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HOW FAR WILL THE MILF GO? THE BDSM ADVENTURES OF LARRY, STEVE, ROB, JIM, KEITH, CHERYL, MONIQUE, KATHRYN (NOT THEIR REAL NAMES) AND ME, INCLUDING MANY BDSM SCENES AND IDEAS, SADO-MASOCHISM, TABOO, THE GOOD AND THE BAD AND ULTIMATELY THE BREAKUPS Monique had a perfect body for our purposes, 5 foot 5 inches tall, 55 kg, 38D cup, beautifully curved and toned. Her face was striking if not beautiful, slightly longer than normal oval shape with a narrow nose like a Modigliani portrait framed with lush straight dark hair. Her physical form came with a personality rather shy and prudish, unusual for the lifestyle, but she was also desperate to please. Sadly, she would be the cause of my departure. We’d lost our previous slave, Cheryl, who’d been one of the wives. That all fell through when she decided she wanted to divorce Keith and they both left the group. Larry suggested Monique as a replacement. He’d found her online. She was 35, single, never married, hadn’t had a relationship for years, was totally new to BDSM but keen to be trained and experience it. Online, she’d given no specifics, no limits, no preferences, though she hinted she might be a masochist, only based on what she’d seen and read, nothing she’d experienced. When Larry met her in person he was surprised by her prim outfit and rather prudish manner. A stark contrast to the desires she’d claimed online. However, after he’d given her a fair description of our group’s activities she said, “it sounds just like what I was hoping for.” Larry’s recommendation of her was not without reservation. He wondered if her conservative ethos might hold her back from full participation once in the thick of it. Still, on looks alone he felt she’d be worth pursuing. We decided to check her out in a formal interview. She arrived immaculately dressed, office style, looking anxious though composed. After Larry introduced Steve, Jim, Rob and me, we were all sitting with him behind his office board table, he went straight to ordering her to strip. There was some squirming, some sighed “Oh no’s,” and appeals to alternatives like having just Larry in the room for it and worries about not being prepared for “jumping right in at the deep end.” “I hope you don’t think this is the deep end,” Jim quipped, and we all laughed with him, but friendly-like, and she said she could see we were all nice guys, but it was just that she’d never done anything like this before. Nice? I thought, hopefully she'll find out soon enough. Finally, she slowly undressed in front of our unrelenting gaze. She looked great, and more so as more was revealed. Standing there naked and nervous, trying to hide herself until Larry told her to put her arms down so we could see her properly, she hesitantly answered the most intrusive questions we could think of about her sexual history and what she might be willingly to agree to if she joined us, Her face, neck and even her breasts were blushing through most of it, and her nipples stiffened at many of the questions. An encouraging sign, I felt, and I wasn’t the only one pleased that she bashfully agreed to a hands-on try-out, to see if she’d like what we did, and if we’d like doing it to her. Scheduling a date for the trial run proved difficult, however, and I wondered if it was her way of backing out gracefully. But eventually we got there, working around the times of her job at the law firm, her Pilates sessions, her night classes to finish her law qualifications, the weekends that were dedicated to family time, and the need to use a day that her 17-year-old only would be staying at her grandmother's as she did on four nights a week to be closer to the high school. Monique was adamant that her never got even a hint of what she would be doing with us. Apparently, one big attraction in our arrangement was that it didn’t involve men coming around to her house or staying over. Problems with past boyfriends encroaching on the close relationship she had with her in their intense little two-person family meant she’d been celibate for the last four years. We were worse than any boyfriend in so many ways, but that seemed all okay by her so long as we were bound to secrecy, and we never showed up at her place or met her . It suited us. We didn’t want anyone outside the group knowing the things we did, or who we were. The try-out session went well. She proved willing and totally obedient, despite her coy strip at her interview, though in my view very little of it was challenging. Larry wanted to start off slow to avoid scaring her off. We didn’t fuck her that time. For all our sakes we wanted to have her formally agree first, to avoid later misunderstandings that could lead to grievances and charges. So at the end of the try-out after only one query and scant perusal she signed the extensive BDSM slave contract Steve had drawn up as the lawyer of the group and gave over the STI clearance we requested, flickering an embarrassed grimace as she handed it to Larry. Next session was the first fuck. Rob did the honours. When erect he is a sight to behold. She looked alarmed when the monster sprang forth from his pants and got a little vocal, and not in a good way, as he drove slowly and seemingly endlessly all the way into her vagina where he rammed her while we held her down. Larry asked if she was alright when Rob had finished in her. She seemed relieved but ready to receive the next more average cock in the line-up. That night her vagina made up for its years of neglect and at the end of the session, she was totally wired, surprising us by saying with unmasked excitement that it felt just like an abduction and gang r4pe. I thought to myself, that’s a fantasy scene she’s been masturbating to. Another significant moment was the first pain experience we put her through. It was the very next session. After giving her a safe word, Jim got her into a wheelbarrow position and spanked her arse with a heavy leather paddle for about 20 minutes, intermittently fingering her cunt and anus that were conveniently presented to him by the position. She got distressed about halfway through, and Larry stroked her back and shoulders while explaining that the more she complained the more it turned Jim on. I reached under to milk her dangling tits and then put some strong alligator-type clamps on her nipples to give her something else to feel and maybe take her mind off her burning arse cheeks as the beating continued. It was just after that we discovered she really was the masochist she’d originally claimed. When Jim finished on her arse, we turned her round so I could fuck her while Jim used her mouth. At my end of her I found a sopping wet cunt pulsing in desperate anticipation. I took the opportunity to lubricate her arsehole with her excess juice and shove my way in her dark hole rather than her cunt, yearning for cock though it was. Driving through her tight sphincter was easier than I had anticipated. Even so, I learned later that I was popping her anal cherry, and as it was happening, she managed to get off Jim’s cock to say, “NO!” But I was already right in her. After a few thrusts she shocked me by cumming with such a powerful clamping