Date: Fri, 1 Jul 2011 17:24:00 -0400 (EDT)
From: Calandria
Subject: Procured

Procured (F/F, M/F, D/s, BD, Slavery, Consensual) by  Calandria
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====Procured  Chapter 1 - Mark has Sandra procure him a sex-slave
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====Married  fifteen years, and feeling it. I didn't suppose it was
unusual, but why should I  be like all the rest, and settle for life of boring
respectability? My urges  told me otherwise -- with horrible frequency. Problem
was, I didn't think they  were shared.
Then,  right out of the blue, I came across my still-attractive 38 year-old
wife,  Sandra, reading a little black paperback called `The Image.'
Intrigued, I said, `After you,' and she instantly colored up,  like a kid
caught doing something naughty.
I  made a dive for the book and snatched it. She grabbed it back and gave
me a  mouthful.
`OK,  OK,' I said, `so it's girlie stuff. I won't press the point.'
Later, she came and handed me the book, shamefaced. She said  not a word,
but just walked away.
I  couldn't believe it. Although I must confess I'd never heard of the
work before,  it turns out it was an erotic French classic, about a couple who
take under  their wing a young girl, whom they treat as a sex-slave,
dressing her as they  wish, administering her terrible whippings and sexual
humiliation. By the time I  had read three chapters I had a tremendous erection,
which I had to relieve  before I was halfway through the book. True, it went
right over the top in the  later stages, but had to be regarded as a work of
pure fantasy. What fascinated  me was that my wife had obviously been
captivated by it.
I  resolved to discuss it with her.
The  opportunity didn't occur until that night in bed, when we talked late
into the  night, first of all obliquely, then more directly, about `The
Image.'
Our  discussion revolved, finally, around whether it would be practicable
to do  something like that described in the book, even on a limited scale. I
didn't  know, my wife thought definitely not. But I could tell she was
excited by the  idea, and we made love that night as we hadn't for years, with a
fervor that had  really been missing.
I  wouldn't let the idea go. If a pretty young girl got on the bus, on the
way to  work, I saw her in handcuffs, being belabored with my riding crop,
and begging  for more. In the office, a flighty secretary's short skirt had
me dreaming of  chaining her to the wall, so that I had to pinch myself to
bring myself back to  reality.
But  it was all starting to fade a bit I suppose, as spring turned into
summer, and  my wife and I had fallen back into our comfortable existence when
she walked  into our lives. Just like that.
I was  cleaning the car, when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I looked around
and stood  there was a slim girl of about twenty, dressed in a denim jacket
and jeans, and  a Snoopy tee-shirt, carrying a duffel-bag. Her mousy hair
was gathered in a  pony-tail, with several strands escaping around her
unmade-up face.
`Hi,'  said the girl, `I'm looking for lodgings.' She had a trace of an
accent.
Eastern European?
We  were rattling around in a biggish house, my wife and I, having long
since given  up the idea of having children, but had never thought for one
moment of taking  in a lodger.
I  won't say I didn't have ulterior motives in the back of my mind -- I
should be  lying, but I never even consulted Sandra, I just nodded and said, `We
'll give it  a try, eh? If you don't get on our nerves after a week or
two, you've got  yourself a deal.'
I  don't think we even agreed a price.
I  showed Katia to our spare room, and established that she was, in fact,
Romanian,  and a student, whatever that meant, and left her to make herself
at home. When  Sandra came home from shopping, I broke the news to her. She
went mad, and was  all for storming up to the room and throwing the girl out
on her ear.
I  restrained her, and she eventually calmed down. `After all, we could do
with a  bit of extra cash,' I said, and she saw the sense of that.
A  little while later, she went up to meet Katia, and said she'd prefer to
do so  alone. When she came back down, she was smiling. `It'll be fine,'
she said,  `she's having dinner with us tonight.'
At  eight, I was opening the wine, when Katia appeared. I was stunned. The
slightly  scruffy student was transformed. There stood a beautiful young
woman.  She was dressed in a pleated miniskirt  which showed off magnificent
long bare legs, and a skimpy tank-top which only  just covered a pair of small
but pert breasts. Her hair was brushed out neatly  and fell down her back
almost to her waist. She had applied a little make-up,  including artful
eye-shadow and pale lipstick, which gave her a totally new  look,
innocent-little-girl, but with a `knowing' sort of slant. Sandra came in  with the
dinner. She had made an effort -- it's amazing what an extra woman in  the house
can do - and wore a white silk blouse and tight skirt.
The  dinnertime conversation was stilted somewhat by Katia's strangeness in
our  company, and also, probably, by her lack of perfect English. I
questioned her on  where she came from, and she talked openly about her village and
family, but  when I started to ask her what she was studying, she became
evasive, and I soon  saw tears welling up in her eyes. Soon afterwards, she
made an excuse, and went  hurriedly to her room. Sandra followed her without a
word to me. They were up  there for almost two hours. I know, because I
watched the whole of a football  match on the television before Sandra
returned. When she did so, she sat down on  the sofa beside me and put a hand on my
thigh, something she never did, then let  it creep up to my zipper.
I  kissed her as she fumbled with my underpants, releasing my growing
erection.  Then I felt for her tits  beneath the silk blouse to find to my
surprise that she wasn't wearing a bra.  This was an entirely new departure for
Sandra, and one which turned me on  irresistibly. She took my by now massive
stalk between her red lips and ran them  gently up and down, up and down,
then harder and deeper, taking me to the back  of her throat, until I could
bear it no longer, and I came with a great,  convulsive jerk as she sucked
every drop out of me.
`What  brought that on?' I asked.
`Just.......things,' she said, mysteriously, but I knew that  the arrival
of Katia in our house had had some kind of effect on Sandra. I was  to find
out a whole lot more.
Next  day I went off to work early and had no contact with my wife until I
arrived  home in the evening.
I had  changed into casual garb -- chinos and a polo shirt - and was
listening to music,  when Sandra walked into the room wearing a knee-length black
dress and black  heels.
Her  blonde hair was swept up in a new style, lending her an unaccustomed
sophistication.
`Hello, Mark, darling,' she said, `You know I have talked to  Katia at
length?  And you remember  our conversation about three months ago -- after we
read that book? Well Katia  wants to take on that role.'
I  started to speak, ask about money, that sort of thing, but Sandra
quickly hushed  me, `It's all arranged, darling. I love you, you know that. We
have everything  we need, and now we have Katia -- don't ask any more
questions.'
She  went out then, and came back shortly, with Katia holding her by the
hand.
She  was wearing the same clothes as the previous night, miniskirt and
tank-top.
Her  nipples were clearly visible through the thin material of the top.
`Kiss  Mark, dear,' she said to the girl, and Katia came over, threw her
arms around my  neck and kissed me, her gorgeous full lips open, her little
tongue probing  around the roof of my mouth, her whole lithe body pressed
hard up against mine.  I felt an instant hard-on grow unbidden, and kneaded her
round young buttocks  with both hands.
But  Sandra was suggesting dinner, so we all sat down and ate the pizzas
Sandra had  prepared, conversation at a minimum.
When  we had finished, Sandra said to Katia, `Stand up, girl.'
Katia  complied, standing beside the table, looking embarrassed as we
looked her up and  down.
`Undress,' ordered Sandra, and the youngster looked on the  point of
protesting, until she saw that Sandra's expression was too stern to  admit any
procrastination. She unfastened the waistband of her skirt, and it  fell to
the floor, the she hesitantly pulled the tank-top over her head,  revealing
pointed young breasts, with protuberant aureole and prominent nipples.  She
was left wearing a pair of white cotton panties.
`Those too,' said Sandra, and she hooked her thumbs under  them and pulled
them down revealing her luxuriant bush of pubic hair.
Knowing my role, I ran my hand through her slit, letting two  fingers
linger at the entrance to her cunt, and then tracing it to her tiny  arsehole,
where I drew a gasp from her when I pushed a finger just a little way  into
the puckered entrance.
Meanwhile Sandra was ruffling her bush, and said, `This must  go.' This
very decisively, and from my wife, who had never deigned to shave her  pubes
in fifteen years of marriage, despite several requests from me.
Leaving me open-mouthed, she led Katia from the room, and  shortly I heard
giggles coming from the bathroom, and running water. Then quite  a time
elapsed before they returned. When they did so, Katia wore a robe I  identified
as my wife's, but proudly parted it for my inspection. She was  completely
clean-shaven, and it looked as if her labia had been rouged. I was  overtaken
by a multitude of desires.
But  Sandra was speaking. `Katia, I want you to tell Mark what you have
told me, very  clearly. Tell him what you want.'
She  looked uncertain, and then said, in her halting English, `I will be a
good slave  for you. I want that you hurt me much. For that I like. I do
everything you  want.'
`Good,' said Sandra, `Tomorrow is Saturday. We go and buy you  clothes,
then we start your training. But now you can watch my husband fuck  me.'
With  that she sat on the sofa, and gave me another shock. Two shocks,
really.  For when she raised her dress up to her  waist and spread her legs in a
manner I would never have believed until now, I  saw not only that for the
first time since I had known her she was not wearing  panties, but that she
too had shaven her mound!
Katia  was sat next to her by now, on the sofa, and I was able to fondle
her firm and  delicious tits while I was stoking my wife's sopping slit.
Sandra opened her legs even more generously, and fingered her  own slit
lewdly, pulling her lips apart to afford me easy access, whilst Katia  reached
over, and held my cock to guide me home. It was all I could do to keep  from
coming before I had brought Sandra to a moaning orgasm, but thankfully it
came quickly enough, and I shot my load deep within her, while Katia pulsed
her  clitoris fiercely and groaned in unison.
After  we cleaned up, I said, `Time for an early night, I think?' I heard
no  dissent.
Next  morning, we set off in my car, casually dressed, myself in jeans and
tee-shirt,  Katia in her miniskirt and one of Sandra's tops, and Sandra in
leather trousers  and sweater. We were headed for some boutiques Sandra had
been recommended to.
First  stop was a lingerie shop, and the pretty little assistant didn't
even raise an  eyebrow when I accompanied them into a commodious changing room,
and watched  while Katia stripped and tried on several garter belts. Her
eyes widened just a  little, however, when I remarked that her buttocks must
be left entirely naked,  rejecting one of the garments offered. But she soon
regained her composure, and  sold us two suspender belts, a platform bra,
which left her nipples entirely  displayed, four pairs of stockings, all
different patterns, and a stout lace-up  corset, which Katia eyed with some
alarm, anticipating the constriction it would  cause. Sandra also picked up a
garter belt before we moved on to a dress-shop.  On the way I explained that
panties were out, and Katia seemed to understand. I  glanced in the driving
mirror, and she was holding hands with Sandra on the back  seat.
Once  at the boutique, we were received by an elegant lady in her fifties,
who seemed  to understand our needs instantly, and ushered us into a back
room. Our body  language had probably told her in advance!
Sandra and I sat on an overstuffed sofa, while Katia stood  and allowed
herself to be measured and examined by the lady. Pronouncing herself
satisfied, she left, and shortly returned with an armful of clothes, which she
draped over an armchair.
`Take  your skirt and blouse off,' she told Katia, and showed no surprise
when, upon  doing so, the young girl was left completely naked, stood in
just a pair of high  heels in the middle of the floor.
We  watched as she was fitted with a series of clothes, and rejected those
which  would make access difficult, or which we simply didn't like. We
eventually  walked out with a small selection of skirts and dresses of varying
lengths, two  sheer blouses, two nightdresses and a negligee that Katia had
admired.
Just  around the corner was a shoe-shop, and a short stop sufficed to
purchase three  pairs of needle-heeled sandals, to go with various outfits.
Fortunately Katia  and Sandra shared the same shoe-size, so that they could
change shoes between  them at will.
Then  we called at a sex-shop in a seedy area of town, and caused something
of a
stir  as we made our way between the shop's more habitual customers, who
ogled
Katia's legs while I bought two butt-plugs, two vibrators,  handcuffs,
wrist and
ankle-restraints,
a set  of nipple-clamps, and a flogger.
Our  last stop on a full morning's shopping was at a saddler's, where I
had the girls  wait in the car while I went in and bought a riding crop.
The  expedition complete, I thought a meal would be in order, so really set
the seal  on my credit cards for the month by treating us all to a nice
meal in a fish  restaurant, before making our way home. Sandra and I were in
fact in an enviable  position, economically, and didn't have to think too hard
about the purchases we  had made.
When  we got home, Sandra told Katia to go and rest for an hour, then `
dress in  something nice' for us.
We  sat and watched television for a while, but I could tell Sandra was
restless,  and I was feeling a bit fidgety too, until Katia walked in, wearing
a short red  silk dress with a halter neck and seamed black stockings. She
had on a pair of  Sandra's gold hoop ear-rings. Her nipples thrust at the
silk of the dress and  her firm breasts were outlined perfectly as she leaned
over to kiss me when she  approached the sofa.
`Mark,' said Sandra, `would you mind sitting in the chair?'  She
indicated a chair which had wooden arms, and I rose and moved over to it,  wondering
why.
She  took Katia by the hand and said gently to her, `I hope you meant what
you said  last night.' Then she unfastened the hooks at the neck of her
dress, letting it  fall to the floor.
Katia  stood proudly in a new black satin garter belt and the seamed black
stockings.
Sandra fetched two sets of handcuffs from my purchases of  that morning,
and quickly slipped a half of each pair on each of Katia's wrists,  then bade
her kneel in front of my chair. Next she clipped the cuffs to the arms  of
my chair, so that Katia was cuffed tightly to my chair, and I was unable to
resist fondling her lovely firm tits while Sandra went back to the bags of
purchases.  Katia looked at me with  round eyes, an expression I couldn't
read. But Sandra was stood behind her, with  the new riding crop in her hand.
She was going to whip Katia while she was  attached to my chair!
Whoosh! The first stroke fell across her gorgeous arse, and I  felt the
convulsive jerk run through her, accompanied by an instant hardening of  her
nipples under my hands. My cock also jerked, with a life of its own, into
immediate, almost painful hardness.
As my  wife prepared another lash, I dragged a hand from an engorged
nipple, and  unzipped my fly, then struggled to pull my rampant shaft from its
prison.
Thus  presented to her, Katia took me instantly into her succulent lips,
sucking me  right into her throat, as Sandra delivered another stinging blow
on her offered  buttocks.
With  each stroke, she sucked harder, until the rhythm became unbearable. I
doubt that  my wife was using much force on her first foray with the crop,
but Katia's lips  and mouth were responding perfectly, and I soon shot my
load in huge spurts,  with an enormous groan.
Katia  hungrily swallowed all my hot cum, while Sandra kicked her legs
apart and felt  her quim. `You're wet through,' she said, and went straight
over to the bag  again, returning with another of our purchases, a long,
prick-shaped vibrator,  which she proceeded to insert, without preliminaries, in
the young girl's  waiting cunt.
She  had to release my cock in order to let out a wild scream, and bucked
her whole  body as a fierce orgasm instantly shook her.
Sandra released the handcuffs, and I picked Katia up and took  her in my
arms.  She was weeping  quietly, with the release of pent-up emotion. I
stroked her hair and kissed her  gently, then turned her around to look at her
reddened arse. It was no more than  that. Sandra had not really laid about her
with great vigor with the crop, and  such stripes as there were would soon
disappear. I stroked them gently and she  winced just a little.
Knowing what was needed I fetched some cream and smoothed it  on, and Katia
managed a wry smile.
While  I helped her back on with her dress, she smiled again, and said, `
Thank you,  Mark, but Sandra has not had a fuck.' I grinned at her command of
at least some  English.
Sandra overheard from the kitchen, and said, `Don't worry,  Katia, you can
make it up to me, later.'
After  we had had a snack, we went for a stroll, like any family, our arms
around each  other, nodding to friends, who must have wondered who was this
sexy young  creature accompanying us. It felt good.
We  sat and watched television for a while, with a drink, and then Sandra
said, `I'm  ready for bed, I don't know about you guys.'
Katia  stood up and made as if to head for her room, but Sandra put her
hand on her  arm. `Come and sleep with us, why don't you? We've got a huge
bed. I'd like  that.'
Katia  agreed and went to get ready. Sandra and I were in bed already when
she came  into the room in a new long silk nightdress, her hair freshly
brushed to a soft  sheen. She climbed in between us, and I again felt more than
the beginnings of  an erection. But Sandra was demanding her turn, and had
already guided Katia's  fingers down to her hardening clitoris. The girl's
questing fingers found their  way then between her puffy lips and soon
plunged deep within her cunt. First two  fingers, then three, then Sandra grabbed
Katia roughly by her hair and pulled  her head down between her legs.
As  she did so, and I heard the slurping noises coming from my wife's
soaking cunt,  I eased up the silken hem of Katia's nightgown and traced her slim
legs, up and  up to the smoothness of her mound, where I let my own tongue
linger over her  tight slit, prizing open her lips and seeking the nub of
her clit.
My  two women cried out in unison, and despite all my efforts, I came
again,  involuntarily ejaculating on the sheet. We all slept, intertwined as we
were,  damp patch and all, until Sunday morning light streamed into the
room.
Katia  was eager to make breakfast for us when we finally got out of bed,
and we didn't  object.
Today  we were committed to visit Sandra aging mother -- not a task I
relished, but  something we periodically had to do, so we left Katia to her own
devices, and  drove the fifty miles to the old lady's suffocating home, for a
boring lunch and  session with the photograph album.
We  returned home, having promised Katia that we should take her out that
evening,  to find that she had cleaned the house thoroughly, without being
asked.
`You're not that sort of a slave,' I said, laughing, and she  stood on
tip-toes to kiss me lightly on the cheek.
We  all went to get ready for the evening out, and, like most men, I
suppose, I was  ready long before the women. Sandra was next, dressed in a simple
backless blue  cocktail dress, fishnet stockings and high heels. I thought
she looked ten years  younger than she had a few days ago.
As we  sat watching nothing in particular on the television, Katia entered,
in a long,  silver gown with a translucent bodice, through which could be
had a tantalizing  glimpse of her half-bra, her amazing nipples jutting
proudly out above their  platform, pushing at the thin silk of the dress. The
skirt was tight to below  the hips, and then flared to the ground. She wore her
hair up in a graceful  swirl and completed the ensemble with a pair of long
silver pendant ear-rings  which brushed her shoulders.
