Tricked into Lesbian submission - Copied

[hirarandi]

The opportunity was too good not to take...even if it meant leaving my homeland, England, and moving to America; Boston to be exact.

At only twenty-one, I had already made a name for myself as a financial whiz kid and was head hunted by a few companies right out of college (which I started a year early, skipping a grade in middle school). 

So I left my small town in the county of Yorkshire and headed across the ocean, leaving Europe for the first time. I was both excited at the opportunity and terrified as I had never been on my own before...but I loved a challenge.

Regardless, I took the risk and moved to Boston. To my surprise, Boston was a relatively small city, compared to London, where I went to college; yet, like London, it oozed history which was something that intrigued me. 

I arrived a week early and toured the college district, including Harvard (I had attended Oxford and wanted to know how they compared) and did the whole history walk through Boston.

When I first arrived at the bank, I could sense many were not happy with my hire. I was younger than everyone in the company, even the tellers, and not being American seemed to also put a target on my back.

Over the first couple of weeks, I tried to befriend some of my coworkers, and eventually found a small group of women all only a couple years older than me. And although I didn't see any of them being besties for life, I did begin to have some remote semblance of a social life.

The bank was giving a lengthy long weekend with Easter so early this year, so April 1st was the last day of work before a four day weekend. The girls suggested we celebrate by taking me out on the town, starting at a bar called the Le Chateau Club at nine. I hated bars, as I rarely drank at all (I lost control the last time I drank a lot and ended up in bed with a much older man) and if I did it was usually a glass of wine, but decided to go in my attempt to fit in with my new American friends.

Becky declared the day before as we were getting ready to leave for the day, "And we all 'slut it up'?"

Tamara agreed, "We're all single, so showcase what The Lord gave ya."

Amber added, "You in, Dione?"

I nodded, "Of course, although I'm not sure I have anything in my wardrobe that says slut it up."

"I'll bring something for you," Amber offered.

"Really?" I asked, sharing clothing something only friends did.

"Everything Amber owns is in the slut it up category," Tamara joked.

"If you got it, flaunt it," Amber shrugged, while cupping her large breasts and adding, "And I got it."

I laughed, finally feeling like I had found some friends, although Becky clearly wasn't a big fan of me.

"What size tits do you have?" Amber asked.

"36C," I answered, even though the question was rather personal.

"I know exactly what outfit will work for you," Amber said, looking me over.

"Although you are incredibly white...don't they have sun in Europe?" Amber asked.

I joked, reflecting on the crazy amount of rain we did get, "We have clouds."

"Don't you have tanning beds?" Becky quipped.

"Then you better wear pantyhose," Amber said, ignoring Becky, before adding, "either beige, tan or mocha."

"Okay," I nodded, although I never wore pantyhose, seeing them as a man-made invention to sexualize women.

Becky added, "No fucking way."

"What?" Amber asked.

"If we're taking royalty out for a night of American debauchery, she isn't going to be all prim and proper like that fucking duchess chick who is always pregnant."

"Do you mean Princess Kate?" I asked, who I admired immensely as a woman of class.

"Yes, that fucking chick," Becky nodded."

"She dresses with class," I point out.

"Exactly," Becky agreed, "and tomorrow night is not about class, it's about ass."

"How poetic," Tamara laughed, shaking her head.

"Meaning?" Amber asked, clearly annoyed by Becky's usual meandering without a point.

"She needs to be in thigh highs," Becky declared.

"Delicious," Tamara nodded in approval.

"Agreed," Amber also nodded. "Do you own any thigh high stockings?"

"No, I don't even know what they are," I admitted.

"Fuck, you are precious," Becky said, shaking her head, her tone implying she didn't mean it as a compliment.

"Go to Victoria's Secret on the way home and buy some, and probably a thong," Amber instructed, "I'm guessing you only have grandma panties."

I didn't know what grandma panties were, but I shrugged lying, "I have a wide range of knickers."

"Knickers," Becky scoffed. "You really are fucking precious."

Tamara scolded, "Stop picking on Dione, she just comes from a different world."

"Yes, Mars," Becky quipped.

"Enough," Amber said, raising her voice. "Stop being such a bitch, Becky. You are making us Americans look judgemental and petty."

