I

Susan was born on December 30^th. She often felt a little bit cheated when her birthday rolled around. A party squished between Christmas and New Years Eve was always a tough sell. Quite a few of her friends saw no problem with handing her a Christmas gift only to say "Oh by the way Happy Birthday too."

Roger knew better. They had celebrated their fifth anniversary last year. She still adored and worshipped him. That would be worship in a quite literal meaning of the word. Kneeling naked with her head pressed to the ground knees spread and ass swaying in the air awaiting his pleasure. Whenever he saw her kneeling before him her ass and cunt openly displayed, as she professed her need, well it made Rogers pride swell in more ways than one. She was his and he used her any way he wanted to, sometimes he just fucked her, and she sighed contentedly, no matter which opening he decided to invade. Other times he would slap her ass cheeks, heating them to a healthy glow or use his broad leather belt. He rarely used a whip or cane unless she needed punishment, or on those occasions when they went to the monthly munch. She was content to be used like this, it made her feel treasured, and he was into it to. What red-blooded American male wouldn’t be? They never really tried to put a name to their relationship, it was just how they were and they were both comfortable with that.

It had been a good year at work for Roger and he’d received a substantial bonus so for her birthday he gave Susan a silver collar. "It’s a Gorean slave collar" he explained to her. It had been constructed to conform to the descriptions from that book series. It was almost a half-inch wide, made of fine silver with a decorative floral design inlaid with bright enamel across the surface. The floral design cleverly spelt out his surname (ending with a possessive‘s). The collar was hinged with a locking mechanism built into it, only a tiny keyhole broke the smooth surface when it was closed and locked. It was quite beautiful and it hadn’t come cheap.

Roger held onto both of the keys of course. Susan knelt before her lover begging to try it on. He seemed unmoved by her desire and yet he grinned at her efforts to sway him.

"Do the clothes make the man?" He asked her rhetorically.

She looked at him, puzzled by the words, uncertain where the conversation was headed.

"Is it the costume that makes a clown?" This didn’t make things any clearer for her.

"Can a piece of jewelry make a change in your life?" he asked.

At last Susan understood where he was going with this. She thought for a moment, then she held out her left hand, showing him the gold wedding band she wore.

He seemed a bit surprised by her rather clever response. He chuckled but shook his head no.

"The ring didn’t change you dear. It’s a symbol of what you are. Do you understand the difference love?"

She looked up at him, her soulful brown eyes wide and glistening as she nodded in the affirmative.

"I don’t mean for this to be a toy for our little games dear, You will think long and hard before you put on this collar."

His voice had dropped into that authoritative tone, deep and commanding though she couldn’t tell you exactly how this tone was different. It felt more than sounded different. Almost like a distinct type of resonance, one that seemed to make her whole body tingle, right down to her bones. Roger was warming to the topic and Susan knelt up a little straighter her neck almost seemed to stretch toward him as she arched her head back.

"This is a symbol of what you are. This is a slave’s collar. Only I can remove it and once it encircles your lovely neck I’ll not want to take it off too quickly or too often."

A shiver of delight ran through Susan and she involuntarily shuffled forward on her knees inching a bit closer. Roger shook his head impatiently.

"You don’t understand, I want this to mean something more than a piece of jewelry or another bit of bondage equipment. If you agree to wear this you will be mine, my property, to do with as I see fit, nothing more and certainly nothing less".

Her eyes seemed to glaze over as the words "You will be mine." reverberated in her mind she heard nothing else. Oh god! She was soaking! This was the best birthday present ever! If this silly man didn’t realize she belonged to him already it was past time he learned.

"Please Sire" she said, a lone tear escaping down her cheek, "Lock it onto me. Never take it off. Let it bind me too you. I belong to you. You must know that!"

"Patients my pet." he said with an evil grin, " A collar might be given freely, but you will have to earn the right to wear it. Think about what I said. We’ll discuss it again tomorrow."

She did think about it, almost constantly and with eager anticipation.

Her dreams that night were filled with steel, leather, and her own bound flesh. He would test her of course and she relished the thought. In her dreams the various scenes played out and flowed into one another as only dreams can do. She was over his knee while he spanked her long and hard until the heat became so intense she felt she might burst into flames, Then he would lick and kiss her throbbing bottom while she came over and over again. He would enter her from behind while he locked the collar in place around her neck.

Or…

Perhaps something harder, more intense, bound face down on the bed while he used a leather belt, maybe even his flogger on her, striking her shoulders and bottom and thighs again and again until she cried out for mercy. Then he would use the ice as he had that other time he’d used the flogger. Ice melting in cold rivulets against the heated flesh while fingers stroked and teased and another, warmer, moisture seeped from her. She would squirm helplessly under his cool touch. She would shudder and beg for release. He would relent and use her as he wanted to. The way she was truly meant to be used. Yes to be nothing but his plaything, to bring him joy. That was what the collar would mean. She would be his favorite toy, the jewel in his collection, to be used and cherished, loved and possessed completely. She could feel his arms around her and she snuggled closer and sighed.

When she awoke he was still sleeping, taking in deep steady breaths and letting them out in a slow even rhythm. She slipped beneath the covers. Her lips traced a path down his body and teasingly licked at his parted thighs. With a swelling alertness his rampant interest became obvious, and yet he still slept.

This was not something she normally did for him, Going down on him was something she only did when he demanded it. She really found swallowing him difficult and uncomfortable not the least bit erotic for her. Her aversion probably stemmed from an incident early in their relationship. She had been kneeling before him licking and sucking as she struggled to please her lover. At some point he decided to take control of the situation. Grabbing her chin in his left hand and grasping her ponytail in his right he held her head in place and thrust in and out to his own tempo. She had struggled to accommodate him trying not to gag as he pumped into her throat with unrestrained enthusiasm. He came without the slightest warning and she couldn’t help but gag, heaving and spewing cum everywhere.

She’d never felt so humiliated in her life. To be on her knees before her master retching and crying while semen sprayed from her mouth running down her chin. Snot mixed with cum and dripped from her raw nose. It was beyond an embarrassment, she felt shamed and hopelessly inadequate, she had wished she could just curl up and fade away. Even then what she had really worried about was how disappointed he might be at her failure.

And then he had burst out laughing. For her that was the worst possible reaction he could have had. Though perhaps upon reflection the best she could have hope for.

He tried to talk to her about it later but she couldn’t. She tucked her humiliation away in a private spot and went on. She had forgiven him of course, it was forgetting that was impossible. Now she only went down on him when he asked it of her, but it always brought back that unpleasant memory of a gagging throat and the raw pain of her nasal passage with salty cum erupting from her nostrils as she retched.

Those dark moments were long past and for him and probably long forgotten. She wasn’t even sure he realized she had an aversion to oral sex, he never mentioned her lack of enthusiasm and she always tried to accommodate him when he demanded it.

But today all she wanted to do was surprise him, well that was her heart’s desire at the moment and so her tongue worked its way along the throbbing underside of his turgid penis as she allowed him to slip between her lips. Soon she was pulling him into her mouth taking him deep into her throat as her head bobbed over him and she struggled to swallow him down. She fought hard to overcome the brief panic as his cock nudged against the back of her throat and she gagged reflexively. She just kept swallowing, taking him deeper.

His deep rumbling groan warned her and she swallowed endlessly as he woke cumming deep in her throat at the same moment. She beamed with pride and grinned as best she could with her lips wrapped around him. She had done it, all on her own she’d gone down on him and made him cum. She wondered if he even realized what a personal triumph that this moment was for her. It didn’t matter she decided as long as he knew she was doing all this to please him.

He pulled the covers away and smiled lovingly at the sight of her. She grinned back crouched between his legs a sticky smile on her face as her tongue flickered out to lick away the salty moisture. When she was finished cleaning him she climbed back up into his warm arms and sighed contentedly.

"God you’re wonderful" he said cheerfully. "But bribery will get you nowhere, you’re still gonna have to work for your collar, you cute little bitch."

She smiled. He had been thinking about it too. She wondered what tasks he might come up with to challenge her. She shivered at the thought, he had a truly evil imagination, but she wasn’t sure if her shiver was from fear or joyful anticipation.

II

That evening was to be their New Years Eve party. Nothing too elaborate just a gathering of good friends, five couples in all. Usually they served a sit down dinner but Roger thought a buffet would be more appropriate this year.

They went grocery shopping and Susan remained at his side barely resisting the urge to cling to him as she followed from the grocery store to the Deli then on to the bakery and finally the liquor store. She spent the rest of the morning tidying up the house preparing platters of fruit, veggies, cold cuts, and desserts. By four in the afternoon the preparations were complete. The house was clean, the food and snacks were ready, a buffet table was set up with plates, glasses, and silverware and the beverages were chilling. He selected a dozen CDs, light seasonal jazz played soft and low, a gentle background noise to fill any awkward silence but never enough to disturb a conversation. Everything was ready; they could relax.

"Have you thought about what I said Sue?"

Susan didn’t hesitate for a moment, he was talking about the collar, her collar, and she wanted a chance to wear it. She’d even be proud to wear it tonight. Kim and Sam were next door neighbors. She and Kim were best friends. They were both into the scene, as were the Joe and Barbara Nickerson. Erica and Mathew were another story; Erica was her boss at work, that’s how they knew each other. She was a tall, strong, self-assured woman. They had only met a few times socially. Eric’s husband had been a bit of a surprise. He was a software design engineer of some sort, thin and small a total opposite of his wife. He was obviously smitten by her following her about like a lovesick puppy ready and willing to please. For her part Erica seemed to enjoy ordering him about and relished his deference to her every whim. While she didn’t overtly humiliate him in public their interaction left no doubt as to who was in charge of that relationship. It certainly wouldn’t surprise Roger or Sue if she kept him on a literal leash at home, to go along with the figurative one she showed in public. He certainly seemed eager to please her and who knew, he might enjoy serving her in that manner. In any event nothing would shock Erica.

That left only the Steve and Linda Anderson, they were friends and neighbors but seemed very straight-laced, still the collar was pretty enough to pass for an unusual necklace. Maybe Linda wouldn’t notice. She certainly wouldn’t comment on it, especially if she had any idea of its purpose.

"I’m ready for it whenever you wish to put it on me, Sir." Susan responded in her most submissive tone. Her eyes were lowered so he couldn’t actually see the excitement they held, but it was unmistakable in her voice. She remembered his words about earning it, but she would do whatever he wanted her to. He knew her well enough to understand that.

"Pour yourself a warm bath love, relax and soak for a while, we’ve got some time before the guests arrive."

It was not the task she had imagined he’d require of her but she eagerly filled the tub with steaming hot water and added some herbal bath oils. Susan sank back into the warm water closing her eyes, letting her muscles relax and her nervous tension float away. She’d nearly dozed off when he entered the bathroom and knelt by the side of the tub.

"Wake up pet, time for a scrub." he said cheerfully as he rolled up his sleeves, grabbed the luffa sponge and dipped it into the warm scented water. Sue rose to her knees and he began to scrub her back vigorously. She squirmed a bit as he worked his way lower. Once her back and buttocks were well-scrubbed and glowing pink he turned his attention to her breasts and belly. He was only a little bit gentler with them and Sue was squirming in discomfort now. The doorbell rang and she jerked in startled alarm. Roger rose and dried off his dripping forearms.

"That’s probably Kim and Sam they said they might stop by before the party. You stay right there I’ll go see to them." Roger bounded down the stairs and Susan listened to the greetings being exchanged. She sank down deeper into the warm water letting it sooth her jangled nerves. As the laughter rose from downstairs she began to wonder what he was planning. Finally she heard him coming up the stairs, she flipped the drain open and stood. Her eyes widened when it was Kim who pushed her way into the bathroom. She grinned at the sight of a stark naked Susan dripping in the tub and pulled a towel off the rack.

"Come on Sue, we need to get you ready."

 

III

Susan was a little taken aback, but after all Kim and Sam were into the scene and they had both seen her bound and naked just a few weeks ago when she and Roger had done a flogging exhibition at the local Munch. Still it was somehow much more embarrassing to be seen naked here at home in her own bathroom. Maybe earning the collar was going to be a little harder than she thought.

Susan stepped out of the tub and allowed Kim to towel her dry then sat on the toilet seat while Kim used a blow dryer on her hair. When Roger and Sam crowded into the bathroom they were carrying some lengths of braided hemp rope. Susan opened her mouth to protest but Roger spoke first.

"I’m sure you won’t mind luv, I invited Kim and Sam to your collaring ceremony."

Roger spoke with practiced ease knowing exactly how to quell her objection. The words "Collaring Ceremony" sent a shiver through her and Sue lost all thought of her intended complaint.

"And look they brought these lovely ropes as a present for the ceremony. I know hemp isn’t your favorite, what with it being a little bit scratchy and all, but it is such a nice gesture. I think you should thank them."

She knew the last bit was not a suggestion but an order and she dutifully thanked them both for their thoughtfulness though she was blushing furiously.

"It’s kind of stuffy in here let’s move her into the bedroom to prep her." Sam suggested.

The fact that another man was directing her, while Roger stood be and said nothing, made Susan feel a little queasy. He didn't bother to use her name and spoke about her instead of to her, as if she'd become a simple object to be moved about. That was a little scary but she was sure Roger would keep it all under control. She dutifully followed behind the three of them, a lone naked woman being lead away by her clothed friends. Once in the bedroom she was made to kneel by the bed. Roger ordered her into a presentation position kneeling tall with hands clasped behind her neck and knees spread about a foot apart.

Roger kissed her his tongue probing deeply and her mouth opened, yielding to him. His hungry kiss seemed to draw her breath away. He asked if she was ready for this. She nodded and never even considered asking what "this" might entail. Sam began to bind her breasts, the scratchy hemp winding around her torso twice below her breasts then again twice above them. He then cinched the four loops together in the valley between her bosoms tightening the knot until her aching breasts were squeezed snuggly and separated by the thick knot of rope. He playfully tweaked her nipples while her husband sat watching without comment or concern.

While Sam worked on her breasts Kim was working just above hip level. She wrapped a second rope around Susan’s waist four times then knotted it behind her back. She drew the rough hemp cord between Susan’s legs tugging it forward so it sank into the crevice of Sue’s butt. Kim carefully placed a knot where it would press against her puckered little rosebud. She smiled evilly as she pressed the rope into her friends swollen nether lips and secured it with a finger pressing just below Susan’s stirring clit. Kim placed another scratchy knot right there and then drew the rope up to connect it to the loop of rope circling Susan’s waist.

When Kim finished and gave the rope a tug Susan couldn’t help but whimper At least she’d be out of this soon she thought. The party would be starting in another half-hour and there was no way she could wear this get-up under her dress.

They lead her downstairs to the living room and made her kneel by the coffee table. Her Collar was sitting on the mantel in a polished wooden box lined with dark blue felt. Despite herself she was getting excited and she squirmed impatiently as she knelt.

"Be still!" Roger ordered.

"Sir, shouldn’t my hands be tied?" Susan asked as she dutifully held them crossed behind her.

"No!" Rogers' voice seemed to boom in the open room. Kim and Sam had found seats and were they could comfortably watch show.

