first I thought I’d gone to far and cruelled the deal but she had one hand moving between her legs. The way she was lying revealed the hair between her legs, which obscured her genitals somewhat. She came there on the floor as I watched and uncurled herself. Lying on her back with those fake tits sticking up she looked at me with a mix of expectation, fear and release.
What the hell was I going to do now? Julie was still lying over the couch and Marie was incapacitated on the floor. In the end I told Julie to help her mother to bed and to go to bed herself after she’d cleaned up. I slept well until I was woken at 7:30 with a cup of coffee. Julie was already dressed in a little skirt, heels, and a thin white blouse. I had her get on and ride me as I played with her breasts. It was early so I let her do all the work, altering her tempo with a word as it suited me. I was pretty relaxed so I let her go until she’d had a couple of orgasms and after she licked me clean I set her to her more mundane tasks and went to visit Marie.
She was still asleep. That was understandable but I had some things on my mind so I shook her shoulder until she woke.
“Good morning, sir”
“I’m sorry, good morning sir”, she managed, without a hint of irony.
“First of all, if I come into your room I expect you make yourself presentable. That means no bedclothes, legs spread”
She did that and I reached to stroke her bruised breasts. She flinched a little as they were sensitive but she didn’t seem to mind too much. Not that I cared.
“You should know, Marie, that you’re the kind of woman who brings out the cruelty in a man. What happened yesterday, or something like it, is likely to happen often if you stay here. You will be expected to do what I tell you to do when I tell you to do it. You’ll wear what I tell you to wear and fuck who I tell you to fuck. We won’t fall in love. At the moment I’m not sure if I even like you. You need to decide what you want to do.”
I guess she’d thought about it already. What she’d been missing was stronger than any other factor. She quietly assured me that she would like to stay. She went on to say that she realised it would be a burden to me and if she could repay me in any way I had only to let her know. She made reference to her late husband. Without going into details she gave me to understand that she was quite used to catering to every need of a demanding man and I would find her an enthusiastic victim. I was to think of her as my ‘Yes girl’. There were some things even the most ardent woman would normally refuse to do, but for her there was nothing I could express even a small desire for that she would not devote herself to immediately.
I smiled inwardly. I plucked at a tuft of her pubic hair and told her to find a salon and get a wax. Soon we’d start her exercise program. I instructed her to refrain from eating anything at all in the meantime. She was to drink only water. I picked out a dress for her to wear. In truth it was too small and with no bra it looked slightly ridiculous, but that was a test too. After her treatment she was to meet me in my office at one o’clock.
Finding the concentration to work took some effort. Things were proceeding at a pretty good clip by the time lunch had rolled around at 1:30. When Marie arrived, I had Samantha laid out on the desk with her ankles near her ears enjoying a leisurely fuck. I motioned Marie to sit in a chair next to us close enough so I could reach out and slide her dress up to admire her new look. She was completely bald down there. I fingered her as I fucked her daughter. She was wet enough. She didn’t complain. She couldn’t really, after her promises of the morning. I turned Samantha’s head to make her look into her mother’s eyes and gave her a couple of those little figure eight moves that usually tipped her over the edge. Her eyes glazed over as she came again. Plucking a tissue form a box next to her hip I gave it to her and she took it from me to stop her crotch dripping as she returned to the outer office to her other work.
Marie was wet enough by now. I had her lick my fingers clean and then took off her dress and made her kneel and take my slimy cock in her mouth to clean that too. Must have been an interesting combination of flavours. I detected no expression of distaste though you’d have to believe that somewhere inside her there were the remains of feelings of disquiet about sucking her own daughter’s juices off a man’s cock. The licking and sucking started to get me going again. Julie was the one who needed it most at the moment so I pulled free and zipped myself up. As she stood the dress slid down to cover her thighs again. She made as if to sit
“In my presence you stand unless I tell you to do something else. Do you understand?”
“Yes sir”, she said as she rose again.
“And if you are asked to sit you lift the back of your skirt first”
“Yes sir”, she had her eyes down and answered me soberly. It was like being a sergeant major.
“I have a friend coming here in a minute. You will treat him with absolute respect and obedience. You will offer him everything you offer me. You will go to his house and I’ll see you tomorrow. I expect to see evidence that he has used you brutally. You will encourage him to do so”.
“Yes sir, I understand”
Maybe a little resistance is better. Gives a man more sense of accomplishment when it’s overcome. On the other hand, the kind of complete subservience and unquestioning submission Marie displayed incited ever greater abuse. The challenge there is to keep upping the ante with some sense of elegance. The suburbs are full of people who beat their wives but it’s not exactly erotic.
Graeme arrived and I introduced him to Marie. Of course he was surprised, especially as I was rather crude in explaining what she was. I didn’t want to waste time. The truth was I didn’t actually know that much about her except she had a fine set of tits, which I made her display to him then and there. And there wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do, so that’s what I told him. I also said I had work to do so he should take her away with him and send her back when he’d had enough. Generous guy that I am I lent him the office whip and had him take a couple of complaint forms I’d snagged from some fast food joint encouraging him to think of something to fault her on.