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I dropped down, Indian fashion, beside the shaking woman and began to tenderly pat her back, which was about the only portion of her that I had not welted. With small pressures I coaxed her head into my lap. There are so many ways in which a person may cry. There are tears of anger or frustration and tears of grief or sorrow. Sometimes people even weep with joy. As I stroked her and made soothing sounds, this woman's sobs of pain and humiliation underwent a transformation. She began to cry for simple comfort. It was, I felt, a turning point in our relationship. Out of desperation she was now seeking comfort from me, the source of all her anguish.
Always prepared to extemporize, I decided that some bonding was in order to reinforce this new development. Still gentling her along, I got her on her feet. The crying had diminished to those little hicuppy sounds women make. I blindfolded her and patiently positioned her, standing with her legs spread and her hands clasped behind her head.
"Stay." I whispered.
I rang up to the hacienda and ordered the houseboy to get himself and the gardener down to the party at the compound. I told them both to take the following day off also, as I did not wish to be disturbed.
I blindfolded Baby Pussy as well and then, holding her head up by the hair so she wouldn't crack her skull, I lowered her to the floor. I removed the spreader bar and ball gag and stood her up behind Cowcunt and placed her hands on her mother's shoulders. I opened the door into the hanger area and then rolled open one of the outer doors. As I moved about I watched their heads shifting their little ears about as they tested each sound for danger. Then there was silence while I waited for the servants to get well clear of the grounds. I let them stand there and puzzle awhile. They gave up on their ears and began to search the air with their nostrils. They wanted desperately to whisper to one another. I saw each of them part their lips briefly as the temptation toyed with them but surprisingly they each backed away from the risk.
"Walk forward."
They jerked at my voice and then began to cautiously move ahead. Naturally, Cowcunt let go of the nape of her neck to reach out in front of her. I gave her belly a light snap with the whip.
"Hands behind your head. I'll be your eyes."
I directed them left and right, hither and thither and tickled the cleft of their bums until their steps finally found some unison of movement. Cowcunt finally accepted the fact that I had no intention of walking her nose first into a wall and soon our little procession was making splendid progress. This was a good first step toward the transition from fear to trust.
Once inside the hacienda they even managed the stairs without coming to grief. I stopped them inside the Master bedroom and stood them in opposite corners in the present position and hurried to run a bath. Cowcunt had in all truth become quite ripe in the course of her travails and my haste was out of consideration for my olfactory senses.
I had intended to give her a cold water treatment. An inside and out visit from a common garden hose can be quite humbling. However, as she had prematurely shown the first symptoms of the Stockholm syndrome, I had decided that some TLC would be more efficacious. The hose would be saved for a later date and this little taste of luxury would give the bitch a frame of reference should she indulge in another show of obstinacy. I ran the large raised tub full to exactly 104 degrees and even added an application of Moroccan Rose Otto oil as a final touch of extravagance.
I flipped on the stereo system and the soft lyrics from Natalie Cole's 'Snowfall on the Sahara' filled the air.
" When the snow falls on the Sahara and the sun freezes over
When the Mojave red turns into blue
When the music's no longer playing and the faithless start praying
I'll stop loving you."
I led her, still blindfolded, into the spacious bathroom and solicitously helped her into the tub. As soon as she felt the water's warm caress as opposed to some further villainy on my part, she dissolved in relief. I sat on the Carerra steps that surrounded the tub and removed her blindfold. I opened a bottle of Alchemy and began to caringly work some into her hair. I combined a sensuous scalp massage with the shampooing and soon she had her eyes closed. She had surrendered her poor abused body to the healing heat. I rinsed her hair and then brought the tub back up to temperature.
"Relax and soak." I whispered in her ear.
I left her and returned to the bedroom. While I had been washing her hair it had occurred to me that something would have to be done about Baby Pussy's excessively long golden tresses. The girl's hair would simply be too much trouble to maintain under the regimen I had planned for her. I decided to cut it all off and to make a spectacle of the event that would further illustrate that their bodies existed only to satisfy the whims and caprices of their betters.
I uncovered the girl's eyes and put a finger to her lips to order her silence. I led her by a nipple quietly into the bathroom and stood her facing the mirrored wall behind the carved sinks. I wet my shaving brush and stirred some lather from my Aramis mug. I lathered up her eyebrows, both of which lifted comically in panic when she saw me pick up my razor. I made short work of those two little vanities. A glance in the mirror showed Cowcunt was still unaware of us. Baby Pussy was blinking at her browless reflection, while her mother, with eyes closed, drifted in the warm water and soft music.
Baby pussy's eyes followed my every movement as I picked up a pair of scissors and gathered her blond mane into a full ponytail. It took a bit of clipping to separate it from her head but I persevered. At last I held it aloft as a warrior would a fresh scalp. I saw her lower lip start trembling. Sure enough she began to blubber. The little crybaby's snuffling brought Mom out of her trance and now two sets of eyes were worriedly following me. I let the mop of hair fall to the floor and continued snipping until her head resembled a shorn patch of hayfield. It was a drawn out process, but with a beard trimmer, some more lather and my razor I finally had her dome as smooth as an egg. Between the pair of them the supply of tears seemed inexhaustible. They were still weeping in concert when I took her by her shaking shoulders and put her in the tub with her mother. I tossed a cake of herbal soap and a pair of bath sponges in with them.
