Rhette had already acknowledged to herself what type of woman she was. It was easy to fall under Sylvia’s domination, especially when Nick and Helena weren’t around to protect and guide her, so she did the other logical thing and lowered her mouth to the pretty woman’s pussy.
Her scent was strong, most likely because of her desire, as was her taste. Rhette ran her tongue from the top of Sylvia’s slit all the way down to the depth of her hole.
“Mmm,” Sylvia moaned. “Keep going. Don’t stop. Leanne, I want to hear you using that flogger on her.”
Rhette wrapped her arms around Sylvia’s thighs and was about to start sucking on the other woman’s clit, when Leanne hit her for the first time. She jumped and shrieked a little which brought a slap across her face from Sylvia. “Don’t you fucking dare stop eating my cunt,” she said, her voice low and fierce. “You’d better make me cum before you can’t take your punishment any longer.”
Nodding, Rhette lowered her face back to Sylvia’s pussy. It was easy to hide her smile that way. She doubted that Leanne could do anything to make her beg for the flogging to stop especially since Sylvia seemed ready to cum as it was.
Eating pussy, Rhette pondered as she started licking and sucking on Sylvia, was very much an art. Knowing what the other woman wanted and how to make her cum. She’d only gone down on Helena and now Sylvia, but she couldn’t see why any woman would object to sharing a little Sapphic love. It was both fun and enlightening. It was easy to understand why some men loved eating pussy.
Sylvia’s was hot and pungent, but in a pleasant way.
Leanne barely knew what she was doing with the flogger. She didn’t hit hard enough and her accuracy was all over the place. Maybe she was a slave and hadn’t been taught the correct skills, but it was the lamest paddling that Rhette had ever received. It was more distracting than anything else; she wished that Leanne would just focus on one area of her ass. That would be much better.
When Sylvia got close to cumming she reached down and tangled her fingers in Rhette’s hair, holding her face exactly where she wanted the redhead to concentrate. It was an oddly intimate gesture and Rhette focused on making the other woman cum. She wanted to make Sylvia cum because it would give her a sense of accomplishment.
Looking up at the older woman, Rhette tried to catch Sylvia’s eye before she made her cum. It wasn’t possible because Sylvia’s eyes were screwed tightly shut as she rapidly ascended the path to climax. When she did cum, the noise she made was unnerving and unpleasant, like she was in pain but got no relief from the orgasm. Still, since Sylvia didn’t say to stop, Rhette didn’t, and continued to lick and suck as a steady flow of juices filled her pussy.
“Stop stop stop!” Sylvia suddenly gasped, using the heel of her hand pushing back on Rhette’s forehead. “Too much! Stop!”
The other woman was panting, her orgasm having been wrested from her by Rhette’s talented tongue. Rhette and Leanne paused in their activities to see what Sylvia needed next. It took a long minute for her to do anything other than pant.
“I needed that,” she said between gasps of breath. “You know how to eat cunt.”
“Thank you.”
“When did you know you were bi?”
“I’m not bi,” Rhette said quickly.
Sylvia laughed. “Of course you’re not. You just have a natural talent at eating pussy.”
Rhette said nothing. It was one thing to go down on another woman when ordered to do so; it was another entirely to do it and enjoy it.
“Did you cum yet.”
“No.” Rhette had to force herself not to say Yes ma’am like Leanne would have.
Sylvia flicked her eyes up at Leanne. “Put down the flogger and use your mouth on her.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Rhette made to move up on the bed. The footboard was pressed hard against her hips and she wanted to turn over so that Leanne could lie between them in the same position she had always been in when a man had eaten her out.
Sylvia held her in place. “Don’t move. I want to watch your face while she makes you cum.” The older woman wrapped her thighs over Rhette’s shoulders and all but pinned her to the bed.
Leanne pressed her face between Rhette’s buttocks. She could feel the slave’s breath on her labia. Her skin was hot and needed a soothing balm; instead she got a wet tongue exploring her pussy. It took Rhette a moment to realize the strange sensation against her anus was Leanne’s nose. The flow of air as Leanne breathed was a queer feeling, but Rhette found she enjoyed it.