"That is your task tonight, my love. You will cross your hands behind your back and they will remain there, bound by my word and your own discipline."

Such an easy way to earn her collar Sue thought, she had expected something much harder. Still it was her birthday present so maybe he was just being nice.

"You will remain here and entertain our guests for the rest of the evening. You have my permission to use your mouth only." He continued

At first she was too incredulous to panic. He was teasing her; he had to be kidding. A sneaked peek at his stern face showed no hint of humor. He meant every word. Sue’s stomach convulsed and her face flushed bright red.

"If you treat them well I’m sure they will give you some food and maybe something to drink." Her mind was grappling with the words he spoke. They had never done anything like this before. She had always been his and his alone. That was how it was supposed to be when you are man and wife. Was a slave to be treated so very different?

"All that I require is that you do your best to please them. Your hands are to remain in place crossed behind your back and you will remain here on your knees."

Her heart was pounding, even at the Munches no one was ever forced to do anything like this! It was about discipline, a bit of pain, but there was never any real sex involved, at least not in public. From the corner of her eye she could see Sam standing, stretching, the bulge in his crotch already very noticeable.

"Yellow Light Master!" she cried out.

He bent down beside her. He seemed to be taken totally off guard. Susan had never once used her safe words before. Why would she start now, And in front of guests?

"What’s wrong?" he asked with a mixture of concern and irritation.

"I, I, um." She just didn’t know how to say it to him, she didn’t want to anger him or worse yet embarrass him.

"Come on Sue this is your fantasy, a line of cocks all in a row throbbing just for you." He seemed to actually be perplexed by her unease.

"Ah I know it’s doing the women too, is that it?" he asked. Sue’s eyes bulged, she hadn’t even thought about having to do anything for the women involved.

Tears had sprung to her eyes. He just didn’t get it. In her fantasies she was forced to do these things, cruel savage strangers made her do it against her will. Here he was expecting her to do it of her own volition. Her mouth opened and closed but still no words would come to her.

He took hold of her crotch rope giving it a slight tug.

"It's because you can’t fuck them, is that it? Well forget it bitch, They can use your mouth but your ass and cunt are mine!"

She burst into tears, how could he even think that? While it was true she didn’t like giving oral very much, he didn’t understand what the real problem was. If she didn’t answer him soon it was all just going to get worse.

"I’m sorry Master, these are people I know." She blubbered. "In my fantasies I am forced by strangers. Steve and Linda, they have no idea… they’ll tell all the neighbors, all of them, everyone will think I’m a…"

"Did you think nothing would change when you wore my collar?" he asked.

"Do I really have to do this?" Susan whimpered.

"No,Of course not." He responded with only a hint of disappointment.

Standing he strode across to the mantel and plucked her collar from it’s box.

"This can wait. We’ll discuss it tomorrow. I should have warned you I suppose."

His voice had lost some of its hard edge but she felt she was letting him down.

"Go upstairs and change." He told her.

She remained where she was looking up into his face. Anger and irritation had evaporated. His look of disappointment was slowly fading replaced with concern. She took few deep breaths trying to push her fears away. After three breaths she felt a little calmer, ready to continue. She looked up at her husband then lowered her eyes.

"I would stay and please my Master if he would allow it." she said at last.

"Are you sure?" he asked, a little irritation creeping back into his voice.

She nodded silently. He replaced the collar in its box, returned to her side and bent to kissed her.

"Well if you two have worked all that out I wouldn’t mind having first dibs. We need to get home and change for the party." Sam already had his pants down and was proudly displaying a raging erection.

The words had been directed at Roger. Once she had agreed to continue Susan became nothing but a warm wet mouth for him to fuck. By the time Roger nodded Sam was already in front of her pressing against her hesitant lips. They trembled as they parted with reluctance. Sam’s penis was longer than Roger though not quite as thick. He pushed his way forward and began sawing back and forth to his own rapid rhythm. Susan tried to help him along using her tongue as best as she could. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine it was Roger but Sam tasted different too. If she could have used her hands and cupped his balls it might have hurried things along. She maintained her position, hands crossed behind her back, as he banged away at the back of her throat until she couldn’t help but gag. He lasted for several minutes and her jaw was starting to ache when he finally came in jetting spurts that she just couldn’t keep up with. Semen dribbled from her lips as he slipped out of her mouth. Susan anxiously looked at Kim but her friend was looking on without the least hint of jealousy, only the honest sympathy of someone who had too often suffered the same fate.

Sam pulled up his pants and went to get their coats. Kim crouched down next to her, gave her a fierce hug and whispered to her.

"He can be so full of himself, but I do love him, anyway I’m his. I guess you’re getting to know what that sort of thing really means now." And she gave Sue a peck on the forehead.

Sam and Kim left and for a short time Roger and Susan were alone again.

He went to the buffet and returned with a glass of white wine and a damp cloth napkin. He used the napkin to clean some cum from her lips and chin then pressed the glass to her lips.

A Chardonnay, at the moment it seemed the perfect way to wash away the taste of a strangers semen from her mouth. She was about to become a bit of a connoisseur of male semen she mused darkly. She suddenly realized her Master had always been aware of her oral reluctance after all. It was just the type of thing he might plan. This would indeed be a challenge for her. With a mental shrug she realized her task was an overdue lesson. The absurdity of it all, her initial reluctance, his long delayed response, it all suddenly struck her as quite comical and she barely suppressed a giggle.

"May I speak?" she asked

He answered with a smile and a nod.

"Can a girl please her Master?"

He grinned at her." You already have, and you will continue to, but I won’t be using you again until after our midnight kiss. Once you wear my collar not before." At that moment she relished the thought of him pumping vigorously between her lips. She longed for it but she wasn’t surprised that he would deny her that, for now. Her desires delayed yet again. She wasn’t sure she could wait that long the rope’s scratchy fibers were unsettling and she was having a hard time keeping still. With great effort her hands remained in place though she was sorely tempted to adjust the crotch rope.

When next the doorbell rang it was Joe and Barbara Nickerson. Roger showed them where all the food and drinks were before ushering them into the living room. Both Joe and Barbara grinned at the sight of her, they too had seen her naked before but still the situation brought a flush of shame to Susan’s cheeks. It was Barbara who produced the long thin gift-wrapped box from her purse. She handed it to Roger with a broad smile, then turning to Susan whispered "Happy birthday darlin’."

Roger unwrapped the box for her and showed his lover what the Nickerson’s had brought for her. The box contained a pair of heavy cloverleaf nipple clamps connected with a silver chain.

"That will go so well with her new collar." Roger commented, "I’m sure she’ll want to model these for you. Don’t you dear?"

It wasn’t really a question but Susan nodded yes even as she dreaded what was about to happen.

Barbara knelt in front of Susan taking her left nipple between thumb and forefinger and twisting and pinching it while her lips ensnared Sue’s right nipple drawing it in so her tongue could play across the sensitive nub.

Susan was struggling not to push her away, Barbara switched sides drawing the left nipple into her mouth while her fingers teased the engorged right nipple and all Susan wanted to do now was embrace her friend. Still she remembered to keep her hands behind her back locked in place by his command and her own struggling self-control.

Joe nudged his wife aside and held the nipple clamps out for the wide-eyed Susan to see. She watched in fascination as he squeezed the clamp open, then he grasped her left nipple and pulled it straight out. She gasped and winced in pain as the clamp closed on her sensitive flesh. Her eyes remained tightly closed while he repeated the procedure on her right nipple. Once both clamps were secure he allowed the chain connecting them to drop. It may have only weighed a few ounces but to Susan it seemed the weight of the world was tugging on her distended nipples. The doorbell chimed again, Kim and Sam had returned freshly changed and ready for the party. They both stopped to admire Sue’s new jewelry

For the moment they left her to her suffering while Joe sent Barbara off to fetch him a beer. Susan was dimly aware of the men discussing piercing they’d like done to their women. Barbara brought Joe his beer and she and Kim went over to the mantel to admire the shiny new collar. When Susan turned her head back she found Joe’s throbbing erection awaiting her attention.

With a resigned sigh she drew him in her tongue lightly flickering beneath the fleshy rod. He casually sipped on his Heineken as the men’s conversation continued without interruption. His penis was a bit shorter than the other two but it was monstrously thick and she strained to stretch her lips around it. He also seemed to have no intention of exerting himself allowing her to move her head up and down on his rod at a leisurely pace. This was one thing Susan really disliked about giving head; she had to do all the work.

 Without the use of her hands all she could do is rock back and forth on her knees her head bobbing up and down the shaft. Even anal was easier than this, for that she just had to relax and kneel there while her Master did all the thrusting and pumping. She squeezed her eyes tight as she licked and sucked, her throat gurgled as she desperately bobbed her head and swallowed.

That was the scene Erica and Mathew walked into.

"You didn’t say it was going to be that kind of party." Erica smirked and then she spoke briefly to Mathew, sending him out to the car.

He returned a few moments later and presented Erica with a springy light riding crop.

"Well don’t stand there Strip boy!" she snapped at Mathew.

Matt was blushing furiously as he peeled off his clothes, folded them neatly, and piled them in the corner of the living room. He returned to kneel shyly by his Mistresses side unable to hide his excitement.

Sue had been working on Joe for almost ten minutes, though it seemed like forever to her. He showed little interest in finishing any time soon. Her jaw was stretched and aching, her tongue was flickering wildly, and she was silently praying for his release.
Erica went over to greet Roger and the naked Mathew crawled along behind her. Mathew seemed to be staring at Susan but with a different kind of longing.

Erica presented Roger with the fine black leather riding crop to use for his pleasure or whenever Susan needed "correction". When Erica noticed where Mathew’s attention had wandered she snapped at him to pay attention. He turned back to her, eyes wide with fear. She nodded and he dropped to his hands and knees. With three practiced flicks she stripped his upper back and he whimpered. He didn’t seem upset at all and he immediately refocused all his attention on Erica bending low to kiss her boot.

"As you can see it’s most effective, though I’m afraid this one is slightly used. Mathew, you will apologize for staring at this mans wife and I’ll deal with you later."

Mathew apologized humbly but Roger waved it off saying it was Susan’s night and they should all pay attention to her. Erica seemed to scowl a bit at those words but did turn the riding crop over to Roger who placed it on the coffee table next to Susan.

Joe had finished his beer and decided it was time to move things along. He grasped the back of Susan’s head and started pounding into her mouth like a horny jackhammer. She gagged and sputtered as his balls repeatedly slapped against her chin and her nose was pressed into his thick patch of pubic hair. Just when she was sure she’d suffocate he began to cum deep in her throat. She might have gagged that down but Joe seemed to take perverse pleasure in cumming on, not in, his victim. He pulled out spurting over her face, hair, and neck. Susan was near tears and wanted desperately to wipe her face but with a great effort her hands still remained crossed behind her back.

Erica came over to examine her more closely. She tugged on the crotch rope, then smiled at the nipple clamps lifting the chain and giving it a tug. She squatted down by the slave. Erica looked with disgust at Susan’s semen splattered face.

"Mathew, get over here! I’ll not have her licking my pussy while she’s covered in some man's cum! Clean the slut up for me, and be quick about it."

Mathew knelt before the poor abused woman and began to lick her face clean. Susan shuddered, blinking back tears; this was the sweetest thing that had happened to her since before the party started tonight. His cat like tongue worked its way across her lips, her chin, and her cheeks, even following the strands of semen into her hair. When he started working down her neck she was definitely presenting her breasts to him, pushing them up toward him and he delicately licked away the traces of sprayed ejaculate. Susan panted with renewed desire. Before he could lavish any more attention on them his Mistress intervened.

"Enough you worthless slut." She said.

It was unclear which of the two she was reprimanding. But Mathew scuttled away on his hands and knees. His own cock betrayed him and his Mistress glowered at his stiff erection.

"You faithless little prick. After all I’ve done for you you’d want to dip your little cock in that worthless slut!" She was smiling as she said it but Mathew hardly noticed. He was in terror, scuttling back to his Mistress he groveled at her feet licking her booted feet.

Erica picked up the crop and laid half a dozen lazy strokes across Matthew’s upturned bottom as he alternated between yelps and boot licking.

Erica turned to Roger crop still in hand. "What about your little bitch? Shall I give the little slut a taste of the crop?"

Susan turned her eyes toward her Master while he seemed to weigh the remark. "I think you’re a little eager Erica. I’ll make sure she feels your present before the evenings over but for now why don’t you just relax and enjoy her talented tongue." Susan was relived but dare not show it.

"You spoil her you know. If you’d let me have her for a week I’d show you how well trained a slut she could be"

Roger smiled at Erica but said nothing. Erica grunted seeming somewhat put off. There were people who paid a lot of money for what she was offering Roger; he didn’t seem to appreciate that. Mathew was still worshiping her boots but she pushed him backward with a raised foot and then advanced on the cowering Susan.

Erica stood in front of Susan for a few moments then her foot began tapping impatiently. Susan was puzzled. The woman’s skirt hung to mid thigh and she’d made no move to lift it. Mathew knelt behind his Mistress, he was trying to give silent instruction bowing his head and making licking motions with his tongue as if pantomiming a puppy.

Susan didn’t understand. She leaned forward and tried to lick the woman’s thigh.

"Jez! Roger haven’t you taught the bitch anything?" Erica yelped as she jumped back from the kneeling Susan.

"I’m afraid we’re a little less formal around here and I’m not really into foot worship." Roger explained.

"Now Sue be a good girl and say you’re sorry. Then ask if you can lick her boots. If you do a real good job She might allow you to lick her someplace else."

After apologizing she was granted permission to clean the Mistress’s boots and she lavished attention on the shiny black leather striving desperately to please the woman. After almost ten minutes Erica hiked up her skirt and sat on the edge of the coffee table spreading her legs and ordering Susan to begin.

Susan was a little hesitant at first, frightened and intimidated by the woman’s authority and wanting desperately to please Erica and by doing so please her own Master. She began by tentatively licking her way up Erica’s thigh before running her tongue teasingly along the length of Erica’s slowly parting lips. Mathew knelt beside his Mistress looking very distressed, Roger tried to hand him a beer but he didn’t take it and it sat ignored on the coffee table. His eyes didn’t leave his Mistress’s face as she softly gasped closing her eyes she seemed to be purring as Susan’s tongue worked its magic delicately strumming back and forth across Erica’s thickening nether lips.

The Mistress had no patience for such delicate niceties, grabbing hold of Susan’s ears she pressing herself against the startled captive rubbing and grinding against her mouth as Sue tirelessly stroked with her tongue.

That was the scene the Anderson’s walked into. Susan hadn’t even heard the doorbell.

 

IV

"Oh My GOD!" Linda shrieked as she took in the sight of her friend bound and naked lapping away at another woman’s crotch. Linda seemed ready to turn and run but Steve wrapped his arm around her shoulder protectively. He was blushing, embarrassed, not so much by what he saw, but rather by his wife’s reaction to it.

"I warned you that this party would be a lot wilder than we’re used to." Steve grinned weakly. Linda was burying her head behind his shoulder now, shaking, but her eyes were wide open as she peeked over his sheltering shoulder and stared into the living room. Susan rocked on her knees busily licking away as Erica groaned and wiggled her hips.

