HOW WE SERVE MASTER

Master doesn’t fuck Gretchen and I for his own pleasure.

Our pussies are too old, loose and dry for that.

When he does fuck us, it’s to give us edges that are thrilling — but incredibly frustrating.

A elegant form of punishment, you must admit.
But also, as the occasional reward, he’ll gift us with an extremely mind-blowing hard cum.

He keeps us as slaves not for his sexual satisfaction, but for the authority of sexual control. He enjoys having total command of the bodies of older, experienced women.

When he fucks, he likes to fuck tight cunts. Twentysomething college girls are his prime appetite.

Like Macy.

He brought her home last night.

Little Miss Curly Hair

Master is big on routine and ritual. So when he brings a girl home, she may be different but what he does and what we do follows a pattern.

Gretchen and I always dress the same when a girl “visits” — a black sleeveless minidress. It’s one of the few times we get to wear clothes in the condo.

But no bras. Master likes our large sagging breasts to sway freely under the dresses so the girl can see what age will bring.

The girls are always curious about us. Before he brings them home, he tells him that he owns two older sex slaves.

They seem at first a bit scared of us. Especially when we take them in hand to prepare them for Master.

After he gives us the girl, the next time he sees her, she’ll be wearing nothing but a black leather dog collar and black stilettos.

Her pussy will be freshly and completely shaven.

“I shaved it yesterday morning,“ Macy says when we tell her what we are going to do.

“That doesn’t matter. You’ll now be shaved for Master,” Gretchen says.

As we shave her, Macy says, “I touched it. In the car. Through his pants.“

She exhales a long breath. Says …

“It felt so … big. Huge.”

“It is,“ I say, as I wipe her dry down there. “As you’ll soon discover.”

It Certainly Is

Macy’s glasses have fallen off.

They lie there on the bed, just beneath her bowed head.

She quietly sobs. With the occasional moan and even a shriek or two.

Master is brutal with his edging.

So close to a cum. So close. But … no.

Macy, like most girls Master fucks, just can’t deal with it.

Master is riding her doggy style on the bed.

Gretchen and I kneel with our backs against the wall, watching in the prescribed position we take when Master is fucking a girl on the bed.

Macy gathers herself, and tries again to beg her way to orgasm.

“Please let me cum. Please. I need to cum. Please. Please. I need to cum. Please. I. Need. To. Cum. PLEASE! PLEASE! GODDAMN IT!!! LET ME CUM! PLEASE!!!!”

Her breath becomes ragged. It quickens. She repeatedly cries, “Yes!”

She is so very close.

Master and his razor thin edges.

Macy’s body shivers like it’s freezing cold.

“Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes,” she cries out.

But then …

Master lets go of her hips.

He slides his monster cock out of that tight young pussy.

Macy collapses onto the bed. She puts her head on her crossed arms and cries.

The poor girl’s young and inexperienced body is just not able to comprehend and deal with such sharp edges.

And the edges that she is used to are ones that are immediately reshaped into cums.

Her soft jagged sobs are so sweet.

I want to fuck her so badly. And I’m sure Gretchen does, too. But she’s not for us.

At least not right now.

A Consoling Way

Master sits down on the edge of the bed.

After a few moments, Macy rolls over and looks up at him. He reaches down and with his thumb wipes away her tears.

He speaks to her.

“Don’t worry, baby girl. Before the weekend is over, you will cum. You’ll have hard cums that you’ll never ever forget, I promise you.”

Master bends down and kisses her.

“I want you to go with my two ladies now. Get a little rest.”

Gretchen and I rise and go over to the bed. We help Macy down.

Her breathing is still unsteady and her legs are shaking as we take her to the discipline room.

There’s a dog cage there that master likes girls and women he fucks to spend at least a little time in.

We take pity on her and give her a blanket and a pillow before we lock her in the cage.

Much to learn lies ahead for this young college student.

“Hmmm …”

That was Gretchen.