on my cock I spurted prematurely. It turned out, as she admitted when interrogated about it afterwards, she’d been fingering herself while we were spit-roasting her. Larry said she should be punished right then and there for cumming without permission, and for touching herself while she was with us, though we’d never told her of those prohibitions apart from in the fine print of the contract she’d signed. “Start as you mean to go on” was Larry’s management motto. She begged, "No, no. Sorry Sir. I didn't know. Please." There were tears. But he bent her over the table, anyway, tied her to it and after repeating the safe word for her again, caned her already rosy arse cheeks before fucking her himself. She came again. We all followed suit, caning her and fucking her. By the time all five of us had her on the table, her butt and upper thighs were well striped with welts, and she’d cum powerfully at least twice more as far as we could tell, and her faces was streaked with tears. Back in the days of slave Cheryl, Larry had introduced a proper aftercare routine to end each session, so that she wouldn’t leave without emotional warmth after enduring a couple of hours of often painful and always humiliating sexual abuse. For some reason Larry was the guy who always did the aftercare. Her husband Keith felt it had to be someone other than him for it to be meaningful and Larry was possibly the warmest of us. Anyway, when we’d finished with Monique that day he hugged her, wrapped her in a blanket, complimented her on her performance. She was silent but you could tell she was loving nestling into Larry. For some reason that pissed me off. When he asked her how it had been for her, she said, it was "fantastic thank you, I loved it particularly when you were strict with me." But a bit further into the conversation, she contradicted herself saying it was “excruciating.” Was it the punishment? No not that. She expected that to be painful. It was that she’d never “climaxed” with a man before, and while it was "amazing" and she was so grateful she also felt totally “mortified” having several men staring at her as it happened. "Oh God, it was so awful," she said “I just couldn't stop, over and over”. She sobbed a little as she spoke about the fact that her climaxes had always before been "such a private thing" and today with "you all" around, she felt… she searched for words... “a brazen .” Larry suggested that could be a good thing for the future. She managed a smile at that. When Larry sought to clarify what she meant by her sudden “No!” when I’d entered her anus, she assured us she never meant to stop anything, and hadn't said the safe word. It was just a reaction to her “poor bottom,” as she called it, getting “violated” for the first time. She knew it had to happen sometime and guessed she’d get used to it, and even admitted that “in the end it was quite nice.” Faint praise, I thought. She ended that conversation with a manifesto that sealed her fate: “Please...Just do it, whatever you’re going to do to me, even if I don’t want it, that’s what I want, to have no say, no safe word, nothing, no matter how awful you are to me, no matter what I say when it’s happening." she paused, "there...Oh God. I've said it now." And she clenched her hands under the blanket and pressed them to her eyes. Rob was still naked, and his monster cock started bobbing at this declaration. The session was over, but he told Larry he needed her to suck him off. Like it was Larry’s to say? But I guess he was holding her all tightly wrapped up. I was in for her to service me as well. Jim was just as happy not, but ready to help if she needed encouragement and he brandished his riding crop. Steve said he had to leave to meet his wife and took off. And Larry? Well, he was dithering. He’d already finished everything off nicely and wasn’t sure it would be appropriate. But Monique simply said, “Oh” kind of like she was in despair as she often did, looked at Larry as if for guidance and support, but getting none broke away from him and the blanket and dropped to her knees in front of Rob. Watching her struggle with his enormous wang in her pretty, prissy mouth got me hard as I had been at any time during that session. I should explain that by “prissy” mouth I mean her habit of avoiding all crude sexual language, preferring to say “having me” or “doing me” or “entering me” rather than “fucking me;” or “my breasts” instead of “my tits;” and “down there” rather than “my cunt” or even “my pussy” and “my bottom;” or “back there” not “my arse” or “arsehole” or the anatomically correct “anus;” and to us, “your member” or “your thing” not “your cock” or even your “penis”. It was one of her quirks that made her sexual humiliation so much more appealing. Sometimes we’d order her to use rough talk and call herself a “cum-slut’ or ‘fuck-meat,” just to watch the dismay on her face as she said it. Though I’m sure she was aware that she was certainly those things. When she’d finally sucked the three of us off that day, including Larry who joined in despite the disruption of his tender aftercare wind down, he put his arm around her again wiped her face off and helped her into her coat and shoes, which were all she was allowed to wear coming to sessions. She kissed his cheek goodbye. Which I noted with surprise. We’d long ago agreed to prohibit kissing during our group sessions as building the wrong sort of relationships for what we were doing. I reckon Monique loved Larry, even then. At least she liked him more than the rest of us. She possibly just tolerated us for Larry. Anyway, as things went on, we got a lot freer with Monique than we ever were with Cheryl. One reason was that Monique was a lot hotter than Cheryl. Not that Cheryl wasn’t attractive, she was and to be fair she’d kept us going hard for a year and more. But as well as being hot, Monique, with her lack of experience, would do or allow anything she was told regardless of the distress with which she might greet the “disgusting” degradation of it. Cheryl on the other hand was experienced, had defined limits, and knew how to make no mean no if she needed to. Most limiting of all, Cheryl was the wife of one of us. Keith would often take her part, coming over all hangdog saying, “guys we gotta stop with” this or that, when she’d told him off at home. He seemed under her control, even scared of her. Though in sessions he was extremely aggressive physically and verbally calling her pig, bitch, , slut far more than any of us, and in a nasty way that could be worrying. Not long before they left us Cheryl told me what upset her with Keith. They never had sex at home. Without the group she’d get nothing sexually, which was the main reason she stayed with us. She so wanted Keith to fuck her at home every night like she was his one and only forever wife, his and only his, but he wouldn't. I wasn’t surprised they were separating. There was none of that complication with Monique. Our dealings with her revolved solely around BDSM sex sessions with no other expectations or restrictions, and we freely explored our sado-sexual potential with her to the full. Soon she was ending sessions covered with welts, bruises, the marks of hot wax