Sticking her ass out further, Rhette rested on cheek on Sylvia’s thigh and looked contentedly up at the other woman. She didn’t know Leanne’s thoughts about sex with women, but she was obviously experienced in this sort of thing. Rhette just let herself go and let the climax take her. It was the most unusual orgasm she had yet had in her life.
The light kiss on her lips brought her back to reality. Sylvia was beaming down at her. “You’re extremely beautiful when you cum,” she said.
“Thank you?”
Leanne had withdrawn her face from Rhette’s ass and pussy and was crouching on the floor. Sylvia laughed at Rhette’s response and unlocked her thighs from around Rhette’s shoulders and rolled to the side of the bed. She slipped off the edge and walked to Leanne, turning around to present her with her backside. For a moment Rhette was certain Sylvia was going to order the slave to eat her pussy as well, but instead she made a different request.
“Unhook my corset. I need to get out of this. I’m exhausted.”
Rhette crawled all the way on the bed and settled onto her side to watch the two. Leanne had nimble fingers and the corset quickly came off. Sylvia did a quarter turn and faced Rhette directly.
The redhead’s eyes went wide. She had seen pierced nipples before, but Sylvia not only had pierced nipples but a short chain connected the rings through her nipples. The chain had a golden ring on it, pulling the chain down into a V-shape rather than a graceful parabola.
Without thinking, Rhette pointed at the odd bit of jewelry and blurted out, “Jesus Christ, what is that?”
Smiling, Sylvia said. “My wedding band, of course. I wear it everywhere I go.” She gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Some men say no too easily if I wear it on my finger. This is the compromise I’ve worked out.”
Not for the first time Rhette wondered what the hell she had gotten herself into.
Chapter Fifteen
“You have to come with me at the next group meeting,” Rhette said to Jordan.
Jordan had listened to her story with a mildly shocked and mildly amused expression on his face. “I’m not sure that’s the life for me.”
“It’s the life I want,” she said firmly.
Jordan didn’t know what to think of that. “Is it?” he asked.
“Yes. And I want to share that life with you. And I can’t do that if you don’t want to go all in with me.”
“But…why?”
“Let me explain to you everything about Riordan.”
“The other guy you’re fucking?”
“It’s not just that…please let me explain.”
Jordan looked at her expectantly but Rhette found that all words failed her. She didn’t know what to say. All she knew was that to be happy in her life right then she had the physical need to be spanked and dominated as part of her sexual makeup. If she couldn’t find a man who was willing to do that to her and was able to fill her emotional needs as well, there was no point in staying with him. It was a simple thought, but she was unable to convert the thought to words.
Or possibly she was afraid to.
“Well?” he prompted her.
“I…I can’t really put it into words,” she said hesitantly. “But I need you to come with me to the next group meeting, otherwise you can’t be my boyfriend and I have to stop seeing you.”
He looked at her. “Orgy.”
“What?”
“Orgy,” he repeated.
“T
he synth-rock musician?” she asked, trying to make a joke of the situation.
He ignored her lame attempt at humor. “Call it what it is. An orgy. This isn’t a group meeting of some community organization. It’s just a bunch of people getting together for sex.”
“Yeah? So?” This wasn’t how Rhette had envisioned the conversation going. She was going to invite him to the next group meeting, he’d say yes, they’d celebrate the important decision by him spanking her and then they’d have sex. Jordan was ruining all of that.
“Is that what you like?”
The way he said it was like he was accusing her of doing something wrong. It annoyed and angered her.
“Yes,” she said boldly. “It is what I like. Does that bother you?”
Jordan started to answer, but Rhette interrupted him.
“And I know what I like. Do you know what you like? Are you going to live a life that is boring and dull? You haven’t shared one kink or something fun for sex with me. Please don’t tell me you’re that boring.”