“Ahhh …”

That was me.

“Goddamn.”

Gretchen.

“Ee ee ee.”

Me.

“You’re fucking me, Annika. Fucking me so good.”

“Oh God, Gretchen. Oh God, oh God oh God.”

“MY FUCKING ASSHOLE IS GETTING MOTHERFUCKING FUCKED!!!”

That was Gretchen. Of us two, she has the dirtiest mouth. “OH FUCK! GODDAMN OH FUCK!”

Of course, I was no nun, verbal wise. Or any other wise.

We were on the sofa.

Butts touching. Then not touching. Then touching again.

We were ass fucking each other using a double-headed dildo.

Master walked over. His strong hand grabbed my jaw and wrenched my head to the side.

I opened my mouth just in time to take his huge hard cock.

I gagged in glorious submission as he fucked my throat.

All the while, Gretchen squealed in delight and pain as she and I hammered each other‘s asshole.

“Gag her.“

“Yes, Master. Ball or panties?“

“If I cared, I would have commanded. You decide. You have my permission to fetch.”

“Yes, Master. Thank you, Master.“

I headed to the discipline room. I had seen Gretchen’s black lace, crotchless panties laying beside her as she knelt on the living room floor, so I picked up a roll of strapping tape from a shelf in one of the closets and went back to the living room with it.

I wadded up Gretchen’s panties and put them in her mouth. I tore off some tape and put it over her mouth, creating the gag Master had ordered.

“Cuff her.”

“Yes, Master.”

“When you fetch, also bring my full cane and a double-weighted clit clamp.”

I hurried off to the discipline room and quickly returned with what he had ordered.

I handed him the cane.

“Attach.“

“Yes, master.“

I stepped behind Gretchen, bent over and cuffed her wrists behind her back.

Then I walked around to her front. I squatted and attached the clamp to her clit.

She let out a very quiet gasp.

It was the first sound or motion she had made since I came home to find her kneeling naked in the living room.

I didn’t know why yet she was being punished. But I was helping Master punish her.

It’s what he made us do. Help hurt the other.

Gretchen and I agreed long ago that we would not hold it against each other. We were sex slaves. We had no choice but to obey.

With the brutal accuracy he had displayed so many times, Master began to flick the steel tip of his cane on Gretchen’s nipples.

She was a strong woman, we both were. But neither of us was ever a match for Master.

After a while, she began to shake and sob. And as the tip of the cane continued to find the tender tips of her breasts, she dropped her head back and screamed.

But it was perfectly muzzled by the expert gag I had created for her.

My truest contribution to her current misery.

I look at the full-length mirror and I’ve got to say, I look hot.

Especially for a 55-year-old woman.

My hair is still mostly blonde. My breasts don’t sag all that much.

And I weigh about what I did 40 years ago. Well, 30 years ago at least.

I guess I owe that part to Master. He has given me a weight range that I have to remain within.

I am punished if I weigh over the range or under it.

And, yes, I said Master. I am owned. I am a sex slave.

My master Randy is only 25 years old. But he is wise, strong, ruthless and hung.

Very hung.

He barely fits in my mouth.

He’s so hung he only ass fucks as punishment. And his cock up there is nearly torture.

I am a data specialist advisor at a financial institution in New York. I’m mostly retired and only work about 25 hours a week.

The rest of the time I spend serving Master.

We live in a condo in Manhattan. Living with us is Gretchen, another one of Master’s sex slaves.

She’s a bit younger than me, only 47. She’s a part-time editor at a graphics publishing house.

I am three-times married and three-times divorced. With two grown children and three grandkids.

Before she met Master, Gretchen was a lifelong lesbian. His authority, charm and cock changed her.

When Master rewards both her and me, and lets Gretchen eat my pussy. I am so grateful for her life history.

We service. We obey.

And in return, Master gives us cums you would not believe.

But more than that. Every woman is familiar, if she’s lucky, with edging.