or ropes or whatever, spattered with cum and piss, her hands over her aching nipples and often so sore between her legs, or so orgasmed out of her mind, that she could barely walk. Miraculously, she always recovered for the next session and came back eager for more use and abuse. On one weekend-long session in Larry’s cabin, we got talking about ramping things up even further. It’s worth pointing out, no doubt as many know, that this is a constant problem for arrangements based purely on sexual kink and excitement. How to keep it exciting? We’d been at her for the whole day, and we were relaxing around the fire in the evening smoking cigars. Steve had been researching chastity belts and was suggesting that we put her in one. His idea was to lock her in 24/7. It would be humiliating and embarrassing for her to have to wear a belt all the time, a constant reminder of what and whose she was. It would also mean, if we were serious about the 24/7 aspect, only fucking her in the arse or mouth, at the same time removing entirely the risk of pregnancy. Monique falling pregnant was something that terrified Steve as a married Catholic who didn’t agree with abortion. BDSM can vacuum up a strange group of internally conflicted travellers. Rob pointed out she was on the Pill. “How can we be sure,” Steve said squinting interrogatively. Jim observed with lascivious glee that the greatest impact of the belt was that it would prevent Monique cumming, the plate on the one Steve favoured covered her clit completely. Monique had astounded us with her intense and explosive orgasms. Commonly they’d last for several minutes, rising and subsiding in waves, and quite often causing her to ejaculate pulsing fountains of fluid, for which she never overcame her embarrassment, thinking it was “so dirty”. Precisely because her squirts disgusted her, Jim had collected some of the spray in a glass and made her drink it. She thought it would be urine that was coming out of her, with a temporary loss of bladder control during her titanic orgasmic contractions, but it didn't look like urine, and she said after sipping it that it didn't taste like it either. She was thoroughly familiar with the taste of piss by then, well, our piss that is. Sometimes we’d make her cum over and over again without mercy, just for the pure delight of watching her in the agony and the ecstasy of it. And as we’d found that pain increased her climatic potential, we didn’t hold back from giving her a generous helping of it. To locate the most powerful orgasmic nexus on her body, we had explored her topography thoroughly, like she was some suped up robot version of a Real Girl sex doll, and we were searching out all her controls and settings. Her three holes were always liberally used, and her tits and nipples imaginatively abused, all of which wound her up sexually. But it was her mental and emotional functions that seemed to produce her greatest libidinous states. The humiliation and degradation we dished out to her every session got her ramped right up to the point of almost instant orgasm at a touch. But to actually get her off the touch needed to be directly on her clit or in her vagina, whether she touched herself there while we were abusing her, (something she couldn’t help despite the harsh punishments she got for it) or with dildoes, vibrators, cocks, fingers, fists, etcetera. When Rob wondered what the advantage of stopping Monique cumming would be, I couldn’t help agreeing with him. We loved getting her to explode. Jim saw things very differently. With the strictures of the chastity belt her motivation could no longer be the enormous pleasure she got each session. It could only be her obedience and service to the desires of the group. She'd be the perfect sex slave. Just there for our amusement and pleasure and nothing but our satisfaction. It would test her commitment to us. With a tone of sensitive regret mixed with obscene realisation, Larry added that never getting release would likely keep her twitched right up, ready and open to anything all the time. “But she’s open to anything now,” Rob objected. As we discussed her as if she wasn't there, Monique was kneeling silently beside my chair, collared with a chain dangling between her beautiful but bruised tits their nipples tightly clamped, and just having had her evening meal of a piece of bread that we’d all jerked off onto to make a soggy, jizzy, porridge-like mess that she had to lap up out of a pet bowl and lick it clean. It was an amusing way of getting our cum inside her. So, I turned to her and asked what she thought of the idea. Jim looked annoyed. He was pissed off that I was including her when according to our rules she should have no say in what we did to her. But Steve showed her pictures of the belt on his iPad regardless. She was intrigued by how it worked and studied the photos and diagrams. It was mostly thick wire sheathed in plastic that would go around her waist and between her legs with an open circle over her anus giving plenty of room for defecation and intrusion. The cunt and clit were completely covered by a shaped metal plate that was perforated at the bottom for urine to run out. Some fine print stated it could all be easily cleaned while locked on with the use of a handheld showerhead and it was high grade stainless steel so no rusting. With her finger Monique traced the line of the belt as it would be across her body and between her legs taking in the idea of it. When she'd seen the video of the model demonstrating it, she said, “so if I were constantly locked in it, I really would have no relief…ever” She looked at Larry. “But you would take it off me for sessions, wouldn't you?” She got a, “no, probably not". She had other questions about what she could do for her “time of the month”, or “grooming down there,” or at the doctor’s if she was locked in the belt? The “doctor” referred to the check-ups we made her have at the sexual health clinic, not because we thought she’d have anything. It was just for sexual humiliation, having to go every fortnight like a , keeping her sexual slavery to the front of her mind. Back when she had joined us, out of our shared concern for disease-free sex we agreed with her and each other not to use anyone else - apart from allowing our three partnered-up group members to meet their conjugal obligations. Jim and Steve were married, and Larry had a long-term live-in girlfriend. That made the frequent sessions essential for the two of us who were single, being Rob and me. All we were getting was Monique. It was pretty certain that she didn’t go with anyone else. As well as the fact that she was transparently honest, the condition we left her in each session wasn’t conducive to stripping off in front of someone. In the end, we bought the belt and locked her in it. Larry gave her a key to use for the issues she’d raised. Technically ingenious as he was, he had sealed it in wax with the imprint of his signet ring in it. She could break it open, if necessary, but the key had to be presented still sealed in its wax at each session or a satisfactory reason given. If the reason was deemed inadequate, she’d be harshly punished on two counts, disobedience, and