"Whatever," Becky said.

"I'll buy what you suggested," I said, desperate to fit in.

"Great," Amber smiled, "tomorrow will be the beginning of a new world for you."

"I can't wait," I said, feeling like I was finally beginning to fit in...a little bit at least.

After work, I purchased a few new things including a couple pair of thigh high stockings (which were just pantyhose without the top half I learned), a new lace bra with a matching thong and three new sexy pairs of knickers. 

I was ready for my Americanization, I chuckled to myself.

.....

The dress Amber brought for me was not something I would ever wear at work and would never have worn it before this day. I even pointed out that the red dress, which was beautiful, but short, would barely hide the top of the lace top stockings.

Becky called me a prude, continuing to judge me.

It pissed me off and made me want to prove to her I wasn't a stick in the mud. "You know, in England, most see American women as prudes," I countered.

"How so?" Becky questioned, challenging me.

"It's all window dressing," I continued.

"What the fuck does that even mean," Becky questioned, clearly perturbed by being challenged by me.

"You talk the talk," I responded, "but you don't walk the walk."

"And you do Princess Virgin?" Becky countered, her voice dripping with disdain.

"I've shagged lots of blokes," I countered, which was kind of true, depending on your definition of 'lots'.

"Are you even speaking fucking English?" Becky questioned.

"For Christ's sake," Amber sighed, "give it up, you two. You fight like a married couple."

Becky laughed, glaring at me, "Do princesses eat cunt?"

I never use the 'c' word, and I was shocked by the turn of the conversation. I stammered, "G-g-god, no."

Tamara finally spoke, "You don't know what you're missing, girl."

"You're a lesbian?" I asked, surprised, because she always talked about Bart, a security guard whom she was trying to seduce.

Tamara laughed, "No, I love cock too much, but I don't mind some pussy on occasion."

Becky added, "Stop tainting our princess virgin, you may make her pass out in shock."

Amber added, "Don't judge Dione, until you've tried it. A woman knows another woman's body a lot better than oblivious men."

"I second that," Tamara declared, before adding, "but I still need some hard man meat."

"Every couple hours," Becky quipped, finally turning her acid tongue on someone else.

"I wish," Tamara laughed.

"So, we'll meet you at nine," Amber said to me, shaking her head at the other two.

"Sounds great," I nodded, looking forward to an evening away from work, although in a perfect world Becky wouldn't join us.

At home, I had two glasses of wine, hating paying for overpriced, watered down drinks. I put on the matching lace bra and panties, and the thigh high stockings, and looked in the mirror. The attire definitely made me look sexy, unlike what I usually wore. I wondered what Jimmy, my last boyfriend who had called me a pretentious feminist, would think if he saw me in such an outfit...he'd probably keel over in shock or shag me senseless...man, I could use a shag.

I put on the dress and realized that if I even sat down, the top of the lace stockings would be visible, let alone if I danced with any sort of exuberance. But Becky's words and disdain aimed at me made me ignore my better judgement and go out in public dressed in the sluttiest outfit I had ever worn.

I called for a taxi, already feeling just the hint of a buzz since I drink so rarely, and headed to the Le Chateau Club. Just as I paid the taxi driver, I got a text from Amber:

We are running late. But we will be there. 

I texted back, not liking being at a bar by myself:

Please hurry.

She texted back:

Be there as soon as Becky is ready. Oh, get us a table.

Figures, I sighed to myself.

I wasn't going to wait outside dressed as I was, the wind very chilly, so I walked into the club.

In London, I only went to pubs, so I wasn't really ready for the intense bass that echoed throughout the club as I walked in.

After paying the cover, I walked into the bar. It wasn't overly busy and I quickly went and grabbed a table near the dance floor, but away from the big speakers.

Within seconds, a very pretty waitress came and took my order. I ordered a glass of wine and began to look around. As I scanned the dance floor, which was still pretty empty, I realized that they were all women. A realization beginning to form, I quickly scanned the rest of the club and confirmed my suspicion...this was a lesbian bar. I shook my head, trying to figure out why they would choose this bar.

Before I had time to really process this information, a very pretty older woman, holding a cosmopolitan, asked, "May I join you?"