" Now, now. I want you to stop all the caterwauling. Look on the bright side, I am allowing you to spend some quality time together. Of course, there will be no talking but you may communicate by touch. Bathe one another… and do a thorough job as there will be an inspection." I laughed.
Leaving them there, I went back into the bedroom. I exchanged my hair-flecked shirt for a fresh guayabera made of cream colored Irish linen. At the wet bar I poured myself a generous snifter of Remy Martin. I kept one ear cocked through the music but could detect no whispers from the open door to the bathroom. I decided that I was indeed making progress. At this rate I might be able to advance my delivery date.
When rejoined my charges, I sat on the commode and watched them while I sipped my cognac. They tried hard to block out my presence. Their eyes were locked together in silent empathy as they ran the soapy sponges over each over. Even to my cynical eye it was a touching scene. I was tempted to linger over it but time was my master as surely as I was theirs. I gathered up the shaving gear and sat it alongside the tub and then resumed my seat.
" Okay, okay. Clean enough. Baby Pussy, climb up and sit on the edge of the tub facing me."
She complied and sat up there, dripping and hugging herself modestly with her little bald face averted. All that freshly scrubbed youth and innocence was fetching to behold.
"Very good. Now brace your arms behind you and lean back."
"That's it."
"I want you to be a good girl and spread your legs as wide as you can."
"No, no, much wider.
"Excellent!"
"Now stay just like that."
What a charming display she made with her long coltish legs splayed and her virgin cunt presented. When the time came it would pain me to part with such a lovely creature. I was sure that artists must feel the same regret when they are forced to ship their favorite creations off to the gallery. Mom had grown apprehensive of my intentions during all this. It was time for her to play her part in the festivities.
" Cowcunt, Take the razor and give Baby Pussy a baby's pussy. When you are finished I don't want to find even the trace of a hair between her legs."
There was a brief hesitation. Not a refusal, more like a sort of confusion and when she began I could see by her initial clumsiness that she had never used a razor on another person. She soon became more confident though. From my seat I directed the action, positioning the girl this way and that until at last she was bent over holding her heart shaped ass open while her mother tenderly shaved the almost invisible wisps around her anus.
I got up and inspected the result more closely, exploring the smoothness between the girl's legs with my hand. I was satisfied and allowed her to let go of her cheeks. It occurred to me that while we were at it they might as well shave their legs. I handed the girl a second razor and soon they were bending and scraping together. As I sat back again with my cognac I mused over what hairy things women really were beneath all their carefully contrived feminine smoothness. Perhaps that was why I was so enamoured of Amparo's natural look and attitude. Not only did she glory in her body hair but I had never noticed her using any makeup. With her perfect complexion and fine features it would have been superfluous in any case. I noticed that by silent agreement the two of them had begun a little delaying tactic. They were pretending to shave portions of their legs, which had already been done.
"Put down the razors and quit insulting my intelligence. Both of you …crawl over here."
I put aside the snifter and stood. I slipped my feet from my sandals, dropped my trousers and stepped out of them. I wore no shorts so my stiff cock stood free. They reached me on hands and knees with their heads bowed. I sat back down on the toilet and spread my legs out straight till each of them were looking down at a foot.
"Down on your forearms with your asses up"
"Now open your mouths nice and wide and hang your little tongues out."
I slid my feet forward until each of my big toes had invaded a mouth.
"Suck."
As their moist warmth closed on my toes I slowly pulled on my cock. They were tentative at first but after a bit their saliva glands kicked in and they unconsciously began to suck in unison. It was most pleasant, looking down on the curves of their prostrate backs, while I stroked myself to the rhythmic pulling of two wet mouths. The urge to come was not long in arriving. I pulled out of Baby Pussy's mouth and used my foot to raise her face. When I beckoned her forward, I felt Mom's mouth slacken.
"Did anyone tell you to stop, Cowcunt?"
The sucking on my right toe immediately resumed. I leaned forward and took the girl by her ears. I guided her mouth up to my cock.
"Come on, Baby Pussy, you know what to do. Just pretend it's a longer toe." I coaxed.
Her soft lips parted and I pulled her face down over my meat. I began to caress her smooth skull while at the same time stroking the little soft spot behind her ears. Before long she started sucking again. I urged her to a faster pace. The sight of that little baldhead bobbing up and down coupled with the sound of her slurping had me biting my lip. Her hot drool leaked down over my balls and they began to swell. When I could stand no more, I let the pleasure wave crest over me. It was a long, exquisite ejaculation and I sent spurt after spurt into her. With my eyes closed I held her still while my cock slowly shrank between her lips. With my right hand I gently massaged her throat until I felt her begin to swallow. Through it all the wet suction at my toe had never faltered. No sultan had ever enjoyed a more splendid moment
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