likely masturbation. Actually, she was mostly punished no matter what reason she gave, adequate or not. Jim and Steve were hard to hold back when it came to punishments. On the matter of punishments, Jim came up with what he called “compassionate challenges” that she could chose instead of a punishment. One of these had been offered to her after she admitted she’d taken the belt off to go to the beach with her , though she’d sworn she hadn’t masturbated. Nevertheless, she was going to be punished. As it was described to her, she would be bound, gagged and electro-tortured, first with wires attached to her nipples, her clit, and labia, and then by a dildo with electrode wires running up its sides that would to be inserted into her vagina. However, to avoid all that she could accept the challenge of going into a pub and convincing three random guys to let her suck them off in the toilet while she recorded it on her phone. As turned on by pain and humiliation as she was, she was utterly terrified of electro and would do anything to avoid it as Jim knew. It was he who’d devised the punishment and the “compassionate” challenge. That time, though clearly hating the challenge almost as much as the punishment, she opted for it, but only after begging it down to just two guys. In the end, she only managed one, and when this was revealed, Jim went to give her the electro anyway. She burst into imploring tears. Larry, always a soft touch, intervened and downgraded the punishment to a heavy cunt whipping, which probably turned her on rather than punishing her, masochist that she was, particularly as the belt needed to be taken off for it. I would have sided with Jim that time. Don't promise a slave and not deliver. We often played the video of her pub blowjob to tease her. The guy had only agreed to it if she got her tits out. You could see how humiliated she was as she watched the video with the guy only visible from the waist down, and her, tits dangling in the jerky image, head bobbing on his cock, cradling his balls with one hand while her other hovered out to the side somewhere holding her phone camera while she tried to turn her head enough to see if they were in shot. In the end the guy pushed her off and jerked himself off on her face and tits. Obediently, she’d kept videoing until he’d finished cumming. As Larry had predicted her enforced lack of sexual relief made her more willing and ready for our attentions than we would have thought possible. She was desperate to meet with us whenever we called her, often breaking the appointments and commitments she’d highlighted as sacrosanct at the very beginning. She admitted, in her prudish way, that she became hugely excited whenever we summoned her. The forced abstinence kept the “worst sexual thoughts” constantly in her mind with an “electric arousal” throughout her whole body so that our merest touch anywhere would have at the edge. After a two months Rob suggested we remove the belt and go back to having the “orgasmic Monique” he’d enjoyed so much. And Monique had asked at almost every session since she’d been locked in when she’d be released. Larry, always Larry in charge of her somehow, agreed it was probably time. Steve was uncertain but leaning towards keeping her in it. Jim wanted her to have to exchange something for her release. I asked him what he thought that could be. His answer stunned me. “Her .” In explanation, he told us that last week he’d seen Monique with her at the outdoor tables of a beach café, and he assured us we’d be impressed. Now, we’d all agreed that none of us would make any contact with Monique outside of sessions, for reasons of discretion and confidentiality, but also to avoid special side-relationships with her. So Jim had done the right thing when he first saw her that day and kept a safe a distance. However, he was drawn to getting a closer view of the who was fully on display in a minimal string bikini and looking “very interesting”. Monique noticed him lurking, and for some reason he couldn't explain, instead of walking off he went right up said hello and introduced himself to the using a fake name and claiming to be an old work colleague of Monique’s. The gave her name as Kathryn. He chatted with her for a moment, but she seemed to be sensing her mother’s tension and Jim thought a quick exit was needed. He decided, again he couldn't explain why, that a credible departure would be to ask for Monique’s number so he could contact her about a supposed “work thing.” Monique played along despite looking annoyed and anxious, and in exchange her gave her his mobile number to complete the impromptu performance. Up until that point, the only option that we all had to contact each other was via a group on the Messenger app. It was used to summon Monique and make session arrangements. There was no need for personal contact details to be shared, and we had agreed they never would be. Jim had now breached that understanding, and Monique had participated in it. Of course, it would only be Monique who’d be liable for punishment even though it wasn’t her fault. A few days later Monique compounded her transgressions by using the personal phone number Jim had given her to text him with a request to meet her ASAP. Their sins against the group’s rules piled up as Jim agreed to the one-on-one meet, which apparently had occurred earlier on the day he was telling us all this. At their clandestine get-together, Monique told Jim she didn’t know how to break it to Larry that her knew what was going on and this now confronted her with the most awful dilemma that she'd been desperate to avoid. It had all come out when Monique had found a BDSM website Kathryn had left open on their desktop computer, whether accidentally or on purpose. When asked about it she told Monique she’d been researching BDSM and chatting online with Doms for quite a while now, mostly whenever she was staying over with her grandmother. Monique was frantic. She warned her that it was no way to meet decent men and told her to stop. Kathryn’s response to that was to press her autonomy in matters of sex, since she was grown up now, she’d just turned 18, adding that anyway she knew what Monique had been up to all this time, and that that guy at the beach was involved in it somehow. Her slam dunk was that if it was good enough for her mother to be into BDSM, why on earth couldn’t she, because it all looked “really hot and a total turn on.” How had she found out about Monique’s involvement? It was the chastity belt; she'd seen it through a gap in Monique's robe one day and searched online for what it might be. "So, this little disaster is entirely down to you and your twisted friends.” Monique was steely angry. Jim had never seen her like this. It was like she was a completely different person and she let it all out. How could she steer Kathryn away from the dangers of the “creeps and predators” of the BDSM world, jabbing her finger at Jim, when she was being such a hypocrite? How did she ever let herself get dragged down and caught up in this disgusting depravity? She'd told Jim she'd come to a big decision for the good of everyone involved but mainly for her and Kathryn. She was going to stop all