"Are you in a hurry?" Isabel shouted at the ceiling. "Everything seems to work, but I was hoping to give it a test run." She knew that Mr. X, the owner of that voice, was probably rolling his eyes, but she didn't care. She looked at the apparatus that took up a portion of the room. It was a metal "web," about ten feet wide and stretched from the floor to the ceiling, built out of solid metal bars that were crafted and wielded by the hand of a talented artist. The bars of the web were covered in a thick black rubber, and there were leather cuffs at several locations that could be slid along miscellaneous bars and secure someone of just about any size and shape.
At the moment, those cuffs were in use. There was a tight-bodied, beautiful young woman with pink hair that was being held fast. She was wearing thigh-high stiletto boots made of leather, a black thong, a chauffeur's hat and . . . well, that was about it, unless you counted the ball-gag.
"I assumed as much," came Mr. X's voice again, but this time he sounded amused. "You didn't need to get her all dressed up just to see if the cuffs worked."
"Don't be snide," Isabel replied, smiling. She knew that Mr. X was getting an eyeful. While the woman secured to the web was a California hardbody, complete with a golden tan, Isabel's body was soft and curvaceous. Her hair was black, her lips full, her breasts well rounded . . . about the only thing the two women had in common physically were nice tans and the ability to make men and women drool. Isabel's generous curves were covered by white leather pants and a white leather corset. "Mind giving me a few minutes?" she asked.
"The client will be here in about an hour. I'm assuming you'll be done and presentable by then?"
"You assume correctly," Isabel said. When she wasn't being a dominatrix, she was a twenty-three-year-old mall manager and had recently been in talks with Mr. X about taking over management duties of the Dark Eden fetish club, the very place they were currently at. She was a businesswoman, and she wasn't going to let the upcoming opportunity slip away. A new organization within the domination/submission domain was wanting to have their first conference at Dark Eden, and two representatives were supposed to be coming by later to discuss some "special equipment" needs. Isabel was going to be handling the business end of things.
The building of the special equipment, as well as the design, would be handled by the woman currently secured to the metal web (which she had also designed and built). The twenty-three year old girl was a certified welder, artist as well as a philosopher. She was also the most beautiful creature Isabel had ever seen.
"Well Torrie, it looks like we'll have to make this quick," she whispered into the girl's ear. But Torrie, the pink-haired girl in question, didn't exactly seem nervous. She actually looked anxious. Isabel tried shaking the web, but it was secure. "You did a good job . . . for once," she said, roughly grabbing both of Torrie's exposed breasts. Then she grabbed the girl's tough little nipples and pulled on them with some force, extending them away from the breast. She heard Torrie groan into her gag. So Isabel pulled harder. She held the distended nipples for about twenty seconds, waiting until Torrie's chest began to heave before releasing them. She drug her fingernails up and down Torrie's rock-hard abs. She did it just hard enough to leave temporary white-line crisscrossing that perfect skin, but not enough to do any actual damage.
Finally, she let her hand drift to the front of Torrie's thong. Sure enough, the captive girl was wet as could be. "You nasty little slut. You're actually turned on, aren't you? A bitch in heat . . . that's what you are!" Isabelle pinched Torrie's swollen mound through the moist fabric, and Torrie let loose a gasp of air through her nose. "How many things have you had in here?" she started, pinching again, "And you're still not satisfied? Disgusting!"
Torrie's entire body was warm with excitement. Isabel had become a much more adept mistress in the almost year that they had been together, and she knew how to make Torrie suffer the way she longed to suffer. But when she looked into those emerald green eyes of her mistress, she didn't see contempt or even anger. Rather, she saw total devotion and more than a little mischief.
Isabel released the pinch and started running a finger up and down Torrie's slot, pushing the girl's panties into her pussy as she went. With her other hand, she once again grabbed on of Torrie's nipples and extended it, twisting it a little bit as well. She could tell that Torrie was incredibly turned on because she was panting through her nose. Isabel let go of the nipple and gave Torrie's breast a quick slap, making the flesh turn pink. Then she grabbed the nipple on the other breast and repeated the process, but she never stopped stimulating Torrie's opening. Isabel's finger was damp, so she brought it to her mouth, sucked it clean and then sent it back to work. She wanted to fuck Torrie so bad and get that beautiful face between her thighs, but they were on a time frame. So she would have to settle for a little "torture" and a rain-check. Besides, Torrie had done a good job constructing the metal web, so she deserved her treat.
Torrie had been horny as hell all day, and Isabel knew just how to treat her. Torrie's nipples were throbbing perfectly and the slaps against her breasts stung just right. And that persistent stroking of her mound was infuriating. Then she felt her mistress push the thong aside and pinch Torrie's inner labia. ‘Just touch it, please?!?' she thought desperately. And sure enough, Isabel placed her thumb lightly on top of Torrie's clitoral hood and began to rub it in small circles. Torrie's body succumbed to incredible pleasure. She strained against her bonds and the metal web, but she was held fast as her toned body was ravaged by orgasm. She was dripping cum down her inner thighs and moaning happily into her ball gag. Finally, her body was able to relax.
Isabel wiped up some come with the fingers from one hand while removing Torrie's gag with the other. She shoved four fingers into Torrie's mouth, causing the girl to gag as she attempted to lick and/or suck them clean. Then Isabel withdrew her hand. "Your depraved natured knows no bounds," she said huskily. She moved in as if to kiss Torrie, but instead took the girl's bottom lip in her teeth, bit lightly on it and pulled outward. She held it for several seconds, released it, and finally kissed her slave full and hard on the lips. "We still have a while. Whatever shall I do with my nasty little whore?" She wandered over to where her purse was sitting and grabbed a string of vibrating pleasure balls. She went back over to Torrie's bound body, activated the balls and pushed them one-by-agonizing-one into Torrie's pussy. When Isabel was done, Torrie's legs pressed together in a desperate attempt to intensify the sensations emanating from her crotch. Isabel walked over to the wall, where a number of paddles were hanging. This was just one of many "playrooms" in Dark Eden that had its own toys. Isabel grabbed what was basically a heavy ping-pong paddle covered in latex and headed back over to Torrie.
The hole in the center of the metal web was directly behind the girl's ass, which was an intentional feature of the installation. Mr. X used to have old fashioned stocks in the room, but they weren't able to be custom fit to their occupant like the web was, and had led to several unwanted injuries, including Torrie. Torrie had still wanted to participate in some of the games at Dark Eden, so she had devised this device. The hole in the web allowed for paddling, but prevented people from hauling back and hitting harder than they should.