I stammered, instantly overwhelmed by the situation, "I-I-I'm just waiting for my friends."

The pretty brunette sat down beside me and smiled, "I'll just sit down for a drink then and keep you company."

"O-o-okay," I agreed, not sure what else to say. 

"My name is Laura," she greeted, extending her hand.

"I'm Dione," I revealed, shaking her hand, wishing my friends would get here, but instead the wine did.

"What a unique name," she smiled warmly.

I joked, "It's impossible to find on key chains or other tourist items."

"I suppose so," she laughed, seeming to listen to every word I said. After a pause, she asked, "First time here?"

"Is it that obvious?" I asked, half my wine already downed.

"You seem rather nervous," she properly observed.

"I am," I nodded, "I had no idea I was coming to a," I paused not wanting to offend her.

"A lesbian club," she smiled, finishing my sentence.

"Yes," I nodded.

"You're straight, I'm guessing," she assessed correctly again.

"Yes," I nodded, thankful to get that out of the way. I was enjoying the conversation, but wanted to make it clear I wasn't interested in anything sexual.

"Then I'd better wait with you until your friends arrive," she suggested, explaining, "You're fresh meat here and I guarantee you the hungry sharks are already sizing up their prey."

"Really?" I asked, looking up and glancing around the area to see if any women were looking my way. Although no one was obvious like a guy would be, I did notice a couple of women seeming to be looking in my direction.

"Oh yes," she nodded, "the club is a great place to hang out with fellow lesbians and drink and dance, but it's also a great place to find your next conquest."

"Oh," I said, finishing my third glass of wine and checking my phone wondering where the hell they were.

Laura waved her hand towards the bar and continued, "This place is much more than it first appears."

"How so?" I asked, curious.

"Well, you need to look closely," she said, before adding, "as the night gets later and the booze flows freely it gets a lot more obvious."

I looked around again, this time paying closer attention to my surroundings. I didn't see anything overly crazy, although two girls were making out wildly on the dance floor and there was a line of four women upstairs waiting outside what I now realized looked like small rooms.

"Those are for some of the elite guests," Laura explained, noticing what I was looking at.

"And the line?" I asked out of curiosity.

"That's Big Rosie's room," she answered, as if that explained everything.

"Big Rosie?" I questioned.

"If I can be frank," she began, "she is a large black woman with the sweetest tasting pussy in the city."

"People line up to lick her pussy?" I asked, completely flabbergasted by such a thought.

"Every night without fail," she nodded, "the longest line I ever saw was last New Year's Eve when fifteen were in line at one point."

In awe, I mindlessly said, "Christ, I can't even have multiple orgasms," before realizing what I had said and blushing beet red.

"You just haven't found the right person," she smiled warmly; I noticed she hadn't said 'man'..

"Maybe," I shrugged, suddenly feeling uncomfortable with the conversation.

"Do you see the chubby older woman with the green blouse at the table over there?" she asked.

"Yes," I nodded looking at a rather plain older looking woman, dressed like a diva.

"Do you see anything out of the ordinary?" she asked.

I looked at her. She looked like a grandma quite frankly, although I really didn't see anything out of the ordinary. I said, "No, not reeeeeally," just as I realized there were a pair of heels poking out from underneath the table.

"That is Penelope Benson," Laura explained, "she is always on the hunt for young girls to please her."

"But she is in her sixties," I said, unable to fathom why anyone would do that.

"You've heard of sugar daddies?" She asked.

"Of course," I nodded.

"She is a sugar momma," she revealed.

I couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, I see."

Changing the topic completely, she said, "So your accent, you're obviously from England."

"Born and raised," I nodded, as the waitress came with two more drinks, one for each of us. Although I knew I was going to get pretty drunk at this rate, I needed the liquid courage to stay comfortable in this strange foreign situation. 

"What brings you to Boston? Work or pleasure?" she asked.

The way she said 'pleasure' sent a chill up my spine as it was sexy as hell. Drinking half my fourth glass of wine, I retold my journey here to America. She asked a couple of questions through my story and then asked, "And what brings you here today?"

Looking at my phone, I saw my light flashing, which I must have missed during my storytelling. I grabbed my phone and said, "My so-called new friends."