the obscene activities with us. That was it, and she’d asked Jim to explain it to Larry because she couldn’t face letting him know she was leaving after everything they’d been together. Larry and she had been together? I have to say, that bit surprised me whatever she meant by it. But when I thought more, it didn't. Jim said she’d ended her rant sobbing with her head in her hands. He tried to comfort her, so her could talk her out of it, but she shrugged him away. That was the end of his story. It was a shock. ‘What exactly is your idea, Jim?” I said. returning to the point he was making before this all came out. “Okay, this isn’t completely crazy,” he began. “If Monique agrees to convince her to join us, we put the in chastity, and Monique is released from her belt. That’s the trade” And with that he proved that it was indeed completely crazy. It was a terrible idea. “How would that help anything you’ve just told us?” “It would satisfy the ’s BDSM interests, for a start, and Monique could observe, maybe supervise. Less worry for her.” “Or more” I interrupted. He ignored me. “Think! Monique wouldn’t have to leave us. We’d get two women, one of whom is a virgin. At least that’s what Monique thinks.” That seemed to excite him mightily. "We can train her from the beginning of her sexual development. Condition her for total use and service." Larry intervened. “I better deal with this.” I agreed with that even though it irked me. It was best Larry talked to Monique. He’d found her in the first place - and had apparently had a close bond with her - from what we’d just heard anyway. And the situation was critical. Far worse than just losing Monique, which was bad enough. The risk of a female sex slave leaving our sort of situation in a bad and angry state hung over us. The possible consequences were huge. Where might she take her grievance? How would we explain it to anyone not of our bent? Hopefully, Larry could calm things down and smooth over her departure if in the end that’s what she wanted. Later that evening Larry called us back together. I expected to hear the worst, that Monique was leaving, and she was furious with us. But no. To the contrary, we learnt that Monique had agreed to her joining in, and to the belt swap, and to staying with us herself. I couldn’t believe it. Evidently, it had been a difficult and emotional decision. No surprise there. Monique torn by the dilemma of maternal responsibility versus continuing with her BDSM, which she had admitted to Larry she needed awfully. Monique had eventually conceded on the basis that Kathryn only did BDSM stuff with our group. Jim had won, at least Larry had made Jim’s victory. There was one condition that both females had insisted on. It would always be Larry who decided what happened with Kathryn in our sessions. It seemed Larry had worked his magic on the as on the mother. “You can all use her,” he reassured us, “But I’ve promised to make sure it’s safe and not too much for her. It’s the only way we keep Monique and keep her happy with things.” Sure enough, at the next session the turned up with Monique. The four of us, not Larry, were like dogs around the fresh meat. They were both wrapped in long coats. Uncharacteristically, Monique held hers tightly closed and had to have it removed by Larry revealing her naked as required and as she always had been at every session up until now, but this time it must have been humiliating in a different way for her, to be so in front of her . The ’s coat was gently removed, also by Larry, revealing her in a very short skirt barely covering her butt and a camisole top that showed a hint of her free breasts through it. She was eye-catching, taller than her mother like teenagers these days, and slightly chunkier. Her dark hair was tightly tied in a long ponytail, and she was wearing glasses. The studious look belied her open-for-business clothing choices. Enigmatic as her mother! Larry introduced us. Kathryn smiled but reverted immediately to an anxious blankness. Monique looked nervy. The instructions, given by Larry under his new responsibility were that Kathryn could stay clothed and just watch for the first part of the session to decide if she wanted to stay on. We got started as we normally would, but the atmosphere was far different from what I’d become used to. Less free, more cautious and inhibited. Larry did his best to keep it rolling though, and Jim was smiling like the proverbial Cheshire cat. First up, there was Monique’s punishment to deal with for her wrongdoings with Jim. Jim apologised to everyone, including Monique for what had happened, and volunteered to administer Monique’s chastisement. He loved punishment time. But Larry pointed out that since he was complicit maybe that would be unreasonable, and Rob stepped up. I wondered how this would go after everything that had happened. Would Monique refuse to go through with it. Or complain. Or exert her new power in the form of her and her reluctant return to us. Instead, she silently complied as Rob led her to her fate. Normally, I’d be wondering if her constantly aroused masochistic self was actually eager to receive this so-called punishment. But this time she was trembling slightly and deliberately not looking at Kathryn as Rob tied her hands to a ceiling hook. Her shame before her was palpable. It wasn’t the sort of humiliation I wished her to suffer. Rob tightened her bonds stretching her up onto her toes. As he pulled cable ties tight around her breasts they swelled and pointed prominently as if reaching for their thrashing. He took up the leather flogger considering his approach and touched one distended nipple with a finger asking if she could still feel it. She nodded. He pinched it hard and then rolled it in his thumb and forefinger finally twisting and pulling it then letting the tit spring back into shape like a taught balloon. Stepping back stretching the tails of the whip out tight and straight between his raised hands he readied for the strike to the nipple. “Good shot,” said Steve as the whip hit the target. Then he repeated on the other side. Rob took his time enjoying his task, changing the angle of attack to hit fresh areas of the breasts, pausing now and then to touch and manipulate the protruding forms that were fabulously sexualised in their degrading bindings, and making her count for every deliberately placed lash. The count for each breast got to 50 before he stopped. He took her down, let her rest for a few minutes before making her kneel face down arse up, where he tied her hands to her ankles and caned her well displayed and stunningly beautifully pert and rounded cheeks till she was crying out in pain with each stroke. Kathryn, if she was distressed by the harsh beatings and sexual torture of her mother let alone seeing her naked in a room of clothed overpowering men remained stoically focussed. Perhaps whatever she’d seen of BDSM online kept her emotions steady. Once or twice, she gasped a little or muttered “poor mum.” When Monique was untied, she rushed back to Kathryn, her bright red breasts bouncing in their cable ties. Kathryn leapt up to hug her, “Mum, are you okay?” Monique nodded, but said, “No!” and laughed. “Oh