Isabel gave Torrie a fast spank on her muscular butt, then watched the skin turn pink on one cheek. On the next swat, she made sure to nail the other cheek. This was Torrie's ultimate reward, as the pink-haired girl was literally addicted to being spanked. It was her ultimate drug . . . her ultimate high . . . her ultimate reward. And with those little plastic spheres humming away inside her pussy and shifting a bit every time Torrie's squeezed her vaginal muscles after a swat, she knew that Torrie was in heaven all her own.
Torrie was biting her bottom lip and sweat was dripping off her brow. She had actually cum just from being spanked before, but the vibrating toys inside her body were taking things to a different level of ecstasy. Isabel had done similar things before, and she knew that they worked. Torrie's ass was lit up like a Christmas tree, and her only regret was that she couldn't stick it out to meet those welcome spanks.
Isabel stuck her hand in through the top of her pants and began to finger herself as she continued to spank her girlfriend/submissive. Torrie was one of the most sought-after slaves in Dark Eden on those occasions where slaves were auctioned or traded, but Isabel had become increasingly picky about who was allowed to sample Torrie's wares. Making Torrie's body a rare commodity increased Isabel's bargaining power, and both girls enjoyed teasing everyone. Isabel increased her fingering, desperate to achieve release at least once before they had to get ready for business. Since Torrie's ass was passing "pink" and working on "red," Isabel dropped the paddle and just grabbed that beaten flesh. She curved her fingers inward, realizing that she was already close to orgasm. Just being around Torrie got her excited! She slid her hand between Torrie's ass cheeks and thrust her middle finger into Torrie's asshole and began to wiggle it. Torrie's sphincter clamped down on the invader, but it was out of instinct rather than resistance. Torrie had endured MUCH bigger things up there than a finger in her sexual career.
"Muh. . . mistress . . . I . . . I'm going to . . . oh sweet mistress!" Torrie whimpered as she was over come with pleasure for the second time. The finger in her ass had been just the catalyst that her tortured body needed, and her juices flowed down her thighs to mix with the cum that had already dried down there.
Isabel's frantic fingers made sure that she was close behind. She leaned her head against one of the bards just behind Torrie's head, bracing herself as she climaxed. She never stopped moving that hand, but did pull her finger out of Torrie's ass. When her body stopped trembling, she finally pulled her hand out of her pants, thrust it through the bars and hooked it back until Torrie was once again forced to lick a hand clean of jizz.
"Good girl," Isabel whispered from the other side of the web. "But now we have to get ready for work."
Torrie pouted even as Isabel came around to uncuff her, but her mistress was right. And when Isabel kissed her again, she ceased to BE her mistress and became her girlfriend again.
"Let's hit the showers," Isabel said, handing Torrie her clothes. "It's almost showtime . . ."
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A little while later . . .
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Mr. X patiently was sitting in his office when his guests arrived. He had finished fucking his own slave, who also happened to be his wife Laura, as they watched what was going on between Isabel and Torrie. He enjoyed seeing Torrie dominated . . . for him, she was forbidden fruit. And Laura enjoyed it when he took his sexual frustration out on her. But Laura had gone back up to the front desk and had just buzzed him, letting him know that he had company.
Laura escorted two young women to his office. One of them was at least six feet tall and lean, with a fairly tight looking body. She had incredibly evenly tanned skin and had the look of someone not unaccustomed to physical labor. But what really set her apart were her hair and eyes. Her eyes were pale-blue and her hair was almost white. The woman had some definite Nordic blood flowing in her veins from somewhere that had been mixed with something else. Mr. X's first impression was that she was a formidable woman, particularly for someone so young. He pegged her to be in her mid-twenties.
"Hello," she said firmly, extending her hand. "You must be ‘Mr. X'?"
"Yes," he said with a smile, shaking her hand. "But since this is business rather than pleasure, my real name is Paul Smythe, and feel free to call me Paul." He normally didn't like to use his real name at the club, but recent suggestions by Isabel as well as his own normal business sense made it necessary from time to time.
"Elizabeth Price," the woman said with a brilliantly white smile. "Call me Liz. And this is Alice Stroub. My . . . companion."
The other girl couldn't have been more physically different. She was only about five-foot six-inches tall, with medium-to-long brown hair and a soft but pleasantly curved body. There was an angelic . . . almost innocent quality about her that was slightly captivating. While her companion was dressed in an all-black business pants-suit, Alice was wearing a purple cotton sun-dress, them hem of which came down to the back of her knees. The calf-high leather boots were the only thing she wore that looked normal in a fetish club, but Mr. X was willing to bet that her soft outer façade was probably a tad deceiving.
"Nice to meet you," he said, offering her his hand. She accepted it, stepping out from behind her . . . companion. She was most definitely the submissive, but her current stance indicated that she might also just be a little shy.
"Nice to meet you too," she said, her voice clear and actually quite pretty.
"Well, if you would accompany me, I'll let you meet the artist." Mr. X led the couple down the stairs towards the back of his office, down a few dark hallways until emerging in the auction room, where Isabel and Torrie were waiting. "Ms. Price, this is Isabel Turner and Torrie Jones. Torrie's the one you want to talk to about any custom equipment, and Ms. Turner will likely be running the day to day operations of Dark Eden by the time your conference rolls around."
Isabel had changed into business attire, but Torrie was wearing her "naughty chauffeur" outfit. Skin-tight, hip-hugging spandex pants tucked into black leather, stiletto-heeled boots, a black spandex tube top that exposed her washboard abs, a black PVC half-jacket that had long sleeves but otherwise didn't make it down past her breasts in front and her chauffeur's cap. The whole ensemble was topped off with dark John Lenin sunglasses and black dress gloves. Hell, she was the artist . . . she was allowed to act out a bit.
"Pleasure to finally meet you both," said Liz, sizing up the two women.
"Likewise," returned Isabel. "So, how about we tour the facility and you tell us a little bit about this organization of yours?"
"That would be great," Liz idly replied, looking at the web.
Mr. X and Isabel smiled, then the former said, "That was the first work I commissioned from Ms. Jones. She designed our new lounge tables, which you'll see in a moment, but we had to have someone else actually do the building due to the scope of the project and the immediacy of the need. But from here on out, we hope to use her unique talents on a number of projects," he finished.
Torrie blushed a little with pride, but she knew that she still had a lot to prove.
"Why a web?" Liz asked.