Jordan wanted to answer, but didn’t know how to approach it. “I don’t think I’m that boring,” he said cautiously.
“Great,” she said brightly. “Then you’ll come with me to the next meeting. And tonight you’ll paddle my ass until I’m crying and then you’ll fuck me.” She turned around from him, hiked her dress up over her hips to expose her ass and panties. Rhette paused halfway to the door to her bedroom. “Coming or not?”
“Coming,” he said, wondering what he had gotten himself into.
Shaking hands with Riordan was the weirdest experience of Jordan’s life. The man was a good deal older than him and appeared completely confident. Just as they shook hands he flashed on the thought that Riordan’s hand had absolutely been used to spank Rhette’s ass. The other man’s hands had probably been all over her body. Jordan was simultaneously repulsed and jealous…and he had the same privileges with Rhette.
“So nice to meet you, Jordan. Rhette has told me so much about you.” The man was maybe an inch taller than him, with silver eyes and an assured manner. It helped that they were both wearing the same general style of clothing. Jordan hadn’t known what to wear to an orgy, having never been to one, and Rhette was of little help. She had opted for a black dress that clung to her curves. Underneath she wore one of her G-strings and no bra. Jordan couldn’t wear that so she said khakis and a blazer were fine, almost too formal. He wore a black t-shirt under the blazer which made him feel slightly less like his father who wore a blazer with golf shirts all the time.
Riordan wore a blazer as well, but underneath he had on an Oxford. At least it wasn’t a golf shirt. That would be too much. While Riordan didn’t look much like his father, the manner was similar and Jordan couldn’t compete for a woman with his father.
“It’s probably all lies,” Jordan said, trying to act casual. The manner of dress of those already at the party had unsettled him. Two women were wearing lingerie more appropriate for a strip club and one man was wearing nothing more than a leather thong. Everyone else seemed normal, but Jordan found himself re-evaluating what was actually normal.
“I don’t think so, she seems happy with you.” Riordan glanced across the room where Rhette was getting them drinks from the table set up as a bar. “If I wasn’t married I’d probably have to fight you for her.”
Jordan’s throat closed up but he managed to force out the words, “You’re married?”
“Yeah. Rhette didn’t tell you that?” He smiled. “She might be a little young for me, but I’d happily make her my slave. My wife likes her too so it would be a nice combination.”
Nodding was all that Jordan could manage. Luckily Rhette returned with wine glasses and handed one to him. He took a sip to cover his failure to maintain the conversation. “Talking about me?” Rhette asked.
“Yes,” Riordan said. “I was just telling Jordan I want to make you my slave and fuck you while my wife watches.”
Jordan wanted to finish the glass of wine. He instead only drained half of it.
“I think that Sylvia would rather join in than watch,” Rhette said, her face slightly blushed. Was it from the wine or the conversation? Jordan couldn’t tell.
“Would you like to watch that, Jordan?” Riordan asked.
The wine wasn’t helping him talk. Jordan just stared. Rhette stepped in to help. “He probably would,” she said. “He’s into voyeurism, I told you that already.”
“Right, right,” Riordan absently agreed. The crowd was moving back from the center of the living room to make space for the main entertainment of the night.
Rhette leaned over and whispered in Jordan’s ear. “Remember, I told them your kink was watching. Normally on everyone’s first visit they get to be the entertainment.”
“Right,” he said.
The center of the room was dominated by the blonde that Rhette had told him was Helena. She was wearing a rather modest, long red dress. Her husband, Nick, was with her and he casually unbuttoned his shirt and pulled down his jeans to reveal he wasn’t wearing any underwear.
Jordan was relieved to see the man’s cock wasn’t huge or erect.
“Chastity doesn’t have to be just for fun,” Helena said, “it can be to keep your partner under your thumb as well.” The crowd tittered at the joke but pressed in to see what the pair were going to do. “Well, not literally. I like to keep Nick’s key around my neck on a chain, next to my heart.”
A small, falsely sincere “aww” emanated from the group, which then quickly dissolved into titters of amusement again.