Before we left for the restaurant, where I had arranged to  meet friends, I
had one more thing to do. I had Katia raise her skirt, and bend  over in
front of me.  First I  stroked her round buttocks and inspected her stripes,
which were fading nicely,  running my fingers along the most prominent of
them, then I concentrated on her  arsehole, working first my forefinger, then a
thick thumb slowly but firmly into  the puckered opening.
`Aah,' she said.
I  licked my fingers, and forced two a little further in, then promptly
withdrew  them and asked Sandra to pass me the lube. She did so, and I smeared
a liberal  quantity around the opening, then pushed much harder, prizing her
open with two  fingers, right up to her anal sphincter. She moaned, and I
when I felt her cunt  with the other hand, she was getting wet.
`You're a little slut, aren't you?' I asked.
`Yes,' she replied, `Oh yes.'
And  you like this?'
`Yes.'
`I'm  going to hurt you. Will you like that?'
`Oh  yes. Please hurt me,' she said.
With  that, I was getting hard too, and producing the butt-plug from my
pocket, I  thrust it straight into her arsehole. She cried out sharply. It had
hurt, that  was clear -- it was not even the smallest size, and it was fitted
with a ring so  that I could thread a short silver chain through the end.
This I now did, and  attached it to a silver waist chain, which Sandra helped
me put in place around  Katia's narrow waist.
`There,' she said, `that should keep it in place during the  evening.'
I had  her try walking up and down, and she grimaced with the discomfort,
but could  clearly take it. We were ready to go out.
When  we arrived at the restaurant where we were to dine, our friends were
already  there. Jimmy and Lucy were of Chinese extraction, a lovely, sexy
couple I knew  from work. He was small and lively, she lithe and very slim,
with lustrous  straight black hair which came down to her waist. She wore a
simple black jersey  sheath with a gold chain around her waist.
I  somehow knew it was no accident when I felt Lucy's foot playing around
my ankle  during the meal, and found myself getting hard at this new
prospect. I invited  them back for coffee.
When  we arrived, the women went to the toilet together -- as do women
everywhere -- and  Jimmy, agog, said, `Hey, Mark, we've known each other
for.....what? Five years?  And suddenly, there's this gorgeous chick. What's that
all about?'
I  explained, in round terms, about Katia, and realized that it left more
questions  than answers. Jimmy shook his head, `Wow, man, I mean, we're into
some pretty  far out stuff ourselves, but so far it's just been the two of
us. Still,  wouldn't mind increasing the circle, if you know what I mean.'
Before I'd had the chance to digest his words, the ladies  were back with
us, but I couldn't help thinking about Lucy's obvious move in the
restaurant, and patted the sofa for her to sit next to me when we all settled  down.
She snuggled up as close as was decent, and I felt the enticing warmth of
her thigh through her thin dress. Glancing sideways at her, I couldn't help
but  notice that she had virtually no breasts, but the shape of her nipples
was  distinctly visible, poking at the material. She saw me looking and
laughed  lightly, and it was then I noticed that she wore a tongue stud, which
she  slipped out a millimeter, as if deliberately, as she regarded me.
Sandra watched the exchange with mild amusement. I think she  had always
fancied Jimmy, anyway, though not a word had been spoken on the  subject. Now
she said to him, `I don't believe you've seen our new extension,  Jimmy.
Come and have a look.' Then to Katia: `Go and see to the coffee, will  you,
dear, and make sure you get some biscuits and things, eh?'
Left  alone with Lucy, she wasted no time in pulling me into a passionate
kiss, her  tongue-stud rasping around my own tongue in an incredibly erotic
manner.  Rapidly, then, she pushed me away, and  slipped her dress off her
petite shoulders, pushing it down to her waist. I  gasped at the sight of her
breasts, which were tiny, but had sharp, pointed  nipples, both of which
were pierced and from which hung heavy silver  rings.
I  fondled her nipples, and tugged gently at the rings, and she moaned with
 pleasure as her nipples grew visibly. I bent and sucked them hard, pulling
at  the rings with my teeth. We both knew time was limited, and footsteps
outside  the door announced Katia's return with a tray full of coffee things.
She didn't  look even slightly surprised to see Lucy half-undressed, but we
looked at each  other and shrugged, as if to say, `another time,' and Lucy
stood up, and  readjusted her clothing just before her husband and my wife
came back into the  room.
Our  conversation over coffee, though, soon turned to directions we all
knew it would  take. My brief explanation of Katia's presence to Jimmy had only
served to  excite his imagination, and he was like a dog on heat. I could
only guess at  what he had been up to on his short tour of the house with
Sandra. My own brief  encounter with Lucy had had a similar effect on me.
`I  told Jimmy that I had whipped Katia,' said Sandra, conversationally, `
but I  don't think he believes me.'
`There's one way to prove it,' I suggested, then told Katia,  `Stand up
please, and take your dress off.'
She  looked from one to the other of us, stood in the middle of the room,
reached  behind her neck and slowly unclasped the fastener, then lowered the
zipper. Then  she shrugged the dress down from her shoulders, over her hips,
down her long  legs, to the floor. She was left standing, unashamedly, in
nothing but the tiny  platform bra, her nipples jutting upwards, hard and
proud, and the silver chain  at her waist. Her smooth, bare mound was
prominent, and she let her hands wander  over it, then, knowing what we wanted, she
turned around. There, for all to see,  was the other chain, attached to her
waist chain, and disappearing obscenely  between her buttocks, upon which
could still be seen the remains of the stripes  left over from her first
whipping.
`Lovely,' said Lucy, `Oh, Mark, would you do that to me,  too?'
I  hadn't the courage to tell her that it was Sandra and not I that had
administered the crop, and heard a brief suppressed giggle from my  wife.
Jimmy  looked ready to protest, but Sandra took him by the hand and helped
him up from  the sofa, pushing him towards Katia.
`Come  on,' she said, `you've heard the saying "three's a crowd" -- well
let's prove it  wrong.' With that, she led Jimmy and Katia off out of the
room, and left me  alone with Lucy.
`Now  where were we?' said Lucy, the tongue-stud darting in and out. And
this time the  dress didn't stop at the waist. She stepped right out of it,
and was left  wearing nothing but a pair of silk French panties and the gold
chain. The  panties were soon removed, and I soon had another surprise. Her
nipples and  tongue were not the only piercings she had. Her clitoris was
adorned with a  silver ring, from which depended a short chain, attached to
yet another ring,  through one of her labia. She too had a clean-shaven pussy,
and her dark-colored  Asian labia were puffy and inflamed.
I  hungrily fell upon her with my tongue, licking and sucking, and seeking
her  clitoris, which made her moan with pleasure. But it was pain she sought
, and now  she begged me again to hurt her, and pushed me away, insisting I
fetched a  whip.
`OK,'  I said, `if you insist.' But I was excited with the idea too, of
course.
When  I got back with the crop, she was waiting, over the arm of the sofa,
presenting  her buttocks beautifully, but I had other ideas.
`No,'  I said, `kneel up, in the middle of the floor.'
She  did so, and I swept up her long hair and arranged it over her
shoulder, so that  it fell down over her breasts. Then I stood back and said, `Count
down, from  ten.'
I  struck her a stinging blow across her middle back.
`Ten,' she gasped.
I  gave her another, harder, a little lower.
`Nine.'
When  I reached five, I stopped, and felt her slit, down below the hanging
chain.
`You're really wet, Lucy. Do you want more?'
`Oh  yes, Mark, yes please.'
`Say  you want me to hurt you, whip you.'
`Mark, please whip me, hurt me -- a lot.'
I  carried on until she had taken all ten strokes, and her back and
buttocks were  covered in red stripes. Then I threw down the crop, and carried her
slight body  to the sofa, where I lay her down, and was in for yet another
surprise.
Lucy  turned over and spread her arse-cheeks with both hands, offering her
arsehole to  me unmistakably. Needing no second invitation, I plunged my
engorged shaft  straight into her waiting rectum, which sheathed me with a sort
of peristalsis  that thrilled me to the point of instant orgasm. It took
every ounce of control,  in fact, to avoid coming the moment I had entered
her, and no more than a few  pumps were all I could manage before I flooded her
bowels with everything I  had.
We  had cleaned up and dressed and even watched a bit of television before
the other  three returned, and no amount of cajoling would get my wife to
tell me what had  happened between them, so I was similarly unforthcoming.
Next  day was a Monday, and Sandra and I had to go to work. But it was also
my  birthday, and I was mildly surprised when my wife didn't show any sign
of having  remembered over breakfast.
At  lunchtime, Jimmy took me out for a drink, and wished me many happy
returns.  At least he had remembered! He was full  of himself about the previous
evening's entertainment, and eager to repeat the  experience. I told him I'
d have to talk to Sandra first, of course.
When  I got home, there was nobody downstairs, but music was playing, soft
jazz, from  our bedroom. I called upstairs.
`Here, honey,' shouted Sandra, `Come up.'
I  went upstairs, and opened the door to the bedroom.
`I've  prepared your birthday present,' said my wife, from where she was
sitting, on  the end of the bed. She had beside her a large upright
packing-case, covered in  fancy paper, wrapped up in red ribbon. I tore off the
ribbon, and ripped the  paper away, the case fell open, and out stepped Katia,
laced tightly into the  corset we had bought her, her breasts thrusting out
above it, and her nipples  cruelly clamped with the little silver clamps we
had purchased.
She  had on plum-colored stockings, attached to the corset by long
garter-straps, and  the highest needle-heeled and platform-soled shoes we had found.
Sandra had  removed her butt-plug, and showed me the girl's anus, by way of
demonstrating  its improvement.
Next  she passed Katia to me, saying, `Take her, Mark, she's yours -- any
way you want.  Happy birthday!'
I was  thoroughly aroused by the mere sight of her, thus presented, and
when Sandra  helped me out of my trousers, I had an erection like a stallion.
Sandra couldn't  resist taking me briefly in her mouth, licking off my
pre-cum, and massaging my  balls with her hands, while Katia spread her long legs
on the bed.
Then,  without preliminaries, I thrust my shaft into her hot, moist and
welcoming cunt,  and drove into her, my balls smacking against her arse. With a
superhuman  effort, I refused to come, but made myself wait, and, pulling
out, sought her  other, smaller treasure. Sandra had lubricated her anus in
anticipation, and I  forced myself past her still-virgin portals without as
much trouble as I had  been expecting. Tears came to her lovely eyes as she
moaned with pain and  pleasure. There was to be no more waiting, and I felt
my orgasm inexorably  welling up, as was her own climax. I flooded her with
my hot sperm, and she  shouted out something I knew had to be in her own
language.
`I  hope that means "Happy birthday"' I said.
Procured Chapter 2 - Mark, Sandra, and the slave  Katia.
============================================================================
====Mark
====
Katia  had added a new dimension to our lives. That much was clear. Since
the Romanian  girl had come into our lives, we had adopted her as our `
sex-slave' and had  found new ways to enjoy each other as well.
Jimmy  and Lucy had become frequent visitors to our house as well, since we
had  discovered our common bond -- in short, our lives had become much
fuller, in  every sense.
The  week after my birthday, when Sandra had `presented' me with Katia,
gift-wrapped,  Jimmy and Lucy came around for dinner one night. Although I had
been given free  rein with Lucy, and Jimmy had certainly made love to my
wife, on more than one  occasion, I knew he had the hots for Katia. Looking at
her as we waited for them  that evening, I couldn't blame him. She had, on
Sandra's advice, bleached her  hair, so that she was now a platinum blonde,
which suited her sultry looks. She  wore a transparent blouse, at which her
rouged nipples strained, perched on  pert, firm breasts. Below that she wore
a tiny pleated miniskirt, which scarcely  covered the tops of her black
stockings. Her feet were in black patent sandals  with five inch needle heels.
Loose gold chains adorned her waist, an ankle and a  wrist, and from her
ear-lobes hung long chain pendants. When she sat down, she  lifted her skirt,
as she had been told to do, so that her pantiless arse was in  direct contact
with the surface.
Our  conversation around the table was light and entertaining, as usual,
but there  was, again as usual, an undercurrent of sexual tension, and I soon
felt Lucy's  hand creep along my thigh, taking up position on my growing
erection. I sensed  that Sandra was doing much the same thing to Jimmy. Katia
sat demurely watching,  not missing much. She knew her turn would come.
Lucy,  her fingers busy under the table, said quietly to me, while Jimmy
and Sandra  were engaged in a conversation of their own, `Mark, when you
whipped me last  week, I came so tremendously I thought I would die. I don't want
to think it was  the last time. And I want you to hurt me more. Please!'
The  thought of her naked body writhing under the riding crop was turning
me on so  that I now had an enormous hard-on, and Lucy's tongue-stud darted
out in the way  it always seemed to when she was excited. I remembered the
other piercings she  had, now hidden under an exotic red silk kimono, the
heavy rings hanging from  her nipples and the matching ones which depended from
her hard little nub of a  clitoris and her cunt-lip. It was all I could do
to stop myself coming there and  then, as she gently stroked my cock through
my trousers.
But  Jimmy was speaking, as if he wanted everyone's attention. He coughed a
little,  `Er.....Sandra has agreed to loan me Katia for a day. She says
Mark won't mind.'  He looked at me enquiringly, and I nodded in agreement. `
Mark can have Lucy  tomorrow, but that doesn't seem fair on Sandra. I think
Lucy has a suggestion.'  He looked at his pretty Asian wife, and she rummaged
in her bag, and came up  with a photo, passing it over to Sandra.
`He  must be gay, married, or something,' said Sandra, and passed the
photo  back.  I glanced at it -- it was of a  blond guy in his late twenties, I
thought, dressed in leather trousers and a  muscle-vest, very good-looking,
stood by a horse.
`No,'  said Lucy, `he's newly-arrived immigrant, from the same place as
Katia.  His name's Nick -- it's not actually, but  that's what we have to
call him, because his real name's unpronounceable. He  hardly speaks English,
and doesn't know anybody, but I met him at the gym. And  he's seen your
photo, and wants to meet you, Sandra.'
`How  do you know, if he doesn't speak English?'
`Trust me, dear,' she said, `tomorrow OK?'
We  all agreed to meet for lunch in a restaurant the next day, Saturday,
and that  Lucy would bring Nick along.
When  we arrived, the others were already there. Lucy was wearing a species
of  trouser-suit. There was no easy way to describe it. It consisted of
loose-fitting harem trousers and a backless halter top, all in a filmy,
translucent, organdie material, cream-colored, patterned with autumn  leaves.
She wore, as she always  did, very high stiletto heels. Jimmy and the
newcomer, Nick, who looked relaxed,  were casually dressed in chinos and linen
shirts.
Katia  wore a flared maroon silk skirt and white silk blouse. I knew she
wore a white  satin corset underneath, which supported her white stockings.
Sandra had opted  for a short blue dress with a plunging neckline, showing off
her generous  cleavage, which Nick eyed openly.
Jimmy  took his wife by the hand, and, touching Nick on the shoulder with
the other  hand, he spun Lucy around and traced the lines of her recent
whipping for him to  look at. Then he pointed at me, and Nick whistled softly
through his  teeth.
`You?' he asked, pointing.
`Yes,' I said.
He  turned to Sandra, `You like?'
`Yes,' she affirmed.
He  shook his head, laughing quietly to himself.
We  sat down to lunch, and the conversation ranged over many topics. But
all of us  were eager to adjourn, and it had been agreed that Lucy and I
should go to her  home, whilst the others would go to my house, which was larger.
We  had scarcely arrived in Lucy's hallway, before she turned and held out
her arms  to me. I took her into mine, and kissed her hungrily, feeling the
little  tongue-stud scraping around the roof of my mouth and clicking
against the backs  of my teeth. My fingers sought her erotically adorned nipples
through the  whisper-thin cloth of her top, and she gasped as I tugged on the
big hanging  rings which I found there. Her tiny breasts were like those of
a teenager, in  contrast to the exotic piercing.
`Come,' I said, and lead her along the passage to the bedroom  of their
bungalow.  She was anxious  to show me their `new installation' as she called
it, and, when we got to the  bedroom, I saw what she had been talking
about. Jimmy had set into one wall a St  Andrew's Cross, with snap-links hanging
from the extremities. I was impressed,  and said so.
`Now  you can tie me up and whip me properly,' she said, `I want you to
really hurt  me, Mark.'
She  undressed, then fetched ankle- and wrist-restraints from a drawer and
let me put  them on her, then I clipped her up to the cross, face to the
wall, and was about  to take my belt off.
`No,'  she said, `look in the top drawer.'
I  went to the top drawer, and found an assortment of instruments of
torture.
`What?' I asked.
`The  switch, ` she said.
I  picked up a thin cane with a grip like that of a golf club, and tested
it  through the air. It made a satisfying swoosh.
Next  I felt between Lucy's legs, and her cunt was dripping wet with
anticipation.
`You  want this, don't you?' I said.
`Oh  yes, Mark, hurt me,' she pleaded.
I  stepped back and lashed her across the buttocks with the thin cane. She
gasped,  but didn't cry out, so I took aim and struck, higher this time -- `
swish' and the  stinging kiss fell across her lower back. She let out a
short moan, a mixture of  pain and pleasure. I redoubled my efforts, and whipped
her harder, raising an  angry red welt across the middle of her back. This
time she cried out sharply,  and I was afraid I had hurt her too much.
I  asked her if she could stand it and she was almost scornful, and her
breathless  reply sounded as if she was on the brink of an orgasm. I unclipped
her and spun  her around, then refastened her, back to the wall. I looked at
her there,  suspended, her pierced nipples, labia and clitoris prominent,
then set about  continuing the punishment. I caned her twice across her flat
stomach, across the  front of her thighs, and then as accurately as I could
right over her naked  mound. Now each stinging blow wrung a cry from her,
but her cries had the ring  of ecstasy about them, and when I took her down,
fearful of marking her lithe  and beautiful body permanently, she said, `Is
that all?'
I  held her in my arms, and then laid her down on the bed. She pulled me
down with  her, and fought with my trousers, to free my cock from its prison.