"Mr. X . . . sorry, Paul . . . forgot this is a business meeting," Torrie said, causing the others to chuckle. "I'm feeling a bit underdressed . . . or maybe overdressed . . . anyway, Paul had some old-fashioned stocks in here. They had a definite nostalgia value but they were very customizable. After some unnecessary injuries that resulted from poor fit, he decided to replace them, but needed something that slaves could be secured to for auction. The auctions . . . actually, I'll let him explain that at another time. But I thought that this design suited the atmosphere quite well, it's customizable to fit anyone placed in the web, and should help prevent certain types of injuries that had been taking place."
"I like it," Liz said. "And the rubber helps protect the captive. A little more extravagant than what I'm looking for, but impressive. Have their been any problems?"
Torrie grinned. "Not so far. We've done some testing over the last couple of days, but I think more might be wise."
"Of course you do," Isabel said, kissing Torrie on the cheek. Then she led the small party towards the lounge, where everyone was given a drink. Some of the patrons gave approving glances at the four women, and some were outright gawking at Torrie. The group sat down for a moment. Isabel pointed out the new "cage tables," that Mr. X had been talking about. They were basically circular plexiglass tabletops adorning steel cages, each of which were large enough to hold a human being on his or her hands and knees. A patron could store his or her submissive and/or other belongings down there and then lock the cage, taking the key with them as they enjoyed the various aspects of the club.
"Isn't that a little . . . dangerous?" Alice said, speaking for the first time since introductions.
"Not especially," said Mr. X. "This entire room is monitored by video cameras, and each member of security has skeleton keys with which to open the cages. And Ms. Jones installed a very sneaky backup."
Torrie got on her hands and knees and crawled into an open cage. Isabel knelt and locked the door behind her, taking the key. "See, each cage has padding on the floor for the submissive's comfort. But if the individual needs to get out and can't get anyone's attention," Torrie said, reaching up and pulling on a latch that couldn't be seen from the outside, causing the opposite side of the cage to swing gently open. "I don't believe that safety should EVER be compromised, even in the realm of sexual domination. Every submissive that is allowed in or registered at the club knows about the release switch. It became club policy as soon as the tables were built," she said, giving Mr. X a smile and a nod.
"Impressive!" Liz said. "Want to give it a try?" she asked Alice.
Alice was blushing from head to toe, but she was also enchanted with the idea. She wondered how much one would cost and if she could get one custom-ordered. She got down onto her knees after Isabel unlocked the cage and Torrie crawled out the other side. She crawled in, her hips almost instinctively beginning to sway. Her sundress was long enough that her privates weren't exposed, but she knew she was getting checked out anyway. Once inside and knowing what she was looking for, the latch was actually fairly easy to find.
"I think we might need one of these back at home," Liz said as Alice went through the other side of the cage.
"Liz!" Alice said, blushing some more.
"What? It's NOT like they don't know what we do," Liz pointed out. She turned to Torrie and Isabel. "I explained a little of this to Mr. Smythe, but I and some colleagues are looking to create a special group within the dom/sub community that revolves around individuals whose relationships run in . . . shall we say, a more animalistic approach? We're talking about people who have master versus animal relationships, such as a dominatrix and her dog, cat, horse . . . whatever. As long as the fetish involves treating the submissive like an animal. We're planning on giving each submissive his or her own show-name, and even registering such relationships. It's going to be called the FKC, or Fetish Kennel Club."
"Catchy," Torrie said. "How many people are you expecting and what kind of equipment are you going to be needing?"
Liz noticed a distinct business-like air overcome the girl, and she knew she had Torrie's complete attention. "Well, I want to recreate a typical show ring with a S & M flare, and . . ."
The group of them went on to talk about the logistics of what Liz required. Space wasn't an issue, as Mr. X was in the process of building an extension so he could host a number of events. But that also meant that the room had to be usable by a variety of groups, which excluded a number of installation pieces. Torrie finally suggested a "honeycomb" style of cells stacked two high around the outside, so submissives could be stored during competitions or for more general storage during other events, and these new cells could be equipped with the same safety feature as in the lounge cells. The rest of the requirements were superficial and easy to construct and take down. Liz actually started asking Torrie about the possibility of making portable cages. Torrie said she would have to think about it, since the existing cages were heavy and designed to be installation pieces, and that anything portable would require some serious design and materials changes. But she found herself excited about the challenge. She would need some help to finish it all on time, but Mr. X and Isabel both thought that could be arranged.
"Well, it's getting late," Liz said. "Mind if we finish the business portion of this up tomorrow?"
"Not at all," Mr. X said.
"I can get away shortly after noon," Isabel said.
"Wait, are you going to need the car?" Liz said suddenly to Alice.
"No, that's okay. We can go do stuff over the weekend. I'm sure I could take a cab over to Sandra's office if . . ."
"Nonsense," interrupted Isabel. She turned to Torrie. "You have tomorrow off, correct?" Torrie nodded, so Isabel turned back to Liz and Alice. "How about letting Torrie here take Ms. Stroub wherever she needs to go, and maybe even give her a tour of our fair city. Sorry, but I wouldn't trust a non-native in the cabs around here."
"Are you sure you wouldn't mind?" Alice asked directly of Torrie.
"Not a problem here," she said. "Just give a time and place . . ."
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Half an hour later . . .
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"What a day," Liz grumbled as she and Alice tossed their luggage on the king-sized bed of their hotel room. They had gone straight to the club from the airport, and had basically been on their feet all day.
"What did you think of the club?" Alice asked, kissing Liz on the cheek and then beginning to unpack in an organized fashion.
"I liked it. I'm a little nervous about not having a hotel on site, but there seem to be a bunch close by."
"Remember how much it costs to reserve enough of a regular hotel for something like this?" Alice reminded her. They had been to a couple of retreats for dom/sub relationships, and due to the sexual nature of the events, they had to reserve large chunks of the hotel to remain exclusive, as well as guaranteeing that they would keep anything illegal from happening. Hotels were charging heftier and heftier fees, so Liz had decided to try another option.
"I know," Liz said. "I like the place pretty well, and it sounds like that new room will be built in plenty of time." She glanced sideways. "So, what did you think about the artist?"
"She seemed pretty smart, and I really like those cages that she . . ." Alice blushed. Sometimes, she still got embarrassed how excited she got when thinking about getting treated like an animal.
"I'll get you one. I promise," Liz said. "I'm a little nervous though. I've never organized anything like this before."
"You'll do fine," Alice said primly. She bent over the bed, spreading out some of their clothes.