Linda allowed herself to be brought into the other room. Roger and Kim joined the Anderson’s and bits of animated conversation floated back into the living room over the soft jazz. At least there was no immediate sound of a door slamming. As the minutes passed the voices lowered and Roger came back into the living room while Barbara went off to help calm Linda. After a while some giggling was heard, eventually Linda peeked her head back into the living room to stare at Sue and Erica.

As Erica responded to Sue’s ministrations Mathew was becoming distressed. He crawled back to his Mistress’s side and was nuzzling against her outer thigh while Susan’s tongue labored to please the demanding woman.

With mild annoyance Erica ruffled her hand through Matthew’s hair "Oh don’t be so insecure Mattie. You’re still my baby; I’m just going to have her lick me for awhile. If you’re very good maybe I’ll let her suck your little cock too." Erica turned to Roger.

"Is that all right? I mean would you make her suck this worthless slave’s cock?"

Roger answered with a shrug.

"I don’t see why not, it is a holiday party. Everyone should enjoy themselves."

But Erica wasn't really interested in his answer, by then she had closed her eyes and was lost in the sensations that Sue’s busy little mouth was creating.

The three women who had gathered in the dining room appeared again this time pushing Linda’s husband Steve out into the living room so they could converse without any masculine interference. Linda who had finished her second glass of wine and started on a third was swaying a bit and her words were a little hesitant, but certainly not slurred, as she called out after her husband.

"You’ll just have to wait your turn Steve" she giggled before finishing her thought "I’m going to be in to see the show, so don’t you start without me." Kim guided her through a wobbly turn back toward the dining room when she had finished that rather surprising announcement.

Roger grinned at this turn of events. It seemed that Kim and Barb had the situation well in hand. Still it would be good to get the women back in here before the conversation turned inevitably back toward football, politics, and his very naked wife, in more or less that order. The giggles from the other room were interrupted first by howling laughter and then by a bit of conspiratorial whispering. The men were becoming curious and edged toward the dining room trying to hear what the three women were up to. They were for the moment ignoring Susan who was being tightly held in Erica's grip. With her head trapped Sue felt the beginnings of panic for Erica was pushing her pussy against her immobilized face and franticly rubbing up and down against her mouth and nose.

With a series of grunts and groans Erica shuddered for a few moments then released her hold on Sue's head. Erica panted trying to gather her composure along with her breath. "She’s not half bad Roger. I think I could really make you proud of her if you'd give me a couple weeks with the little slut."

Roger didn’t even acknowledge the idea and Mathew was insistently rubbing against his mistress's thigh. Erica shoved Matt away harshly and pushed herself up off the coffee table. "Just for that you can go last you little perv." Erica angrily shouted but the tearful look on Matt’s face was enough to melt even her anger and she ruffled his hair with her left hand. The boy practically glowed with gratitude for her touch.

It was at that point that the three women re-entered the living room. Barbara and Kim were topless wearing nothing but their panties, stockings, and shoes. The men stared appreciatively at the freshly exposed feminine flesh. Linda was not quite as bold as the others but had bravely stripped down to her bra and panties and her Husband was amazed that his shy and inhibited wife was willing to be that daring. Amazing what a little wine and some bad influence will do for a party he mused to himself.

His amazement and surprise had barely been tweaked yet. His wife came up behind him wrapping her arms around his waist and started to clumsily fumble with his belt from behind. He was pleasantly shocked. He knew this wasn’t like her and wondered if he should stay her hands or see where this might lead. Curiosity got the better of him. She managed to open his pants and fish out his growing penis with her right hand. She circled around to his front without letting go and started to gently stroke. As he began to stiffen she led her captivated husband over to the waiting bound slave.

Susan winced from the strong smell of wine as Linda bent closer to give slightly slurred instructions on how she was to handle her husband Steve.

"Yous needs to be gentle with him, and nuzzle his balls, hessh likes that, annnd no nippin or biting or I’ll get real mad." Linda lectured her finger wavering in Susan’s face. Spying the riding crop resting on the coffee table she grinned picked it up and added "and I’ll beats your bum, I will!"

Steve was looking sheepish as his wife made a fool of herself but there was no denying he was getting very excited. He allowed Linda to pull him forward so his rigid cock was throbbing inches above Susan’s open mouth His cock was twitching up and down with each pound of his pulse. If he moved any closer it would be thumping against her forehead. She knelt up and greeted his penis with her warm moist tongue tasting the length of him before drawing him in. He sighed contentedly while she pulled him deeply into her mouth tilting her head back slightly to open her throat.

She realized she was learning from this evening’s experience. Her Master was teaching her through practice and repetition and she was no longer fighting the process. While it was by no means the erotic fantasy she would have chosen it was what he wanted from her and that was good enough for her. She would please him by pleasing these others. Where her first reaction had been to feel debased and shamed, those feelings had given way to a sense of familiarity and a certain satisfaction in her new found skill. She had now passed beyond that. She was developing a real confidence in her talent and ability. Performing before an audience left her feeling very slutish but even that was exciting in a very sensual way.

She worked her mouth rapidly over Steve’s shaft while he groaned with pleasure. The noises he made stirred her to greater effort. Her lips clung to him while she pulled back nearly allowing his head to pop free. Then she plunged forward swallowing as she went and he was deep into her throat moaning with lust.

Susan was aware that all eyes were on her, watching her perform and rather than feeling ashamed as she might have when the evening had begun she felt a sense of pride. She was the conqueror; here on her knees she would take them all on. It was she who was overcoming her fear, learning to embrace what she had heretofore suffered through with distaste. In fact the thick fullness filling her mouth was becoming a rather pleasant sensation.

Steve grunted and clutched at her head. Within a heart beat he was cumming filling her mouth as he shoved his way forward blocking her throat while she desperately tried to swallow. Panic momentarily flickered through her but she allowed her mind to go blank. She continued to swallow while her bulging lips slackened a bit and a mouthful of semen dribbled down her chin dripping between her breasts.

She continued to suck and swallow as he pulled away. A thin string of sticky fluid stretched between them for a moment then broke. Susan looked up shyly; they were all gathered around staring down at her in awed silence. She knelt before them cum dripping down her chin with a sly smile on her face. She knew for a fact every cock in the room was stirring with desire. She felt incredibly sluttish and paradoxically proud of the fact.

"God damn" Roger exclaimed, "She sucked him off in just two minutes, three tops." His voice was filled with surprise and admiration. His proud proclamation made her wet and excited, if her hands were free she might have allowed them to drift down between her parted thighs. It wasn’t an overwhelming urge so there was no danger of her breaking her discipline, yet.

"Yeah but Steve’s just easy" Joe chided, "Bet she couldn’t get me off that quick."

"Well she just did you Joe. You’re not a kid anymore; maybe you ought to wait a while to make it fair for her." Barbara chimed in. Besides we women deserve our turn.

Barbara and Kim ended up tossing a coin to see who would be first. Linda declined but her husband was working hard to persuade her. Kim won the coin flip and slid out of her panties, stretching out on the coffee table without the least bit of embarrassment. Susan seemed unaware of the crowd that gathered around to watch. She approached her friends wide spread thighs with a rapt attention. Her tongue darted out and Sue started to lick and nibble her way toward the hairless cleft. As Sues tongue licked and teased her friends pouting nether lips Kim was squirming and moaning. Susan’s tongue began to rapidly thrust in and out and Kim had her clenched right fist in her mouth and was biting down trying to suppress the shuddering scream that was building. Roger spoke up.

"Slow down girl!" he ordered "Don’t be in such a rush, let her enjoy herself. Let’s all enjoy the show."

Susan responded immediately, her tongue withdrawing and returning to the teasing licks. Kim was able to draw a faltering breath, and then another. Her hips continued to rock while Susan’s sweet tongue slowly worked on Kim's smooth hairless cleft, but now long, smooth, lingering strokes were caressing her gapping nether lips. Kim became more relaxed coming down from her nearly climactic experience and for now Sue kept her friend aroused without driving her back toward that precipice.

It was an incredibly intense sight for the five men and three ladies who had gathered to watch. Kim was stretched out languidly across the low table. Her generous breasts pointing up toward the ceiling rose and fell with each shuddering breath. Her feet were planted on either side of Susan and her hips tilted slightly as they rocked to a rhythm dictated by her desire. Susan for her part knelt between those gently swaying hips bent forward with her tongue darting and her hands still clasped obediently behind her back. Those hands might have been better used teasing Kim’s nipples or even to support herself as she bent to her task but that was not what Roger would allow. Susan bent precariously over her friend, her own pleasingly curved bottom temptingly exposed, clad in nothing more than a thin scratchy rope thong.

Roger eventually decided it was time to move things along. He knelt down behind Sue and she sensed more than felt his presence. Her bottom squirmed seductively as if searching for his touch. Roger had no intention of disappointing her. He cupped his right hand and rubbed it against her bottom moving in a clockwise circle that covered both cheeks. Sue was whimpering as she licked at Kim’s thick wet lips. Roger drew his hand back and for a timeless moment all was motionless and silent. Sue ceased her ministrations and strained for her master’s touch, Kim wiggled her hips waiting for Sue to begin again and Rogers hand swept forward in a powerful arc.

Flesh met flesh with a resounding crack. The cupped palm striking against her firm bottom was so much louder than a flat hand. A muffled cry escaped Susan lips as she was driven forward by the force of the blow.

"No one told you to take a break," Roger declared as he brought his hand down across Susan’s rump again. Susan squealed and again lunged forward from the blow. Her tongue was now deeply embedded in her friend and Kim gasped with pleasure. Roger struck again and Sue let out another muffled yelp. Roger started to alternate between her cheeks, left then right then left again. The blows were firm, evenly spaced and hard enough to leave bright red palm prints that soon were overlapping. Each time she was struck Sue was driven forward her tongue penetrating Kim, but within a heartbeat Sue pressed herself back offering her bottom for the next slap.

It was nothing compared to the sharp blows Mistress Erica had laid across Mathew’s shoulder with the crop. Those distinct stripes were still an angry dark red, though Mathew seemed quite inured to that type of harsh discipline. Sue’s bottom bucked and twisted under the blows Roger was administering. They left her cheeks glowing a bright red broken only by the tight ropes that traversed her bottom. A few dozen loud smacks on Sue's bottom was all it took to drive Kim over the brink and she came with a screech, squeezing her legs together and trying to push Sue’s head away with her hands.

Kim lay gasping for a few moments then rose on unsteady legs. It turned out that Kim was a bit of a squirter, and left a fair size puddle behind. Kim might have felt a little embarrassed by that, but it was her best friend Sue who was forced to lick the puddle clean. After a few minutes Roger relented and used a hand towel to finish drying off the tabletop.

After that display Barbara was eager for a chance to take Kim's place.

 

V

 

Sue straightened, kneeling back, so she rested on her haunches. The throbbing heat from her well-slapped bottom had diffused into a pleasant warm glow. Her naked heels pressing against her ass cheeks were contrasting points of coolness that only emphasized the lingering heat. The rope that was pulled deep between her cheeks and rubbed against her splayed pussy lips was a continuous irritation. Both sensations only added to her frustration, but there was no denying the hemp was getting quite damp. 

Susan was aware that everyone was watching her, and she tried to keep her eyes lowered. The temptation was hard to resist and, despite her resolve, she cast occasional glances up at her audience. She was proud that she'd become a fascinating object of entertainment, serving for their pleasure and that of her master. 

She could do them all, as often as they liked. There would be no stopping her. She would claim her collar and wear it proudly. Slowly and quite deliberately Sue wiggled her hips as she ran her tongue across her lips moistening them and causing an audible sigh from one of the guests. Sue was definitely performing for the crowd and enjoyed being the center of attention. Then her glance fell upon Roger, his carefully controlled, neutral, expression was enough to warn her that something was wrong and she instinctively lowered her eyes. 

Damn it she was only doing this for him. What could be his problem? 

Roger bent down beside her and whispered briefly in her ear. 

"Pride is a dangerous emotion, for a collared slave." 

Sue felt as if she'd been physically jerked backward. Was it a warning? A rebuke? How the hell did he even know what she was feeling? A shudder ran through her body. Not for the first time she thought he might know her a little bit too well. Her smugness and confidence were stripped away by those few words. A sob caught in her throat, and she lowered her head, refocusing all her attentions on performing the tasks he'd assigned for the evening.                     

Barbara wiggled out of her panties and stretched out across the coffee table in front of Sue. She squirmed on the wooden surface trying to get comfortable. Sue dutifully hurried forward on her knees, bent down, and began to lick and kiss her way up Barbara's thigh. After enduring a few dozen teasing licks Barb decided she wanted to lie on something more comfortable.  

She pushed Sue back, stood up and crossed the room and looking over the available furniture. She spied a brownish leather hassock serving as a footstool in front of the smaller couch. Barb dragged the ottoman away from the love seat and out into the center of the room. It was upholstered with a smooth rich leather the color of a dark burgundy Barbara rubbed her hand over the glossy surface.  

"You don't mind do you Roger?" she asked. 

"Be my guest." Roger answered with a pleasant nod.  

Barbara knelt and dropped down to her hands and knees crouching over the leather bench. She sighed as her swaying breasts brushed softly across the curved top.  

"Come on Sue, do your thing girl." Barb said. 

Barbara wiggled her rump up in the air while snuggling her breast down toward the ottoman. She forcefully pressed her nipples against the cool leather surface feeling them stiffen at the contact.  

Sue hobbled across to the ottoman on her knees with her hands still clasped obediently behind her back. The rest of the group followed behind to watch her next performance. When she arrived at her destination Susan impishly planted a big wet kiss on her girlfriends left butt cheek. Barbara giggled and spread her legs a bit wider. Susan bent again to lick her friend. Her tongue didn't zero in on Barb's sex though; instead she explored down the crevice of her bottom lingering for a moment before delving into the pouting rosebud of her asshole. Barbara squirmed in a most delightful way. 

"Oh God! Fuck! Don't stop that. Joe! Get over here I need your cock! Now!" 

While Sue's tongue swirled in tight circles trying to pry open her girlfriend's sensitive little hole, Joe hurried over to his wife. He was in front of her; pants down, hard and erect, by the time Barb raised her head. Without a moment’s hesitation Barbara lips slid over his pulsing erection as she swallowed him down. While the others watched mesmerized the threesome developed its own natural rhythm. First Joe would thrust into Barb's mouth with a hearty grunt. This would force his wife back against Sue's tongue and Sue would dutifully delve deeper, penetrating the tight ring of muscle with her tongue. Barb's hips would wiggle for a moment and then she would pitch forward as Joe’s cock pulled away. Then the whole sequence was repeated as Joe rammed his cock deep into Barb's throat. Barbara was sighing and gurgling with delight as she desperately swallowed her husband's throbbing cock and she enjoyed in the delectable reaming she was receiving from Sue's dancing tongue which was gently opened her reticent asshole.  

 "Looks to good to pass up, Do ya mind Roger?" Kim said as she sank to her knees behind Sue. Roger didn't say a word and Kim took that for an “OK”. 