In truth I  could hardly wait to have my length inside her, but first, I
found her gaping  slit with my mouth, and licked her furiously, then took the
stud on her clitoris  between my teeth, and felt the hardness of her nub
beneath. My tongue went deep  within her luscious cunt, whilst my fingers found
her arsehole, and she cried  out for my cock.
Denying her no longer, I came up for air, and rammed my shaft  straight
into her, until my balls slapped against her arse. I couldn't keep this  up for
long -- after what I had done to her, it would have been humanly
impossible, and I shot my load of hot spunk after a few short strokes.
After  we had cleaned up, and I had rubbed cream into her worst welts, she
told me she  had come at least five times, three while she was being
whipped, and once  before!
Sandra
=======
Jimmy, Nick, Katia, and I drove back to our house, and we  chatted happily
enough. To be truthful, Katia had become more than just a slave  -- she had
become a friend to go shopping with, and share the housework, and I  always
felt comfortable with Jimmy -- after all, we had fucked a few times, so  why
not?
But  when we got home, Jimmy was eager to disappear to the guest bedroom
with Katia,  and I was left alone with Nick. I felt awkward, to say the least.
To  break the ice, I got a drink, and poured him a whisky, a Martini for
myself, and  then we sat down on the settee. I felt like a teenager with her
new boyfriend.
Nick  showed no sign, however, of being nervous, and sat back on the settee
with his  whisky in one hand, toying with my hair with the other, a slight
smile on his  handsome face.
He  looked around, and, spotting the music centre, got up to inspect our CD
 collection. He picked out an Isabel Boulay selection, to my surprise, and
put it  on the turntable as if he had been operating our machine all his
life.
`Dance?' he asked.
I  nodded, and got up to be enfolded in his strong arms, his hands,
instantly  fondling my arse through the thin cotton of my dress. I was acutely
aware of my  lack of panties, and so, I was sure, was Nick. His body molded to
mine as we  smooched around the room to the romantic strains of the French
ballad, and I  could feel that he was already sporting a sizeable erection
before Isabel got to  the second number. I wondered what I was doing, a
38-year-old housewife,  dirty-dancing in her own house, with a young Romanian stud
she didn't even know  -- ah well.
Then  he suddenly stopped. His attention was taken by a stack of S&M
magazines  Mark had left on the sideboard. The top one had as its cover a picture
of a  naked, bound and gagged woman, being whipped with what I now knew to
be an  impractically large whip, by a black-hooded but otherwise naked man,
with an  improbably large, erect penis.
`You  like?' he asked.
I  smiled and said, `well, yes, I suppose so.' I didn't want him to think
I was  into too heavy punishment. For just a moment I was glad that Jimmy
was upstairs,  however occupied he may be.
Nick  seemed satisfied with my reply, and spun me around. He buried his
face in my  hair and cupped my tits in his hands, through the material of my
dress. I ground  my arse into his groin in time to the music, and he groaned
almost  inaudibly.
I had  always thought my breasts my best feature -- still fairly firm for my
 thirty-eight years, and well-shaped, but mobile enough to jiggle around
nicely  when I went without a bra, which was, at least nowadays, very often.
And I had  protuberant aureole, with long nipples, which hardened readily
when I was  excited. Like now. Nick's hands had slid under my dress, and were
kneading my  tits, making me weak at the knees. His fingers tweaked my
nipples, turning them  into bullets, and I moaned out loud. I could actually feel
cunt-juice running  down the inside of my leg -- something I didn't remember
ever feeling  before.
He  pushed me towards the heavy oak dining table and gently doubled me over
it, at  the same time forcing my legs to part slightly by inserting one of
his knees  between them. He stood back and lifted my skirt unceremoniously
up to my waist,  exposing my bare arse, which he took his time looking at,
and stroking quite  tenderly.
`Beautiful,' he said, then, without warning, fetched me a  tremendous
slap, with the flat of his hand, on my right buttock, instantly  reddening it.
Before I had time to protest, he had repeated the treatment, this  time to my
left buttock.
`Ooooh,' I cried, `that hurt.' But the warmth had spread with  the
stinging pain, and a new pleasure was starting to flood my very centre. And  then
I wondered what he was doing, as he was fiddling about with something. I
realized he was taking off his narrow leather belt, and doubling it! Without a
 word, there was a whistling sound, a great crack and pain exploded as the
leather thong struck my sensitive flesh. I was sure it had left a terrible
mark,  and put my hand back to feel, but he moved it away, and struck me
again, with  searing force.
`Stop,' I shouted, then, `no, don't stop, I want more -- I-I  don't know.'

He  hesitated, lost for any words that might help, and said, `You like?'
`Oh  yes, Nick,' I heard myself saying, `I can take more.'
He  lashed me four more times, on my upper thighs and lower back -- twice
each -- and  then threw down his belt. His breathing was rapid, and he was
obviously as  aroused as I was, but I was still thrilled by the feel of his
hardness when he  had pulled out his cock and was stroking it up and down my
waiting, soaking  slit. I reached back with both hands to spread my swollen
cunt-lips wide, and  imagined my vagina as a dark, gaping, beckoning tunnel.
Nick's young and eager rod knew no language barrier, and slid  into my
innermost depths without resistance. I gripped and released alternately  with my
cunt-muscles, which Mark has always complimented me on, heightening his
pleasure, as he rode me, the pain of my lashing still mingling with the sheer
ecstasy of the fucking. He massaged my tits as he pumped me, and I came,
oh, I  came, and again............I thought, hoped, he would never finish,
couldn't go  on so long -- it was like a porno movie!
But  then he was coming to his climax, I sensed it, and, with a great
shout, he  tensed, hard and long, and I felt the red-hot gush of his sperm
flooding my  depths.
Jimmy
======
Married to Lucy, I could hardly claim to be going short of  sexual
excitement, and my friendship with Mark and Sandra had provided me with  plenty of
variety in recent weeks. Sandra had hungrily accepted my advances, and
fucked with an enthusiasm it was hard to beat. But the mere sight of Katia drove
me wild, and Mark had so far kept her all to himself. When I chided him
about  it, he said it wasn't true -- that he shared her with Sandra -- and the
thought of  that was enough to get me going all over again.
So  now, as at last I walked up the stairs behind the tall Romanian beauty,
I could  hardly wait to get my hands on her.
When  we got to the bedroom, she turned to face me, shaking her blonde hair
out from  the ribbon that had held it in a pony-tail, so that it framed her
lovely face,  and fell down below her shoulders. Slowly she unbuttoned her
silk blouse, then  shrugged it off, covering her breasts with her hands,
teasing me. She began  softly kneading her flesh and tugging at her nipples
between thumb and  forefinger, watching me as she did so. Her tongue came out
from between slightly  parted lips, and ran along the tips of her teeth.
Her  attention switched to her skirt, and she smoothed up the soft silk
across the  naked, shaven, expanse of her mound, exposing the front extremity
of her pink  slit to my hungry view. Then, in one swift movement, she tore
off the skirt, and  spun around, so that my view was of her gorgeous rounded
buttocks, bare from the  frilled bottom of her white satin corset to the high
lace tops of her  stockings.
Deliberately, she parted her arse-cheeks with both hands,  pulling open her
puckered anus, in as lewd a gesture as could be.
She  looked at me over her shoulder, under a fringe of platinum hair.
`You  can fuck me there, if you like,' she said,' but I want you to do
something  first.'
`Anything,' I said, and meant it.
`Hurt  me,' she said, `I want you to hurt me.'
She  walked, graceful on her teetering heels, to a cupboard, and came back
with a  tray, which she presented to me.
`Choose,' she said, and I was shown a variety of whips and  other
instruments of torture. I picked a small dog-whip, consisting of a leather  thong on
a wooden handle.
`Take  your corset off,' I told her. I wanted to have access to all of her
 body.
`You'll have to help me,' she said, and I unlaced it for her,  noting the
marks it left on her body where her waist had been cruelly  constricted by
its tightness.
`Leave your stockings on,' I said, ` and kneel on the  floor.'
She  did as she was told, and I made her hold her hands up behind her head.
Next I  made her part her legs a little, so that I could see how aroused
she was.  She was already damp in  anticipation.
`This  is going to hurt,' I told her.
`I  know,' she said, `hurt me, Jimmy.'
The  whip whistled through the air as I wielded it, at first inexpertly,
and struck  her the first stinging crack just below the shoulder-blades. She
writhed but  just moaned a little at the blow, but I got more efficient as I
worked my way  down her lovely body, and red wheals started to show where I
had meted out  punishment.
After  six strokes, she was sobbing, and I stopped, but when I knelt down
and felt her  cunt she was wet through, her juices running as liberally as
her  tears.
`I'd  better stop now,' I said
`Please give me just a few more, Jimmy,' she pleaded, `I want  you to.'
I  lashed her three more times, across her buttocks, raising beautiful red
stripes,  then picked her up in my arms. She weighed nothing at all.
I put  her down on the bed, face down, and she needed no cushion to raise
her arse --  she lifted it to present it to me, her own muscles doing the job
effectively. I  was absolutely rampant, and as stiff as I've ever been in my
life. Although her  anus had only been penetrated a very few times, and was
still very tight, my  hardness would overcome any obstruction, and I pushed
my way in, in, in, past  her restricting sphincter, until with a final
great gasp, I was deep within her  very depths. After the thrill of her
whipping, we could neither of us hold off  for long and a few desperate strokes were
all it took before I spurted, hot and  hard, as she came with a great sigh.
When she felt me beginning to soften, she  very deliberately reached behind
me and stuck a long, delicate forefinger  straight up my rectum, which had
the effect of bringing me to a new, instant  hardness. Pulling out of her
tight arsehole, I located her eager, warm and wet  cunt-hole, and penetrated
her as slowly as I was able, savoring the moment,  kneading her tits as I did
so. Then, when I started to fuck her, gently at  first, I moved a hand down
to massage her clit, flicking and pulling at it as I  shafted her. I
pounded her for as long as I could keep from climaxing again, and  she had at
least two more orgasms before I finally had to let myself go and  shoot my load
once again.
Katia  had come up to expectations.
Procured Chapter 3 - Katia is branded, then recruits a slave  for Lucy.
============================================================================
====Sandra,  my wife, and our friends Lucy and Jimmy, were deep in
discussion with Katia when  I got home from work one day. They were sitting around
the kitchen table, over a  pot of tea, and the talk sounded animated.
`Can  anyone join in?' I asked.
`Of  course,' said Sandra, `Lucy would like Katia to find them a slave too
-- she  thinks it would be fairer on Jimmy.'
But  Katia was trying to make herself understood, and her English still
being quite  limited, she was finding it rather frustrating. I always did best
at following  her odd linguistic quirks, and said, `Explain to me, Katia!'
Her  big grey eyes regarded me solemnly, and she said, `Mark, I can find
someone for  Jimmy, yes, but to Romania I must go, and I will be in danger if
I do not be  owned.'
`But  Katia, you know you are our slave. Are you not happy here?'
`Oh  yes, Mark, I am very happy, but I must have a mark to show. You must...
how do you  say?'
I  caught on suddenly, `You want me to have you tattooed?'
`Not  tattooed, no, the other thing.'
`You  want to be branded?'
Lucy  was licking her lips, her little silver stud darting in and out, and
said,  `Mmmm, Mark, why not?'
Sandra looked more doubtful, and asked, `But wouldn't it hurt  terribly?'
`Yes,  I think so,' said Katia, `but I should love to have you do it to
me, then I  should be truly your slave, no?'
Jimmy  was trying to catch my attention, `I've got an idea,' he said,
excitedly, `it's  something I've seen on the Internet.'
It  transpired that Jimmy, who was very much into surfing the Net, had
found a BDSM  site, which offered a branding service -- the problem was, we would
have to go to  Frankfurt.
A  couple of weeks later, we had sent the details of the iron we wanted
making to  the German club. We wanted to have Katia branded with our initials,
and some  amusement transpired when we realized that our initials could make
her look as  if she was bought at Marks and Spencer! All-in-all, `SM'
seemed a nice  combination, carrying with it the spice of a possible double
meaning, so we had  asked for the two letters to be entwined.
I was  proud of the girls as they walked around the airport lounge, and all
eyes were  on them when we boarded the aircraft. I was often given to
wondering what people  would think if they possessed my knowledge, that the three
of them were stark  naked under their outer garments. When Katia stretched
up to put her bag in the  overhead locker, anyone close enough was treated
to brief glimpse of her shaven  pussy up her little flared skirt. She came
then and sat between Sandra and me,  and I saw that her eyes were shining with
excitement. Jimmy and Lucy were in the  row behind, and Jimmy reached
through the narrow gap between the seat-backs, and  touched Katia on the cheek.
She responded by gently biting his  finger.
We  landed at Frankfurt's busy airport, and a minibus was awaiting us, as
promised,  a brute of a guy called Heine behind the wheel. He seemed to have
very little  English, but to our astonishment, Katia seemed at home in
German, and chatted to  him as we were driven around a diabolically hectic
ring-road system, and plunged  into what appeared to be a red-light district.
We  drew up outside what seemed to be a large Commercial Centre, then all
got out,  with our minimal luggage (we had only brought enough for an
overnight stay), and  were taken into a reception area, like that of a modern
hotel. And a hotel it  turned out to be -- we were shown to two spacious rooms,
something we hadn't  expected, and told to wait until Marlies came to fetch
us.
Sandra and I had hardly finished inspecting the stylish  facilities, when
Marlies appeared. She was by no means the expected stereotypic  German
blonde. She was, in fact, a slim, dark-haired woman of about forty-five,  her hair
tied up in an elaborate knot to show her elegant long neck, which  sported
a wide silver choker. She was dressed in an expensive-looking black  velvet
dress, with a flared skirt, black seamed stockings, and very high heels.
She greeted Sandra and I in perfect English, and then said, `So this is Katia,
 who will be marked?'
I  nodded, and she held out a hand to our slave, who stood and allowed
herself to  be inspected by the newcomer.
`Hmmm,' she said, `she is very nice, I think. You are right  to have her
marked.'
Whilst I was considering the import of that remark, she went  on, `Have you
thought about where she should be marked?'
I had  vaguely thought that her buttocks might be the place, but before I
could say  anything, Marlies raised her skirt, revealing her stocking-tops
and the secret  white flesh above, and there, on her upper thigh, just
alongside a neatly shaven  mound, was a deeply-scored brand, an image of a two
crossed whips. It looked as  if it had been done long ago.
`That's beautiful,' I said, and just then Lucy and Jimmy came  in.
`Oops, sorry, did we interrupt something?' said  Lucy.
`Not  at all,' said Marlies, introducing herself.
Jimmy  said he thought the best place for Katia's brand was on the
buttocks, but Lucy  said she thought it might be best to put it just above the cleft
of the buttocks  -- `then she can show it in some dresses.'
I  liked that idea, and Marlies thought it had merit too, and so it was
decided.
Marlies then said, `I suppose that, if you've been on our  website, you'll
know we do it with some ceremony. Have dinner, then I'll send  someone with
your costumes about ten, OK?'
We  went out and found a Turkish restaurant and dined reasonably well, then
were  back in plenty of time. Katia was getting visibly nervous when a
knock came on  the door and two girls came in carrying baskets. Another girl was
delivering a  similar basket next door to Jimmy and Lucy as I let them in.
One  basket contained clothing for Sandra and myself, they said, and the
other one  was for Katia. They said we should bee ready in fifteen minutes.
Our  clothing was simplicity itself. Sandra's consisted of a long white,
silky dress,  probably nylon, which would cover her modestly enough, with a
high neck and long  sleeves. She decided to wear nothing but that and her
heels. My own was a simple  `monastic' hooded robe, also in white. The
intention was obviously a  quasi-religious atmosphere.
Katia  was given a long black dress made of rough hemp, tied at the waist
with a length  of rope. She was also supplied with heavy chains to shackle
her ankles and a set  of handcuffs.
She  put on the dress, grimacing a little at the feel of the rough hemp
cloth against  her skin, and I clasped the chains to her ankles, and cuffed her
wrists behind  her. Sandra had slipped into her dress, and a knock on the
door announced that  Jimmy and Lucy were ready.
We  didn't have much to say as we waited, but then another knock came at
the door.  It was Marlies again, this time dressed in a long white gown rather
like that  given to Sandra and Lucy, but in it, she was transformed,
statuesque, her  breasts thrusting out proudly at the thin material.
`Ready?' she asked, and looked at Katia approvingly. Then she  turned on
her elegant heel, and let us all follow her to the lift. We all got  in, and
Marlies took a key from a chain she had around her neck and put it into  a
slot. The lift descended, way below the public floors.
We  emerged into a candlelit cavern-like space, where a deep-voiced,
barely-musical  chant filled the air, and a smell like incense matched it.
Marlies said something in German as we approached a black  velvet curtain,
and two men, dressed like myself, came out. They stood either  side of
Katia, who by now was wide-eyed with terror, and had started to cry  quietly, and
marched her along a short corridor, her chains making movement  extremely
difficult, so that she stumbled and had to be supported by them. A  door at
the end of the corridor opened, and a tall man was framed in the  doorway,
making an impressive figure.  He was well over six feet tall, and
well-muscled, was stripped to the  waist, and wore only a pair of tight trousers and
leather boots.
`Halt,' he said, and Katia's two jailers stopped obediently.  The other
man came and looked her over carefully, running his hands over her  body
lecherously, then turned to us, as we had been following. He spoke to me in
perfect English, `You are Mark, I think?'
`Yes.'
`And  this is Katia, who is your slave, and who you will have branded,  yes?
'
`Yes.'
`I  will pay you ten thousand Euros for her. It is, I think, a generous
offer.'
I was  taken aback, and lost for words, but blurted out, `No, she's not
for sale, we've  just come to have her branded.'
The  big man smiled, `OK, I will do it -- never let it be said that Klaus
goes back on  his word.' Then he turned to Katia, `Komm, meine schätzchen.'
He seized her by  the hair and dragged her through the door, protesting at
this sudden rough  treatment, her chains clanking on the concrete floor.
We  all went through into what seemed to be a torture chamber. There were
ring-bolts  set into rough stone walls, and the ceiling was supported by huge
wooden  columns, which had hooks and rings let into them. Light was
supplied by means of  a lot of big candles. In the middle of the floor was a huge
iron brazier, with  red-hot coals glowing merrily, giving off a lot of
radiant heat.