‘She's so organized,' Liz thought, scoping out her girlfriend's butt as she was leaning over the bed. She decided she just couldn't wait anymore. She looked in one of the briefcases and found Alice's favorite collar. It was a wide leather collar that was padded on the inside and lined with satin. It was her "big dog" collar. While Alice was still bent over, Liz snuck up behind her and slipped the collar around her neck. Even as she was buckling it together, Alice was obviously getting ready to get down on all fours on the floor. "No," Liz commanded. "Stay on the bed Bitch," she growled.
Alice rolled her neck and looked back. Liz was always amazed at the transformation the shy young woman went through. When the collar went on, Alice became Bitch, and she would remain Bitch until she used her safe word or until the collar came off. She wasn't human anymore. She was a sexual beast, and she was waiting to be commanded.
"Good girl," Liz said. "Show position," she ordered. Still on the bed, Alice straightened her spine locked her arms and legs in position, trying to remain perfectly still. The fact that she was trampling the clothes that she had just laid out was probably driving the girl nuts, but for Liz, driving Alice nuts was part of the fun. She stuck her hand under the hem of Alice's sundress and brought her hand up until it encountered Alice's silk bikini panties. "Spread your legs," she order. Alice moved her knees outward until they formed a perfect v-shape coming down from her hips. "Perfect. You're going to win best in show, aren't you bitch?" she growled, rubbing her girlfriend's mound through the soft material of her underwear. She pushed a finger through the material and wiggled it around, and she heard Alice whimper.
*SMACK* Liz gave Alice's hind-end a quick slap. "Quiet!" When she was satisfied that Alice was going to behave (for the time being), she started rubbing again. "See how much better it is when you behave?" she asked. She lifted Alice's dress up over her ass with her free hand, slid that hand under the portion of her panties that covered Alice's ass, and stuck her thumb in the girl's quivering anus. "This should get my Bitch in heat," she added, rubbing Alice's mound and stimulating her ass more and more rapidly. When she thought Alice move her body at all, she pulled her thumb out of the girl's ass and gave her another quick spank. "Stay!" Then she replaced her thumb with two fingers from that hand. ‘This is more complicated than it looks,' Liz thought, trying to rub Alice's moistened mound with one hand while finger-fucking the girl's ass with the other. But she managed to keep it up long enough that Alice began to pant.
"Mistress . . . (pant . . . pant) . . . May I cum?" Alice whined.
"Yes you may," Liz said with a smile. Alice always asked for permission to cum. After all, she was a good girl. Liz watched her girlfriend's body tremble as her sweet little frame was overcome with pleasure. Her panties were soaked all the way through with nectar by the time her body was able to recover. Liz pulled her fingers away from her Bitch's crotch, walked around and smeared some of Alice's glistening cum all over her flushed face. "Now stay while your Mistress gets ready."
Liz strode into the bathroom, not the least bit worried that Alice might disobey. Her Bitch NEVER disobeyed . . . at least not on accident. Liz took her time getting undressed. She stopped to admire her body, which was still in fighting trim. Sometimes she worried that she might get soft or flabby, particularly since Alice's cooking was getting much better. She had never asked Alice to become more domestic, but for some reason the girl seemed quite comfortable in that role. She was actually happier now than when her band had been on tour, and there weren't a lot of people who would walk away from the kinds of fame and fortune that could have been hers. But that wasn't what Alice wanted out of life. She just wanted to be a songwriter, a girlfriend, and periodically a sex-puppy.
When Liz came out of the bathroom, Alice was just where Liz had left her, and the girl's eyes were staring at Liz's tanned body with almost desperate hunger. Liz sat on the bed, reached underneath Alice's body and began unbuttoning the sundress, stopping on occasion to sneak a grope at the girl's soft breasts. After she got the last button, she had Bitch pick up one arm at a time and slid the dress off, leaving the girl in just her bra and cum-soaked panties. "I think I like you like this," she said. She grabbed a leash from off the bed and hooked it up to the collar. "Now, on the ground!" she barked, and Alice quickly moved onto the floor and back onto all fours. Liz pulled on the leash until Alice was next to the foot of the bed. "Now, lie down!"
Alice lay flat on the ground, her neck bent at an uncomfortable angle as she tried to keep her eyes on her mistress. Liz's foot appeared next to Alice's face.
"Now lick, little doggie. Lick your Mistress's foot."
Alice happily began to lick Liz's feet. Liz actually had very pretty feet, though she hated when Alice pointed that out. Liz thought they were too big. When her Mistress presented the other foot, Alice gave it the same dedicated attention.
"Now work your way up. Show position! Clean Mommy's calves . . . ooh, good girl . . . now her knees." Liz was going nuts. She wanted Alice's talented mouth between her thighs. Liz had been with a number of women before hooking up with Alice, but this young woman gave better head than anyone she had ever been with. Liz had never been with Jane, the woman who had apparently taught Alice and her friends to eat pussy, but she secretly hoped for the chance someday. And Alice LOVED to give head . . . she absolutely loved it. So Liz needed to make her wait, even though she desperately wanted to feel what her Bitch could do to her. "Now kiss your Mistress's thighs . . . that's a good girl, make sure to get every inch of skin."
Alice was doing her best, kissing her Mistress's taut thighs and caressing that firm skin with her tongue. She could see Liz's long, moist slot just inches away, but she knew she couldn't go after it . . . not yet . . . not until her Mistress commanded it. She blew a puff of hot air in that general direction, hoping to get Liz a little more stimulated and to the point where she would tell Alice to do what they both wanted.
But Liz knew Alice's tricks. "Bad girl," she said. "I didn't tell you that you could do that. Present!"
Alice stuck her butt up and out as much as she could. Liz leaned over and spanked it as hard as she could, making Alice yelp. Liz prevented herself from smiling. Alice hadn't yelped because she couldn't take it . . . she had yelped because she wanted another swat. So Liz gave her one, and both of Alice's now-pink ass-cheeks contrasted nicely with her purple panties.
"Now, back to the feet. Bitch is going to have to start all over again." Part by part, Liz had Alice work her magical mouth back up to Liz's thighs. Alice behaved herself this time, so Liz decided to take it to the next step. She back up until her back was up against the headboard of the bed. Then she tugged on Alice's leash. "Heel!" Alice quickly shuffled along the floor until she was directly next to Liz. Then Liz ordered her up onto the bed. "Now, suck on Mommy's nipples," Liz said, throwing her pet a curve.
Alice was becoming increasingly frustrated, but she did as she was told. She latched her lips onto one of Liz's small nipples and suckled. Although it wasn't what she had wanted, she began to enjoy the nursing sensation. Then Liz made her switch breasts.