From that introduction Helena gave a detailed explanation on how to put a man’s cock into a chastity device. She used two different ones on Nick’s cock and Jordan watched, fascinated and horrified at the same time. Both were constructed in similar ways: a curved, tube-like covering went over the shaft of his penis while a retaining ring went behind Nick’s balls, and the two pieces locked together with a small, simple padlock or an embedded lock in the device itself.
Two things struck Jordan about Nick’s cock; first, he kept his pubic hair trimmed short or shaved and even might have completely denuded his balls. Jordan figured this had to be for comfort because getting a hair caught and pinched in any part of the device had to have been painful. Second, Nick had a Prince Albert piercing at the end of his cock. Jordan thought getting that done must have been incredibly painful, but was taken by the look of the thick ring dangling off the end of his cock and then circling back up through the underside. As Helena explained, the PA ring was not only attractive—at least to her eyes—but it was also practical from a chastity viewpoint.
The first chastity cage she put on her husband was bright pink, Pepto-Bismol pink, Barbie pink, and the color alone had to be a bit humiliating. It was made out of a hard rubber that was sturdy yet pliable.
“It’s not rubber,” Helena explained to the audience member who asked a question about the device. “It’s a durable silicone-like material used in a lot of vibrators and other sex toys. It moves enough to be comfortable and utilitarian. Plus it comes in a bunch of colors, whatever suits your fancy.” She slipped the lock through the hard rubber and showed off Nick’s now-useless cock to those watching.
There was soft, scattered applause. Then someone asked a question. “Okay, so he can’t get hard inside the cage but can’t he just…I don’t know…cut it off?”
Helena smiled. “How would he do that?”
The man who asked the question seemed like he was suddenly embarrassed by his inquiry, but he pressed on. “That padlock is tiny. Any decent pair of bolt cutters would shear right through it. And you can buy those at Home Depot. Same for the thing itself. It’s just rubber or silicone. A sharp pair of shears or scissors would make short work of it.”
Helena’s smile didn’t waver. “You’re correct. That would be cheating at the game, and enforced male chastity is a game for a man and his partner—or partners—but if it’s security you’re worried about, then there a
re other types of cages.”
She quickly removed the pink silicone cage from Nick’s cock and pulled the black metal one that Rhette was familiar with from the box at her feet. She proceeded to put it on Nick’s cock, all the while extolling its virtues and features. “Case hardened steel,” she said, tapping the bars of the cock cage with her fingernail. “Again, not impossible to cut through, though much more difficult…and dangerous. Most men aren’t willing to risk their cock to possibly escape chastity. It’s easier to give in to the key holder and do as she or he wants. Nick’s piercing assures the keyholder that pullout is impossible. Again, cutting away the cage is always an option, but that lets the keyholder know that maybe their partner isn’t up to their part of the bargain. It’s a game, consensual torment and imprisonment, all for the fun.”
“Or to keep a cheating partner under control?” asked a woman holding a chain that was attached to her male partner’s collar. He was bare-chested and hairy. She was wearing a corset and nothing else as far as Jordan could see.
Helena laughed. “If you want.”
“What if you want to fuck?” the woman asked.
“Then you take off his cage and fuck him,” Helena answered.
“What if you want to fuck with the cage on?” the woman asked, making a joke.
“The ingenuity of the human mind compelled by sexual desire is incredible,” Helena said, sounding a bit like a college professor. “But there is one last little trick I’d like to show you.”
From the box Helena drew out a vibrator. It was unremarkable in every respect. “This doesn’t work as well with the silicone sleeve covers because the vibrations are muted, but on a metal cage…” she proceeded to press the device against Nick’s cage and everyone could see that it started to swell.
“Don’t,” Nick begged.
“This will be your release for the week,” Helena told him.
As he reached for the vibrator, she grabbed his wrist and twisted his hand behind his back. He was a strong man and could have broken away from her, but he didn’t. It was part of the game.
The Elliot Silvestri Erotic Reader Volume 6 Page 69