Marlies now asked me quietly if I had definitely decided  where Katia was
to be marked, and I told her yes. She then took charge and  pulled the
frightened girl to one of the wooden columns, where she undid the  handcuffs, and,
raising her hands above her head, chained her wrists high to the  column.
Only then did she unfasten the clasps at the shoulders off her dress, so
that it fell to her waist, then she untied the rope around her waist, revealing
 Katia's lovely nakedness, her narrow waist and gorgeous rounded buttocks.
Klaus  ran his hand around above the cleft in her arse cheeks, establishing
the exact  spot, and then showed me the iron, still cold, that they had
prepared for me. I  nodded my approval, and he put it into the fire.
Katia  was looking at me while all this was going on, just saying, `Oh, oh,
oh.' But I  looked away, and when my gaze lighted on Lucy, her eyes were
excited beyond  belief. We exchanged a look which said everything, and she had
a hand between  her legs, pushing the thin material of the dress into her
doubtless soaked slit.  Sandra, beside me, was breathing heavily too.
Klaus  said, `So, fertig,' and, taking the iron from the fire, took the
two paces  needed to reach Katia's body, and plunged the almost red-hot tip
onto the  precise spot below the small of her arched back.
Simultaneously, there was a terrible sizzling of scorching  flesh, an
awful, ear-splitting scream from Katia, and the sweet smell of burning  meat.
Katia slumped down in a faint, suspended by her bonds, and didn't come  round
until we had taken her back to the room, and dressed her sore back. She
would sleep on her stomach for a few nights.
Three  weeks later, Katia was ready to fly to Romania. By now, she had our
trust -- we  somehow knew she would return, even if, on the face of it, it
seemed stupid to  send her off all by herself, with a purse full of money, to
her own country. We  saw her off at the airport, watched heads turning as
men and women alike saw her  long legs, perched, as ever, on four-inch heels,
proudly strutting across the  departure hall. She was much changed from the
mousy creature who had first  approached us, looking for lodging, those few
months ago.
Two  days later, Katia emailed us from the house of the Mayor of Navodari,
her  birthplace, to say she had found someone who she felt sure Jimmy and
Lucy would  like. She carefully made no mention of bringing her as a slave,
but said that  the person `was very eager to please.' She said she had been
having problems  with `some people' but she had `shown them her mark, and
they had understood.' I  emailed back, telling her to come back as soon as
possible, knowing it was  probably unnecessary.
The  next contact we had from Katia was a brief telephone call from
Bucharest  airport, telling us what flight she would be on. The call was cut off,
but we  got the gist of it, and set off for the airport a couple of hours
later to meet  her. We told Lucy and Jimmy not to bother coming, as it would
have meant  bringing two cars, and Jimmy was working anyway.
The  flight was delayed half an hour, so we had a coffee while we waited,
then stood  with all the other people, anxious families awaiting sons and
daughters,  chauffeurs awaiting businessmen, assorted drivers holding up signs
with names  stenciled on them. We saw Katia's platinum blonde head amongst
the crowd, and,  unlike many, she had no trolley, but carried her small
suitcase. Alongside her,  carrying an even smaller one, was a shorter,
dark-haired, olive-skinned girl,  with almost Indian features. She had a longish nose,
large, deep brown eyes, and  her jet-black hair was caught up in a
pony-tail, but came down almost to her  waist. She wore faded jeans, sneakers and a
denim jacket which didn't match her  jeans. Beside Katia's pleated plaid
skirt, silk blouse, leather jacket and  heels, she looked very much the poor
relation.
Katia  looked delighted to see us, and after embracing us warmly,
introduced us, `This  is Nadia, she is my cousin.'
Nadia  looked terrified, having been through the ordeal of the customs and
immigration  procedures, but Katia had helped a lot, and we were soon in the
car, speeding  into town.
During the trip, it became clear that Nadia spoke little  English, rather
like Katia when she had first arrived, and she was going to need  time to
acclimatize.
When  we arrived at Lucy's door, she greeted us, and asked Katia what Nadia
had been  told about what her role would be. Katia said she had told her
that she could  expect to be whipped a lot, because Lucy was very strict.
`And  she still wanted to come and work here?' asked Lucy.
`She  was abused by her father, her grandfather and her two brothers, at
home in  Romania, from when she was twelve, and now they want to sell her to a
Sheik in  Saudi Arabia. I think she will be better off with you, no?'
`How  did you get her away, Katia?' asked Sandra.
`There are some things you do not ask,' she said.
Lucy  asked us if we could stay and help her, especially Katia, as it was
going to be  difficult to communicate with her new slave, so we took off our
coats and  followed them when Lucy took Nadia by the hand and led her
upstairs to the room  she had designated as her bedroom.
Nadia  looked pleased with the simple, light, airy room, with its ample,
mirrored  wardrobe and en-suite shower-room. She smiled for the first time,
and then lost  the expression when Lucy turned and slipped the old denim
jacket off her  shoulders, and pointed to the belt holding up her jeans. But
Nadia knew what was  wanted of her -- it wasn't the first time she had been told
to strip -- and she  unbuckled the belt and wriggled out of the jeans,
revealing slim, shapely legs,  clad in pink cotton panties. When she pulled off
her tee-shirt, her bra was an  unflattering white cotton one, probably bought
on the market. Lucy tutted and  came up behind her, unfastening the bra,
then slipping the straps off her  shoulders. She had lovely, though not
overlarge, firm breasts, with prominent  aureole and long nipples.
`Mmmm,' said Lucy, `Jimmy's going to like these.' I was  getting hard
just looking at her, and Sandra sensed as much, coming close and  stroking my
cock through my trousers.
Lucy  now pointed to Nadia's panties, and the girl hooked her thumbs into
the  waistband and pulled them down, over her hips, so that they fell around
her  sneakers. She had a virtual forest of pubic hair cloaking her mound,
wisps of it  curling around right below her pussy.
`That's horrible,' said Lucy, and, lifting one of Nadia's  arms, noted
that her underarms, too, had vestiges of hair that needed attention.  She
turned to Sandra, `Will you let Katia attend to her, while we have a drink,
Sandra?'
`Certainly, darling,' she said, then to Katia, `Bring her  down and show
her to us, when you've finished, will you, dear?'
With  that, Sandra, Lucy and I went down to the lounge, where we poured
ourselves  whisky, and put on some music.
Half  an hour later, Jimmy still wasn't home, but Katia brought a
transformed Nadia  downstairs, a timid smile on her face. She had her wrapped in a
silky black  kimono, her black hair now brushed out to a great silken mane,
coming right down  to her waist.
With  something of a flourish, Katia presented her protégée, whipping off
the kimono,  to leave her standing in a pair of furry, high-heeled, bedroom
mules, and  nothing else but a delicate silver chain that Katia had clipped
around her  slender waist. She was now completely clean-shaven, and her neat
young slit  looked like that of a child now that she was devoid of all hair,
but she had a  knowing look about her face and stance which belied the
youthfulness of her body  -- and when Lucy had her bend over, she obediently
spread her arse-cheeks with  both hands. She knew what was required of her, and
I couldn't resist reaching up  from where I sat on the sofa and probing the
entrance to her anus with my  fingers. She didn't flinch, and her arsehole
was dilated -- it was clear this was  no virgin orifice, and she was going to
need no introduction to anal  sex.
`Do  you like her?' Katia asked Lucy.
`She  is lovely,' said Lucy, `and Jimmy will be very pleased. If you would
all like to  come to dinner tomorrow, when Jimmy will be home earlier, we
shall have a little  ceremony.'
Next  evening, we decided to dress up for the occasion, knowing,
more-or-less, what  Lucy had in mind. I wore a white polo-necked shirt under a blue
blazer and grey  flannels, and was pleased to see my two female companions
looking their best.  Sandra had shed ten years since Katia had joined us, and
looked wonderful,  having grown her hair longer, and invested in porcelain
nails. She wore a yellow  silk halter-neck dress, light as a breeze, so that
her ample breasts were barely  concealed, and I knew she wore nothing at all
under it. Katia had had Sandra  lace her into one of her cruel corsets,
which constricted her already tiny waist  even more, and pushed her firm little
breasts upwards on their platform bra. The  corset also had the effect of
making her buttocks more prominent as she  walked.  She had attached black
shiny stockings to the long garter straps, and wore over all this a
translucent  red dress, and matching red heels. I got an instant erection just looking
at  her.
When  we got to the house, Jimmy answered the door, and said that Lucy and
Nadia were  preparing dinner. He looked appreciatively over my two
companions, and we all  sat down with a drink.
When  Lucy appeared, I whistled, and she did a twirl. She had `dressed to
stay at  home,' of course, and didn't have to worry about being seen in
public. Ever the  exhibitionist, she wore a simple long black fishnet
tube-dress, with a big,  heavy silver chain around the waist. It consisted of
inch-and-a-half mesh, and  through it, every detail of her body was visible -- her
tiny tits, with their  metal rings hanging from the long nipples, the lewd
metal ring depending from  her clit-hood, to which she had clipped a light
chain, looping around to attach  to the pendant at her navel.
`Bloody hell, Lucy,' I said, `and you expect us to eat, with  you looking
like that?'
She  smiled her secret smile, as Nadia came in carrying a tray of food.
Nadia was  dressed in a traditional `maid's outfit' -- a little black silk
dress, with a  frilly white apron, long white gloves, black seamed stockings,
and black  stilettos.
`Nadia is going to serve us,' said Lucy, `then she must be  introduced to
a little discipline, I think.'
`Has  she been bad?' asked Katia, naively.
`Of  course not,' said Lucy, and offered no further explanation.
Lucy  allowed Nadia to sit and eat with us after she had served the food,
much as we  did with Katia -- they were sex-slaves rather than servants, after
all, and when  the newcomer looked timid at being invited to take her place
at the table, Lucy  asked Katia to explain to her. The explanation seemed
to make them both giggle.
I,  for one, couldn't take my eyes off Lucy's nipples, with their exotic
rings,  poking through the mesh of her dress. Sat opposite, she insisted on
teasing my  ankle with the tip of her pointed shoe, and looking at me from
under  half-lowered eyelids as she flicked out the tip of her tongue, showing
me her  tongue-stud, which she knew turned me on instantly.
When  we had finished coffee, Lucy said, `Katia, darling, would you please
tell Nadia  that she is to be whipped now. I know my dear Jimmy can't wait
to fuck her  little arse, too. She was too tired last night, and, anyway, we
wanted to wait  until we were all here tonight.' Katia spoke a few words to
Nadia, who simply  nodded expressionlessly.
Their  big dining room-cum-salon had a gallery running around half its
perimeter,  supported by columns, and into one of these, Jimmy had set sturdy
ringbolts  above head-height. Now Lucy took the young Romanian girl over to
this column,  leading her gently by the hand. When they stood beside the
column, Lucy reached  to the back of the brunette's neck, lifting her heavy mane
of hair out of the  way, and quickly pulled down the zipper of her little
black dress. She stood  naked save for a black satin garter belt, the black
stockings and her  stilettos.  Lucy, herself virtually  naked in the almost
non-existent dress, left her standing there while she  fetched a carpet-bag
from a cupboard I now knew well.
From  it, she produced two pairs of handcuffs, and proceeded to cuff Nadia
to the  ringbolts, so that her arms were raised above her head, and she was
facing the  column. She was just below full-stretch, thanks to the height of
her heels. Lucy  then moved her long hair out of the way over her shoulder,
caressing the girl's  breasts as she did so.
`Katia,' said Lucy, `Is she frightened?'
`I'll  ask her,' said Katia, and approached the captive girl, saying
something to her  in her own language. She replied, and Katia said, `Not really.
She doesn't think  you will hurt her.'
`Then  tell her I will. And ask her if she wants to be whipped.'
Katia  spoke to her again, and the new girl looked around, this time a bit
more  nervously, before she spoke again to Katia, at some length.
Katia  said, `It is hard to translate, but she says that, when she was
first beaten,  she was .......excited, I think, but then it was different, and not
exciting. Now  she feels....she gets.....excited again.'
`Well, let's see,' said Lucy, and, pushing Nadia's legs apart  with her
foot, she felt between them with a probing hand. `Hmmm,' she said,  `yes, I
think she likes the idea.'
Lucy  then bent down and took a leather crop out of the bag, and took care
to show it  to Nadia, who turned away almost disdainfully. Her near-naked
body presented a  very tempting target, and Lucy licked her lips as she took
careful aim, and then  brought the crop swishing through the air expertly, to
lash Nadia's soft tender  flesh just below the shoulder-blades, where Lucy
knew she would feel the agony  at its worst. The young girl held back a
stifled gasp as the crack of leather  against flesh could be heard by all, and
Katia, knowing me by now, already had  my erect cock in her hand, having
swiftly unzipped me while Lucy was taking aim.  Sandra, a little slower, on the
arm of the sofa, was kissing Jimmy deeply, aware  that he was going to need
his energies for later.
While  Lucy was taking her time about her next stroke, the blood was
already forming a  red wheal along the track of the first, so I knew she was not
sparing the  punishment, and she lashed Nadia fiercely again, making the girl
writhe and cry  out, and little, `Oh,' as the blow struck home at the left
side of her back,  just below her tits. Another red welt formed quickly,
and another lash followed  immediately, this time at the other side, and was
followed in turn by a further  little moaning cry, this time one which seemed
to carry with it something of an  amalgam of pain and ecstasy. The sound of
it prompted Lucy to set aside the  crop, and repeat her thrust into Nadia's
sex with her hand.
`She's soaking,' Lucy reported, and then said, `Just two  more, I think.'
She  thrashed her twice ferociously across her lovely, rounded buttocks,
again  leaving deep red stripes she would carry for many days, then pronounced
herself  satisfied with her handiwork. Nadia was moaning softly when Katia
left me to  release her cuffs, but was dry-eyed as Lucy led her to the sofa,
and made her  kneel on the floor in front of it, while she switched her
attention to her  husband, who was already in the arms of Sandra. Between the
two of them, his  ready weapon was soon pulled out of his trousers, and
stood, proud and stiff, as  Lucy bent to take a drop of pre-cum from his
glistening crown with her studded  tongue, and Sandra licked his whole length,
cupping his heavy balls in her  hands. Meanwhile Katia returned to me, and I
watched the unfolding scene over  her shoulder as she now lowered herself in
luscious impalement onto my impatient  shaft, her wet cunt literally pulsing
with desire from having seen her friend  suspended and whipped. As the velvet
walls of her vagina sheathed me, I groaned  with sheer joy, and saw that
Lucy was now easing Nadia's legs apart while Sandra  helped Jimmy guide his
massive cock into their new slave's waiting arsehole. She  cried out in real
agony as he penetrated her -- it must have been far worse than  the whipping
she had just received, as he forced his mighty tool past her young  sphincter,
and he fucked her brutally, as Katia rode me while I cupped her  wonderful
firm tits. Lucy was tonguing Sandra's sopping cunt, her little stud
flicking busily at my wife's erect clitoris, as she moaned with total  ecstasy.
In  the car on our way home, I held Sandra's hand and she said quietly to
me, `We  are very lucky, you know, Mark. Just a few months ago, our marriage
was going  nowhere much, then along came Katia.' She lowered her visor and
looked in the  vanity-mirror, and I took a simultaneous glance in the
rear-view mirror. Katia  was sleeping peacefully, her beautiful head on a cushion.
She was a good slave.
Procured Chapter 4 - Katia & Nadia are pierced; new  friends are made
============================================================================
====Nadia  had settled in with Jimmy and Lucy, and Jimmy told me that they
were very  satisfied with her. We were of course well pleased with Katia,
who played, by  now, an important part in our lives.
But  you always want more from slaves--it is in the very nature of things -
and, women  often being more inventive, Lucy and Sandra, over coffee, had
discussed our next  project for our two slaves. The next evening, after
dinner, Sandra waited until  Katia was clearing away the dishes, then said, `We
think we should have them  pierced, both of them.'
`Oh,  where?' I wanted to know.
`Well, tongues, at least, and Lucy thinks clitoris piercing  would be very
exciting.'
`She  should know!' I had plenty of first-hand knowledge of Lucy's
assorted metalware.  Her tongue-stud turned me on at the merest flick of her snaky
tongue, but it was  her clit-hood that wore a ring, as well as one of her
labia, rather than her  clitoris itself. I said as much to my wife.
`Her  clit is too small, she told me,' said Sandra, `and she wants us to
have a  "clit-inspection" for the two girls, so that we can see where they
can be  pierced.'
`Sounds good to me,' I said.
So it  transpired that the next evening, we drove the short distance to Lucy
's and  Jimmy's house. Sandra rang the bell, and Lucy came to the door,
dressed as  exotically as ever, in a black fishnet cat-suit, and nothing else,
so that my  eyes were inexorably drawn to the heavy iron rings dangling
from her long  nipples, which poked through the mesh, despite her tiny breasts.
She kissed us  all, flicking that tongue-stud knowingly across my teeth
when it was my turn. As  we walked down the short passageway into their lounge,
I admired Katia's rear  view. She wore a backless silk mini-dress, her long
back naked right down to the  deep brand we had had scorched into her
tender flesh some months ago, and which  she wore with pride, showing it to all
and sundry whenever her clothing  permitted. I knew her friend Nadia was
envious of it, but that Lucy didn't think  she was yet ready for branding.
Lucy  had placed two armchairs side-by-side, and Nadia was standing beside
one of  them, wearing just a short nylon robe.
`If  we want to see their clits properly,' said Lucy, `they should be
excited,  shouldn't they?' She had acquired a riding-crop from somewhere as we
entered the  room and were greeted by her husband Jimmy.
Jimmy  embraced Sandra, stroking her bare arse under her skirt for a
moment, then she  pushed him gently away, and, agreeing with Lucy, said, `As we
know, there's  nothing that excites Katia like a few strokes of the crop.'
With  that, she quickly untied the bow at the back of Katia's neck, and her
dress  dropped to the ground in a soft whisper of silk, leaving her stark
naked, but  for a pair of staggeringly high stilettos. Nadia slipped out of
her robe, and  Lucy bade the two girls kneel beside each other in the middle
of the floor. They  did so obediently, both catching their long hair up in
their hands, knowing  exactly what was expected of them.