"Now, kiss Mistress's stomach," Liz ordered softly. Alice laid a trail of kisses down her lover's long abdomen, stopping to run her tongue around Liz's bellybutton. Finally, Liz grabbed Alice's head and shoved it into her crotch. "Now lick my pussy, and don't stop until I tell you! Lick it like the dog you are!"
Alice didn't need to be told twice. Her lips quickly found her Mistress's clitoral hood and she began some light sucking action. She wouldn't be able to necessarily get Liz off quickly, but she would get the woman's level of arousal up. Liz had Alice's collar wrapped up in her fist, so Alice had nowhere to go, even if she wanted to. After she felt that her Mistress had been suitably primed, Alice went to work. She knew that Liz liked it fast when waiting for her first orgasm, so Alice started wiggling her tongue rapidly while it was buried in Liz's love-nest. She wished she could use her fingers, but Liz had become increasingly insistent that Alice use nothing but her mouth. After all, dogs didn't HAVE fingers.
"Good girl," Liz crooned. "Nobody licks cunt like my little Bitch."
Alice was genuinely proud, and she started sucking on her lover's inner lips before running her tongue deep into the trench. She wanted to make her Mistress cum . . . she wanted to make Liz proud of her Bitch. She was extending her tongue as far as it could go and curling it try and stimulate as much of Liz's vaginal cavity as possible. She breathed hot air over the entire area all the while . . . every little bit helped. When she knew that she had Liz close, she slid her tongue under the hood and went after the clitoris directly, and she soon had Liz's cum flowing onto her tongue and face. And Alice was smart enough to keep going. Her mistress hadn't said to stop.
They were in the middle of Liz's favorite part . . . that post-orgasmic phase where her girlfriend's continued attentions were warm and welcome while Liz's body was relaxed. She lay back, still with a firm grip on Alice's leash, and let Bitch do what she did best. Alice was taking it slow this time, letting her lips and tongue drift casually through the area of Liz's paradise. She kissed Liz's clit, then placed her tongue in the cleft and almost painstakingly slowly moved it downward, then back up again. She nuzzled her lover's mound with her lips, her nose, and then her cheek. After that, she began licking again, using long swathes from bottom to top. She started slowly, building momentum over the course of a minute.
Liz's brain was in a state of euphoria. She remembered the first time that Alice had crawled into her bedroom and eaten her out. Liz could scarcely imagine that this creature had once been a mild little wallflower, afraid of her own shadow and hiding from her sexual identity. But Alice had become comfortable in her own skin, and the results were extraordinary.
"Oh fuck," Liz groaned. "Bitch is doing it again! Gooooooooood doggie! Good girl!" she practically shouted as she stuck her legs up in air and experienced her second orgasm in just a few minutes. Her whole body shook in gentle, sensual pleasure. "Stop," she ordered, thought somewhat reluctantly. She had to give Alice a break every now and then, or she'd keeping eating until her neck was sore. "On the ground." Liz was beginning to regret not having brought any of their sex toys with them, but she HATED the looks she got when her carry-on luggage got scanned and their was a strap-on dildo in it. Then she got an idea for something they hadn't done it a while. She got off the bed and stretched out one leg. "Now, little Bitch, I think you need to remember what dogs do. Hump my leg," she ordered.
Alice blushed, but she huddled up against Liz's leg. She was actually allowed to hug Liz's thigh when they did this, so she wrapped her arms around that leg, staring lovingly up into her Mistress's eyes. She placed her panty-clad mound against Liz's leg, shuddering for a moment when the dampness was pressed more closely against her private area. Then she began rubbing her swollen pussy against Liz's calf, occasionally grinding her hips to get extra pressure. She felt so base when performing that act. It was so deliciously demeaning. Even though she wasn't told to, she started kissing Liz's hip as she humped her leg, but her Mistress decided not to say anything . . . that time.
"How desperately pathetic," Liz said from on high. "This is what you are reduced to . . . just an animal trying to hump her way to release. You want that, don't you? You want to cum on your Mistress's leg? Sometimes I bother why I put up with you."
Alice was grinning slightly. ‘You put up with me because you love me and because I give you lots of orgasms,' she thought. She didn't have much time to think about it though. She had been so horny and so aroused just from eating her Mistress's box that she was on the verge of cumming again herself. "Please?" she begged. "May I cum again? Please?"
Liz chuckled. Alice could sound so pitiful when she wanted to. "Yes, you may."
Alice clung to her Mistress's leg, the quivers of pleasure shooting out from her pussy to the furthest nerve-endings imaginable, then converging again with a whiplash effect. She was sweating like she had just run a marathon, and Liz's leg was slippery from the calf down. Alice's panties had already been to wet to absorb any more, so all of Alice's girl-jizz had managed to escape.
Liz smiled. "I think that's enough for now," she said gently, reaching down and unhooking Alice's collar and tossing it onto the dresser. She quickly pulled Alice to her feet and gave her a very human and very tender kiss. "I love you," she said.
"I love you too," Alice said. Then her cute face got stern. "And did you HAVE to start before I got stuff put away?" she said, looking at the mess on the bed. "Now I'm going to have to iron everything and . . ."
Liz cut her off with another kiss. "Let room-service take care of it. While you're out tomorrow, why don't you buy us some toys for while we're here, if you get the time? We've got a week of vacation, so let's put it to some use. Now why don't you get out of those panties and get that cute butt in the shower. I'll be with you in a minute."
Alice grinned. This was shaping up to be an interesting trip.
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The next morning . . .
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Alice was nervous about being in a strange town with a girl she had hardly met . . . for about two minutes. Torrie had shown up driving a cute little red convertible with the top rolled down. Apparently, California winters weren't exactly cause for breaking out the winter clothes. Torrie herself was dressed in comfortable looking sweat pants and a half shirt, but she still managed to exude a comfortable sensuality that Alice found a little unfair.
"So, where are we off to?" the pink-haired girl asked after Alice had finished making her doe-eyed good-byes to Liz.
"I have to go drop some paperwork off at my managers office . . . she'll probably ask us to lunch, by the way. I hope you don't mind. She'll pick the check, so . . ."
Torrie thought the girl was adorable. "It's okay. Really. Isabel said that I am COMPLETELY at your disposal until this evening," she said.
"Oh I couldn't . . . oh wait, you didn't mean . . ." Alice blushed. "Sorry."
Torrie had to pull over before she even got out of the parking lot because she began to laugh so hard. "Oh sweet . . . where did she FIND you?" she asked, tears in her eyes.