Entering my password, I read my message. It was just two words:

April Fools

As I realized the meaning of those two words, I cursed, something I almost never did, "Well, bloody hell." I cursed, while I finished my wine.

"What?" She asked, genuinely concerned.

"They aren't coming," I said, completely disappointed, realizing I had been played and that my so-called friends were just bitches.

"Why?" She asked, moving closer.

"They set me up," I sighed, "and to make it worse," I continued, showing her the pathetic message, "April Fool's day ends at mid-day!"

She put her hand on my leg, which startled me. Her hand felt incredibly warm on my leg. I hadn't had sex in three months and that was a quickie that ended in a three minute shag where he got off and I didn't, so any touch, even that of a woman, had a pleasurable effect on me. Realizing I was getting in over my head, even though my body was beginning to betray me, I stammered, "I-I-I should probably go," as I began to move out the other side of the booth.

Just then, the waitress brought another round of drinks and another woman, also older, but blonde, I'm guessing a few years older than Laura, joined the table and asked, "So who is our new friend?" 

I cursed to myself, suddenly trapped, my head spinning.

The word 'our' was odd, but Laura introduced us. "Dione, this is my significant other Chantelle, Chantelle, this is my new friend Dione."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Chantelle greeted, leaning in and giving me a hug.

A chill went up my spine as I was currently being touched by two lesbians.

"You too," I replied, my panties frustratingly suddenly getting lightly damp. I knew then I desperately needed to get out of the club, right then and there, before it was too late.

Yet, I had women on both sides of me, and couldn't find any words to say to get me out of this bar, this situation.

Laura's hand moved up my leg slightly and under my skanky dress, as she retold my story to Chantelle, who was apparently her girlfriend. The whole time she spoke, her hand slithered ever so slowly up my leg, past my lace topped thigh highs and dangerously close to my increasingly wet pussy...which continued to betray my very straight mindset.

I tried to remain frozen and not let Laura know the impact she was having on me, plus I didn't want to let Chantelle know her girlfriend was touching me, having no idea how these types of things worked.

Chantelle asked, once Laura was done retelling my boring life story, "So you're a pussy virgin?"

I stammered, just as Laura's finger touched my pussy lips, "Aaah, I-I-I guess so."

"Is Laura's finger in your cunt, sweetheart?" Chantelle bluntly asked, moving closer to me.

"Noooooo," I moaned involuntarily, which was true, her finger was not in me, but driving me mad tapping my clit through the thin fabric.

"Do you want her finger inside you?" Chantelle whispered into my ear, her hot breath only enhancing my wetness and the complete overwhelming feeling of uncomfortable euphoria I was struggling to control.

"What?" I asked, even though I heard the question.

"Do you want Laura to finger that wet cunt of yours? It is wet, isn't it?" Chantelle asked, her lips so close to my ear, as Laura's finger slid underneath my thong.

"Yes," I whimpered, although I wasn't sure which question I was actually answering, so overwhelmed by the situation, and the finger so tantalizing close to entering me.

"Yes, you're wet or yes you want Laura's finger inside your cunt, sweetheart?" she asked, her lips tugging on my ear.

"Oh God," I moaned, the finger parting my pussy lips and the hot breath on my ear making me incapable of thinking straight (pun intended). 

"I'll take that as a yes to both," Chantelle chuckled tenderly.

Laura explained, as her finger reached my volcanic entrance, which was dying to erupt after months of being dormant, in a whisper, "Just so you know, Chantelle and I are in an exclusive relationship."

My face flushed, my body continuing to betray me, I asked, "Then why is your finger almost in my pussy?"

Suddenly a hand was on my other leg and Chantelle answered, leaning in, "Because after a great dinner, like we had an hour and a half ago, we always want to share a dessert."

"Oh fuuuuuuuck," I moaned, way louder than I meant to, as Laura's finger slid inside me and I realized without a doubt the intention of these two lesbians.

"You're coming home with us now," Chantelle ordered.

"What?" I asked, as Laura's finger laid buried deep within me, not moving.

"Tell us, sweetheart, do you want to come home with us?" Chantelle asked, strange since she just told me I was going home with them.