Lucy  stepped up behind them, and lashed them, one after the other, hard
and  dispassionately, across their middle backs. Both girls flinched a little
at the  ferocity of Lucy's strokes, but neither cried out, and only after
the sixth or  seventh stinging blow, did Nadia start to moan quietly, whilst
Katia remained  quite silent, but I could detect her slightest squirming
motion--I knew she was  getting excited.
I  stood closer to Lucy, as always thrilled by her nearness, her musky
perfume, the  promise of her erotic imagination, and whispered, `They are ready!'

`And  you!' she grinned, and throwing down the whip, took the two girls by
the hand,  and sat them down, one in each armchair.
She  told them to put their legs over the arms, and they followed her
instructions.  Sandra and I, as we had previously agreed, `inspected' Nadia's
pussy. Sandra ran  a hand through the young girl's soaking crack, and murmured
her  pleasure.
`She  wants to be fucked, Mark,' she said.
`I  know, but it's her clit we are supposed to be looking at,' I reminded
her.
And  it was impossible to ignore that organ, which was like a small prick,
quite the  most prominent I had seen. I knelt in front of the chair, nuzzled
Nadia's  sopping cunt, and took the nub between my teeth.
She  cried out instantly, and Sandra, on the floor beside me, by now had my
cock deep  in her throat.
`I  cum, I cum now,' yelled Nadia, whose English could just about cope
with that  much, and she screamed as if she was being tortured as a mighty
orgasm wracked  her slender body.
Meanwhile, Jimmy was fucking Katia for all he was worth,  pumping in and
out as she had her long legs wrapped around his waist, and Lucy's  long
forefinger rammed hard up his arsehole.
I  came, copiously, in my wife's throat soon after Jimmy had shot his load
into  Katia.
`That  settles it then,' said Lucy, a little while later, as we drank our
coffee,  `Nadia will have her clit pierced, Katia, her hood!'
`OK,'  I said, `do you have a practitioner?'
`Yes,' said Jimmy, `we know a shop, very clean and  professional, where we
had Lucy done.'
So it  was decided that we should go the following Saturday, and we rang
and made an  appointment.
That  Saturday, despite the fact that she had been so cruelly branded,
Katia was quite  nervous as we went around in our car to meet Lucy, Jimmy and
Nadia. We all met  up in a coffee bar close to the shop, and trooped along to
the place  accordingly. I thought it looked quite seedy from the outside,
but once inside,  we were welcomed by a pleasant enough girl, who, oddly
enough, seemed not to  have much in the way of obvious piercing. She showed us
into a waiting room,  where we amused ourselves looking at catalogues of
various decorations  available, and then a door opened, and a different girl, in
a white coat, told  us all to come through into another room. An older
woman, probably about forty,  but still attractive, also in a white coat, was
perched on a stool, next to what  looked like a dentist's chair, but equipped
with stirrups, like those used by  gynecologists, which could be swung into
place if needed.
She  had been forewarned as to our requirements, and said simply, `Right,
tongues  first, I think!'
Both  girls obediently presented their tongues, and, in no time, they were
the  possessors of little silver barbell studs in their tongues. Both
declared that  they hadn't really felt much, but the woman warned them that they
should use a  mouthwash, and avoid oral sex for four days.
`OK,'  said the woman, when that was concluded, `who's first for the
chair?'
Katia  volunteered, and lowered herself into the armchair.
`Take  your panties off, dear,' said the woman.
For  an answer, Katia raised her tiny miniskirt, baring her shaven pussy.
`Oh,  I see,' said the other, and gently helped Katia place her ankles in
the  stirrups. The rest of us stood by and watched as the woman, who now
introduced  herself as Kathy, stroked Katia's labia with a tender, almost
caressing touch,  teasing up her clitoris-hood. We saw the moisture glistening in
Katia's pink  slit as she became aroused at the older woman's touch, and
when she took hold  off the little flap between thumb and forefinger, our
slave gave a little  involuntary moan. Then she picked up a pointed instrument,
and, without further  ado, pierced Katia's delicate flesh in one quite
rapid movement.
`Oh!'  cried Katia, but before she had chance to protest further, she had
a silver ring  we had already chosen depending from her hood, and Kathy had
turned her  attention to her left pussy-lip, where we had agreed she should
have another,  smaller ring fitted. Although this took a little longer,
Katia said later that  it hurt less, and insisted on having a look at a fine
silver chain she would be  able to wear, clipped between the two rings, when
the soreness had subsided  `after about five days' according to Kathy.
Then  it was Nadia's turn, and, still testing out her tongue-stud, which
must have  felt alien in her mouth, she positioned herself in the chair, and
raised her  skirt, again revealing her naked mound.
`So  this is the one with the prominent clit?' asked Kathy.
`Yes,' said Lucy, `You'll have to stroke her a little, but  she excites
easily.'
Kathy  needed no further encouragement, and, getting down from her stool,
knelt between  Nadia's slender legs, and pulled her pussy-lips apart with the
fingers of both  hands. Nadia smiled and, reaching down, plunged a finger
deep into her own cunt,  then withdrew it and held it towards Kathy, who took
it in her mouth, then,  unable to resist, locked her mouth down onto the
Romanian girl's pussy, and  thrust an eager tongue deep inside her. Nadia
moaned with pleasure, as Kathy's  tongue made its way upwards, right through her
crack. The older woman's teeth  closed around Nadia's now-erect clitoris,
and it took her a visible effort of  will to drag herself away and reach for
the requisite tool, in order to inflict  the piercing on Nadia.
When  she did so, Nadia screamed loudly, but told us afterwards that she
had  experienced a fantastic orgasm as her clit was actually penetrated by the
cruel  implement. Then she had the tiny ring fitted, and we chose the
further adornment  she would eventually wear. For Nadia, Lucy had decided she
should have three  links of chain hanging loose from her clitoris-ring.
For  several days, our lives went on quietly, and our slaves had to get
over the  trauma of being pierced. Lucy helped a lot, as she herself had had
the  experience, and could assist them in avoiding infection, and advise as to
when  they could start to do things normally again.
When  Katia was back in action, kissing her was a whole new deal, and my
first blow  job from her was very pleasurable, but the real beneficiary of her
tongue-stud  was Sandra, who said that being tongued by her was fantastic.
When her clit-hood  was healed, I gave her the delicate silver chain, a
couple of inches long, to  clip between her labia and the hood, and it looked
wonderful hanging there. When  we took her to our favorite restaurant, I made
sure another couple sitting  across from us got a brief glimpse of her naked
pussy, with her new adornment,  and enjoyed their curious gaze as we got up
and left. They were a good-looking  couple, I had seen around the area a
few times, and I decided I was going to  repeat the procedure the next time we
coincided. Sandra was in full  agreement.
I  didn't have long to wait, in the event. Two days later, we were all
three of us  in a coffee bar quite close to home, when in walked the same
couple. Sandra and  Katia were perched on high stools, both wearing full pleated
miniskirts, with,  of course, nothing underneath, their feet, in stilettos,
hooked over the stools'  footrests. Katia wore a silk jersey top, through
which her firm breasts were  more than shadows, the shape of her nipples
thrusting at the thin material.  Sandra wore a peasant blouse, her ample  breasts
also unfettered. I stood beside them, as there was no seat  available.
The  young couple came in just as another couple vacated a table nearby,
and sat  down. They were just below us.
The  young guy, who was a blond about twenty-five, couldn't take his eyes
off  Katia--it wasn't easy, I knew--and when I whispered to her to smile at
him, she  did so, and he almost creamed his trousers. She was olive-skinned,
with big  brown eyes, and wore a classy trouser-suit. Her black hair was
swept back in a  pony-tail. I saw her look with annoyance at her husband--or
boyfriend--and thought  she was about to admonish him for looking at Katia. I
stepped in.
Bending down to them, I said, `Excuse me, don't we know you?'
`I  don't think so,' she said, in an accent that wasn't English.
In  for a penny, in for a pound, I thought, and insisted, dredging back
memories of  where I had seen them. `I was sure you worked at the Patents
Office, no?' I had  mentioned the biggest employer for miles around.
`I  don't,' she said, `but Gavin does.' Phew!
And  she was smiling! `We haven't lived here long,' she said, `and don't
really know  anybody. We lived in Gibraltar before. I am Spanish, but Gavin
is English, of  course.'
That  she wanted to talk was evident, and Sandra now joined in, and said, `
Look, I am  Sandra, and this is my husband Mark, who was so rude to talk to
strangers -- and  this is our ...er servant, Katia. Why don't you come and
have a coffee at our  house? It's just around the corner.'
`You  are not rude at all,' she said, `and my name is Lidia. We shall be
very pleased  to come with you.'
We  finished our own coffees quickly and I left a note to cover the bill,
then we  all trooped off to our house.
`Make  yourselves at home,' I said, as they entered our lounge, and I took
Katia on one  side as she was going into the kitchen to get the coffees.
Gavin sat in one  armchair and I sat in the other, whilst Sandra and Lidia
shared the sofa.  When Katia came back, she put the tray  of coffee things down
on the low table, and perched on the arm of Gavin's chair,  where I knew
her nearness would be intoxicating, her naked thigh brushing his  arm.
`You  know I work at the Patents Office,' said Gavin, `what, may I be
cheeky enough to  ask, do you do, Mark, to afford a lovely servant?'
I  laughed, `Katia isn't really a servant, Gavin,' I said, `she's our
slave!'
Lidia  whistled softly, `Does that mean what I think it means?'
`That  depends on what you think,' I said, evasively.
`She  does everything you want her to?'
`Yes.'
`And  Katia? What does she think to that?'
`You  must ask her,' said Sandra.
At  that Katia spoke, `I am very happy with Mark and Sandra. I am their
slave as  long as they want me.'
`I am  absolutely fascinated,' said Gavin, `I've read about such things,
but didn't  think they really happened. Tell me, do you.....? Do
you.........? I don't know  how to put this.'
`If  you are asking if we whip her, the answer is yes,' I said. `Show
them, Katia,  please.'
Katia  stood gracefully and lifted her top, showing the fading welts left
over from her  most recent lashing, and mischievously pulled down the
waistband of her skirt an  inch or two, so they could get a brief glimpse of the
brand of which she was so  proud, etched into the flesh of her lower back,
just above the cleft of her  buttocks.
I  glanced over at Lidia, and she was spellbound, her dark brown eyes never
leaving  the elegant form of Katia, and I noticed that Sandra had taken her
hand in hers,  and was gently kneading it.
But  Gavin was eager to continue the conversation. `Do you have, er....like
a circle  of friends, or anything, other people, who do this--this sort of
.......?' His  sentence tailed off lamely, and I helped him out.
`We  know another couple who have a slave--she is a friend of Katia's--but
they enjoyed  our type of lifestyle before they got Nadia.'
Sandra said, `Why, you are trembling, Lidia!'
The  Spanish girl pulled her hand from my wife's and said, `Was I? Yes, I
suppose I  was. The idea of the whip excites me, excites me very much.'
Emboldened, Gavin asked Katia quietly if her piercing had  been painful,
and she smiled back at him, saying, in her accented English, `Not  really, but
I was sore afterwards.' I think he wanted her to show him her  rings.
By  the time we had finished our coffees, and taken a couple of brandies,
Sandra had  invited the couple to dinner the next evening, and, as she
escorted Lidia to the  door, she had her arm around the brunette's shoulders, and
was talking quietly  to her.
`What  did you tell her?' I wanted to know.
`Wouldn't you like to know?' she said.
Eight  o'clock, and the doorbell rang promptly, announcing the arrival of
our new  friends. Sandra, now she had lost a lot of weight, looked stunning
as she  finished the table setting, dressed in a long black transparent gown
with  spaghetti straps, through which her rouged nipples protruded
invitingly. Her  shaven pubes were coyly protected under the sheer dress by a pair of
diaphanous  panties, tied in bows at the sides by huge black ribbons. She
wore black  stilettos mules.
Katia  went to answer the doorbell, wearing a yellow silk halter-neck
dress, backless  right down to the cleft of her buttocks, where I could see her
brand as she  walked down the passageway, taking tiny steps due to the
extreme tightness  around the ankles of her long skirt. Her platinum blonde hair
was drawn up into  a French knot.
When  Katia ushered our guests into the lounge, I saw that Gavin, like
myself, had  gone for `smart/casual' and was wearing chinos and a button-down
striped shirt,  whilst Lidia was completely transformed from the `
businesswoman' image of  yesterday. She was wearing a high-necked, long-sleeved, short
tight dress in a  shade of pale blue, which may have been silk, but was more
likely man-made  fiber. It fitted her like a glove, and there was no room
for doubt that she had  not a stitch on underneath it. Now I knew what Sandra
had been telling her the  day before, as they left the house! I drank in
the lovely sight of her. She had  also worn a pair of high heels, and had
draped a thin gold chain around her  slender waist. Her long black hair was
brushed out to a silken sheen. She had  gone to trouble, too, with her nails,
which were probably porcelain, and long,  long. There and then, I decided I
was going to fuck her before the night was  through.
Katia  served us our meal, which Sandra and she had prepared, and we ate it
with lively  conversation. I was aware that Gavin had the terrible hots for
Katia, and had  placed him next to her at the table. He tried hard not to
make it obvious when  Katia guided his hand to her shaven pussy, with its
lewd adornments--she was  well-practiced at keeping a straight face by now. I
contented myself by playing  `footsie' with Lidia under the table, and her
hooded eyelids were enough to  betray her excitement, when Sandra, beside her,
stroked her thigh. Throughout  the meal, in fact, Sandra's nipples had been
a focus of everyone's  attention--even mine--so erotic a sight were they
under the transparent black  material.
After  coffee, Sandra announced that we should punish Katia for her brazen
attitude the  day before. It was obviously a pretext, and Katia did not
appear to object, but  Lidia had other ideas.
`Sandra,' she said, `Would you consider whipping me instead?  I don't
think Katia deserves to be punished today.'
Sandra agreed, almost too readily, and Lidia stood in front  of us, not
knowing what was expected of her.
`Strip!' I said, and she reached behind her and pulled down  the long
zipper of her dress, revealing her smooth, naked back. Wriggling it off  her
shoulders, pert breasts came into view, her nipples hard and excited,  perched
on big, dark, protuberant aureoles. The dress fell past a young slender
waist, and she maneuvered it past the gold chain which encircled her waist,
leaving it in place. Then she pushed it down over her hips, letting it slide
to  the floor. She had shaved off her pubic hair--later, Sandra told me that
she had  advised her to do so - and neat dark-colored labia could now be
seen, guarding  her secret crack.
`Now  kneel,' ordered Sandra, and fetched the riding crop from its
permanent place on  the wall above the sideboard.
`I  need you to ask me to hurt you, Lidia,' said Sandra.
`Yes,' she said.
`No,  you need to ask,' repeated my wife.
`Please hurt me, Sandra, whip me and hurt me!'
Sandra tested her arm with the crop, swishing it through the  air, then
told me to hold her hair out of the way. It was an excuse to touch  her, and I
knelt beside her, whisked up her long mane in both hands, and  arranged it
down over her breasts, letting my hands linger over her taut  nipples. I took
her cool, slightly trembling, hands in mine.
I  glanced over to the sofa, and saw that Gavin was sat with Katia, both
watching  as we prepared to punish his wife, but Katia's hand had already
lowered his  zipper, an was working to free an almighty erection from his
boxers.
Sandra, now ready, decided where she was going to strike, and  drew back
her arm, then there was a familiar rush of air, and a sudden  `crack'.
`Oh!'  A half-sigh, half-moan escaped Lidia's lips as the whip struck her
upper back,  and her grip tightened on my hands. Sandra drew back her arm
and lashed her  harder, and lower. `Crack,' and another moan from Lidia as
she squirmed a little  this time. A third blow was already on its way, and,
this time, she pulled me  towards her, and, her lips open, kissed me hard, her
tongue snaking into my  mouth. It was still there as my wife thrashed her
again, this time across the  top of her buttocks, making rake my back with
her long nails.
Three  more quite cruel strokes, and Sandra was satisfied, and threw down
the crop. She  joined us on the carpet, pushing Lidia gently onto her now
sore back, causing  her to groan out loud. Sandra then eased the Spanish girl's
legs apart and ran  her hand through her crack, feeling its wetness.
`Drenched!' she announced, `take her, Mark, you know you want  to!'
With  that, she pulled down my zipper, and released my burgeoning shaft
from its  prison, giving it a loving stroke, then pulled a cushion from a
chair, and eased  it under Lidia's damaged arse.
Without preliminaries, I penetrated her, driving my eager rod  right in up
to the hilt, my balls hammering against her arse as my crown reached  the
very neck of her womb. She gripped me with her agile cunt-muscles, her  vagina
sheathing me like a silken tube as I drove in and out. She came at least
twice (I later learned she had also cum twice whilst being whipped) and when
Sandra knew I was almost about to cum, she rammed a thin dildo hard up my
arsehole to heighten my pleasure, as I shot my steaming hot load int0 Lidia'
s  soaking cunt.
Gavin, meantime, was being ridden by Katia on the sofa. She  was naked, and
had straddled him, her brand a pretty sight as she finished him  off.
`We  shall have to punish her, later, I think,' said Sandra.
`Tomorrow, eh?' I suggested.
Later, they all showered and dressed, and sat down to a  drink.
`Mark,' said Gavin, at length, `I can't tell you how grateful  I am for
your invitation tonight, and I know that goes for my wife. But I can't  help
feeling just a weeny bit envious of your lifestyle. You have already told
us about the times you share with your friends, Lucy and, er...sorry, I
forget  the guy's name.'
`Jimmy,' supplied Sandra
`....and Jimmy,' he went on, `and, well, it all seems so,  well, so ideal.
What I want to know is this: how did you find Katia in the first  place,
Mark?'
`I  didn't,' I said, `Sandra procured her for me.'
I  realized, as they left, that I had sewn the seeds of an idea for them.
They  invited us back to their home for a meal, and said they would like to
become  close friends in the future.