"Texas," Alice said meekly, blushing some more.
"That would explain it," Torrie said, regaining her composure and pulling out onto the main street. "So, what do you do when you're not . . . well, doing the things you do," she said, wiggling her eyebrows.
Alice smiled. She liked this girl. "I'm a songwriter. Liz is an aeronautic engineer," she said, feeling she needed to promote her girlfriend over herself. It didn't work.
"Cool. Have you written anything big?"
"A few things. I pretty much wrote everything on my friend's band's debut album. I used to be in the band, but I really wasn't interested in touring. I just love to write, so I'm going to concentrate on that."
Torrie glanced sideways. "That's cool. What songs did you write? Anything I might have heard of."
Alice got a little embarrassed when she talked about this stuff, but Torrie seemed cool enough. "I don't know. Pretty much everything off the ‘Lost In Texas' album and I wrote a bunch of songs for the new . . ."
Torrie had pulled over and parked the car in another hotel parking lot. She stared at her steering wheel.
"You . . . you're in . . . were in . . . Lost In Texas?" she asked calmly. Lost In Texas had been the biggest thing on the rock music scene for almost two years. Their first album had been in heavy rotation just about everywhere and they had opened for some of the biggest acts in the country. And Torrie had always thought that the lead singer had the single most perfect ass in existence. It was an all-female band with a lesbian lead vocalist, and they had basically revitalized a stagnant rock music industry, bypassing the "pop" scene entirely.
"Yeah. We just got done finding my replacement, and everyone is in the studio working on the new album." Alice was a little nervous.
Torrie just shot her another shit-eating grin. "I have GOT to get an autograph before you guys leave. My friend Jeremy is ga-ga over Lost In Texas. And you're quitting? That takes some balls," she said, starting up the car again.
"I . . . I just don't like the lifestyle that much. I mean, everyone wants to be in a rock-and-roll band when they're young, but it's just too much time on the road, too noisy and too much time away from Liz. That's just not who I am."
"Hey, I respect that. Knowing who you are . . . that's important," Torrie said, her voice taking a sad tone for just a moment. "Anyway, so what is this stuff we're dropping off?"
"I just had some contract stuff involving my change in status in the band. I'll still play some dates when the band goes through Texas, but otherwise I'll just be writing. Apparently, there's some other talent looking for material." Alice had noticed Torrie's brief shift in attitude, and was wondering what it had been about.
The two of them chatted all the way to the offices of Mega-Global Records, which was a pretty impressive building. Rather than dealing with a bunch of intermediaries, Alice was sent straight through to the office of the president of the company. The woman, a Hispanic hottie by the name of Sandra Lopez, seemed disappointed in Alice's decision for professional reasons but sympathetic for personal reasons.
"So, is Shannon around?"
"No," the woman said dejectedly. "She got called in on a homicide in some little town in the middle of nowhere. She won't be back for a couple of days. You'll be in town for a week though, right?"
"Yeah. I definitely want to see her, and Heather wants me to tell her ‘hi.' You're both coming down for the house-warming party though, right? Heather will be PISSED if you flake." Alice turned to Torrie.
"Definitely. Listen, I'll have to take a rain check on lunch. How about Friday? Sorry, but the board of directors just called an ‘emergency' meeting."
"Friday's cool, and we'll get to see Shannon." Alice gave Sandra a hug, then she and Torrie were ushered out.
"She seems nice," Torrie said.
"She is," Alice said enthusiastically. "She took a chance on the band when no one else would. Now, everyone in the company kisses her butt. She's dating a cop who's REALLY sweet. They met when a security guard was killed in Sandra's house. Since my friends Heather and Laurie just got a big-old ranch house built, and Laurie wants to show it off, they decided they needed to invite the woman who made it all possible, and Sandra wouldn't go anywhere without Shannon."
Torrie grinned. "Okay, you need to tell me everything there is to know about you!"
For the rest of the afternoon, Torrie had Alice chatting about everything, from the beginnings of the band to her introduction into the world of submissive sex. Alice had gone from being a puritanical, straight-laced wallflower to a lesbian and sexual submissive in less than a year, and she seemed to be coping admirably. Torrie took the girl to see all the sights of Springfield, including the ever-present fair down on the boardwalk. They were sitting on the cool beach, watching the waves caress the shore while they consumed ice-cream cones when Torrie got a call.
"Hey!" she said, then mouthed the word "Isabel" to her guest. "Still?" She sounded disappointed. "But we're still on for dinner, right? Great. No . . . crap, I'll have to go back to the apartment to take it. Sorry. I . . ." A shy smile crept over her face. "I love you too," she said.
Alice smiled. "So I'm not the only romantic around here." She cocked her head as they stood up and headed back to the car. "So what do you need to do?"
Torrie looked a little uncomfortable for a second. "I've got to take my medication. I was supposed to take it at lunch, but I forgot to bring it."
"Medication? For what?"
"Depression," Torrie replied.
"I'm sorry," Alice said, feeling as if she had tread on sacred ground. "I didn't mean to pry."
Torrie smiled. "It's okay. It's mostly for maintenance. I'm not psycho or anything. As long as I keep active, there won't be any more problems."
For some reason, Alice couldn't keep her mouth shut. Something about Torrie's forthright and honest nature inspired Alice to talk.
"Is it like manic or . . ."
"No it's . . ." Torrie tried to think back to the explanation she had been given. "You know how you get an adrenaline rush sometimes when something exciting happens? Imagine the reverse. My body was slipping into a kind of low-level of physiological arousal."
"What was that like?" Alice said.
"Nothing. I mean, most of the time, I just . . . I just didn't feel anything. Every now and then, something would get me excited enough to feel normal, but . . ." Torrie stopped and looked away. "God, you'd think it would've gotten easier to talk about. You probably don't want to be hearing this anyway."
"No . . . I mean, if you're not comfortable . . . but I'm glad. You're really honest, and I like that."
Torrie gave a wry smile at that. Finally, Alice got her talking about it again. Torrie had taken a year off after high school to try and figure out "who she was," which had actually masked the onset of her condition. After slipping further and further away for years, things had come to a head shortly after she had met Isabel. After a bad argument, which Torrie didn't want to talk about, her mind had snapped and she had wandered into oncoming traffic and had been narrowly missed by an SUV. After a week in the hospital, including several days under suicide watch, she had gotten the help she had needed. With the assistance of her friends, her psychiatrist, an active lifestyle and her lover, Torrie had made a full recovery and was enjoying the heck out of life.