Mum.” Kathryn said holding her tight. Larry left them in their consoling embrace for a few minutes before telling Monique the next part of her punishment. I have to say, it astounded me. Maybe if Jim had thought of it. But Larry…? He told Monique to remove Kathryn’s panties and to go down on her. Kathryn was open-mouth shocked. Monique appeared uncertain and for a moment I thought, even hoped, that she would refuse, which would have been a first. But she knelt and began as commanded. Larry was behind Kathryn holding her in position, pushing her legs apart with his knees so Monique could get right in there. Kathryn’s eyes were blank I wondered what was going through her mind with her own mother lapping at her clit, and the sight of cocks, Jim’s and Steve’s, that were now pulled out thick and stiff in front of her. Larry pulled her camisole off over her head and held her arms down by her sides to prevent them instinctively covering her breasts, breasts that like her mother’s sat beautifully on her chest with good sized nipples and nice areola to set them off. I watched Kathryn with involuntary but undeniable lust turned right up to 11. Only 18 years old she was in full fresh bloom, her long smooth legs quivered slightly, shoulders leaning back on Larry, hips pushed forward, nipples hard, face flushed, eyes half lidded, mouth slack emitting barely audible little moans to accompany the slurp of her mother at her sex. After about five minutes, during which we were all reverentially silent, only the delicate cunnilingus noises filling the void, Kathryn’s breath quickened and held, and at last she seemed to cum with quiet gasps and a shudder. Her mother looked up at her, stood and hugged her, pushing Larry away, with tears filling her eyes saying, “it’s alright honey.” To me it didn’t seem alright at all. Eventually, Larry thrust his arm between them and turned Kathryn to face him hands on her shoulders. She was still in her short skirt, now marked in a couple of spots with moisture, her juice or her mother’s spit, and her hands were over her breasts. She cocked her head quizzically. What would come next? Where I would’ve expected timidity and shame she had the bravado of youth, steady in the face of the five older men, all bigger and stronger than her, all obviously eager to wrest their pleasure from her body. “Okay Kathryn,” said Larry, “you’ve seen what you’ve seen, and experienced a little. Do you want to stay any further with us today?” “I think so,” she replied. “Is that a definite yes or a maybe?” Larry said. “A yes. Definitely.” Monique looked conflicted but sighed as if in relief. “Ok. Some rules.” Larry gave her the basics, do as you’re told, don’t argue, don’t resist, don’t speak unless we ask you, always be totally honest with us about everything, if you need to stop us because you can’t carry on or because it hurts too much or its too hard for you, say the word RED very clearly to make sure we hear you. She agreed it all. He reminded her of what she’d seen done to her mother and told her that we would hurt her sometimes as well, particularly but not only if she didn’t do as she was told. She nodded but added, “maybe not as hard to start with, Sir.” Larry smiled all indulgent. She answered some questions he put to her confirming she was a virgin but that a boy had put his fingers into her lots of times during their kissing sessions, though nothing else, she didn’t think that counted, “did it?”. “Is he your boyfriend,” Larry asked? She shook her head. “Not now, Sir. I think I like older guys.” Larry explained the plan for her. “We’re not going to fuck you vaginally.” “It’s alright if you do. I’m on the pill.” She said. Monique looked surprised. “It’s to make absolutely sure you don’t get pregnant. We’re going to protect that part of you. But we will fuck you. In your arse and your mouth. Ok?” “I think so. I haven’t had any experience of that, but I guess you know what to do for me.” She continued as if she had to sell herself to us. Nothing could have been less necessary. “I have seen quite a bit online though and chatted with some people and Mum, and I’ve thought a lot about it all. You can feel…comfortable…with me. I really want to try all this stuff out… a lot!” she added, “But only with experienced men, like you.” And then with a sudden recollection of the requirement added, “Sir.” On Larry’s “start as you mean to go on” management philosophy, Kathryn had to be punished for her unauthorised orgasm, even though she hadn’t known not to cum without permission. It was house rules. “Do you understand?” Larry asked her after to telling her his ruling. “Um. Not really. But…” she stopped perhaps remembering the don’t argue rule. She was told to stand in the middle of the room feet apart holding her ankles and was left there her naked arse, now tantalising prominent beneath the hem of the micro skirt, and her still glistening cunt showing between. Larry talked quietly with us about what we thought we should do to her. “Haven’t you promised that you were going to decide everything in her case?” I said to Larry, hoping to edge any of the others’ sadistic ideas, especially Jim’s, out of the picture. Larry agreed and decided. Her mother, tits still bound, was told to crawl to the corner and face into it until we’d finished with Kathryn. It surprised me that she didn’t try to object, so she could supervise to make sure Kathryn was okay. Maybe she was glad not to be expected to watch her with us. There might have been a twinge of jealousy countering maternal protectiveness. She’d been our only slave, focus, fun, and desire, until now. Her was a competitor. A nubile and luscious competitor. For Kathryn’s punishment, Larry suggested we each needed to do something to her, even if it was just symbolic. It would bring her into the whole group from the beginning. Very generous of him, I thought cynically. But before we did anything Larry decided to warm her up taking her over his knee and spanking her bare arse, asking, “do you know what this is for?” “No Sir,” she said. He asked again as he whacked. She tried, “because you like it, Sir?” “Partly right,” he said carrying on spanking. “It’s because you came without asking for permission. And that is also why your mother is going to get punished again today. Your mistakes are also hers from now on, so be careful you don’t add to her troubles.” He punctuated each word of the last sentence with a hard slap. He stood her up again, she rubbed her eyes. They were wet, but she held her emotion. We got her back into the bent over position holding her ankles and each of us gave her two strikes of the cane on her bare warmed-up cheeks, as we'd agreed amongst ourselves. She took it surprisingly well, only a few times emitting a “yeow!” but holding her position. I was far gentler than I would be on her mother, but I think the others gave their all despite Larry’s request for restraint. Her youthful, rounded arse was a powerful temptation, and it received the blows biting deep into it with cock- stiffening beauty. Monique was brought back from her corner. “It’s your fault Kathryn came without permission. You must share the punishment.” She said nothing, she must have known she’d be set up. “But