The  following day Lucy called to say that Nadia was pestering her to have
herself  branded, like Katia, but that they couldn't afford the trip to
Germany that we  had all taken in order to have Katia marked. She wondered if we
could devise the  means to do a DIY job? Although Sandra was dubious, I
thought it should be  feasible, and said I'd look into it.
The  immediate future was looking interesting, to say the least of it.
Procured Chapter 5 - Nadia is marked, and Lidia gets a new  slave
============================================================================
====I  sat in my favorite armchair, reading the newspaper, but a serious
distraction  invaded my eyes, in the form of Katia, who was laying the table
for dinner. When  she leaned over the table to reach something in its centre,
her tiny pleated  skirt rose up to the lace tops of the white stockings
which sheathed her long,  long legs. I knew that she would be wearing no
panties under her skirt, and my  cock stiffened, unbidden, at the thought.
`Come  here, Katia!' I said, and our slave turned and smiled at me,
whisking her long,  fine, platinum-blonde hair out of her eyes, then walked over
to me, her high,  metallic heels clicking on the parquet floor. She stood
close in front of me,  and slowly smoothed her skirt up, until her clean-shaven
pussy came into view,  the little chain dangling between the two rings she
had had fitted, one in her  clit-hood, the other in her labia.
Knowing what I liked, she reached down and stretched her  labia wide with
the first two fingers of one hand, exposing her glistening pink  cunt for me.
Her eyes never left mine as she opened her mouth a fraction,  showing me
the tip of her pierced tongue.
I now  had an erection like a stallion, and freed it from my trousers.
Katia straddled  me, and, still holding her labia apart with one hand, grasped
my rod with the  other, and guided me home, settling down on me so that I
penetrated her with my  full length, then gripping me tightly with her agile
vaginal muscles, which she  knew drove me mad. I soon had her silk blouse
undone, and kneaded her firm,  pointed breasts as she started to move, gently at
first, riding me so that our  rhythms matched perfectly. When I was almost
at the point of abandon, she eased  me out of her, and, holding the base of
my shaft, shifted position, so that I  slid easily into her arsehole, the
new tightness sheathing my tool for it whole  length, peristalsis driving me
to a frenzy.
`Fuck  me, Mark,' she said, through gasping breaths, `fuck my arse!'
I  drove at her now, my buttocks ramming up hard from the chair as I tried
to get  as deep within her as possible, my pounding strokes becoming
frantic, then I  drove one final great thrust, and came in a great flood, deep in
her  bowel.
She  lifted off, and went down on her knees, licking my cock clean, with
every sign  of enjoying the taste.
`You're a wonderful slave, Katia,' I told her, as I stroked  her silken
hair. She purred like a kitten.
Looking up, I saw that my wife Sandra was stood in the  doorway watching.
`Is  that better?' she asked.
`You're not jealous, all of a sudden, are you?' I  enquired.
`Of  course not, darling,' she said, `after all, you lent me to Gavin last
night.
No, I  was just thinking that Katia's arse looks as if she's never been
whipped.
I  think it's time she was punished.'
`Then  why don't we whip her tonight? And you can take her to bed later -- I
'm  knackered.'
Sandra walked over and kissed me lightly on the forehead,  saying, `That
would be nice, and you can recover for tomorrow.'
I had  forgotten that we had a big day lined up -- it was Saturday, and we
had arranged  to help Jimmy and Lucy in their quest to have their slave Nadia
marked.  Our new friends Gavin and Lidia were  also invited, and it
promised to be an interesting event. Lucy, like myself,  enjoyed ritual, and had
been describing the afternoon she planned as a  `ceremony.' But that was all
in the future, and as we sat down to dinner, Katia  joined us at the table,
having changed into a short, silky, dark blue dress,  loose, with a gathered
neckline, which left her breasts free to jiggle about,  her pert nipples
distractingly obvious. Sandra had sheathed herself in black  latex, a
skin-tight, knee-length dress which molded her curves to perfection.  Looking from
one to the other of them, I couldn't help reflecting on my good  fortune in
being able to fuck these two fantastic women whenever I wished. We  chatted
amiably over dinner -- nobody listening in could have ever imagined that
Katia was about to be cruelly whipped -- and when Sandra told Katia what we had
decided, she merely smiled prettily, and said, `Thank you, that will be
nice.'
When  we had finished, and Katia had cleared the table, Sandra told her to
go and get  ready. She needed no further instruction -- rituals were by now
well established,  something Lucy had taught us -- and went to her room to
prepare for her  whipping.
My  wife, a dab-hand on the sewing machine, had made a dress for the
occasion, to be  worn when Katia presented herself for punishment. It was a long
white gown of  the sheerest nylon (`curtain material,' said Sandra) with
long sleeves tied at  the wrists by ribbons, another of which circled her
waist, and fur-trimmed at  neck and hem. Its effect, as ever, was startling -- her
gorgeous slim body could  be seen in intimate detail through the
transparent material, but its pristine  whiteness lent her a somehow virginal air, her
long platinum blonde hair now  twisted up into a French Knot. This `air'
was just a little tainted by the sight  of the little silver chain, clearly
visible when she walked, dangling from the  rings in her labia.
I was  very pleased with the whipping post I had designed and constructed
in our
`playroom.' It took the form of an inverted, underlined `Y,'  the
underline being
a  strong divided wooden bar, with holes for the wrists, like in stocks.
The Y
allowed for the captive's legs to be held wide apart, ankles  trapped in
broad
leather straps, whilst another strap could be buckled tightly  around the
victim's waist. With her wrists snared in the `stocks' she  would be
entirely
vulnerable. I had made it with curved
Timber, so that the victim's buttocks would be thrust out  towards the
captor. We were going to try it out for the first time, but Katia  was
surprisingly calm when she first saw where she was to be punished. She  stripped off
her gown, and, as I arranged her on the new post, I couldn't help  running
my finger around the brand, deeply scorched into the flesh of her lower
back, remembering the thrill of that weekend in Germany when she had been
marked. She looked at me, twisting her head around, helpless in her bonds, and
said, `I love you, Mark!'
`We  both love you too, Katia darling,' I responded, stroking her cheek
tenderly.
Sandra came up behind me, a leather flogger in her hand. `She  looks lovely
on your new contraption, doesn't she?' she said.
I  nodded, and Sandra bent to talk to Katia.
`You'd like me to hurt you, wouldn't you, darling?' she  asked.
`Oh  yes, Sandra. Please hurt me,' said Katia, understanding the protocol.
Sandra laid the flogger on her slender white back, then  raised it and
brought its thin, supple leather thongs swishing down to land with  a crack on
our slave's tender flesh. Again and again she thrashed her with the  flogger,
criss-crossing her back and buttocks with a veritable spaghetti of red
lines, but Katia neither flinched nor did she utter a sound until my wife put
down the flogger and felt between Katia's wide-open legs.
`You're nice and wet, my dear,' she said, `do you want to  cum?'
`Yes,  Sandra,' she said, `but...'
`But  you need me to hurt you more, don't you, you little slut?'
`Yes  please,' she murmured, and Sandra went to the wall-rack and took
down a thin  cane. Testing it through the air, she walked back to Katia, drew
back her arm,  and lashed her with all her strength across her lovely rounded
 buttocks.
At  last Katia moaned, but I knew it was moan, not just of pain and agony,
but of  ecstasy, as her orgasm overtook her, and the evidence of this ran in
a milky  stream down her thighs.
After  she had thanked Sandra, I released her, and let Sandra tend to her
sore back,  then I told her to come to our room when she was ready. When she
did so, she was  naked, and I pulled her onto the bed, to lay between us.
She grimaced when I  touched her back, but she took my prick gently into her
mouth, grazing my crown  with her tongue-stud, then guided me into my wife's
waiting cunt, massaging my  balls as I pounded her. We both came together,
then I slept, as Sandra went down  and started to lick Katia's pussy.
Next  day we set off in mid-morning to Lucy and Jimmy's. Sandra wore a
harem-suit in  peach organdie she had made under her coat -- she had had to wear
a coat, in  spite of the warm weather, as the trouser-suit was translucent,
and had a  lace-fringed opening at the crotch -- she looked fantastic in it.
Katia insisted  on wearing a short, backless, floral-patterned silk dress
with a flared  skirt.  She always liked to show off  her wounds when she had
been whipped, and I noted that her dress also revealed  her brand. When she
walked between us, down the garden path to where my car was  parked, I
glanced to one side, and saw that an elderly neighbor was watching,  quite
distracted from his gardening.
When  we arrived at Lucy's, Gavin and Lidia were already there, Lidia
magnificent in a  short, loose-fitting, mid-blue silky pleated dress which fell
directly from  neckline to hem -- a hem I instantly wanted to lift! Her legs
were bare, and I  suspected that all she wore apart from the dress was her
pair of metal-heeled  stilettos. Lucy, whose home we were in, had not seen fit
to dress as if she were  going to be seen by the public, and wore a
trademark fishnet sheath, through  which every detail of her body could be seen,
the almost non-existent breasts  with the rings dangling from her nipples, and
the chain which she liked to wear  connecting the ring through her
pussy-lip to the one in her navel. I sat with  Jimmy and Gavin, chugging beers, and
taking in the sight our wives and Katia  presented, until Nadia, Lucy and
Jimmy's slave, appeared, going straight to  Katia, who kissed her at length.
Nadia  was dressed in a short, transparent black nightdress, with a lace
trim at the  neck and hem, and looked very nervous, watching out of the corner
of her eye as  Lucy got Sandra to help her prepare the barbecue in their
secluded, walled  garden. Food had already been laid out -- a cold lunch --
because the barbecue  would today serve a different purpose. In it was to be
heated the iron which  would be used to brand Nadia!
We  all greeted Nadia as if it were her birthday. As I embraced her, I was
acutely  aware of her pointed breasts thrusting through the sheer nylon, and
when she  turned away to peck Gavin on the cheek, the short chain dangling
from her  clit-ring swung around between her legs. She then went to chat to
Katia, and we  were all called to help ourselves to the plates of delicious
oriental food that  Lucy had provided, `while the barbecue gets going,' she
said. I noticed that  Nadia was either too excited or too scared to eat.
When  we had eaten our fill, Lucy passed amongst us, taking each of us by
the hand to  led us to where she had decided we should be seated. Three
garden sofas had been  placed around the barbecue, and Lucy took my hand, and led
me to the one already  occupied by Lidia. Sandra was placed beside Gavin
and Jimmy had Katia for  company.
Jimmy  had set up the sound system, and Lucy now slipped in a new CD -- of
vaguely  ecclesiastic music.
`This  is so exciting, isn't it?' breathed Lidia, into my ear, as Lucy
beckoned Nadia  to come to her, and the slavegirl obeyed, diffidently and
hesitantly. I noticed  that she had set up the barbecue beside a gnarled old pine
tree, from whose  branches hung a length of rope. It was no accident, and
Lucy helped Nadia off  with her nightgown, then tied her wrists together with
the rope. She went around  behind the tree, pulled on an unseen end of the
rope, and Nadia's arms were  quickly dragged up above her head, until she
could just touch the ground with  the tips of her toes.
Lucy  walked away, and from behind the picnic tables, fetched a long,
cruel-looking  bull whip, which she cracked like a circus performer.
`God,  she's going to whip her first!' whispered Lidia, and I felt her
hand covering  the bulge in my chinos.
Without preliminaries, Lucy stood back, eroticism personified  in her
fishnet sheath, and sent the long lash snaking towards her suspended  slave. She
was a complete expert with the whip, and its knotted tip caught Nadia  just
below her left breast, the lash falling on the flesh of her slim back. A
tiny trickle of blood appeared from where the knot had bit her. Nadia
stoically  remained silent, looking proudly across at us, and Lidia was busy
releasing my  burgeoning erection from its prison. A second stroke whistled through
the air  and took Nadia lower down than the first, causing her to gasp, and
my cock to  leap as Lidia now held it in her long-nailed hand.
`Mmm,' murmured Lidia, and as Lucy announced that she was  `just warming up
' her slave, I glanced around. Gavin was busy, his hand playing  with Sandra
's pussy through the gap in her suit, while she was on the point of
treating him to one of her fantastic blowjobs. Katia was straddled across  Jimmy's
lap, her back to him, so that she could see her friend's fate. Jimmy's
hands were on her lovely breasts under her dress, and, the way she squirmed on
 him, it wasn't going to be long before he was inside her.
Lucy  had finished her `warm-up routine,' and was busy driving two
tent-pegs into the  lawn. To these, she tied Nadia's ankles. `We can't have her
wriggling around,'  she explained, then, to Nadia, `It's time, my dear. I'm
going to hurt you more  than you've ever been hurt. You know that, don't
you?'
`Yes,  Miss Lucy,' muttered Nadia.
`But  you still want me to do it, don't you?'
`Yes,  please, Miss Lucy,' she replied, her voice a little louder this
time.
Lucy  ran a hand down the girl's flank, to her firm, round buttock, where
she lingered  in one spot. She glanced across for Jimmy's approval, and he
managed to nod,  despite the fact that Katia was in the act of guiding his
rampant cock into her  wet cunt, impaling herself slowly. Lidia was now licking
pre-cum off the tip of  my own knob, and, without looking, I knew that
Sandra would be attending to  Gavin's needs.
Lucy  had moved across to the glowing barbecue, and was inspecting the iron
she had  taken from the coals. Nodding her satisfaction, she moved quickly
across to  Nadia, whose eyes were wide with terror, despite her request to
be  marked.
Lucy  said, `Forgive me, Nadia!' and plunged the red-hot brand straight to
its target  on her slave's tender buttock. Nadia shrieked -- an awful,
piercing yell -- and  there was a sizzling noise, accompanied by the smell of
burning flesh, as the  young girl slumped in her bonds, her head hanging down
to her breast. As this  happened, I came, in hot gushes, deep into Lidia's
grateful throat -- I didn't  care, at that moment, what the others were up to.
Lucy  took her slave down with infinite care, laid her face down on a rug,
and went to  fetch her medicine chest. I knew she would take good care of
the girl, whom both  she and Jimmy thought a great deal of.
Sated, we all sat around talking for most of the afternoon,  and Lidia and
Gavin told us of their fruitless search for a slave of their  own.
Three  days later, we called around to see how Nadia was recovering, and
she was her  chirpy self, only sorry we couldn't see her new brand, as it was
covered by  Lucy's sterile dressing. She said she would be very proud of it,
as, indeed,  Katia was of hers. When I came home from work the next day,
Sandra showed me a  letter she had received from her niece in Canada.
Apparently her parents,  Sandra's brother Neil and his wife, had split up. She said
she had nowhere to go  -- could she come and stay for a while?
`Well, can she?' asked Sandra.
`It's  up to you, love,' I said, `your niece!'
`She  can come as far as I'm concerned,' said my wife, `but I don't know
what she'll  make of our lifestyle, do you?'
`She'll have to take us as she finds us,' I said -- platitudes  come
cheap.
So  three weeks later, we were at Heathrow, waiting with a piece of
cardboard,
`Cynthia
Chandler' printed on it with felt-tip.
When  all the passengers from her flight seemed to have gone through, a
scruffy-looking girl with straggly dark blonde hair, wearing what appeared to
be  an army greatcoat, and towing a big suitcase, stood on her own, peering
around.
`Cynthia?' I called.
`Shit  no,' said the girl, coming towards us, `nobody calls me that. Cindy'
s my name --  and you'll be uncle Mark?'
`And  nobody calls me that either,' I said, `just plain Mark, OK?'
She  looked even more like an unmade bed close up, as I took her suitcase
and she  told us she had been searched in Customs -- it was hardly surprising,
I  thought.
Cindy  was sullen and uncommunicative as we drove home, showed neither
gratitude --  which we didn't want anyway -- nor any other emotion when we showed
her to her  nicely appointed room. She came down to dinner in a pair of
ratty jeans and a  grubby sweat-shirt, and hardly spoke until Katia appeared
with steaming plates  of a goulash she had made.
`Katia, I'd like you to meet Cindy,' said Sandra, and Cindy  looked Katia
up and down, then looked at both of us in turn, a question forming  in her
mind.
`Katia lives with us,' I told her, somehow reluctant to  introduce the
concept of Katia's real status to our new guest.
`Oh,'  she replied, but her eyes seldom left Katia during the meal.
Looking from one to the other, the contrast in two girls of  roughly the
same age was amazing. Katia, her platinum blonde hair brushed out to  a silky
sheen, long silver ear rings brushing her shoulders, was fantastic. She
wore a plain, peach-colored silk blouse, under which her firm, unfettered
breasts were obvious, the shape of their long nipples making indents in the soft
 silk. Her make-up was immaculate. When she spoke, her tongue-stud flicked
out  briefly, bringing to mind the other, more arcane piercings I tried not
to think  about -- at least until I had eaten. Cindy, on the other hand,
looked like  someone you might find begging on the streets; lank, unwashed hair
hanging down  around what I thought might be a pretty face, if she ever took
the trouble to  smile. She wore no make-up, and had on the same dowdy green
sweat-shirt she had  worn when she arrived at the airport. She wasn't
exactly hostile, but maintained  a sullen introspection, refusing to enter into
conversation which required more  than a `yes' or `no.'
When  we finished our meal, and went into the lounge for coffee, Cindy
uttered her  longest sentence of the evening: `Guess I'll turn in now, I'm
bushed,' she said.  We said goodnight to her back.
We  all sat together on the big sofa, Katia between the two of us, her long
legs  encased in white, lace-topped stockings, her little silk miniskirt
riding up  above their tops, to reveal an inch of firm white flesh. As ever, I
couldn't  resist sliding my hand up her leg, soon locating the moist heaven
of her pussy,  while Sandra had a hand under Katia's blouse, massaging her
lovely young  breasts.
Suddenly, Cindy burst in upon the scene!
`I  can't find the light-switch in the ba.....,' she began, then took in
the tableau  we must have been presenting, turned, and fled.
Sandra quickly composed herself, stood and went after her  niece. I was
distracted too, and Katia and I tried to listen as voices floated  downstairs
to us -- to no avail.
After  a while, Sandra came down, smiling.
`Cindy OK now?' I asked.