It was never Roger’s intention for the party to devolve into an orgy. He’d only thought to teach his wife a little humility and perhaps have her sharpen her oral skills. Still the scene was becoming quite entertaining even if it wasn’t exactly how he’d seen things turning out. 

Kim stroked Sue's bottom kissing and licking along the glowing red splotches that still decorated her perfect little ass. One hand teasingly tugged at the crotch rope and Sue groaned as the two knots rubbed against her sensitive flesh. Kim ran her fingers along the rope.  

"God she's got it soaking wet." Kim exclaimed as she worked her fingers past the improvised hemp thong. 

Susan face flushed a deep red with Kim's announcement, but she had more pressing problems than a little embarrassment. Sue was squirming with irritable discomfort as Kim's fingers worked their way between the ropes that were precisely positioned to tease, torment, and frustrate her two most vulnerable openings. As fingers wormed between the ropes poking into Sue's pussy the stretched hemp chaffed against the inner lips of her sex. Susan groaned with true anguish, and then Kim's tongue was bathing her heated ass cheeks with wide wet swaths that cooled the throbbing heat from her spanking and left her senses both confused and frustrated. 

Joe was the driving force of this human chain pushing into Barbara's throat as he literally fucked his wife's face. Kim, kneeling behind Sue had dropped one hand down for stability while she continued to lick Sue's inflamed ass cheeks and toy with the nasty scratchy rope cinch. 

"Don't even dream of cumming slut! You know I'm not about to allow that to happen." Roger growled at Sue. 

“At least not till next year." he smirked, even though that was an ancient New Years Eve joke. 

Susan whimpered and groaned as tears ran down her cheeks. She was being buffeted between her two friends trying to stay up on her knees and not use her hands.

Sam couldn't help but notice that Kim's bottom was swaying seductively as she pumped forward and back in response to Joe's thrusts at the far end of this human chain. Sam grinned at Roger then knelt behind his wife and took a firm grip on her hips.

 "Yess…" Kim hissed. 

 Sam drove hard and deep into her sopping pussy. He thrust in and out a few times before he and Joe reached an equilibrium. The men formed the propulsion of a fast pumping seesaw, with the women being ridden at either end and poor Sue the teetering fulcrum on which the entire chain balanced. Kim released her grip on the hemp thong and dropped both hands to the ground to steady herself. She was on hands and knees, her head and shoulders sliding forward over Sue’s bottom, her breasts slapped against Sue's butt each time Sam drove into her. Kim continued to whisper "Yes!" with each stroke. Through it all Susan continued to work her tongue on Barb and maintain a precarious balance without using her hands.

The Anderson's watched with a mixture of shock, fascination and (at least in Steve’s case) admiration. Erica was nearly drooling as she tapped her right fist against her flank in time with the thrusts. It was as if she imagined she was still holding the crop. Mathew was no longer on his knees but standing a respectful pace behind his wife and looking past her toward the tangled human chain with a wistful grin. Roger looked on with a neutral gaze studying Sue and ignoring everyone else.

Sam pulled all the way out of Kim and she groaned with disappointment. Then she felt his slippery cock pressing a little higher searching for a tighter opening.

"No! Not there, you bastard!" She cried as he slowly pressed forward.

With steady pressure and a firm grip on Kim's hips Sam pressed ahead. Kim's resistance collapsed and he slipped deep into her bottom.

"Yes damn it!” Kim screamed “Harder!” and Sam was only too happy to oblige.  

Joe's thrusts were becoming erratic and the chain was beginning to come undone. With a wild bellow he jerked his cock out of Barbara's mouth. He wrapped his right fist around it; squeezing tight to hold back his ejaculation. His left hand twisted into Barb’s hair and he jerked her head down. With a grunt he released a thick stream of semen across the back of her neck then pulled her head up twisting it from left to right and spewing out a thick band of ejaculate that formed a complete circle around her neck.  

Barbara was used to Joe’s artistic bent. She kept her eyes tightly shut and her neck loose and limber, while he splattered his seed around her neck. When he was finished he hauled her head up higher, proudly displaying his creation for the others to admire. Barb’s sigh seemed to betray just a hint of pride within her resignation. 

The dripping necklace wasn’t destined to last long though. Barbra’s hips had pressed down against the leather ottoman. Sue’s tongue had lost its place in the fray. When Joe released his grip on Barbara’s hair she fell to the hassock and Sue’s body slide forward along Barb’s back. Kim was buffeted up and over Sue as she was slammed forward by Sam’s enthusiastic assault.  

Sam came moments later, shuddering as he emptied himself deep in Kim’s ass then pulling back letting his semen drip from her stretched bottom.

The girls remained a panting, tangled stack on the hassock. Barbara on the bottom of the pile had collapsed under the weight, limply slumped against the leather surface. Sue was sandwiched between her two girlfriends, her face smeared with semen from the back of Barb’s neck, and Kim was sprawled across Sue’s back like a sated lover. Through it all Susan had managed to keep her hands clasped together behind her back. 

“Well that was cute.” Erica smirked. 

The three women slowly separated, Kim stood up, and feeling the trickle of liquid down her legs, darted off toward the bathroom. Roger held out a hand for Sue helping her to once more kneel up straight. Barb at last was able to stagger off the hassock and quickly followed after Kim, eager to get cleaned up. 

There were a few spots left on the leather where Barb’s neck had rested. Roger nodded to them meaningfully.  Susan understood what was required and bent to lick the hassock clean. 

Erica turned toward Linda. 

“You’re next you know luv. Poor little Matty won’t get his blow job unless Sue licks you silly. You’re not going to be a party pooper are you? I mean Mathew would be so disappointed.” 

Linda turned a bright purple, her mouth opening and closing, but she was too shocked to know what to say. She looked about for her husband but Steve was off talking to Joe and hadn’t heard a thing. It was Roger who came to her rescue. 

“Don’t worry Linda, nobody expects you to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I think you and Steve are real troupers just for showing up.”

 He gave Linda a reassuring pat on the shoulder then turned to Erica. 

“Erica have you and Matt ever been invited to the local Munch?” He asked as he headed toward the dining room. Erica took the bait and followed along behind, leaving the flustered Linda alone. 

“We meet every third Sunday for a brunch; it’s an informal get together for people into the scene. We just meet and chat at a local restaurant; but once you get to know some folks there are usually some play parties afterward.” Roger was laying it on thick and Erica had already forgotten all about teasing Linda. 

Sue was straining to hear the conversation as she licked the last droplets off the leather. She didn’t even realize Linda had squatted down next to her until she spoke. 

“You must really love him to do all this.” Linda said gesturing vaguely toward the hassock. 

Susan finished licking the leather clean then straightened back up. The chain between her nipple clamps made soft tinkling sound in the silence as Susan thought how best to answer. She looked into Linda’s eyes and saw only genuine curiosity and innocence.   

“Well of course I love him Linda, but that’s not really the point. Well at least it’s not the whole point. When I follow his commands it makes me feel needed, loved, and safe. I do it because I want to; I mean it’s almost like I need to. Am I making any sense?” 

Linda’s wide eyes had riveted on the cloverleaf clamps hanging from Sue’s tightly squeezed nipples. It was almost as if she hadn’t heard a word. She lifted the clamps from below taking up the chain’s weight for the moment.

 “Do they hurt terribly?” she asked. 

Susan winced as the movement of the pinching metal sent fresh waves of pain coursing through her fiercely pinched nipples. 

“Yes!” she hissed through gritted teeth.

Linda squeezed the clamps open. 

“Better?” she asked. 

Susan squeezed her eyes tight as blooded pounded back into the previously numb flesh painfully distending her tender nipples. Each beat of her pulse sent fresh waves of agony coursing from her breasts to her belly. Linda, oblivious to what was happening, leaned forward; perhaps she was going to hug or maybe even kiss Sue. Whatever her intention might have been the clamp that she was holding open poked against Susan’s sensitive areola. Sue yelped as she struggled not to double over in pain. 

“Oh god, I’m sorry.” Linda cried, “I was only trying to help. Doesn’t it make you feel better?” 

Susan spoke haltingly as the fresh pain threatened to overwhelm her. 

“Hurts, pains, pins, needles, Oh God, it hurts more.”

Tears were streaming down Sue’s face. Linda did what seemed to make sense to her. If opening the clamps made it hurt more, then there was only one thing to do. The nipple clamps snapped shut once more.

 The shriek of pain might have been heard down the street and it brought everyone racing back to the living room. Kim and Barbara scurried from the bathroom while Steve, Joe, and Sam turned from their beer and conversation to see what the problem was. Roger brushed past Erica and nearly knocked Matt over as he rushed back into the room.

If Linda had been tipsy before, Susan’s scream had sobered her. Linda was rocking on her knees her arms wrapped around Sue’s shoulders, hugging her as she babbled a confused apology.  

“OH God! Sue, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it! Please I’m sorry! I didn’t know.” Linda was shedding more tears than Sue. 

Sue had turned pale white. She was whimpering like a wounded animal as she clutched her injured nipples. Her tear filled eyes sought out her lover. Susan saw the look of concern in his eyes as he dashed though the door.

 And then she saw it fade. She was suddenly aware that her hands were clutching her breasts. Roger lowered his eyes shaking his head. She knew without a word spoken that the evening, the collar, her hopes, were all over.

 She had failed him. She had failed his test. It was finished.

 Roger was beside her now; he pulled out a pocket knife and slipped it between her breasts. Sue was numbly shaking her head in protest.

 Linda shrieked at the sight of the knife. 

“No Roger, don’t! It wasn’t her fault! I did it. It was my fault! All my fault!”

 Linda didn’t realize exactly what was happening but she knew it wasn’t what Susan wanted and she really felt it was all her fault. She wanted to make it right somehow. She was unable to believe that she couldn’t.   

  Sue watched in frozen disbelief as the knife sliced through the hemp and the rope binding her breasts fell away. She sobbed hopelessly as the finality of her failure was driven home.

 “You can go get some clothes on Sue.” Roger said quietly as the shiny blade slipped between her hip and the rope belt.

 

 

VI

 

Susan was in a panic. The entire evening was falling apart so fast she could hardly catch her breath. It just wasn’t fair! She’d done everything he’d wanted of her, willingly. How could he expect her not to react when her breasts were being viciously mauled?

Roger had sliced through the ropes binding her breasts without a moment’s hesitation. She felt the cold metal of the blade press against her hip then slip under her crotch rope. Sue wanted to scream, to protest, and to keep this from happening. Her mind was churning furiously and time slowed nearly to a standstill.

She knew he had made his decision and there was nothing she could do to change his mind. If she protested that this was all Linda’s fault, not hers, he would greet those words with contempt. Her hope, her only hope, was to beg for his forgiveness, for another chance. The problem was she wasn’t going to be given the time to make that plea. The sharp edge of the blade was turning away from her flesh and she felt the rope tighten.

“Yellow light, Master!”

The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could think it through. Susan had gone seven years without using her safe words, now she’d used them twice in one evening. Worse yet, that was not what safe words were meant for. She was abusing them. She knew it and so did he. Still if ever a scene needed a ‘time out’ to be talked through now was the time.

It worked. Roger froze; the blade still cold against her hip. The cutting edge still pressed against her hemp belt and she sucked her belly in to keep the pressure off the rope. She had definitely caught him off guard. She was being given her chance but she had to convince him quickly or that chance would slip away.

Linda was still clinging to her trying to undo the damage she’d caused.

 “It was my fault Roger, please don’t hurt her.” Linda sobbed.

That wasn’t at all helpful so Sue gave Linda a reassuring kiss on the cheek before gently but firmly pushing her away.

“Hush now Linda, everything will be all right.” Sue said soothingly, with a confidence she didn’t feel.

 Then she turned to face her husband.

“Master, I know I don’t deserve it. I’ve made too many mistakes, but if you’d allow me I would beg for a chance to keep trying. I want to please you. I want to make YOU proud. I may never be worthy of your collar, but if it pleases you, I will strive to do better. May I beg you for another chance, Sir?”

    The words came out in a tumble, spoken quickly without a breath or a pause. She hadn’t thought them through but even as she spoke them she realized every one of them was profoundly true. She was totally his, and she wanted to be his even more completely. She could only hope that he understood and wanted the same. Sue lowered her eyes and waited.

    Time remained at a standstill and she hardly dared to breath. At last she felt the knife flatten against her skin then slide away. Sue drew a breath, unwilling to risk a glance at Roger’s face. She heard the ‘snick’ of the pocket knife folding and felt the heavy weight of time passing as she waited for her lover’s judgment.

    “Those words were not given to you so you could manipulate me, Sue. Make sure that this never happens again.”

    “Yes Master.”

    There was another long pause and Sue glanced up at his face. She shouldn’t have bothered; it was an emotionless mask that revealed nothing.

    “You need to be punished.” He said at last.

    Sue sighed, her body relaxed, joy flooded back into her soul. She’d been granted a reprieve. She knew she didn’t deserve this chance, but he’d given her a break, he truly loved her and would give her yet another chance. She hardly considered what her punishment might be. She’d earned it.  Whether or not her breaking discipline justified a punishment was a moot point, she definitely deserved one for abusing her ‘safe word’.         

 “No Roger, don’t hurt her! I’m the one who deserves to be punished. This is entirely my fault.” Linda cried.

Both Roger and Sue turned and stared open mouthed at Linda. They’d been so tightly focused on each other that they’d forgotten all about the others. Roger might have been startled by the interruption but he quickly recovered. Linda was his guest, (and a neophyte) so his response was calm and tempered. A grin spread briefly across his face.

“Linda, it’s very sweet of you to try and protect Susan, but I’m sure this is something best worked out between Sue and me. As for whether you deserve punishment that is something you need to take up with Steve. It’s not really up to me or Susan.”

Linda looked away, blinking back tears. Her evening had been a series of startling new experiences. The prim and proper Linda now found herself kneeling next to Susan, clad only in her bra and panties. She was flustered, anxious, nervous, but feeling an excitement that she knew she should deny. Linda wondered just how far this night might take her. Her eyes sought out Steve who had been following the conversation and he now stared back at his wife with a frank, speculative, gaze. Linda lowered her eyes and blushed.

Roger turned back to Susan. Susan was still on her knees. Her hands were cradling her breasts, her fingers bearing the weight of the nipple clamps that had been so rashly snapped back into place. Roger squeezed the clamps open, lifted them away, and slipped the pair, chain and all, into his pocket. Susan barely whimpered.

“Since it seems your tits are what got you into this mess, it’s only fair that they take the brunt of your punishment.”

Roger’s words cut through Susan’s euphoria and she realized this wasn’t going to be easy. Linda gasped about to protest again, but Susan caught her eye and shook her head vigorously. Linda remained silent.

Roger picked up the riding crop from the coffee table and flexed it once then snapped it hard against the back of his hand. Like any new instrument he needed to assess its bite. It smarted quite nicely and he grunted with satisfaction.

“Kneel up straight girl, and hold those tits out for me.” Roger snapped at Sue.

“You’ll hold them in place; Hold them up firmly and keep your fingers out of the way. I think a dozen stripes will help to keep your mind focused.”