Alice was surprised at how smart the girl was. When they dropped by the apartment Torrie and Isabel shared, there were stacks and stacks of books, all of which the girl had read two or three times. She was even more surprised when she found out that Torrie had never gone to college. She was getting multiple certifications in welding to help improve her employability. Torrie said that she didn't need a college degree to validate her intelligence.
As Torrie was digging out her pill bottle, Alice looked around. It was a comfortable looking apartment, with a mix of fine art and fancy accoutrements as well as used books, leatherworking supplies and a long surfboard hanging on the wall. Alice noticed some . . . interesting pictures . . . scrolling across the computer screen.
"Oh God! Is that you?!?" she gasped.
Torrie wandered over, washing her pill down with a glass of orange juice. "Oh crap!" she said, actually blushing. There was a picture of Torrie, tied up and on her hands and knees, with a large black cock spewing jizz all over her face. "I REALLY need to talk to Isabel about getting a new screen saver." She powered down the computer.
"You have sex with . . . guys?" Alice said, feeling a little queasy.
"Just when Isabel wants me too. It's not as bad as it sounds. Seriously, there's nothing wrong with it. People do it all the time . . . sometimes they're just experimenting. For Isabel and me . . . well, it's part of the scene."
"Do you . . . like it?" Alice asked.
Torrie shrugged. "Sometimes. I'm a lesbian . . . don't get me wrong on that. Guys are just kind of . . . toys. It can actually be kind of fun if it's a guy who gets it. That guy . . . the one in the picture . . . was my friend Jeremy. He'd had a crush on me for years, made worse by the fact he knew he couldn't have me. When Isabel decided she wanted to take me to Dark Eden, she knew I might be in a position . . . so to speak . . . to be taken by a male. She wanted to make sure I'd be okay with it, so she let me pick the guy for the trial run. Jeremy was the only one I trusted enough. We actually get along better now than we did before."
"That's sweet . . . in a perverted sort of way," Alice said. "I don't know what I would do if Liz every wanted me to do . . . that. I've only been with a couple of other people besides her . . ."
"I wouldn't stress it," Torrie said. "There are a lot of people in S&M that don't swing at all. Personally, I like the bondage part best . . . and getting spanked . . . especially the spanking. As long as we kept those things, I really wouldn't care if I we didn't bring anyone else in anymore. What about you? What's your favorite part?"
Alice chuckled. "This will sound lame but . . . I just really like going down on her," she said.
"Lucky girl," Torrie said. "I don't think that's lame at all. But so you and Liz never swing?"
"A few times. I'm . . . I still get really nervous sometimes, so both Liz and I have to REALLY trust someone before going that route. I don't see how you can . . . sorry, I don't mean to sound rude or anything, but I don't get how you can be with all these people."
"It's actually not as hard as you think. The only time I have sex with people I don't know is at the club, and Isabel DOES know them. And there are really specific rules the club has to protect the health of the submissive, from required bloodwork to heavy security. Outside of the club, the only people we ‘share' me with are our friends. Except the time I jerked off those guys at the strip-club. Does that count?"
"Why did you do that? Did you just walk up and say, ‘Hey, want a hand job?'"
"No. I was dancing that night, and Isabel recognized them, so . . ."
"Wait! You were dancing? You're a stripper too?"
"Once a week. It's fun, and it gives me some extra spending money."
Alice sat down on the sofa. She felt horribly boring next to this wild and sexy woman. Then, it was Alice's turn to get a call on her cell phone.
"Hey. No, we're over at their apartment," she said, glad to hear her lover's voice. "So, did you guys work everything out? Great! No, dinner and a show sounds fun. Okay, I'll tell her. Love you." Alice hung up. "It looks like we're going out tonight." She scrunched up her eyebrows. "Unfortunately, she sounded . . . amused. I think our mistresses may be up to something."
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Across town . . .
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"She suspects something," Liz said after hanging up the phone. "I'm really not good at hiding stuff from her," the tall woman said lovingly.
Isabel smiled. "Hey, I had you call because I never even TRY to slip stuff past Torrie. She's a hell of a lot smarter than I am. But hey, if you've changed your mind . . ."
"Well, I'll give her a chance to bow out," Liz said. "We actually don't do this sort of thing very often. I just . . . sometimes I think she wishes she could be more exciting. She doesn't accept that she's all I need."
"They seemed to be having a good time when I called," Isabel replied. "But if you want to take a little more time . . . I mean, I think it would be fun, but if you think Alice needs more time . . ."
The two women had actually concluded business much earlier in the day, with Isabel acting as Torrie's business agent. Afterwards, they had just been shooting the shit. Liz didn't have a chance to talk shop very often, and Isabel realized she didn't have very many friends. A lot of colleagues, yes . . . but few friends. The two women were already quite comfortable with each other, and had discussed many of the same topics as their submissive counterparts. After hearing what a genuine and honest person Torrie was, Liz thought that her lover might enjoy the girl's company.
"We'll see," Liz said. "Alice . . . she got burned kind of badly once. This girl named Jamie who took advantage of her naiveté . . . Alice has been really careful about opening up to people ever since. If she trusts Torrie, then I think things could be fun."
"Torrie . . . I don't think she's really capable of lying anymore. Ever since her . . . recovery, she's had this weird belief that she fell behind in life . . . that she should have accomplished more than she has. She had a mid-life crisis when she turned twenty-three. She decided that she didn't have time to be anything but exactly who she was. She made sure that all her friends knew exactly what she did and what she was into. Hell, most of them have participated at some point. She's decided honesty is the best policy ever since."
"She sounds like a handful," Liz said with a grin.
"If you only knew . . . I've got enough rope at the apartment to pitch a circus tent and enough paddles to spank an entire Catholic school for girls." Isabel blushed. "She can be a bit . . . lustful."
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A few hours later . . .
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"I can't believe you brought me here!" Alice whispered. They were situated in a booth at the Pretty Kitty Gentleman's club, the same club where Torrie was up on stage, stripping to the applause of an appreciative crowd. Alice had never been to a club like that before, and the table of the three women had been drawing quite a bit of attention.
Liz grinned. The four of them had gone to a fancy dinner at a place called Boardwalk's Best, then she had surprised her girlfriend when she and Isabel announced their intention to come here and make Torrie dance. Liz had gone to places like this a lot back in the day, particularly when she was looking for quick tail. But tonight was about possibly expanding Alice's horizons. And while the girl may have been blushing, Liz noticed her girlfriend's gaze rarely left Torrie's perfectly toned body.