`Yes,  she just couldn't find the pull-switch in the bathroom,' said my
wife,
`and  then she came down and saw us...'
`What  did she say?' I wanted to know.
`She  was curious about Katia,' said Sandra, `so I told her.'
`What  did you tell her?'
`That  she was our slave. She looked at me to see if I was joking, I think,
then just  nodded and shut herself in her room.'
After  passing a very pleasant half hour with Katia, we went to bed. I
listened  carefully at Cindy's door, and thought I heard her crying softly, but
decided  against doing anything about it -- she would have to adjust, and it
would take  some time.
Next  morning, however, she looked a little brighter, dressed in a fresh
pair of jeans  and a clean t-shirt, though her hair was the same mess as the
previous night,  and she wore no make-up. Regarding her over breakfast, I
thought she was  basically pretty, and much could be done for her with a visit
to the hairdresser  and some attention in general. When she had finished her
coffee and toast,  Sandra said, `Look, Cindy, Mark is at work, and I'll be
busy, but Katia is going  shopping, to the local commercial centre. Perhaps
you'd like to go with  her?'
`OK,'  she replied, without enthusiasm, then fell silent.
A  while later, Katia was ready to go, dressed in a dark blue pleated
miniskirt and  a peasant blouse, her long shapely legs clad in shiny black nylon,
strappy  stilettos on her feet. Cindy got up obediently to join her, and I
marveled again  at the contrast between two young girls, finding myself
imagining Cindy  transformed -- could she be?
Cindy  got languidly to her feet, looking Katia up and down, an expression
of disdain  on her face, and followed her out of the door. I looked at
Sandra, and she  sighed, spreading her arms in a gesture of helplessness.
But I  think it's time I let Cindy herself pick up the narrative:-
CINDY'S STORY.
I  guess I was a `little girl lost' that morning -- my chief thought being;
`Fuck,  what have I gotten myself into?' Still feeling a bit woozy from
jet-lag, which  I'd read about but never before experienced, my body wasn't
too sure whether it  was lunchtime or whatever. And I had agreed to go
shopping with this incredibly  beautiful whore!
Looking back over the last weeks, I could just as easily have  stayed in
Canada, getting some kind of job in a store or something, and finding
someplace to live, perhaps share with one of my friends, but when my Dad and  that
bitch split up, he had suggested I come over -- and that was  that.
But  Sandra's house -- well, that was something else! I'd never seen
anything like the  scene I had witnessed the night before, then Sandra just came
out and told me  that Katia was a `slave.' What the fuck was that all about?
I had been upset, I  supposed, the night before, but I woke up feeling a
bit different. Different,  how? Excited? Well, perhaps a bit. Curious? Sure.
I  followed the blonde chick's legs down the garden path -- her legs were
something,  I had to say -- and felt a twinge of...of what? Envy? No, not
really -- I had good  legs anyway, I thought. No, I decided, it was just that I
was dressed in what  I'd always thought was a normal way -- and.....and, well,
just get an eyeful of  her!
And,  as we walked along to the bus-stop, that's just what a lot of guys
did, you  couldn't help noticing.
Her  English was a bit strange, and she had difficulty, I thought, with my
Canadian  accent, but she seemed nice enough, and we managed to talk OK,
mainly about the  weather, slow bus-rides -- stuff like that.
`Do  we need a trolley,' I asked her, at the main entrance of the big
Commercial  Centre.
`No,'  she replied, `Sandra does all the food shopping by Internet. I'm
just buying  clothes and things.'
If  she's a slave, I thought to myself, it's not such a bad life -- she
gets to go  shopping for `clothes and things,' and doesn't have to trail
around the  supermarket. The whole thing mystified me.
We  went up an escalator to a level where all the good shops seemed to be,
and I  followed Katia as she inspected lots of dresses and so forth.
Eventually, in one  shop, she found a minidress she liked -- a backless,
halter-necked creation made  of some silky material. She went into a tiny cubicle to
try it on, while I sat  outside on a bench. After a few moments, she emerged,
wearing the dress. It  looked wonderful on her.
`How  do I look?' she asked, and twirled around, showing me her rear view.
My gaze  fell upon an insignia featuring entwined letters, S and M, now
visible on her  lower back. At first glance I thought it was a tattoo, but I
took her arm,  holding her still, and realized that it was scored deeply into
her flesh, a  brand!
`Fuck,' I said, Touching the brand gently, in case it was  sore, `They did
this to you?'
`Yes,' she said, `I'm very proud of it. But do you think I  should buy
the dress?'
`Yes,  of course,' I muttered, almost too stunned by her obvious
acceptance of what  must have hurt terribly to reply. And while she had her back to
me, I also saw a  ladder of fading red stripes on her graceful straight back.
If I didn't know  better, I thought, she's been whipped!
It  took me a while to recover, as we walked from store to store, but after
a while,  Katia said to me, `Don't you need any clothes?'
`I  don't wear dresses and stuff,' I replied, `and I've got lots of
trousers and  tops.'
`That's a shame,' said Katia, `you are very  pretty.'
I  looked at her to see if she was taking the piss, but her face was deadly
 serious.
`You  ought to wear nice things,' she was saying, `and let me do your
hair.'
Just  then, we passed a shop `Closed for remodeling,' and I saw our
reflections in the  darkened window. I had to admit there was a bit of a
difference. Katia,  startlingly blonde and immaculate in her pleated skirt, white
stockings and  staggeringly high heels, her breasts jiggling under a sky-blue
silk blouse -- and  me, mousy, straggly hair, Ottawa University t-shirt, jeans
and sneakers. She had  a point.
`Let  me get over the first few days,' I said, `then we'll see.'
Back  home, Katia showed Sandra the dress she had bought, as well as a pair
of shoes,  which had heels I couldn't imagine walking in, and some costume
jewelry.
After  approving of Katia's purchases, Sandra came over to where I had sat
down in an  armchair, and sat on the arm.
`And  how was your morning, Cindy?' she asked.
Curious as hell, I wanted to ask her about Katia's brand, but  didn't know
how to begin.
`Fine,' I replied, `there are some nice stores.'
`Did  you buy anything?' asked Sandra.
`No,'  I said, `I don't really need anything.'
`Well, lunch will be ready in about an hour. I suppose you'll  want to go
and freshen up?'
`OK,'  I said, and went up to my room. I didn't want to `freshen up' --
but I did want  to think. The sight of Katia's brand, and the all-too-clear
signs that she had  been whipped, coupled with her evident contentment, had
combined to set my mind  racing. I examined my own thoughts, because never in
my life had I encountered  anything of the sort. I wasn't a virgin -- hadn'
t been since I was fifteen -- and  didn't consider myself a prude, but,
although I knew that many people got their  kicks in different ways, I had never
before encountered a real-live.....  submissive? Was that what you called
them?
I had  to admit to myself that I was more than just curious. I was, I had
to admit,  excited.
A  shower might help calm me down, I thought, and quickly stripped off, and
stepped  into my little shower-cubicle.
As  the jets deluged down on me, I shampooed my hair, but, as I rinsed off
the suds,  my hand wandered involuntarily to my pussy, parting my labia, and
finding my  clit already emerged from its secret hiding place. With my
other hand I turned  off the water, and gave in to an impromptu masturbation,
which made my knees  virtually give way, as I came, in record time, a nice,
fulminating orgasm, that  left me crumpled against the wall of the shower,
legs like jelly. I realized I  had been picturing Katia as my climax
approached, and, as I dried my hair,  wondered if I had lesbian tendencies I had never
suspected. No, not really, I  decided -- it was the sexually-charged
atmosphere around her, and I remembered  the brief view I had had the night before,
of the three of them together on the  sofa -- and Mark was faceable, after
all!
I  tried my best with my hair. At least it was clean now, but it certainly
needed a  bit of care and attention.
I  stopped and thought, as I was applying a smear of lipstick for the first
time in  ages -- what was I trying to do? Compete with Katia? I grimaced at
the  mirror.  Not bad bone structure, or  body, for sure, but I had no eye
make-up, and as for clothes -- forget it! I  rejected the idea of putting on
my one and only skirt -- I had no shoes to wear  with a skirt - and went down
to lunch in my jeans and t-shirt.
We  ate a nice lunch that Sandra had prepared. She had said, last night, `
Katia is  our slave,' but it was Sandra who did the cooking while Katia was
out shopping!  Funny sort of slavery, I mused.
It  all seemed a bit more logical when Sandra asked Katia to clear the
table and do  the dishes, and Sandra and I sat down to watch television.
At  length, she said to me, `Cindy, I know your Dad gave you some money to
tide you  over, but do you want me to help you find a job? No hurry, of
course, but it  might not be that easy.'
`I  guess I'll start looking at the papers,' I said, `but I just want to
get used
to  being here
for a  while.'
Sandra looked at me as if she was about to say something,  then looked back
to the television, but I sensed it might be a good time, and  said, `You
told me last night that Katia is your slave. She seems.... happy with  her...
.er-status.'
`Yes,' she said, `I think she is. I'll have to tell you more,  as you're
going to live with us. It's just that I really don't know where to  start,
or if you'll understand.'
`Try  me,' I told her, and Sandra got up and came over to sit next to me,
then  immediately sprang up and called to Katia from the doorway.
`Katia, darling,' she said, `be a love and go fetch me some  Tampax from
the chemist's.'
She  came back, and said, `There, we'll be on our own for a while.'
She  then started to talk, telling me how she had `procured' Katia,
initially as a  kind of plaything for Mark, but that she had changed their lives --
launched them  on a sexual adventure which she hoped would continue for a
long time. She told  me about their friends Lucy and Jimmy, and how they
frequently had exchanges,  about how Katia had returned to Romania and come back
with a slave for their  friends.
`And  you had her branded, like a steer?' I couldn't resist asking.
`Yes,  have you seen it then?'
`She  said she was proud of it.'
`She's such a darling, and lives for the days when we punish  her,' said
Sandra.
I  shook my head in partial disbelief. `Partial,' because I had seen the
evidence  on Katia's slim body, and because I had developed, in no time at
all, a certain  fascination for what I now knew was going on. But Sandra
mistook my gesture for  disapproval, and said, `Look, Cindy, nobody's going to
ask you to join in with  our....activities. Your life's your own -- but you
should know what we get up to,  that's all.'
`I'm  absolutely fascinated,' I heard myself say, `and I think Katia's
lovely.'
We  fell silent at that, and watched an old film for a while, then Sandra
suddenly  got up and consulted a slim book that was on the sideboard.
`I  suddenly remembered,' she said, `we've invited Lucy, Jimmy and their
girl,  Nadia, to dinner. And my diary tells me it's tomorrow night.'
`I'll  go out somewhere,' I offered.
`No,  no,' said Sandra, `you are, of course, invited. You're one of the
family.  It's just that I don't want you to be  embarrassed by us. Look, you
can please yourself -- and I mean that -- either stay  up in your room and
watch the telly, or join us for dinner. It's up to you,  darling. Only thing
is, you'll want something to wear. I imagine your wardrobe  doesn't run to
an evening gown, am I right?'
I  grinned, `You're absolutely right.'
So  off you go to the shops again tomorrow morning -- and I'm buying!'
She  waved aside my protests, saying that I shouldn't need a dress if it
were not for  their dinner party. At that moment, Katia returned, and we
returned to watching  the film.
As  the film went on, my attention wandered, and I found myself thinking
about my  situation. I had been on the point of saying that I preferred
staying in my room  to their dinner party, but something got the better of me.
Curiosity? Probably,  but something about their lifestyle -- the two sexy
couples with their `slaves,'  was intriguing, and I could hardly wait to meet
their friends.
Next  morning, then, I was back amongst the stores, this time with Sandra,
who had  brought me in her car. We went from store to store, Sandra
continually rejecting  dresses I thought worth trying, until we left the Commercial
Centre, and I was  taken to a small boutique that Sandra said was certain to
have something for me.  And so it proved. The young assistant wheeled out a
whole rack of long evening  gowns, and Sandra flicked through them until
she found one to her  liking.
`I  think you should try this on,' she said, holding up a white garment
which had a  silky look, `come on!'
I was  embarrassed taking off my clothes in the dressing room, in front of
my aunt, but  stripped down to bra and panties.
`You'll have to wear this dress without those,' said Sandra,  but
understanding my feelings, added, `but you may as well try it on over  them.'
When  I slipped the gown over my head, I saw what she meant. It was a long
white  high-necked sheath, each side of which was open, the three inch wide
openings  held together by three sets of narrow black ribbons, which would
draw attention  to the openings, and, of course, to what the wearer had on,
or didn't have on,  beneath. The material was, I thought, frighteningly
flimsy. But I frequently  went without a bra, especially in summer, and wasn't
too worried about my  nipples sticking out, but I felt sure my dark bush would
be visible if I went  without panties.
But  Sandra had already made up her mind.
`I'll  take it,' she said.
By  the time we got home, she had bought me a cotton print button-through
dress, a  pair of shoes I thought I'd never be able to wear, and a miniskirt
and blouse,  and wouldn't hear of me spending my own money.
`We  won't worry about accessories,' she said, `I've got lots and lots of
 things.'
Sandra had been very sweet, and, at lunch, made another  suggestion.
`Cindy, my dear, will you let Katia help you get ready for  this evening?'
`Sandra,' I said, `I'm a big girl now, I can get ready myself  .'
`I  know, darling, but we all need a little help sometimes, and I really
want to  show you off to my friends. I think you're really very pretty, even
if you do  your best to hide it.'
`Do  you really think I'm pretty?' I asked -- nobody had ever said as
much, even my  old boyfriend, Rob.
`Yes,  darling, I think you are. You have a lovely young body, and a nice
face, and  Katia will help you make the most of it. She herself looked quite
plain when she  first arrived.'
I  found that hard to believe, looking at the slim blonde, who had just
come in  from the kitchen, and stood there in her black pleated miniskirt and
patterned  black hose, perched on the amazingly high patent stilettos she
seemed to have no  problem with.
After  lunch, Katia came up to my room with me, and sat on my bed while I
took a  shower. When I emerged, wrapped in a big fluffy towel, she smiled at
me.
`You  don't need to cover yourself, Cindy,' she said, but I left the towel
where it  was and sat beside her.
`You  must understand,' I said, `I've never been one to show myself. I'm
frightened to  death of wearing the dress Sandra bought for me -- it's so
revealing.'
`Let's have a look at it,' said Katia.
I  took it out of the wardrobe and held it up for her, and she took the
material  between thumb and forefinger.
`It's  lovely,' was her verdict, `but you can't wear anything under it,
can  you?'
`My  bush will show,' I protested.
`Then  let me shave you,' said Katia.
`Oh  fuck,' I exclaimed, `but I've never shaved there, in my life!'
`There's a first time for everything -- isn't that what you  say in
English?'
I sat  obediently on the plastic stool in the bathroom, while Katia took
the canister  of foam which, along with two razors, had mysteriously appeared
in my bathroom  cabinet, and, getting me to open my legs, foamed not only my
mound, but all over  my pussy, and even up my crack and around my asshole.
Then she started to shave,  expertly.
`You've done this before,' I said.
For  an answer, she flipped up the hem of her tiny skirt, and showed me her
 clean-shaven, neat pussy, below an equally hairless mound.
`No  panties!' I remarked.
`No,  never,' she replied, and I looked to see if she was kidding, but
there was no  trace of it on her lovely face. I was beginning to like her a
lot, but could  scarcely believe that there I was, letting another woman, I had
known for less  than two days, shave my pubes.
When  my mound was clear of every scrap of hair, she worked delicately
around my  labia, gently pulling them out of the way of her razor-strokes, and I
found  myself breathing just a little more quickly.
`You  are quite wet,' said Katia, and smiled up at me. I noticed for the
first time,  that she had a tongue-piercing, and thought briefly how it would
feel to be  kissed by her, or -- dangerous thought, this -- to have her lick
my pussy. I  couldn't remember ever having had these thoughts about another
woman.
But  she was asking me to sit up to the edge of the stool, so that she
could work  right up to my asshole, and I did as she wanted. When she had
finished, and  taken off the excess foam with a towel, she went and fetched a hand
mirror from  my dressing table, and showed me her handiwork -- I thought I
looked like a ten  year-old girl, but somehow quite pretty.
After  putting soothing oil all over my mound, and around my pussy, Katia
pronounced  herself happy with the result -- `but you must keep it
clean-shaven,' she  cautioned me, `or it will itch.' Her action, I mused, had drawn
us together, and  I could no longer keep secrets from Katia. I thanked her.
`Have  a rest now, and I'll go and do the same, then I'll come and do your
hair later,  ready for tonight,' the Romanian girl said.
`You  can stay here with me, if you like,' someone said -- it must have
been  me!
`I'd  like that,' she said, simply.
I  slipped into a short silk robe I had found behind my bathroom door, and
went to  turn back the sheets, and get into bed. To my surprise, Katia had
stripped  naked, and slid her slim body in beside me, glints of a silver
chain showing  briefly between her legs, and a pretty decoration more obvious as
it dangled  from her navel. I ached to touch her, but lay rigidly still, my
back to her, not  daring to do so. After a while, though, I felt her hand
stroking my hair, and  half-turned towards her, reaching to take her hand in
mine. No word passed  between us, but I slowly rolled over to face her,
looking at her in the  half-light which penetrated the drawn drapes. She was
smiling, and again I saw  the stud, flicking out from between her white teeth
like a snake's forked  tongue. Crossing a line I had never thought to
traverse, I leaned in and kissed  her tentatively, then pulled away to look for her
reaction. I felt her arm snake  around my neck, and, suddenly, we were
kissing with abandon, her studded tongue  clicking against my teeth as it
explored my mouth, our tongues thrusting,  entwining. I moved in closer, feeling
our breasts touching, then sought her firm  ones with my hand, encountering a
hard little nipple, and drawing a nice little  moan from deep in Katia's
throat. A long leg was thrown over me, entrapping me --  and I had never want
to be captured so much in my life.
`This  is all very new for me,' I breathed in her ear, stroking back her
lovely fine  hair.
`I  know,' she said, `but you like this, yes?'
`Oh  yes,' I replied, as her hand ran across my freshly-shaven mound,
sought my  pussy.