Linda looked on in horror and wasn’t able to control herself

“Please Roger, don’t do this! She doesn’t deserve to be punished. Really it was my fault.”

Roger turned; his grim stare silenced Linda and she shrank back. She was beginning to try his patience. Still she was his guest, and this was all very new to her so he tried to be patient and instructive.

“Susan, explain why you are being punished.” He snapped.

Susan took a deep breath. She’d endured a lot this evening, and was about to suffer a punishment she wasn’t sure she could handle. Now she had to explain it all to her friend. These next moments might actually turn out to be the most humiliating part of the whole evening. 

   “Linda, when I broke discipline, when I let my hands go and grabbed my nipples, I lost the chance to wear my collar. That was all; I’d have gotten another chance when Roger was ready to let me try again.”

Susan paused and looked over at Roger. Her next words were a confession to him and an admission of guilt to everyone there. Susan was blushing now as she haltingly continued.

“But I was greedy, Linda, I wanted the collar, and I wanted it tonight. I broke a trust. I used words that were meant to protect me; I used them to try to manipulate Roger. I was wrong. I’m sorry Roger, and I accept my punishment. It has nothing to do with you Linda.”

Susan’s face was scarlet as she finished this embarrassing confession. Even as she spoke the words she realized she had really gained nothing. Roger hadn’t promised her another chance. All she’d won by her cleaver ploy was the promise of a painful punishment. Susan wanted to squeeze her eyes shut and fade into the floor but she knelt up, holding out her breasts, bravely waiting for her husband to begin.

“So you see,” Roger said pointing the riding crop at Susan. “That is why she is going to be punished.”

He turned and pointed the crop at Linda. “Whether you need to be punished is not my call.” She shrank back from his gesture trembling with fright.

“If you want, you can watch, if not you and Steve can go in the other room. This won’t take long and I do hope you’ll stay.”

Linda looked for Steve, her eyes pleading and he came to stand beside her. He held a hand out to her but she remained on her knees and in the end he simply stood above her holding her shoulder. She must have found some comfort in that, for she snuggled back against him and reached up to hold his hand.

“We’ll stay.” Steve said tersely.

Roger addressed his next remarks to Susan.

“You aren’t being punished for trying to manipulate me, dear.” Susan looked up puzzled. Then Roger smiled at her and she knew everything would be all right.

“It’s because you were successful that you will suffer my love. Now be a brave little slut and try not to scream.”

He was truly relenting she thought. She was going to be given another chance. He would be brutal, but he was loving too. She swore to herself that she would wear his collar before this evening was through. She knew she was about to suffer as she had never suffered before. Joy and terror struggled to claim her mind. He held the tip of the riding crop out gently tracing it over the top of her breast and she bent her head to kiss the leather.

Roger raised the riding crop and Susan turned her head away. She felt the breeze, heard the whistle as it cut through the air, and then heard the sickening thwack as the leather encased rod bit into her soft flesh.

Then came the pain.

Oh God! It was worse than anything. She tried not to move. She tried to be brave. The pain was just too intense! She yelped and hopped about on her knees and started to pull away. Roger struck again quickly not giving her a chance to react. The crop slashed against her left breast five more times in rapid succession and all Susan could manage was one long scream. Then as she sobbed Roger crossed in front of her, taking his position on her right side. Without a word he gripped her shoulder firmly, pulled her up so she is kneeling straight again then raised the crop once more. She looked up at him her tear-filled eyes silently pleading and this time she saw the crop fall. The agony exploded across her breast and she wailed in anguish. He ignored her screech of pain and laid the remaining stripes on her right breast in rapid succession. The agony multiplied with each blow, but she managed not to pass out.

And then, as quickly as it started it was over. No one said a thing. Even Erika was silenced by the speed and intensity of Susan’s punishment. Susan sobbed quietly as she knelt back on her heals, her trembling hands still supporting her throbbing breasts. Roger let the crop drop onto the coffee table, turned on his heels and strode off to the dining room.

Susan watched him retreat. She wanted to call out to him. How could he do this to her? Beat her like this and then just leave. He couldn’t be that angry with her, she was sure. She stifled a groan and wiped tears from her eye. When she looked down at her breasts she knew the puffy red stripes would be there for weeks.

No one knew what to do and the other couples were becoming uncomfortable. Then Roger strode back into the room as if nothing was amiss. He carried a cloth napkin, a glass of water and a handful of dripping ice cubes.

Roger handed Susan the water and she gulped it down gratefully. He sat on the edge of the coffee table, gestured to Susan, and she slid closer. He dropped the ice cubes into the glass and set it beside himself.

 “Hands on top of your head.” He ordered, but his voice was soft and gentle.

Susan promptly obeyed him though it strained her aching breasts to be stretched taut. He pulled a lone ice cube from the glass and began to trace each new made welt. Susan shuddered and moaned aloud as the melting ice dribbled down her throbbing flesh. He used the cloth napkin to collect the droplets as they ran beneath her breasts. She was gasping from the overwhelming sensations. She bent to kiss the hand that had wielded the crop and now was busy soothing her burning flesh.

Between deep shivering breaths Susan’s eyes wandered. She studied Roger for a moment then the other men in the room. Though she tried not to stare, the tell tale bulges spoke eloquently of the lust her torment and suffering had aroused. The women were more difficult to read. Erica looked on with what seemed to be pure delight. Kim and Barbara’s reactions were more complex. They seemed to be caught up in a mixture of fear, pity, and something more, an admiration perhaps, or envy. In any event they seemed to silently speculate on the question of just how well they would fare under such treatment.

Linda’s reaction was even more wide ranging. She was sure, despite Susan’s insistence to the contrary, that she was the cause of this punishment. Linda was completely taken aback by the overwhelming speed and ferocity of Susan’s chastisement. The fact that no one else, not even Susan, seemed to object was disconcerting. It seemed to her the penalty was unjust and totally out of proportion, yet as she looked at the evidence of punishment etched upon Susan’s flesh Linda felt a strange stirring. She looked from Susan, to Roger, to Steve and then back at Susan.     

“It should have been me.” She whispered kneeling by her husband.

“It really should have been me Steven.” She insisted a bit louder.

“I was the one who caused all this. It’s not fair that Susan should be beaten for something I did.”

Linda avoided looking at Roger because at the moment she was truly terrified of his reaction. She looked instead up into her husband’s gentle face. She was near tears herself and she seemed to be pleading, but he hardly dared speculate as to what she wanted. Her grip on his arm became painfully tight as she pulled him down closer.

“Really Steve, I’m the one who should be punished.”

Steven looked into his wife’s eyes. She was trembling on her knees before him clad only in her pale green bra and panties, asking to be punished. This was the woman who for over a decade had insisted the lights be turned out before they made love.

“All right dear, if that’s what you want.”

He shook his head ruefully and pulled away from her clutching hand. Boy he was glad they decided to come to this party. He crossed to the coffee table and reached for the riding crop sitting next to Roger. Roger’s hand held it in place.

“That’s something you’d want to work up to Steve.” He said pleasantly. “I think we have a nice wooden handled hairbrush in the bathroom; Linda would you mind fetching that for Steve? It’s the second door on the left from the top of the stairs.” 

      

 

  

 

 

                                    VII

Linda took the stairs two at a time. When she reached the top, she stopped. She was panting and gasping as she leaned back against the wall, she could barely stand. Fear and excitement had tied her belly into knots and her legs trembled. She wished Steven was here holding her hand, lending her his strength, his sweet voice reassuring her. Then again, she thought, she might really want to feel his strong hand somewhere else. Maybe leading her to a chair, draping her over his lap, his hand raised and ready over her quivering backside. Perhaps she needed to hear his stern voice, scolding her for being a silly prude, for hurting Susan, or just for being a bad little girl. Linda shivered at the thought.

Then there was Roger, he’d just told her to ‘go fetch us the hairbrush’, ordering her about like she was his to command, and there was no denying that she’d jumped to obey him. He’d always seemed such a perfect gentleman, now she knew that was all a sham.

God, he was terrifying! What he’d done to Susan was just awful, yet Susan didn’t seem to care. If anything it seemed to make her adore him all the more. It was all very confusing, but Linda was sure of one thing. She knew she wanted it to be Steven, not Roger, who dealt out her punishment.

Even as that thought crossed her mind, Linda realized she really did want to be punished. No, maybe it wasn’t that exactly, maybe what she wanted was to experience being punished. She was sure she would hate the pain and the embarrassment; she was equally sure that she deserved it. A small part of her might even crave it. Right there in front of everyone, the humiliation and shame adding to her pain as she was forced to present her bottom for a brisk paddling at the hands of her lover. The very thought of it was making her hot. It made no sense but it was all too real. The damp spot on her panties attested to that.

Linda pushed herself away from the wall and headed down the hall on shaky legs. She found the bathroom with no problem and there, sitting on the back of the vanity was a wooden hairbrush. She stared at it for a long moment before reaching out to pick it up. Absently, she plucked a few stray hairs from the bristles then turned it over. The polished wood gleamed wickedly. Had Susan ever felt it on her bottom? The handle was about six inches long smooth and rounded slightly to fit snugly in ones hand. The back of the brush was oval, creating a smooth hard paddle some eight inches long and maybe three inches wide at its widest point.

It was made of a dark polished wood. It rested in her hand so naturally she could hardly think of how Steven planned to use it. Linda looked at herself in the mirror, frightened, tearful, half dressed, and holding a hairbrush at arm’s length as if it were some dangerous animal intent on biting her.

Linda smiled at herself and shook her head. She ran the brush through her hair for a few strokes, just to reassure herself that life could be normal again and sometimes a hairbrush would still be used for brushing hair.

Linda looked into the mirror once more, rubbed a stray tear from her cheek and turned toward the door. It took more courage than she felt she possessed to take that first step, the second was easier. Before she knew it she was headed toward the staircase. She walked with the slow deliberate pace of the condemned; the brush now held behind her back, as she started down the stairs.

They all looked up at her when she appeared at the top of the stairway and it was all she could do to keep going. Linda’s eyes swept the group gathered at the base of the stairs looking for Steven. He was standing between Richard and the kneeling Susan, out in the center of the room. The men were both intent on their own conversation and neither had looked up when she made her reappearance. Her legs were wobbly as she descended those last few steps; she noticed someone had brought a straight-back chair in from the dining room and set it down next to Steven.

Linda moved through the gathering as if in a dream. She headed toward her husband with her eyes downcast and her thumping pulse hammering in her ears, drowning out all other sound. The guests parted and watched her pass. If any spoke to her, offering encouragement, or maybe a warning, it was lost to her. Linda’s thoughts were elsewhere, she was numb to what was happening around her. She startled when a hand grasped her arm and pulled her to the right, toward the couch.

It was Roger! He’d wrenched her off her path. He was dragging her away from Steven! She began to struggle until she saw her husband was already next to her, holding her other arm, trying to pry the wooden hairbrush from her clenched fingers. Linda took a deep breath and released her grip. Roger was speaking but she didn’t want to hear him. It was Steven’s voice she longed for.

“Lean forward darling and put your hands down on the couch.”

Oh God, it was her husband, her mild mannered Steven, and he was placing her in position for a humiliating and very public ordeal. She bent forward taking her weight on her arms feeling more vulnerable than she’d felt since her daddy had last used a wooden ruler on her bottom when she was 10.

And then Roger was intruding again, his voice forcing itself on her.

“You don’t need to do this Linda.”

What did he know about her needs? This was between her and Steven, Roger had said so himself. It was something that should have happened long ago, she knew that now. She was going to see that it happened now and Roger would just have to deal with that. This was her gift to Steven and whatever Roger felt he needed to say wasn’t going to affect her one way or the other.

“Steven isn’t going to do anything unless he knows you’re OK with it. You’ll need to say so. Say it now, Linda, loud enough so we can all hear it. You know, there’s no shame in backing out; everyone will understand. WE need to know that you really want to do this or it isn’t going to happen.”

   Linda clenched her eyes closed. The bastard was going to make her beg for it. Well she’d show him. She was ready for this and nothing he said would stop her. But raw courage wasn’t enough to stop her from blushing bright red. Her voice quavered as she said the words.

“Please, Steven, take that hair brush and use it on my bottom. If anyone deserves it, I do!”

There! She’d said it. No one would doubt her courage now. She looked over her shoulder at Susan, who knelt silently with her hands still on top of her head, her elbows jutting out to the sides. As Linda watched, Susan’s lips formed a kiss which was silently sent across the room. Linda didn’t dare to look at the others.

 Linda turned back to the couch and leaned forward willing her suddenly weak arms to support her leaning body. She clenched her eyes shut. Someone grabbed her hips and her body jerked at the touch. Her eyes snapped open and her head swung around to identify her assailant. It was Steven, not Roger. She felt a moment of relief. She gazed at Steven, marveling at the sudden transformation that had taken place in her gentle patient husband. He was pulling her hips back forcing her head lower and raising her bottom higher so it swayed obscenely toward the gawking spectators.

Her thoughts and feelings became all the more confused as his hands wandered. She felt him gently stroke her belly, her hips and her upper thighs. One hand began to rub in insistent little circles over her taut ass cheeks, as if he were trying to smooth her panties. Linda whimpered and her hips began to rotate in counterpoint to his motion.

Without warning two thumbs slipped inside her waistband. Linda opened her mouth to protest but it was already too late. Before she could utter a sound, her bottom was laid bare for all to see. Steven pushed her panties down to her knees, and she desperately squeezed her legs together trying to stop the descent.

“Open!”

Steven spoke the simple one word command with an absolute authority that she never suspected her husband possessed. Her legs responded, even before she could think. Her knees parted and allowed her underwear to slip a little further down her legs. Linda quickly stepped out of them. She understood what he wanted and obeyed without any further instructions. Steven used the hairbrush to nudge her knees open a little wider, and then ran the wooden brush up along her inner thighs. Linda squirmed in place, bent at the waist, with her feet about two feet apart. Her bottom was stuck up in the air and she could feel the cool air on her very damp and exposed sex. Linda knew everyone in the room was staring at her most private parts and her face turned a brighter shade of crimson.

“You probably want to start off slow and easy Steven. Just let her warm up to the idea at first, then you can let her feel it, if that’s what you want.”

It was Roger, that fountain of unsolicited advice; Linda wished he would just shut up so Steven could get this over with.

“Sure, thanks, this is pretty new to us, but I think I can handle it. I’ll just position myself off to the side so I can get a decent swing and everyone else will have a great view.”

Steven sounded as excited as a ten year old on Christmas morning. She felt his left arm wrap around her waist. She knew what was coming but had no idea how she’d react. She was already mortified, just being exposed in this position, but things were about to get far worse, and yet she was impatient for it to begin.

She flinched when Steven rested the wooden brush on her quivering ass cheek. He stroked the cool wood across her bottom in a circular motion and she gasped. Then the brush was pulled away and she braced herself. The little paddle smacked down and her hips jerked, Steven arm around her waist held her in place while the other rose and fell. He seemed to be following Roger’s suggestion for each individual slap wasn’t terribly painful but the cumulative effect was a slowly building burning that was radiating heat in every direction. Linda’s face flushed deeply as she felt a pleasant warmth growing deep inside her. What kind of woman would enjoy this?