"Hey hon," Liz said, "why don't you go tip the dancer? It's customary amongst their people," she added, handing Alice a dollar bill, folded in half lengthwise.
"But what do I . . ." Alice started.
"Just go up to the stage and wait," Isabel said, grinning behind her hand. "Torrie will know what to do." Then, Liz gave Alice a firm push towards the stage with one shoe.
Alice walked forward until she was next to the stage, and a few people in the crowd jeered. Torrie was smiling and shaking her head when she very . . . slowly . . . crawled her way across the stage. Alice still wasn't sure what to do. Then Torrie sat with her butt on the very edge of the stage, then placed one knee on each of Alice's shoulders. She leaned back, placed her head on the stage and then lifted her body up using her strong shoulder muscles. She rotated her hips, giving Alice a very good view of the dark thong that Isabel had insisted she wear all night. Alice could have sworn she saw a damp glistening from the fabric, but it was hard to tell under strobe lights. Then Torrie disentangled herself and draped her legs over the edge of the stage again, pulling her thong out at the side and allowing Alice to slide the dollar into place.
Torrie leaned in and wrapped her legs around Alice's hips. "I guess this means you want a dance?" she whispered into the girl's ear.
"Torrie!" Alice said. She looked back at Liz, who pointed at Torrie, then at the seat next to her, then made a twirling motion with her finger. Alice was blushing when she turned back to the gorgeous dancer. "I guess so," she said, trying not to meet the sexy dancer's gaze.
Torrie put a finger under Alice's chin, raised the girl's face and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek. "I don't know what they've got planned," she said, reaching down and groping Alice's ass through her cotton sundress, "but I'm kind of curious to find out."
Liz was watching this with great interest. She saw Alice's knees buckle a little bit. Liz leaned over to Isabel. "Damn, I was right! She is SO much Alice's type."
"Are you really sure then? I don't want there to be trouble . . ."
"No, it's okay. I'm pretty sure Alice won't be wanting to leave me," Liz added with a smirk. "But Torrie definitely has her motor running now. Are you sure you've got enough rope?"
Isabel rolled her eyes. "For the last time . . . yes, I'm sure." They had to stop their conversation as Alice rejoined them. About six minutes later, Torrie's rotation was up and she quickly headed over to the group. Liz whispered something into Torrie's ear, and Torrie started grinning.
"I believe its time for your dances," Torrie told the shy girl as she started to move to the music.
Alice didn't know what to do or say, so she sat back and let Torrie do her thing. Alice's breathing got harder as the pink-haired girl's clothes began coming off and she pressed her body against Alice's. Alice was gripping the arms of the chair firmly until Liz grabbed one of her hands and slammed it onto Torrie's backside. Torrie bit her bottom lip, grabbed Alice's OTHER hand and made it follow suit. She then pressed her thong-clad crotch against Alice's and humped ever so gently. Alice let out a small groan, then felt embarrassed about it. But Liz just kept smiling at her.
Torrie didn't stay between Alice's legs the ENTIRE time for the next couple of songs, but it was certainly her favorite place. Alice was given the best view in the house of Torrie's wares, and she was encouraged to touch anything she felt like. But when Liz and Isabel said that it would be the last song, Torrie was back between those delicate thighs of her friend, humping gently away. Alice almost instinctively let her legs spread so Torrie could squeeze even closer, and her hand again found their way to Torrie's ass cheeks.
"Let it happen," Liz whispered into her lover's ear as Alice began to panic, feeling the familiar stirring deep within her womb.
"No . . . I can't . . . not here . . ." Alice said, trying to suppress the pleasure growing inside of her.
"No one will know but us," Liz whispered in her ear.
Meanwhile, Isabel leaned in next to Torrie. "Don't stop. Until Alice actually asks you to stop, keep those hips moving."
"Your wish is my command," Torrie replied. She liked the feel of Alice's body . . . so soft and comfortable. She knew that some of the other patrons were probably watching, regardless of what Liz said. That's the way guys were in places like that . . . they liked to watch. She could feel Alice's fingers digging into her ass as she humped the girl to the brink of sanity. Then she slowed down, keeping her hovering just on this side of the pleasurable abyss. Torrie may have been a bit of a masochist, but that means she understood sadism. She wanted Alice to want it . . . to ask for it . . . no, to beg for it.
Alice wondered what Torrie was waiting for. She was sweating like Martha Stewart when she heard the sound of a gavel, and she needed to cum so bad it almost hurt. Why was her mistress doing this to her? ‘Oh yeah,' Alice thought irritably. ‘Because she's a sadistic bitch. But that's kind of why I love her.'
"Harder," Alice whispered. "Please? I need it."
Torrie pushed her mound directly against the few thin layers of fabric covering Alice's opening and rubbed as hard as she could. She could feel Alice's body trembling beneath her . . . she knew what was happening, though the girl's outward appearance changed very little. But Torrie could feel the moist spot in the front of Alice's dress grow as she climaxed in that cheesy little strip-club chair.
Alice's breathing had been quite labored, but her chest was heaving a little less than before as she basked in a slightly-shamed afterglow. She felt Liz kiss her on the cheek.
"Well," the dominatrix said, "I think it's time to go back to the hotel." She handed Alice a small wad of bills. "Now pay the nice lady so we can leave."
Alice's brain was still foggy. She had expected that something more was going to happen that night, but she was apparently wrong. She felt a twinge of regret in her heart . . . she loved Liz, but she REALLY wanted to fuck Torrie at that moment . . . or maybe to be fucked by Torrie. She smiled slightly, took the money and shoved it into the front of Torrie's g-string, tracing the woman's slot with one finger before withdrawing her hand. "Thank you for the dance," she said, more huskily than usual.
"Any time," Torrie replied before Isabel sent her to dance for another customer.
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A few hours later . . .
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Alice lay exhausted in her lover's arms, the cool covers of the hotel bedsheets pulled up around them. After getting back to the hotel, Liz had slapped a collar on Alice and fucked her silly, and they had both thoroughly enjoyed themselves.
"Liz, why . . . why didn't we do stuff with Isabel and Torrie?" Alice asked at last. "I thought . . ."
Liz chuckled. "Believe it or not, I didn't want to rush you."
"What are you talking about? I've known Torrie for two days, and you had her make me cum in a public place!"
"You weren't resisting too hard," Liz pointed out. "So, does that mean you WANT to do something with her and Isabel?" Liz asked.
Alice tucked her head in. "Only if you want it," she mumbled.