My  hormones were doing a tap-dance, after many months of abstinence -- my
affair  with Rob had come to an abrupt end when I found that he was
two-timing  me.
`Oh  yes!' I gasped, as Katia's busy fingers found my clit, prized it from
its hiding  place with her caresses, and then plunged into the wet, warm
depths of my cunt,  as her mouth simultaneously found one of my nipples, now
engorged with passion,  and teased it with her studded tongue.
My  orgasm took me by surprise, a delicious wave of ecstasy sweeping over
me like a  tsunami, and it took me a moment to recover, then I said, `It's
your turn now,  Katia!'
`No,'  she replied, `sleep for a while -- I need to rest for the evening
ahead;
I'm  sure to need all my energy then.' We lay together, sleep taking a
while to come  to me, but when it did, I slumbered deeply, until perhaps seven,
when Katia  kissed my cheek, and told me it was time to get ready.
She  had me sit on the stool in front of my dressing table, and spent some
time  expertly trimming and brushing my hair, until I could barely recognize
myself --  my hair was shiny and neat, falling down past my shoulders to the
middle of my  back. Then she got me to turn around, and attended to my
make-up, paying special  attention to my eyes.
`You've made me look like a whore,' I told her.
`Good,' she said, `then you will look sexy!' And I thought  privately
that she had achieved just that, my large green eyes now sporting long  black
eyelashes, and lots of mascara, my lips shining with gloss, a touch of
glitter around my cheeks.
It  was time to put on the dress. I felt nervous at the thought of people
seeing me  in this fantastic gown, which revealed more than it hid. After I
had wriggled  into its soft silky caress, and stepped into the heels Sandra
had bought me, I  walked about, getting used to the crippling height of the
unaccustomed heels,  and looking at myself from every possible angle in the
big mirrored door of my  wardrobe. Katia had gone to get ready herself. I
could scarcely believe that the  reflection looking back at me was me -- gone
was the scruffy creature I had been  for as long as I could remember -- in her
place was an erotic image, a girl, I  had to admit, that any man would want
to fuck. And with my appearance, I mused,  my whole attitude had changed.
Katia had shown me delights that lurked in my  body, hinting, as it were, at
pleasures to come, pleasures I could only dream  of, and which I had somehow
thought, I supposed, were felt by others -- not  me.  When I felt I could
trust  myself to walk without staggering in those heels, I walked carefully
downstairs.
Sandra was laying the table, and I had to do a double-take  when I saw her.
Her long, straight, ash-blonde hair, which I had only seen worn  up in a
twist, was loose, brushed out to a pretty sheen. But it was her dress  which
commanded attention. At first I only saw her rear view, and a central  three
inch gap from high neckline to floor in her flaming red gown was closed by
dint of criss-crossed black strings, which someone must have helped her pull
 tight, as she was virtually encased in the tight dress. The crack between
her  buttocks was on view, and, needless to say, she wore nothing beneath
the dress.  When she turned towards me, I told her I thought she looked very
sexy, and she  smiled back.
When  Katia walked in with a tray of glasses, she looked like a voyeur's
dream.  She wore a white corset, her waist  pulled in to almost nothing, her
breasts perched above its frilly top, nipples  just visible. From the high,
arched hem of the corset long garter straps held up  lace-topped white
stockings. This ensemble she covered with a completely sheer  white nightgown,
mid-thigh length, trimmed with white fur at hem and neckline. A  glint of
silver shone from her pussy, where I knew a chain dangled between her  two
piercings. She wore immensely high white stilettos, and I didn't believe I  had
ever seen a more erotic looking woman.
Mark  was at the door, welcoming the guests I was now eager to see, having
heard so  much about them from Sandra. When he ushered them in, I took an
instant liking  to Jimmy, who looked laid-back in cream chinos and a
button-down blue shirt. My  first sight of Lucy was unforgettable, though. Her long
black hair had been  braided into a single plait, and she wore a
peach-colored, long-sleeved harem  suit with a floral pattern, almost completely
transparent, so that I could see  the rings Sandra had told me hung from her
nipples, and that, like Katia, she  had a chain depending from her crotch, though
it was impossible to see where it  was attached without staring rudely. When
she greeted me, I noticed that she had  a coral stud in her tongue, too.
`And  this is our slave, Nadia,' she announced. I embraced the small, slim
Romanian  girl, who wore a simple, sky-blue, pleated gown, knee-length,
falling straight  from a gathered collar, in some soft, silky material.
When  I had been introduced, Lucy said to Nadia, `Now, show everybody your
brand,  darling -- they'd all like to see it, I'm sure.'
Nadia  picked up the hem of her dress, raising it to her narrow waist, then
slowly  turned around, so that we could all see the terrible mark, just
like Katia's,  but still looking fresh and just a bit angry. It consisted of a
simple insignia,  with Lucy's and Jimmy's initial entwined.
`Does  it still hurt?' Sandra wanted to know.
`A  little,' said Nadia.
`I  don't think she should be whipped tonight, then,' said Sandra, `so we'
ll not put  her name in the lottery.'
`Just  the three of us then,' said Lucy, `unless you are including Cindy,
of  course.'
`Oh  no, she's just a spectator,' said Sandra, `let's have something to
eat, shall  we?'
I was  utterly fascinated by the proceedings, but could scarcely believe
what I had  heard when I realized that they were actually going to have
someone whipped --  and that such punishment wasn't to be restricted to the
slaves.
As we  sat down to eat, I suddenly realized that I was wet. Was it the
amazing gown I  was wearing, and which caressed my skin like a lover? Was it the
sight of the  other women, so erotically dressed? Or Jimmy, whose eyes
flitted across me,  noting the shape of my breasts under the dress? Or was it
the promise of seeing  someone receive a whipping that they so clearly
relished? Whichever, my pussy  was soaking, and my concern was that I didn't stain
my dress.
I  looked around the table, and my eyes took in the sheer beauty of Katia,
the  innocent-looking Nadia, and the voluptuous charms of Sandra, but it was
by  Lucy's exotic appearance that I was captivated, and I realized with a
shock that  her husband was regarding me, a small smile playing on his lips,
as I was  riveted by the sight of his wife. I turned slightly to smile back
at him,  something I wouldn't have dared to do before.....before what? Before
I had fallen  under the spell of this odd gathering.
But  Mark was presenting straws to Sandra, Katia and Lucy, as we had
finished eating  -- and Lucy drew the short one! You would have thought she had won
a cash prize --  she looked delighted. Delighted that she was about to be
whipped?  Perhaps it was a play-thing? A  simulation, something like that?
`Who's going to whip me?' Lucy was asking.
`The  choice is yours,' replied Mark.
`I'd  love Sandra to do it,' said Lucy, `do you want me to strip now?'
`No,'  said Mark, `let's all go to the playroom. I'd like to see you on
my new  whipping-post.'
`That  sounds interesting,' said Lucy, and I saw her actually licking her
lips  involuntarily as we left the table.
Once  in the playroom, Mark sat between Katia and Nadia on the sofa, and
Jimmy  motioned to me to take the armchair, whilst he helped Sandra prepare
the  whipping post, and Lucy slipped out of her harem suit. It was then that I
saw  just how flat-chested she was, her breasts no more than slight bumps,
but with  prominent, swollen nipples, from which dangled dull metal rings. A
long silver  chain hung from her pierced navel, looped and joining another
which hung from  her hairless pussy.
Jimmy  and Sandra soon had her wrists in the stocks, and her legs spread
apart, ankles  secured by the straps that were there for the purpose.
`We  don't need to fasten her waist,' said Jimmy, `she'll keep still.'
Sandra lifted Lucy's plait from her back, and flipped it over  her
shoulder.
`What  would you like me to use, darling?' she asked her.
`You're good with a horse whip, Sandra,' she replied, `but do  as you
please.'
I  found myself getting unexpectedly excited, and was squirming on the
armchair, as  Jimmy came and sat on its arm.
`Do  you really want me to hurt you?' Sandra asked her captive. I realized
that this  was a part of some essential ritual.
`Yes,  please hurt me,' replied the Chinese girl, `hurt me a lot!' I
tried to read her  expression -- there was lust there, surely, and something else
-- expectation? I  couldn't tell, her Asiatic features inscrutable.
Sandra fetched a long, evil-looking horse whip from the  wall-rack, and
tested it through the air, then stood back, gave a couple of  swishes to loosen
her wrist, then sent the lather thong whistling through the  air to land
with a sharp crack across Lucy's slender white back, where it traced  an
instant pink line.
`Oh!'  murmured Lucy, when I was sure I should have screamed. Before I had
time to  wonder why my breath was coming in short gasps, another vicious,
efficient  stroke was etching a line on Lucy's pale flesh, and, although she
appeared to  writhe almost imperceptibly, she remained silent, but as she
twisted her head as  far as she could towards her torturer, her pretty face
wore an expression more  of lust than pain, and when the third, even harder,
lash brought up a welt on  her tender skin, I saw her studded tongue dart out
from between her white teeth  in an unmistakable gesture of passion. Sandra
was now warmed to her task, and  flogged Lucy with all her strength,
drawing a pattern of red stripes from her  shoulder-blades to her buttocks, and
not even sparing her inner thighs, where I  thought it must have been
excruciating. So caught up was I with Lucy's fate,  that I hardly registered Jimmy'
s arm around my shoulders, until his hand found  my breast through the thin,
soft fabric of my gown, and began kneading it,  bringing the nipple to
attention. Then I looked up at him, but he didn't stop,  and I certainly didn't
want him to.
`This  excites you, Cindy, doesn't it?' he whispered in my ear.
I  nodded dumbly, and, looking sideways, saw that Katia and Nadia were
taking turns  to suck Mark's impressive cock.
Sandra, meantime, had finished her work, and was taking Lucy  down from the
whipping post.
`Come  on,' I heard her say, `I'll take you to my room and put some balm
on your  marks.'
Lucy  nodded her acquiescence and, taking Sandra's hand, followed her out.
Jimmy  bent around and kissed my lips, and I found his attention so welcome
that I  allowed him to put his tongue in my mouth. As we kissed, I felt my
juices begin  to flow in earnest. Always finding it easy to reach a climax,
I knew I should  cum immediately we went any further. I was terribly excited
by what I had just  witnessed, but couldn't have said why. I found myself
wondering if I was, in  fact, envious of Lucy -- if I could envisage being
whipped. Her enjoyment was so  evident, that..........I just didn't know.
But  what was Jimmy doing now? He had taken my wrist and guided my hand
gently to his  fly. Some force outside my control made me pull down the zipper,
and I  discovered he wore no underwear, as his nice, straight, erect cock
sprang into  my hand. I looked at it admiringly, then leant over and licked a
drop of pre-cum  from its tip, which I then took in my mouth, tonguing his
crown until he moaned  with pleasure. Impatient for more now, I slid my lips
down his shaft, taking him  deep into my throat -- and amazed myself when a
violent, shuddering orgasm  wracked my body, an accumulation of what I had
seen and Jimmy's lovely cock. No  way could I disguise my ecstasy from Jimmy,
who immediately let himself go too,  and I was soon swallowing his load of
hot spunk as he shot it deep into my  throat.
We  all sat and sipped drinks, back in the lounge, Sandra and Lucy
conspicuous by  their absence, and when they did eventually appear, almost an hour
later, no-one  commented -- they simply poured themselves out a glass each and
joined us,  watching television. Only about 25% of me was with the game
show on the box,  however, as my mind was in turmoil, a turmoil that continued
after I had gone to  bed. I wasn't like them, was I? Or, if I wasn't like
the rest of the party, why  had I been excited practically to the point of
orgasm by what I had  witnessed?  And what made me take a  stranger's cock in
my mouth? I switched my light on and took a long look at  myself in the
mirror. Somehow, the girl looking back at me had changed -- I saw a  more
sophisticated, knowing image, and lay back, sleep coming  instantly.
When  I awoke it was almost nine, and I realized there was no noise from
downstairs.  Then it dawned on me that it was Saturday, and nobody had to go
to work. Just  the same, I showered and got dressed, starting to pull on my
jeans, then  thinking better of it, and slipping on the cotton summer dress
Sandra had bought  me, over my bra and panties. There was no way, I thought,
I could wear my  sneakers with a dress, so I reluctantly tried the
metal-heeled stilettos Sandra  had insisted on buying me. They were ever so high, and
would take some getting  used to, but when I looked at my legs in the
mirror, I could see that they  transformed me. Perhaps a change of image wouldn't
be such a bad idea -- and I  didn't plan on walking far anyway. Giving my
hair a quick brush, I set off to  look for some coffee.
Katia  had beaten me to it, and was sat at the kitchen table, still in her
robe, with a  cup of steaming coffee.
`Hello,' she said, `pour yourself a cup!'
I did  so and sat down opposite her.
`Did  you enjoy yourself last night?' she asked, `Jimmy is good, isn't he?
'
I  nodded my agreement, not too sure what she meant by `good,' but she was
smiling  in a way that suggested complicity.
We  sipped our coffees in comfortable silence for a while. At length, Katia
looked  at me thoughtfully, and said, `When Lucy was whipped, were you
excited?'
`What  if I was?' I almost said, but what I actually replied was: `I don'
t know really  -- it's all very new to me.'
Then  I looked at Katia, saw she was smiling, and asked the question that
really  fascinated me: `Do you actually enjoy being a slave?'
`Oh  yes,' she answered.
`And  even though you are punished, when you've done nothing wrong?'
`It's  what I live for,' she answered simply.
I  shook my head in mute disbelief, but she was eager to enlarge on the
subject.
`Sandra and Mark are very good to me,' she said, `and Mark is  my master.'
 As if that explained everything.
`But  it must really hurt to be.......to be whipped?'
`Yes,  it does, but it is the most wonderful feeling also,' she said, `I'
m excited now,  just talking about it.'
I was  about to ask more, but Sandra came in, also wearing her robe, and
went straight  to the coffee pot.
`I'm  going shopping as soon as I'm dressed,' she said, `would you like
to come too,  Cindy?'
While  I sat waiting for my aunt to get ready, my mind did somersaults -- I
couldn't  stop thinking about what Katia had said, and tried to explore my
own reactions  to what I had witnessed the night before. I wondered what it
was like to be tied  up, humiliated, brutally whipped. I had to admit it was
a fascinating prospect.  I had always regarded myself as a coward, cringing
at the thought of a visit to  the dentist, but I couldn't rid myself of the
image of Lucy -- her look of  longing as she was about to be whipped -- and
Katia's remark, `it's what I live  for!'
`You  are looking thoughtful,' said Sandra as she rummaged in her bag for
the  car-keys, `thinking about last night?'
`Yes,' I admitted.
`When  we've got the groceries, we'll go for a coffee, and talk about it,
shall we?' I  nodded agreement, though I still didn't have a clue as to my
own feelings, just  knew that I had undergone an important experience.
We  had trailed around the supermarket, loaded the goods into Sandra's car,
and were  sitting in the nice clean coffee bar, watching shoppers scurrying
around with  their trolleys.
`You  enjoyed Jimmy last night?' Sandra launched right into the heart of
the  matter.
I  mumbled a positive response, and she laughed lightly.
`He's  got a lovely prick,' she said, after a quick glance around to check
that we  weren't overheard.
`I  don't know what came over me,' I said, `I'm not at all like that.'
`I  suppose it was seeing Lucy......seeing her being whipped, I mean.'
`But  I'm.......I'm, I mean I've never.........' I gave up, and Sandra reached
across the table  and took my hand in hers.
`You  can admit it to me, if you are turned on by our...er, activities, you
know.  You won't be the first, and the way you  wore that dress last night --
 I should say there's a side of you nobody has ever  seen, including you.'
She watched me as her words sunk in.
`I  don't know,' I said finally, `there may be something in what you say.
Katia  fascinates me, and I sense we could become good friends.'
Sandra looked as if she had come to a decision, and said,  `Look, come with
us to meet some other friends this afternoon. I'll have to call  and check
they'll be home, but I've an idea you could find the meeting  advantageous.'

She  had said `advantageous' -- an odd word to use, I thought, as we toured
the dress  shops, shoe stores, and ended up buying nothing but a pair of
shoes for Sandra,  some costume jewelry and perfume, then, when we had almost
finished, she  insisted on buying me a tiny pleated miniskirt, and two silk
blouses.  `You'll look nice in that this  afternoon,' she told me, over my
protests at the skirt's brevity.
After  lunch, I went up and changed. The skirt was almost indecently short,
and, when I  sat down, I had to cross my legs immediately, before showing
my white panties to  all and sundry. When I looked at my reflection in the
mirror, however, the high  heels set off my legs a treat, and I thought
perhaps my `new look' suited  me.
Katia  disagreed, when I met her in the hallway, telling me I shouldn't
wear a bra  under the new blouse.
`Gavin likes to look at my tits,' she said, `and you have  lovely ones --
much nicer than mine.' I supposed I should have been flattered,  but took in
the fact that Katia wore a skirt and blouse almost identically to  mine --
was it deliberate on Sandra's part?
I was  unaccountably nervous when we reached the big house on the outskirts
of town,  and Mark trotted up three wide steps, and rang the doorbell.
Gavin, who answered  the door, was gorgeous! He was blond -- almost Scandinavian
in appearance, and  wore black jeans and a Ralph Lauren polo shirt. When he
greeted me with a hug  and kisses on both cheeks, he carried with him the
unmistakable aroma of  Monsieur Rochas. As we entered the spacious hallway, a
slender, raven-haired  woman wearing a fabulous soft leather trouser-suit,
hair caught up in a  pony-tail, came and was introduced to me as Gavin's
wife, Lidia. She had a faint  accent - Sandra had told me she was Spanish.
We  all sat on comfortable chairs in their beautifully appointed lounge,
where the  coffee pot was awaiting us. I was acutely conscious of my bare
legs, hardly any  part of which was covered by my skirt, and so, I noticed, was
Gavin, who kept  looking in my direction.
`So  what are you going to do,' Lidia was asking me.
`I  don't know,' I replied, `I shall have to start looking for a job
soon.
Probably in a store or something.'
At  that point, I saw a look pass between Lidia and Sandra, and Sandra
cleared her  throat, then said to me, `Perhaps you would consider coming to work
for Lidia  and Gavin? They are looking for someone.'
============================================================================

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