Linda had yet to cry out in pain. While Steven had her waist held in place, her bottom was waggling. He followed a pattern spreading his blows around the periphery of her ass cheeks. She could imagine the sight she provided and even with that thought she could feel her sex lips thickening and opening. Moisture seeped from her parting lips and the sight was not lost on the onlookers.

“Just like a couple of love birds. Though I must say, it looks like Ms. ‘Prim and Proper’ is as big a slut as the rest.” Erica offered loudly.

Linda was beyond caring, but the jibe seemed to affect Steven. He started to hone in on the fleshier center of her bottom slamming the hairbrush down with increased power and at last Linda did cry out in pain. This was going well beyond pleasant warmth and plunging into real punishment. Tears gathered and she yelped with each new blow but even then the irrational warmth was still building deep in her sex. She was on fire from within. Steven was slapping down on her bottom at a furious pace. It seemed to mimic the tempo that he built to when he was plunging into her, just before his orgasm. That image set her mind afire and the heat building deep in her cunt began to surge.  Her mind used the “C” word, a word she had never used aloud before. It felt like the only proper word to use and she allowed it to roll off her lips.

Steven was beating down on her bottom in a rapid staccato and her yelps had turned into a most extraordinary chant.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” she yelped each time the hairbrush smacked down. It might have been an expression of pain or a plea for release. Linda couldn’t say which, but it was another word she’d never used until tonight.

It took Steven a moment to understand what she was saying, and a few more moments to slow down from the shellacking he was cheerfully administering to her glowing bottom.

Linda was just full of surprises tonight.

Steven slowed and stopped and Linda’s mantra came to an end. They both were breathless and a little stunned by their separate reactions. Steven reversed his grip on the hairbrush and traced her parted nether lips with the handle teasing them open still further. Linda’s hips pressed back hungrily. Steven pulled the brush away and then used it to tap lightly against her sex. Linda groaned and her bottom lurched back trying to follow after the hairbrush. Steven gave her a few more experimental swats and her hips jerked and twitched, but she was definitely trying to rub herself against the handle. She was quickly approaching a shuddering and very public orgasm. Steven pulled the hairbrush away and Linda groaned. 

Linda’s legs were trembling as her hips humped back at the empty air as she cried out in frustration. She was oblivious to what the others were saying. Erica harshly mocked her discarded dignity while the others were joking and teasing in a more good-natured manner. Roger was grinning, but refrained from the general teasing. Susan, on her knees, remained silent, grateful, perhaps to be out of the spotlight for now.

Steven was shocked by Linda’s obvious loss of control. She was not behaving at all like the wife he knew so well. Linda could tell by his painful grip on her shoulder that he had every intention of bringing her back under control. He dropped down onto the couch and roughly pulled her across his lap.

 “Now I’m gonna really punish you, just like you asked for.” He warned her.  

Linda’s breath was forced out in a whoosh as she landed across his legs. Her head and shoulders fell to his left, her legs dangling off to his right. He gathered her wrists together in his left hand and forced them down against the small of her back as she fought to inhale. Her neck and shoulders were pressed awkwardly against the couch and her breasts were trapped just past his left leg. Linda struggled to turn her head and managed to face away from the onlookers, toward the back of the couch. She was surprised to find that Steven had discarded the hair brush which now lay on the couch the bristles sticking up mere inches from her nose.

She felt trapped; it was all she could do to keep her legs still. Steven rubbed his hand across her smarting bottom feeling the warmth he had generated from her paddling. Some of the warm sensuality was returning to her. Linda tried to remain still. She could feel his hardness pressing eagerly against her belly. Her hips were resting a few inches from his solid right thigh and the touch of his hand was making her squirm forward. Linda flinched when he pulled his hand away.

“You ready?” he barked a fraction of a second before his hand smacked down heavily on her already bruised bottom. The sound was enormous! His hand was larger than the hairbrush, and she sensed an unreasoned anger that propelled him.

Linda cried out with the first blow. Her body lurched forward across his lap. He used his knees to rock her back into place and the next slap landed squarely on her curved cheeks. Steven was attacking her bottom with a firm purpose and it had nothing to do with sensual warmth. Linda shrieked as his knees rocked her back for the third smack. All thoughts of sexual release fled as the pain just grew and grew.

He continued without mercy. Her body was driven forward by his smacking hand then rocked back into place on his knees. The spanking continued at a barely controlled pace. It was much worse than what had happened before. Steven was deliberately trying to hurt her! The blows continued to rain down and neither of them was keeping track.

Heat was building within her. It wasn’t sexual; it was much more primal than that. The shrieks built with her pain until she could stand it no more. Something let go deep within her and she experienced a very different form of release. Linda began to cry uncontrollably.

Steven knew, almost instinctively, that they had reached a plateau. He stopped slapping and once more was gently rubbing her bottom. Linda let all her emotions pour out as she sobbed without restraint. The others, forgotten by them both, looked on in silent awe.

Steven turned her over in his lap. He could feel the heat from her bottom through his pants. He cradled her in his arms pulling her tight against his chest and rocking gently while she sobbed on his shoulder. Eventually the racking sobs lessened. Linda pushed back slightly; she turned to face him blinking back tears, and shyly kiss her husband’s lips. Then they were both hungrily kissing each other without thought or hesitation. Steven was the first to come up for air.

He stood, half lifting her, but Linda deliberately fell to her knees beside him. Steven turned toward Roger, unsure of what to say. Linda said it for him.

She held Steven’s hand as she looked into Roger’s eyes. A communion of understanding passed between them.

“Please sir.” were all the words she needed.

Roger understood completely.

“The guest room is upstairs, all the way down the hall.”

Once again Linda took the stairs two at a time. This time Steven followed eagerly behind her.

 

                                                                                         VIII

    Roger glanced down at his watch as Linda and Steve disappeared up the stairs.

    “You’ve got just about a half hour till the ball drops.” He yelled up after, them but they didn’t bother to respond.

    That was Susan’s first hint of just how long the party had been going on. She only needed to endure another half hour and she’d have satisfied Roger’s conditions. Susan was that close to donning the collar he had presented her with. She felt jubilant even as she struggled to suppress a grin. It was Susan’s goal to become worthy to wear his gift; that was the privilege she was willing to struggle toward.

    Some might think that a strange ambition for a modern woman. She didn’t feel any need to explain herself; the simple desire was enough for her. One need only consider how she had spent these last few hours of ‘freedom’.

    Susan imagined there would be at least one more real test for her. The canning of her breasts was certainly not something Roger had originally planned on. He must have originally had something else in mind. Perhaps the test, when she passed it, would be followed by some brief ritual before he snapped the collar around her neck. Roger did like a bit of pomp and ceremony. She was pretty sure he wasn’t going to fuck her until she wore his collar. Unless of course she had already blown that, a flicker of doubt gnawed at her momentarily. If he wasn’t going to allow her the collar tonight then he might just take her anytime.

    Kim and Barbra had headed into the dining room to get some munchies. Roger looked down at Susan; she looked a bit haggard. Susan wore her tired smile with a complacent ease. He smiled at the sight of her.

    “Hungry dear?” he asked cheerfully.  

    Susan suddenly realized just how ravenous she was and nodded eagerly. Roger left her to follow the other two women into the dining room. Kim and Barbara were standing over the cold cuts platters, selecting deli breads, and condiments as they made up sandwiches for their men. There were still a number of hors d'oeuvres and a few deserts left on the table so Roger made up a plate for Susan. He selected several of the crab rangoons, and the last two smoked salmon canapés on pumpernickel rounds, to complete her snack he added a few of the strawberries dipped in dark chocolate. He remembered to pour her another glass of wine; a Pinot Grigio would best complement the taste of salmon and semen he decided with a satisfied smirk.

    While Roger was off getting her some food, Erica used the moment to shift closer to Susan and strike up a conversation. Erica wanted to explore some of the possibilities that had been gnawing at the back of her mind since her first glimpse of Susan, kneeling, naked and freely submitting herself to her husband’s whims. Susan had worked for Erica nearly three years now and had never once hinted that she was so inclined. Now a number of interesting scenarios were running through Erica’s mind and high on the list was a good spanking for being so secretive about her true nature. Of course, this was neither the time nor the place to bring that up; there would be plenty of opportunities at work on Monday. Erica saw no need to complicate matters by involving Roger.

    “It’s too bad Linda took off on you. Now you’ll never get a chance to taste that priggish little pussy of hers.”

    Erica words were as harsh as ever, but her tone was sweeter than saccharine. Susan was at a loss. It seemed as if Erica wanted to engage in idle chatter, but Susan had no witty comeback for the woman’s sharp tongue. More to the point, when one is kneeling naked before a fully clothed party guest, trying to earn one’s collar from a demanding husband, one doesn't venture into clever verbal repartee with the guests.

    To top it all off, Erica was beginning to scare Susan just a little. She dreaded the thought of returning to work under her on Monday. While Susan had been too busy to worry about what this evening might mean to her boss, it didn’t take a vivid imagination to follow where Erica’s thoughts might be headed. In the end Susan said nothing. She lowered her head submissively and waited for Erica to continue.

    “Now I know I said Matty couldn’t get his blow job until you’d taken care of everyone else, but what the hell, it’s a party. He’s been such a good boy so I think I might relent this once.”

    Susan raised her eyes slightly and noted that Erica had Mathew in tow. She had a firm grip on his very erect cock and was pulling him forward by it.

    “You wouldn’t mind now, would you dear?” Erica was addressing Susan, not Mathew, who would obviously do as he was told.

    “No Ma’am.” Susan mumbled listlessly.

    She glanced toward the dining room, hoping Roger would come and rescue her. She wasn’t exactly sure what she expected him to do. Susan was fairly confident he would want her to treat Mathew like any other guest this evening, but she still felt the need to have him there giving his consent. Erica noticed the momentary hesitation and misunderstood. She felt certain that the idea of sucking on a submissive man’s cock was what Susan was balking at. Erica felt that it was an immense humiliation to be forced to service another woman’s submissive. She was sure this was what caused Susan’s hesitation, and that thought seemed to buoy Erica’s mood. She pushed Mathew forward until his belly was nearly pressing against Susan’s nose.

    Erica was wrong, of course. Susan had nothing against Mathew; in fact the two of them were nearly kindred spirits. They were both submissive by nature and at the moment both were laboring to please Erica. Mathew had arguably treated her far better than anyone here tonight, including her own husband. She was more than ready to return the favor. Susan only wished for Roger’s blessing before she began.

    None of the three noticed when Roger reentered the room. He stood at the doorway, plate and glass in hand, following the verbal exchange. He turned toward the fireplace, set the wine glass on the mantle, and picked up a remote. Turning back toward the threesome he clicked twice and a 60 inch plasma screen came to life on the far wall. Erica jumped guiltily as the sounds of Times Square bloomed from half the dozen speakers scattered around the room. Roger nodded to the three of them as he adjusted the volume down.

    “I was just about to feed her, Erica,’” Roger said, picking up the wine glass and gesturing toward Susan with the laden plate.

    “But if Mathew’s in a hurry we can wait until he’s done.”

    “Err, sorry, I, well, hum, I should have asked, I suppose. You don’t mind do you?” Erica asked.

    “Nonsense, go right ahead, she’s here for everyone’s enjoyment tonight. Besides I think he’s a little sweet on her.”

    Roger smiled wickedly and Erica visibly cringed at those words. Roger set the food and wine down on the coffee table and stood by Susan’s side. Mathew, in front of her, was looking down to avoid Roger’s eyes but that left him staring at Susan’s breasts, each decorated with half a dozen darkening stripes. Roger took Mathew’s right hand and cupped it under Susan’s left breast.

    “She really loves it when you stroke her nipples Matt.” Roger confided, “When they start to swell she likes to have them rolled and pinched. Of course, between the clamps and crop tonight, she may be a little more sensitive than usual. Still, I’m sure if you start off gently she’ll be coming for you in no time.”

    Mathew pulled his gaze away from Susan’s breasts and looked up. Roger was smiling broadly. Susan was shocked that he would share such intimate details about her body’s responsiveness with a stranger. Anger, betrayal, and indignation all bubbled up in her mind, but they were soon fighting with embarrassment as her nipple promptly began to swell from just the warmth of Mathew’s touch.

    Mathew stroked lightly and Susan’s nipple tightened and hardened under his gentle caress. He took her right nipple in his other hand. Susan felt a pulse of pure pleasure course from her aching breasts straight down through her belly and her faithless pussy moistened in response.

    Damn Roger! How could he do this to her? Susan felt doubly betrayed first by her lover and then by her own, all too responsive, body. She squirmed hopelessly as the new sensations provoked fresh misery and the soggy, knotted, hemp chaffed against the swelling lips of her sex. An involuntary moan was wrung from her and her hips quivered reflexively.      

     Roger ran his fingers through her hair brushing back her hands that were entwined together resting atop her head. He gently pushed them back and down so her hands ended up clasped together behind her neck. This new position pulled her shoulders further back; forcing her to push her breasts out further. Mathew grinned, his stroking fingers caressing her. Roger was forcing her body to act the part of a shameless slut and a tear trickled down her cheek. She could only imagine what must be passing through Mathews mind.

Erica, inflamed by the sight of Susan's single tear, was impatient to witness her further humiliation.  Erica's hands moved from Matthew's cock to his buttocks and pressed him forward. His erection lewdly jutted out before him as he was forced toward Susan.  His throbbing penis slid under her chin and thumped beneath her clenched jaws.  A sticky droplet painted the hollow of her neck.

    “Come on, luv; show him how much you appreciate it.” Roger urged. “I’m counting on you now.”

    Anger, resignation, and desire all simmered in an emotional stew as she heard her lover’s command. It was a test, another damn test.

    She would obey, of course. Did he really doubt it? Probably not; but this time she would give him a little more than he bargained for. Erica was urging Mathew forward, anticipating Susan’s further degradation; Susan had decided to take some control over the situation that was being forced on the two of them.

    Susan lowered her head twisting beneath Mathew’s throbbing cock. Her tongue came up behind his scrotal sac. He actually whimpered Eric’s name as Susan’s tongue stroked the flesh between his sac and anus.

    He was hairless, without even a trace of stubble; Erica must have used a depilatory or wax on him. Such smoothness was a unique sensation for Susan. She reveled in the texture as she pulled her tongue forward across the center of his scrotum. Susan used her head to trap his penis against his belly. As her tongue ascended his cock slid along the center of her forehead and trailed down the bridge of her nose. He left a trail of moisture clinging to her face. She shook her head slightly back and forth rolling the trapped rod against her face and eliciting another helpless groan from Mathew.

    Susan rose up on her knees. She leaned her head back allowing his penis to slip lower on her chin. Susan opened her mouth and plunged down along its length. Mathew was panting by now with his eyes screwed shut. The expression on his face could have been agony or ecstasy as he bit into his lip to stifle his cry of desire.

    Erica looked on with shock and disgust.

    “Stop that! What kind of degenerate slut would? Damn it Mathew!! Don’t you dare cum!” Erica’s voice had an almost hysterical edge to it as she yelled out her commands.