first,” Larry said, “As we’d agreed.” He unlocked her belt and took it off her. It must have been a huge moment for her. Freed at last after weeks in the thing, she rocked her hips side to side and made some small twerking and thrusting motions, sighing and moaning. We let her enjoy the moment for a while and then put her on the table on her back where Steve and Jim held her legs well apart and bent right back pulling her hips off the table-top, so her anus and cunt were facing straight up. Rob took up the tawse and gave the leather to her anal and slit areas with dedication. She held herself through most of it, only making some noise on the last few strokes. After all that excruciating treatment we all knew Monique would be at a peak of arousal. Jim and Rob took the opportunity to get into her together, sandwiching her, Jim underneath with his cock in her arse, and Rob on top in her newly available vagina. I was watching Kathryn the virgin, who was eyes wide at Rob’s enormous appendage splitting her mother open, while she moaned in pleasure. After a few minutes thrusting they stopped and got Monique up on her knees. Jim jerked off into her open mouth splattering her face in the process. After, Rob picked her up. He was strong as and handled her like a rag doll, shoving her on a bench where he tied her feet right back over her shoulders with her arse perched on the edge, forcing her undercarriage that he’d so recently whipped to be pushed right out in the open, and there he again drove his cock into her vagina that was now the perfect height for easy entry to its gapping invitation and at an angle to hit her g-spot with every thrust. He told her to cum on the count of twenty. He been looking forward to that for weeks and she didn’t disappoint. He pulled out as she spasmed and kneeling to the side to protect himself from what he knew was coming fluttered his fingers fast across her wide-awake clit till she squirted a great spray. Ramming his cock back into her for a few seconds of hard thrusts he pulled out again and she squirted again. Working her clit more, and she gave again. This kept going for a few minutes. You could see her cunt and arse contracting in waves, spitting fluid onto the floor every time he pulled away from her. Eventually, Rob stepped back and unloaded a huge splatter of his own onto her arse and between her legs. Steve and Larry gathered for a go at her. I didn’t. I wasn’t feeling it. Instead, I took some safety cutters and released her bruised breasts from the cable ties that had been keeping them swollen and I gently massaged them for a minute while Steve pounded her. While Monique was serving the guys, I took the opportunity to sit next to Kathryn for a chat. For some reason, perhaps the realisation of just how young she was, I asked about for her favourite subject at school. She told me it was Classical Studies. She seemed glad to have her attention diverted from what was happening on the other side of the dungeon and talked about an essay she was writing on the Parthenon, the place of the virgins, or the goddess Athena Parthenos. She seemed very well versed in ancient Greek lore and legends and articulate with it. It was interesting listening to her. But the diversion our chat offered was interrupted by darted looks towards her mother. “Will you all do that to me, Sir?” she asked finally leaving the refuge of the great Athenian temple of virgins. “No.” I said, “Not yet anyway. Do you want us to?” She was unsure, after a moment confessing, “I think I really do…eventually.” She got her answer sooner than eventually. We were coming to the end of the session's scheduled time when Larry told Kathryn he was going to fuck her in the arse. To me this was completely out of order. We had no formal agreement with Kathryn, no time to for her to consider, especially important given her age and ours. Everything was suddenly changing, had changed, in the two days it took to hook this virgin into our den. “What do I need to do Sir?” she said with instant and innocent willingness despite, or maybe because of what she witnessed happening with her mother. “Just do whatever we tell you. Kneel down. Now.” Steve moved to her head as she waited on all fours, her arse now totally free of the skirt that she pulled up around her waist. He took his cock hitting her face gently with it. “Open” he said. He played the tip against her lips and tongue, while taking one of her hands to his balls. She stroked and explored the area, while he reached under to her breasts manipulating them. After examining the shaft and head of the cock with her tongue, she took it into her mouth. At the same time at her rear, Larry squeezed lube generously onto her tight anus and fingered it in to her. She jerked a little as he did. Holding his rigid cock to it, and with some difficulty during which he instructed her to squeeze and release her anus to help suck him in, he drove determinedly through her resistance and into her dark passage. He drew back to thrust working into a steady rhythm. After a few seconds she pulled her mouth off Steve’s cock to say, “RED.” Larry held still and asked if he should stop, but she just wanted a moment. “Maybe go slower, Sir if I can ask for that. It’s hurting a bit.” “I’ll stop” he said. “No, Sir, I think I can handle it. Please. I want you to enjoy me…Sir.” So generous was her invitation, he spread some more lube on her anal area around his shaft that was still gripped tight in her young sphincter and began thrusting more slowly not stopping until he’d unloaded inside her baren cavity and claiming the ownership of first occupation. Getting her up off her knees he kissed her on the forehead. It seemed almost fatherly to me. And so wrong. Why wrong? It should’ve been fine. She was 18, well past the legal age, willing and desirable as hell, and she came with parental permission of all things. But I didn’t like it. And that concluded a weird and disturbing session. Over the next couple of days, away from the group, Monique transformed in my mind from an irresistible masochistic sex slave to a mother with a she loved with desperate protection. And I loved that version of her more than the one I’d been enjoying for months. Oh yes, I still felt a huge temptation to use and abuse her exquisite . Kathryn, hot and eager to be trained as a sex slave, but also just a girl, there with her mum as if she’d being taken along to a dancing school try-out. At night I drifted in troubled sleep. I couldn’t shake the twisted visions of Monique licking off her own , nor what we made Kathryn witness done to her mother. I would wake with a start feeling sick at heart and an enormous hard on. Poor Monique. Next session I went along only to say goodbye. I couldn’t do it anymore. Monique had tears in her eyes as she embraced me for the last time, embraced me for the first time like a woman not just a sex-slave. Did she feel anything of what I had over the last days? If she had, it must’ve been far worse than it was for me. I went to walk out of the dungeon and Kathryn who was completely naked stepped in front of me to say “Goodbye Sir, I would’ve liked you to have had me. But...” She paused looking awkward like the that she was. “That’s