"I don't know," I answered, which was the truth. Part of me was completely at the whim of these two...my desire to get off driving me wild and making me reckless; on the other hand, I wasn't a lesbian and even though I had had a few drinks and was definitely intoxicated, I wasn't one to make reckless choices.

[hirarandi]

Suddenly, I felt something clamp on my wrist. I looked down and saw I was now handcuffed to Chantelle!

"What are you doing?" I asked, shocked.

"Helping you make a choice that your body has already made for you, but your mind hasn't caught up to yet," Chantelle answered.

Laura whispered, fingering me slowly, "Come home with us, baby, you know you want to."

"Oh God," I moaned again, her finger driving me mad, even as I looked at the handcuff on my arm.

"By the way, the keys for these are back at our place," Chantelle smiled. 

"Whaaaat?" I questioned, as Laura slid a second finger inside my pussy.

"Do you want to come with us?" Chantelle asked.

Somehow I felt compelled to do what Chantelle ordered, although I couldn't explain why. Of course, being handcuffed to her, I didn't see any way out other than to go to their place. So I answered, "Yes, ma'am."

Chantelle scoffed, "Ma'am, no, no, if you're going to call me a name call me Mistress."

Laura wiggled her fingers inside me slightly, making me moan, and I used the word that implied so much, "Sorry, Mistress."

"Let's go," Chantelle ordered, finishing her drink.

Laura withdrew her finger and winked, "To be continued, sexy."

I downed the rest of my wine, feeling dizzy with a mixture of alcohol and pleasure, and mindlessly followed Chantelle (as if I had a choice), out of the bar.

Once in a cab, again in the middle of the two beautiful older women, they both began kissing me. While Chantelle kissed me on the lips, a kiss so much gentler than any man's, Laura splattered my neck with kisses. The double passion made my pussy leak. Hands roamed on my legs, under my dress, but never touched my fevered pussy, only driving me madder with insatiable desire.

Once the taxi stopped, Chantelle ordered, "Come on, my pet."

The term 'my pet' should have offended me, yet in the current situation it was just the natural evolution of how the night had transpired.

"Yes, Mistress," I obeyed, being led out of the taxi.

Three minutes later, we were in an elevator and as soon as the door was closed, Laura dropped to her knees, moved under my dress and pulled my thong down and off. My pussy again leaked, some juice trickling out of me, as her hot breath hit my pussy.

Unfortunately, once I lifted my legs to allow her to get the thong off completely, she stood back up and handed them to Chantelle. 

Chantelle smiled, "Now, my pet, come and get mine."

"H-h-here?" I questioned.

"Now, my pet," she ordered, firmly.

Excited and petrified, I dropped to my knees and put my hand under her skirt. It was awkward to do with one hand, but I succeeded in getting them off. Thankfully, like me, she was wearing thigh highs making it easier to get them down her leg. Once at her ankles, she ordered, lifting up her skirt to reveal a completely shaved pussy, "Give your Mistress a kiss on her other lips, my pet."

It was like I was back at the Louvre looking at my favourite painting "Liberty Leading the People" by Eugene Delacroix, I just stared at its beauty. Her red pussy lips glistening slightly, as if beckoning me in. 

The elevator began to slow and she suggested, "You'd better hurry, my pet,"

I didn't hesitate, as I leaned forward and kissed her pussy lips. She grabbed my head and ordered, "Now lick, my pet."

Although I was terrified that the elevator would stop on another floor and I would be caught in the most compromising of positions, I obeyed, her exotic scent drawing me in and my sudden desire to taste her undeniable, getting just the lightest of samples with the quick kiss. I extended my tongue and licked.

After years of sucking often smelly cocks and swallowing never overly pleasing tasting cum, I had finally found my true sexual appetite...pussy. It was exotic, tangy and sweet and I began licking with reckless hunger, completely forgetting I was in an elevator.

"I think she's turned," Chantelle moaned, just as the elevator came to a stop. She let go of my head, but ordered, "Stay."

I felt a rush of humiliation course through me. First, I replayed the words 'I think she's 'turned', which was humiliating in itself, and yet being spoken to like a dog compounded the humiliation. Oddly, unexplainable to me, the derogatory treatment made my pussy gush, my own pussy juice leaking slightly down my leg.

The door opened and Chantelle ordered, as Laura bent down and took my free hand, "Crawl, my pet."