But there are edges, and then there are the razor-thin, so close it nearly kills you, “dear God don’t stop” edges that Master provides us.

His discipline and his punishments are harsh.

And in a way, the pleasures he provides are even harsher.

Neither Gretchen or I would have it any other way.

I was looking in the closet for the dress I would wear when he came in.

“Good morning, Master,“ I said.

“Good morning, Annika,“ he said.

He silently looked me over head to toe. He said …

“Switch.“

Uh oh.

“Yes, Master,“ I said, bowing my head.

I left the bedroom and went to the discipline room. I retrieved his switch from where it hung on the wall.

It was a short, thin bamboo cane with a leather handle.

Then I went to the living room and fetched Gretchen. She was on the sofa, reading a magazine.

When one of us is disciplined, the other must be there to watch and learn.

Back in the bedroom, Gretchen knelt over to the side and I handed Randy his switch.

I turned and he placed his left hand on the small of my back. I bent over and grasped my ankles.

He wasted no time. The switch struck my ass. I gasped.

It struck again a bit harder, and I bit off a whimper. I prepared for more.

But no more came. That was it.

“Stand,” he said.

I turned to face him, but cast my eyes down. I said, “Thank you, Master.”

I went to my knees. Gretchen crawled over. We each kissed one of his bare feet.

This is another ritual that we always perform after one of us has been disciplined.

He told us to stand.

I asked, “May I inquire of my transgression, Master?“

“You were glistening,” he said.

“I am so sorry, Master. May I correct my error now?”

He said yes. I walked to the bathroom and tore off some tissue.

I had been sloppy. Thinking about what lay ahead had that day, I had allowed myself to get a little moist down there.

I wiped my pussy dry.

Randy is in total control of when and if Gretchen or I get wet.

Permission must be asked for a wet pussy. And permission must be given for a wet pussy.

So I began the day with an error. But the punishment wasn’t so bad.

That evening, Gretchen would get much worse.

With apologies to Bob

Ain’t it just like the night to play tricks 
When you’re trying to be so quiet? 
We sit here stranded though we’re all doing our best to deny it 
And Louise holds a handful of rain tempting you to defy it

Lights flicker from the opposite loft 
In this room the heat pipes just cough 
The country music station plays soft 
But there’s nothing, really nothing to turn off

Just Louise and her lover, so entwined 
And these visions of Akira that conquer my mind

In the empty lot where the ladies play 
Blind man’s bluff with the key chain 
And the all-night girls 
They whisper of escapades out on the D-train 
We can hear the night-watch man click his flashlight 
Ask himself if it’s him or them that’s insane

Louise, she’s alright, she’s just near 
She’s delicate and seems like the mirror 
But she just makes it all to concise and too clear 
That Akira’s not here

The ghost of electricity howls in the bones of her face 
Where these visions of Akira have now taken my place

My wife is crying.

I like that.

She’s not really hurt. Oh, there’s some minor physical and emotional pain.

But, hey, when you’re a sexual submissive married to a dominant wife, what do you expect?

Besides, Akira is mainly crying because she likes to cry.

That, my friends and co-conspirators, is why she’s a sexual submissive married to a dominant wife.

She likes to cry.

The human race is both ancient and mind-boggling weird.

She cried because I took my riding crop to her pussy and then rode that pussy with my girl cock. Her ass right after that.

Now she’s in heaven having a nice long sob curdled up in bed.

I can’t help myself. I make women weep.

A matter of fact, Akira says the highlight of our last European trip was the two weepers we had fun with.

First in Belgium and then in France, I charmed a young lady to come up to mine and Akira’s hotel room.

And fuck my wife.

Then I punished Akira and the girl.

Both girls were fantastic sobbers. You could tell it was one of their favorite parts of sex.

And they were tough, witty and beautiful. So delightful, delicious and debased.

Adelheid was a blonde we met in Antwerp. Brigitte was a brunette living in Bordeaux.

So you see, on top of everything else, they were alliterative.