    Roger knew exactly what Susan was up to. She had decided to turn the tables on her tormentors. Susan was intent on irritating Mathew’s Mistress with an open display of lust.  Her lips encased the fleshy rod as her head ran up and down its length in slow deliberate strokes. She looked up coyly into Mathew’s eyes as he took her head into his hands. He knew he should push her away, or at the very least hold her still, but all he could do was hold on. She continued to suck him deep into her throat and then allow his slow, but never complete, withdrawal. Every man in the room looked on with growing envy. Whether it was her intent or not Susan had managed to seduce the others by her overtly subservient worship of another man’s cock. Roger was not immune but he had only himself to blame. He’d given the order and she was faithfully obeying.

    “Make the fucking bitch stop this instant.” Erica demanded.

    Roger’s gaze snapped to Erica’s voice. She turned toward Roger expecting some supportive response, but his cold expression made Erica look away. His anger made no sense. This was supposed to be about shame and humiliation but those two were simply enjoying the situation far too much. Surely even Roger could understand that.

    “Lighten up Erica; It’s a party, let them play for a while.” Roger admonished.

    His harsh stare softened with an effort as he turned away from Erica’s lowered eyes. He returned to the more pleasant view of Susan and Mathew.

    “He won’t cum, I won’t allow it.”

    “He’ll cum.” Roger said confidently’ “How long has it been anyway?”

    “A week, maybe ten days,” Erica answered after a moment’s calculation. “But he won’t cum without my permission. He’s too well trained; not like her, you’ll see.”

    She looked defiantly at Roger and saw the open skepticism in his face.

    “A wager then, she can’t make him cum. When she fails I can have her for two weeks. I’ll return her properly trained. You’ll see.”

    The idea had been percolating in Erica’s mind, the words just poured out without thought. It just seemed like too good an opportunity to pass up. All Roger could say was either yes or no.

     

    “That’s not going to happen, Erica.” Roger said with a shake of his head. “Susan is mine and I don’t just lend her out to someone unless I know them and trust them completely. Besides what would you have to offer should you lose the bet?”

    Erica hadn’t really thought it through and was a little too distracted to come up with a coherent answer. She looked at the two submissives, both straining to obey their conflicting orders. Then she glanced at Roger and shook her head. She noticed Roger was now studying her as no man should dared to. He was looking her up and down, appraising her as a woman for the first time this evening. She normally found such masculine attention presumptuous and obnoxious, but from Roger it had a different, slightly dangerous, edge that was palpably enticing. Their eyes locked and this time Erica held his gaze. They were both silent for a timeless moment. Roger broke the silence.

    “Susan, stop!” he ordered, and Susan froze, her lips wrapped half way down Mathew’s shaft.

    “She’ll have five minutes to bring him off. If she can’t do it you can use the riding crop on her bottom to ring in the New Year. Ten strokes and no blood, Agreed?”

    Erica heard the offer and was more than willing to place her faith in Mathew’s self-discipline. The chance to smack Susan’s pert little butt with a crop was already making her moist. Not only would it show the little brat her place, it would teach Roger some manners as well. Still, Roger had mentioned only half a wager and without some risk on her part it couldn’t really be called a bet.

    “And if she succeeds? What am I risking?” Erica asked.

    “If Mathew cums before the time is up you’re not punish him,” Roger stated “and you’ll be the one to clean Susan up this time.” He added with an evil grin.

    Erica flushed with anger. Roger’s words weren’t overly specific but the implied humiliation was obvious as she tried to imagine herself cleaning her husband’s leavings from the little slut’s face. Her hands shook involuntarily at the thought. Still she was confident Mathew wouldn’t fail her; it was just five minutes.

    “All right we’re agreed then.” Erica said at last. She held out her hand to seal the bet with a handshake. Roger looked at her as if perplexed for a moment then clasped her hand in a perfunctory manner and turned back toward Susan again.

    Susan had remained motionless, her lips wrapped around Mathews erection, applying just enough suction to keep him at attention without wringing any more whimpers from him. She had followed the conversation and was quite pleased with the outcome. Mathew was putty in her hands. The idea of that proud bitch Erica being forced to clean Susan’s face was just delicious. Susan just hoped she would be forced to use her tongue, which would only be fair.

    Susan knew she and Roger were on the same page now and she took comfort in that.

    “Go ahead Sue, nice and slow so he can enjoy every moment of it.”

    With Roger’s command Susan’s lips tightened and began a long slow decent to the very base of Mathew’s cock. She nearly gagged as it pushed against the back of her throat but she swallowed reflexively as her tongue stroked feverishly along the length of the thick shaft. Mathew’s legs were trembling as he groaned.

    Susan took the time to glance over at Erica as she lifted her head up slowly allowing the cock to slide inch by inch from her mouth until only the tip of his penis was still captive. Erica watched with a distinct agitation her fingers nervously twisting her skirt hem as she berated her husband. Others had begun to gather around to watch the performance. They were free with their advice and comments.

    “Ten bucks says he’ll be spurtin out her ears before time’s up.”

    Sam waved a bill in the air but there were no takers. It was obvious no one thought Mathew would last.

    Barbra was of the opinion that Mathew might hold out for at least two minutes. She offered to risk her own bottom on that wager and Joe placed a bill down to cover that action.  

    “Win or lose, dear, I’ll win.” She smiled devilishly.  

    Erica wasn’t showing too much confidence either.

    “Don’t you dare Matty! I’m counting on you. Think of something else you dirty little boy. Don’t let that slut get the better of you.” She shouted.

    Poor Mathew was being truly tormented. Of course he wanted, needed really, to please Erica. He dedicated his life to that very task, and yet he was human, a male, and had gone nearly two weeks without an orgasm.

    Susan may have started the evening with an oral skill that bordered on amateurish but she was a quick study. She was determined and confident and had her husband’s blessing. Mathew didn’t have a prayer; it was only a matter of time.

    “Three more minutes.” Sam chimed in helpfully.

    Barbra snatched her winnings from Joe, turned and wiggled her butt provocatively in an ill advised victory dance. She gave a playful shriek when Joe grabbed her by the shoulders and wrestled her down to her knees.

    Susan’s lips caressed poor Mathew with an unhurried confidence. He had a painful grip on her hair but still was unable or unwilling to push her away. His legs had ceased to tremble but he was up on his tiptoes and his hips were twitching spasmodically.

    Erica continued to shout demands at him, but a thin sheen of sweat now covered her face and her voice was growing hoarse. The other couples were looking at her with pity, which made it so much worse. Even she could see the inevitable bearing down on her as Susan picked up the pace of her oral ministrations.

    “Slow down Susan!”

    She heard the words but was lost in her task.

    “Susan!” Roger barked harshly.

    This time Susan heard and obeyed. She glanced over and saw her master watching intently. Erica was looking on with a touch of panic in her eye; she realized this was a bet she’d already lost. Most of the others were simply grinning at the lewd spectacle; although Joe had Barbara on her knees and she was doing her best to imitate Susan’s every move. 

    Roger must have wanted to prolong Erica’s suffering but at this point it didn’t matter. Though Susan slowed her strokes, Mathew had a firm grip on her head and was humping away with abandon. Susan could already taste the salty flavor of what was to come.

    “Sixty seconds” Sam informed the crowd.

    Susan looked to Roger, waiting for a signal. She could finish Mathew with a few quick strokes.

    “Stop!”

    At first she thought it was Erica’s order. Indeed Mathew released his grip on her hair and dropped back down on his heels partially withdrawing from her mouth. Susan’s lips followed him down.

    “Susan.”

    His voice was low but full of authority. It made no sense. She’d won the stupid bet for him, why would he throw it all away now? Still the voice, the tone, she had no choice but to obey. Her head came to a complete standstill, her lips holding loosely onto Mathews throbbing penis. The two of them became frozen statues caught in the most intimate of kisses. 

    “Fifteen seconds.”

    Neither one of them dared move. It wasn’t fair! She’d won by right, and was now being forced to throw the game away. She knew without looking that Erica had a triumphant smirk on her face. Susan just wanted to cry.

    “Time’s up.”

    The unexpected ending brought a murmur of surprise from the crowd.

    “Finish him.” Roger ordered.

    Erica was too thrilled with the unexpected outcome to bother interfering. Susan resumed; her lips sliding down Mathew’s fleshy rod. Her head had only bobbed up and down twice before ten days worth of denial gushed into her mouth. She fought to keep up, swallowing as fast as she could but the load was too much. When he was finished Mathew shyly pulled away.

     Erica seemed almost giddy as she tousled Mathew’s hair and praised him for his self restraint.

    Roger sat at the coffee table and gestured for Susan to approach. She hobbled forward on her knees. He took a damp cloth and wiped her mouth and chin before offering her a sip of wine. More than anything she wanted to ask ‘Why?’ but he silenced her with a finger laid gently across her lips.

    He fed her by hand and she nibbled mechanically on the tidbits chosen for her. The food seemed tasteless the wine, sour, as troubled thoughts roiled her mind. How could he? Why would he? Susan needed the answers but dared not ask.

    Her expression must have spoken for her and Roger decided to answer her; in his own manner.

    “Mathew was allowed to cum, and he won’t be punished for it.”

    A silent pause while Susan digested that answer.

    “Erica won’t spend the weekend dreaming about what she’d like to do to your bottom come Monday morning. You were going to feel the crop tonight anyway. Now, she’ll go home with a big smile on her face.” 

    Another pause, though Susan’s anger was beginning to melt. He was right of course. He usually was.

    “And Linda is going to become an avid friend of yours. Be gentle and instructive with that one, dear. I think she really admires you.”

    Roger bent and kissed her forehead, “as do I.” he added.  

        

                                 IX

    The mere brush of his lips against her forehead was pure bliss for Susan. He had warned her about pride, but his words stirred that very sentiment in her soul. Roger pulled his lips away and brought the wine glass to her mouth. Susan sipped, and relished the clean light taste with the delicate aroma, just a hint of honey as an aftertaste. Her tongue ran across her lips; savoring the last traces of Mathew’s salty offering, she smiled.

    Roger dangled a strawberry before her and she playfully nipped at it. He was what she really wanted; to taste him, to feel him thick and heavy, stretching her lips, forcing himself into her, deeply and fully. Then she would be his, his to use however he wished. She would be opened, desired and adored by his thrusting cock in every imaginable way.

    That time wasn’t here yet.

    Bits of hard chocolate coating fell away as her teeth sank into the firm red fruit. Roger lowered his head, lips seeking her breasts which she eagerly thrust toward him. His darting tongue retrieved a few of those dark morsels then he tenderly licked her throbbing nipples.

    Susan was floating.           

    Others were gathering around the big screen. The noisy crowd in Times Square was getting restless as the witching hour approached. The TV camera kept flashing on the crystal ball high on top of its pole. Sam had opened a bottle of Moet Chandon White Star ’99 and was busy filling champagne flutes.

    Linda and Steven returned from the guestroom. They descended the staircase, fervently clasping each other’s hands like a pair of love sick teens. Linda was oblivious to her nudity. Her entire body was flushed and glowing from her recent exertions. Her eyes never left Steven and a sense of overwhelming contentment seeped from her every pore.

   

    Roger and Susan studied the young couple and then turned to each other. Roger planted a hungry kiss on her juice stained lips before holding out the last strawberry for her. Susan curled her tongue around it drawing it toward her waiting lips. Her eyes never left her lover as she sucked the fruit into her mouth.

     With nine glasses poured Sam began passing out the champagne flutes for the New Years toast. He brought one over to Erica who was hovering close to Roger and Susan. She set it on the coffee table and Sam set Rogers’s glass next to it. He’d not poured a glass for Susan. Her status was distinct; if she was to toast the New Year it would be from Roger’s own cup.

    Roger and Susan were engaged in a playful tug of war. He hung onto the strawberry’s leafy stem pulling it slowly from her mouth and then allowing her to suck it back in. Her eyes sparkled merrily as the hard chocolate shell dissolved between her lips. Finally, Roger pinched the leafy top off and released the juicy prize into her mouth. Susan munched contentedly then swallowed.

    “You need to get her ready.” Erica interrupted, “I won fair and square and I’m allowed to smack her ass before midnight. Ten strokes, with the crop, you said so.”

    Roger looked up, annoyed that their moment had been disturbed, but nothing disturbed Susan’s blissful smile, focused entirely on her lover Erica tried to stare defiantly into Rogers’s cold gaze but she said no more. Then Roger smiled and Erica relaxed visibly.

    “Of course Erica, We have an agreement. Ten strokes on her bottom, right.”

    Erica nodded eagerly, reaching for the riding crop she had brought to the party. Roger’s hand closed over the whip’s lower shaft, by the leather tongue. For a moment they both held the implement as if prepared to test each other’s resolve.

    “She’s mine Erica; remember that. Yes, I know she needs to feel pain; all women do.”

    Roger spoke the last three words softly, almost reverently. It was an intimate thought, briefly shared, between the three of them. He shook his head to dismiss that tender notion and turned his cool gaze back to Erica.

    “But draw no blood Erica, or there will be grave consequences.”  

He spoke this last part slowly, enunciating each word carefully, his voice firm and insistent once more.

    That brief glimpse into Rogers’s private beliefs affected Erica far more than his challenging tone. She was a shade paler as she gathered up her courage. She looked straight into his eyes and she nodded her understanding. Roger released his hold on the crop.

    Erica stepped back and to Susan’s right. The prize that she had won was now a task he’d assigned to her. The joyous opportunity to put a squirming little slut in her place had been transformed into a solemn duty with just a few terse words and a meaningful glance. Erica shook her head and grinned. As a Dominatrix, she couldn’t help but admire Roger’s ability to take control of the situation.

    She held the crop loosely at her side and nodded her readiness toward Susan’s master.

  The crowded square on the big screen was abuzz with excitement. The giant crystal ball erupted into a flash of dazzling light atop its pole. The New Years Eve Ball had come to life and there was barely a minute left of the old year. Erica was right. It was time to prepare Suzan.

    Susan was still kneeling with her hands joined behind her neck, her elbows sticking awkwardly out. She watched wide eyed and fearful as Roger produced his knife and slide the shiny blade between her thrusting breasts. He traced the blade slowly down across the quivering flesh of her belly until it slipped beneath the hemp belt. The blade jerked as Roger gave it a sharp twist. It was all Susan could do not to look down. The passage of the cold metal against warm skin felt like flowing liquid and she could almost feel the blood oozing along its path. Her trust struggled briefly with her fear; trust won. She kept her eyes on Roger.

    A murmur ran through the guests as they turned away from the big screen. The rope that had protected, frustrated, and marked her temporary status, dropped to the ground without ceremony. She was completely naked before them all.

    The counter beneath the crystal ball began its backward run. The seconds ticked away as the glitzy orb began its steady descent.

    Roger grasped Susan by her shoulder and helped her to her feet. He pulled her head toward him and so she needed to lean forward, supported by resting her head on his shoulder. Her feet scuttled apart to keep her balance. They turned together as one, until Roger faced away from the TV screen, though Susan could see it over his shoulder. Erica moved with them to maintain her position behind Susan.