okay. Take care,” I said. “I’ll be alright, Sir. Do I still call you Sir?” “Just Mr Fraer will do,” I said as I turned away. I heard her ask Monique in a whisper, “Is he leaving because of me?” In a way I was. I gave them no reasons for my departure. The guys looked non-plussed, betrayed, and said very little, except Larry who wanted an explanation. I said I’d send him a message with my reasons. I never did. I guessed he was worried about whether I’d keep everything quiet. He was the only one whose partner didn’t know about the group. About a month later I was out walking one Sunday morning when I saw Steve with his wife coming out of church after mass. I’d only seen his wife a couple of times. She was nice looking in the way of wealthy woman, overly done up, though quite stunning for her fifty years and four . He parted from her in the after-church crowd and signalled me over. “Meet me at the pub on Wellington Street later?” Over a drink he gave me an update on the group. It was all different now. Larry had dumped his long-time girlfriend and personally taken full management of Monique, though she was still used by the group. Monique and Kathryn had moved in with him, and he had had a sort of ownership medallion made for Monique now she was free of the belt and had hung it from one of her labial folds on a short chain and piercing. It was a contentious move, badging her for himself. But Kathryn was now well used by all the guys, and everyone felt it was a fair trade – a bit less of Monique and a lot more of Kathryn. Kathryn seemed to submit to the treatment she received without complaint although with cries, moans, and screams, and sometimes with excitement close to what we got from her Mother. She was now in a permanent chastity belt to develop her tolerance during her training and conditioning and Monique was given responsibility for her 24/7 maintenance, until it was decided who would own her. Of course, with that arrangement the two women were culpable jointly for any of Kathryn’s failings and suffered the consequences accordingly. I remarked that ownership by a group member was new. Steve confirmed it was Larry’s idea on the basis that one of the guys needed to be responsible for Kathryn to eventually remove her from her mother’s supervision. There were only a couple of options for who it could be. The married guys were ruled out, and so it was between Rob and Keith. Keith was now back after finally separating from Cheryl. “You should come back,” Steve said. Keith was accepted no problem. And you could own Kathryn. I don’t think Rob’s keen, he loves using her, but doesn’t want the responsibility. I think he’s in love with Monique, poor bastard. “I happen to know Kathryn liked you. She was distressed that you left.” He continued to push the point, “She is something, I can tell you. I’d find the chance of having her impossible to resist.” He smiled, looked up musing. “But out of the question.” He flashed his wedding ring. The wives of the group were interesting. Only two remained after Cheryl left and she of course was quite different being our slave. Both Steve and Jim’s wives were distant from the group, but they knew one another and were both aware of their husbands’ extracurricular activities, at least, as far as it would be appropriate for them to be aware. They let their men have their little play group with “the BDSM slut”, which was apparently how Jim’s wife referred to her. Shrinking from that sort of kink themselves they were content to let their husbands’ more strenuous needs and urges be met elsewhere so long as nothing happened that would embarrass them socially and their men were safe and clean when they came to the marriage bed. Jim said once that his wife thought of it all as a kind of sport her husband played with other guys who all shared a beer together afterwards in male camaraderie. For both wives the group aspect was essential to their tolerance. They didn’t want any one-on-one liaisons with whatever “her” their men lured into sexual slavery, and definitely no surprise babies popping out creating obligations for financial support. The wives were entitled to total ownership of their husbands reproductively, socially and financially, if not sexually. Responding to Steve’s suggestion, or was it an invitation, I raised my concern about a with her mother being used and abused together by us. Not only that but a girl brought along and handed over by her mother into the hands of sexual users and abusers. Steve countered with the argument that if Monique enjoyed BDSM, and got the intense pleasure and release from it that we saw every time we used her, why wouldn’t she introduce her to it? It was only natural and even caring to bring her up in the way she had discovered was so satisfying. And bringing her into a group of Doms she knew and trusted was surely the wisest, given the predators that Kathryn might have been trapped with. Even better Monique could be with her while she was being trained and used to help her through anything difficult with tips and advice and if needed, consolation and support... It sounded good but I wasn’t convinced. Parents and should not mix their sexual lives. Perhaps I, who never thought of religion, was more Catholic than Steve in that way. Nevertheless, as I left Steve, my mind revolved around the notion of Kathryn as my slave. I’d never contemplated having a slave to myself. It had always been our group that owned them - Monique, Cheryl, Simone before her, and Heather before that, who was our first more than six years ago now. I’d never done BDSM with any other women, and probably couldn’t have without the courage I got from being in the group. However, the allure of something like Kathryn was undeniable, almost irresistible as Steve said, with all her supple tumesence, freshness, and innocence...although that was surely well and truly sullied by now. But despite her allure, I couldn’t see Kathryn as anything other than Monique’s . Owning her would be like having a teenaged myself, even though she was eighteen. The responsibilities of guardianship, while training and using her at the same time were too much to contemplate. Anyway, it was the mother not the I wanted, needed... even loved. Strangely, or not, the absence of Monique in my life brought an aching awareness of my love for her, growing out of the deep recesses of my heart like a sharp stalagmite driving into the wound it opened. It changed everything in my thoughts of her and left me more mortified with shame each day at what we had made her do to and with Kathryn, the she had been so desperate to protect when we took her on in the beginning. Now when I thought of her I could only feel her grief as she reassured Kathryn after being forced to go down on her and see the tears in her eyes as she hugged me goodbye and hear the cracking tremor in her voice as she bid me farewell. I yearned to see her again to make it all alright. But going back? That was impossible. I’d slammed the door behind me so forcefully it was forever. And according to Steve Larry had Monique now anyway. Of course! That had been Larry’s game from the beginning. the beginning. |
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