    “Wrap your hands around me.”

    She had exercised the discipline he required throughout the evening. When she had briefly failed him, he had punished her severely. Now, with just seconds left, he was telling her to abandon her task. Her hesitation was barely perceptible. She threw her liberated arms around his shoulders with a sob. His left knee moved forward nudging her hips back toward Erica, spreading her legs at the same time. She knew he desired her open and vulnerable and she readily complied. His arms wrapped around her, holding her tight and she sighed.   

    She watched the giant counter tick off the remaining seconds; 25,24,23…

    Had she failed him? Absolutely! Was the evening over? Not yet, her mind filled with the image of Erica standing behind her eager with anticipation. Did she deserve it? The crop, of course; it didn’t matter how she’d earned it, the pain would be a gift- a gift for him. What of the collar? A smile flickered as she realized the collar she craved was nothing, only a symbol of what was. It was of no real consequence.

    She had changed this evening. No, that wasn’t quite it. She had been changed this evening. She had allowed it, accepted it, even embraced it as best she could; but it was he who had actually changed her. That alone was worth more than all the silver collars in the world. She knew on a fundamental level that he would always cherish what he was creating.

    Damn him and all his warnings, she was proud to be his! She would gladly suffer the consequences of that pride.

    He lowered his head, lips nestled by her ear. A tongue raspy as kitten’s stroking her ear lobe.

    “I love you.” they both whispered in unison.

    The crowd in New York was chanting now “thirteen, twelve, eleven…”        

    Her friends joined in shouting out

    “Ten!”

    “Will,” Roger began.

    The crop cut noiselessly through the air and lashed cruelly against her bottom. It struck at the very top, right where her ass began to curve away from her back. Susan gasped and jerked in his arms reflexively. Erica grunted from the effort of the blow. The sharp pain sliced across her cheeks and through her mind. The softer prickling tingle that radiated deep into her flesh made her whole bottom shiver. All eyes had left the flat screen and were focused on the clinging couple.     

    “Nine!” they shouted breathlessly.

    “you,” Roger continued

    Erica delivered the next blow on cue. It was maybe an inch lower than the last, starting into the more fleshy area of her rump. While she felt the pain just as much, and shuddered in Rogers’s embrace, it somehow seemed easier to bear. Not all eyes had left the screen, Susan still watched. The ticker continued its backward count as the ball steadily dropped. Each member of that distant chanting crowd was an unknowing participant in her pain-filled offering and that sent a flickering smile across her face.

    “Eight!”

    “wear,”

    The chanting crowd, her shouting quests, Roger’s words, they were all melding and then the crack of the crop. Lower again, this time the pain was deeper; she could feel it right into the base of her spine. Susan cursed Erica under her breath and squeezed her eyes shut as her legs trembled uncontrollably.

    “Seven!”

    “my,”

    The moments were slowing. Susan worked to isolate the three noises, concentrating hard to bring her lovers words into sharp focus, to string them together. She was aware of the bite of the leather sheathed rod as it smacked into her fleshy bottom but the sensations were changing and that in itself was a distraction. The pain, the throbbing it was all a familiar feeling, a bittersweet memory of past pain survived; she had no time for it now. She needed to pay attention to him.

    “Six!”

    “col…”

    The word, it made no sense; the blow followed with urgent clarity. The pain rattled within her; the heat, the throbbing need overwhelmed her for a brief moment and then her mind began to clear, string together his words. Oh god! He was going to do it! He wanted her! In his collar! Tears welled in her eyes and the ticker in Times Square blurred.

    “Five!”

    “lar,”

    The sound confirmed her hope, forced her to believe it could all be true. Her mind and body relaxed as one even as Erica applied a particularly nasty strike against the lower curve of her bottom. She jerked upward in his arms, a gasp forced from her lips, then settled back, shamelessly clinging to him as she awaited his next word.

    “Four!”

    “and,”   

    Time resumed its implacable pace. The eruption of pain followed the number and word. Susan could hear the Erica’s rasping breath as she delivered the blows. For a brief moment Susan felt guilty for all the exertion she was forcing on poor Erica. The crop was striking on an uppercut now as her lower bottom was attacked and again she lurched upward in her lovers arms.

    “Three!”

    “become,”

    The pain was so intense that it had passed beyond pain. The march of the slashing crop was headed inexorably toward her cunt. Susan cringed at the thought of that harsh slash upon her most tender flesh. She would die! Yet she would die content. There was no denying her sex was moist and gapping, the lips parted and throbbing; even now she rolled her hips outward and upward, presenting herself more openly to Erica’s crop.

    “Two!”

    “my,”

    Susan gasped again; she was on her tip toes now, her back swayed as she stuck her fanny out obscenely for the whip. Erica’s strength was unfailing and her accuracy was impeccable. Nine evenly spaced stripes marked Susan’s bottom the last barely above the point where her bottom ended and her thighs began. The next blow would slice into her distended lips. Susan trembled with fear and longing.

    “One!”

    “slave.”

    Yes, she wanted to cry, though the sound she made was a garbled yelp. Erica landed her final blow          with cruel cunning. It followed across the very tops of Susan’s thighs and slashed down onto her perineum. The force of the blow stretched her vulva pulling her outer lips together with a wet smack. The blow actually forced moisture to spurt from her sex and dribble down her inner thighs. She would have died of embarrassment, but the pain was too intense to allow any such thought or feeling. After wobbling for a moment, her legs buckled. Roger bent with her as her body slid toward the floor. Susan managed to recover enough to flow into a close approximation of her presentation position.

    Roger was still bent close to her. She did her best to straighten and assume a proper posture. Lips parted, back straight, Susan gingerly rested her throbbing bottom down on her heels and spread her knees wide for him. Still Roger didn’t move. She rested her hands on her thighs palms up, a supplicant awaiting her lord’s pleasure. Then it struck her. He was waiting for her answer! She was such a fool!

    “Yes, Oh god yes! Please, sir, I humbly beg to wear your collar.”

    She would have gone on but that was enough. Roger was rising now; he had heard the words from her heart. Roger turned away from her, leaving her kneeling in her open display position. He picked up the two flutes of champagne from the table and handed one to Erica. Susan watched, her blinking eyes glistening.

    The TV showed a raucous mob cheering wildly, though as cameras panning through the horde they would linger whenever they found a couple engaged in a particularly passionate embrace. The strains of ‘Auld Lang Syne’ were being piped into Times Square but they were barely discernable over the background noise. Roger raised his glass to make a toast, and all the guests followed suit.

    “To a healthy, happy New Year.” He said, rather mundanely.

    Roger and Erica touched their glasses and sipped on the bubbly liquid. The others dutifully clinked glasses and welcomed the New Year. Susan was feeling ignored as she waited patiently on her knees. Would he say nothing of her? Nothing of how she had been changed, how she was to change in the coming year? Her giddy joy was turning bitter as she waited expectantly for his attention.

    Roger raised his glass once more and everyone fell silent.

    “To friends and lovers, may we always keep them close.”

 

    Again glasses clinked but now by twos as couples paired up to share this toast. Erica and Mathew entwined their arms and sipped from each other’s flute.

    Roger held his glass to her lips for a moment tilting it back for her. Susan sipped the light effervescent wine but held it in her mouth savoring the taste. He raised the champagne glass above her then brought it to his own lips. With a nod from Roger she swallowed the wine as he drank to his love.

    Roger set his glass down, turned to Erica, and held out his hand. After a quizzical glance she understood and surrendered the riding crop to him. He held the crop under Susan’s chin using the tip to raise her head until she was looking up at their guests. Only then did he step behind her. Susan wanted desperately to lean back against him, but she knelt erect, head high, and body open for the others to inspect. She would make him proud. He turned to the others and spoke.  

    “Susan and I wish to thank you for attending our New Years Eve Party. I am pleased to announce that Susan has consented to wear my collar and we would be honored if you would stay and share her collaring ceremony with us.” 

    Roger brought Susan to her feet. He silently used the riding crop to nudge and prod her into the position he desired. Susan was forced to stand with her feet spread, back straight, breasts thrust forward and her chin held high. Her hands were once more crossed behind her back. The others eagerly moved forward to surround her. Where moments before Susan felt abandoned and ignored, she now found herself the center of intense interest. Susan stared straight ahead erect and unblinking. After a few moments she felt as if she was beginning to sway on her feet. The girls, first Kim and then Barbara embraced her, each whispering private congratulations along with sighs, fluttering kisses, and words of encouragement. The men were somewhat cruder in expressing their appreciation of her beauty; hands stroked and petted, pinched and poked her in the most intimate of openings, but Roger allowed it and so Susan endured it for his pleasure.

   Susan remained still, but her eyes followed her lover. Roger set down the crop and purposefully strode over to the fireplace mantel. He retrieved the box containing her birthday gift and turned back toward her. He seemed so very solemn as he returned with the box cradled in his hands. Susan struggled not to smile; she was sure if she even allowed herself the slightest grin, she would begin to giggle like a schoolgirl and spoil the entire moment.

        “Sam, Kim, would you be kind enough to assist me?”  Roger asked.

 

    Sam and Kim both hurried forward to stand next to Susan; the other guests backed away to take up positions behind her. Roger handed the display case to Kim and then rummaged beneath the blue felt liner and retrieved a half dozen 3X5 note cards. He glanced through the note cards putting them in order and. handed the cards to Sam. Roger then smoothed the felt liner on which her collar lay. Susan really couldn’t help but smile. Leave it to her one true love to have every detail planned, right down to a cheat sheet for the “Master of the Ceremony”.

 

    Susan wasn’t sure if Roger, Kim and Sam had secretly rehearsed this ceremony. She couldn’t think of a time when they might have. Still everyone else seemed to know exactly what to do and she felt a bit self-conscious. Sam glanced at the cards in his hand and took a pace forward, before turning to face her. Roger stood to her right, his arm around her shoulder in a supportive embrace. Kim knelt gracefully to her left, holding the box that contained her collar. Susan glanced down at it, marveling anew at its beauty. The other guests had gathered behind them and were silent but for occasional hushed mutterings and the shuffle of nervous feet.  

 

    Sam cleared his throat and read from the cards.

 

    “Dear Friends,” he began

 

    “We are gathered together here to witnesses, Susan’s affirmation of her desire to dedicate her life in servitude to her Master, Roger, and to become in all ways the possession of her Master.”

 

    Sam looked up and addressed Susan.

   

    “Susan, is that your intention?”

 

    Susan nodded enthusiastically.

   

    “Speak up girl!” Sam demanded, “Do you consent to these conditions of your own free will?”

 

    “Yes,” Susan croaked her throat suddenly dry and tight.

 

    “Kneel and present yourself to your master.”

 

    His tone was harsh and Susan was sure he was enjoying every moment that he added to her confusion and discomfort. She began to sink to her knees, then realized she was facing Sam not her lover.

 

    Susan stepped in front of Roger, faced him, standing proud and erect, then slowly and gracefully knelt before him in a proper presentation display. Kim sighed, and the guests murmured their delight. Susan was relieved to have her back to Sam.

 

    Sam held up the second card and continued to read in his officious tone. Now he was addressing his words to Roger.

   

    “Susan has expressed a desire to serve you, Roger, in any manner you might desire. She humbly asks your leave to become your property, a possession, to be used for your pleasure. Furthermore Susan makes this request of you of her own volition without external compulsion or coercion.”

 

    Sam looked up but Roger’s eyes were on Susan. His desire stirring as he drank in her unabashed nudity and open supplication. Sam cleared his throat again and Roger tore his gaze away from that which he desired.

 

    “Roger, will you accept Susan as your own, a possession to be used, cherished, protected?”

 

    “I will.” Roger stated firmly.

   

    Susan felt a rush of delight and a release of tension. Her body was torn between a giddy joy and a numbing relief. Sam followed the cards and droned on.

 

    “Will you train her to do your bidding and discipline her when she fails?”

 

    “I will.” From her Master

 

    Susan was having trouble keeping still; she desperately wished to embrace him, her knees where all but dancing beneath her.

 

    “And do you accept the gift of this slave’s body, heart, mind, and soul.”

 

    “Yes!” Roger said eagerly.

 

    “You accept this gift of your own free will without external compulsion or coercion”

 

    “Of course.”

   

    “Have you a symbol of ownership to mark your property?”

 

    Kimberly held the box up to Roger and he plucked the silver collar from it. The collar was closed and locked at the moment, looking more like a circlet crown than an instrument of bondage. That was how he handed it to Sam and Sam held it high for all to see. He flipped to the next card and continued to read.   

 

    “This collar is the instrument of Roger’s ownership and control.  As such once Roger has put the collar on his property; it may not be removed except by his wish.  It is not for Susan to decide when and where the collar shall be worn. Do you understand Susan?”

    “Yes,” Susan hissed trying to keep her bottom from squirming against her heels.

    Sam held the silver band above her head; positioned exactly like a crown at a coronation. The singular deference was that he had turned the collar so the keyhole was facing Roger. He winked at Roger, but Susan could not see that. Sam continued in his formal tone.

    “Roger, if it is your desire, you may claim your property.”

    Nothing happened for a moment and Susan couldn’t stand the suspense. She glanced up at Roger and found he was fumbling in his shirt pocket for the keys. He looked flustered and embarrassed. Susan suddenly realized that Roger was just as eager and nervous as she was. The emotional bond of their shared reaction calmed her heart and filled her with joy. Her thoughts grew warm with desire.

    She heard the distant ‘snick’ as Roger, having found the key, opened the collar. She felt the tingle of cold metal as it closed about her, embracing her neck for as long as her master desired. Roger gave the new collar a tug then slipped a finger under it to check its snugness. Others were cheering, clapping, and a few offered toasts for occasion, but Susan was more tightly focused on the here and now.

    Sam had some final words to say.

    “You may worship your master, slave.”     

    Sam may have meant it as a derogatory term, but that last word rang like a badge of honor in her ears. Susan’s head was nuzzling into her Master’s crotch. Teeth closed on a stubborn zipper and tugged it down. Roger was grinning like an idiot while Susan forgot completely about holding position. Her hands trembled as she eagerly unbuttoned his pants and let them drop. He wasn’t wearing any underwear.

    Her lips were insatiable kissing and nipping. Her tongue darted like a hummingbird searching for nectar. When his hands came to rest on her head she gasped joyfully. Her mouth gapped open and he leaned into her taking what was his.

    She moaned around him as he slid across her tongue. Her jaws were wide for him, her lips tightly sealed against his flesh. She inhaled his essence as he thrust firmly into her throat. She opened for him feeling it throughout her body, even as her hips rocked convulsively against her heels.

    Fuck! She was going to cum, before him, without his leave, without any form of control. She was betrayed, undone by her own body, a simple slave desperately needing discipline.

    He was thrusting now deep into her throat. He pounded away with unthinking lust, pure desire. Her entire body began to shudder from her very core. Then even as her own faithless body emptied itself, his was filling her. Susan’s hips convulsed a final time and her heels and ankles were drenched but she swallowed rapidly as her master finally granted her a slave’s reward.

 

    She was sure her punishment wasn’t far behind.   

 

© Mad Lews 2007