My face burning with embarrassment as my pussy burned with lust, I shamefully and awkwardly crawled behind Chantelle with Laura's help, realizing that the 22nd floor apparently was only one condo...their's.

As soon as the elevator door closed, Chantelle asked, "Do you want to finish what you started in the elevator, my pet?"

Deciding tonight was my 'What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas' moment, I answered, "Yes, Mistress."

Chantelle lifted her skirt back up and I leaned forward and resumed licking. 

"Such a good pet," Chantelle moaned.

I had never had my pussy properly pleasured with a tongue by a guy, (they always saw eating pussy as a brief means to an end...getting laid...and didn't get me remotely close to orgasm), I wanted to get her off. While I was on my knees, something I had been many times sucking cock, but always reluctantly (I assume like they were when licking me), I found that there was no reluctance, but instead an eagerness to please. 

Having never licked pussy before, the experience was strange, surreal and liberating. Yet, like everything I did, I wanted to excel at it. Although not a lesbian, I wanted to be the best pussy pleaser she had ever had. I explored like an archeologist on a dig, exploring every inch of her pussy lips, both inside and out.

"That's it, my pet, make love to my cunt," she moaned, before adding, "you will be down there often from now on. It will likely be a new food group for you."

Hearing those additional words startled me. Even though I was immensely enjoying what I was doing, I saw this as a one-time crazy evening, a sowing of my lesbian royal oats. Yet, instead of pointing this out, I mindlessly moaned, which implied I concurred with her ludicrous statement.

"Oh yes," she continued, "Laura and I have been searching for the perfect pet for a while now and I think we really hit the jackpot with you."

I was so focused on the now, on tasting her sweet nectar, in getting her off and hopefully getting off myself soon, that my usual rational, big picture self couldn't comprehend past the moment at hand.

She moaned, her hand going through my hair, and asked, "Are you ready to be our full time pet?"

I really didn't know what the duties of a full time pet would include, but when she pulled my head from her delicious pussy I looked up at her in lustful confusion. 

She looked down at me with a stern look and said firmly, "I don't like repeating myself, my pet."

Her disappointment at me written all over her face, I answered, desperate to bury my face back into her oasis of heaven, "Yes."

"Yes, what?" She asked, with a dramatic sigh.

"Yes, Mistress," I replied, correcting my error.

"Yes, Mistress, what?" She asked, clearly getting exasperated by me.

I don't know if it was the alcohol, the exotic scent, the tantalizing taste, the compromising position or the humiliation that somehow turned me on, but I couldn't think straight (pun again intended). Consequences be damned, I answered, "Yes, Mistress, I'm ready to be your live-in pet."

She smiled slightly, but continued, "And you will obey without hesitation any order Mistress Laura or I command?"

The expectations kept pulling me deeper into a submission that I couldn't completely understand and yet my sexual submission kept me mindlessly agreeing. "Yes, Mistress Chantelle," I replied, desperate to taste her pussy again, before turning to Laura and adding, "and Mistresses."

I froze in mid-declaration, as I stared at Laura who was apparently filming my submission. 

"And Mistress, what?" Chantelle questioned firmly.

I was paralyzed by indecision. I desperately wanted to resume licking Chantelle's pussy, yet, the thought that I was being filmed and this could be used against me terrified me. 

"Now, my pet," Chantelle demanded, her voice rising. "Finish your declaration and you can resume licking my cunt like you were born to do."

Her words were ridiculous. I wasn't born to lick pussy, I was born to do great things; yet, at this moment my many career ambitions, my 102 things I hadn't completed on my bucket list (and licking pussy sure wasn't one of them...in fact none of the 102 were of a sexual nature) and my fantasy of a marriage with three kids (two girls and a boy...I won't bore you with the fact I had already picked their names), didn't matter, all that mattered was obeying these two women, submitting unconditionally to them; my moral compass shut off, I looked directly into the camera and declared, "Mistress Laura and Mistress Chantelle, I am your submissive pet, ready and eager to obey."

"Mmmmm," Chantelle purred, patting me on the head like a puppy, "that was very good my pet. You may receive your reward."

Before this evening, such a reward would have made me laugh, yet I instantly turned back around and buried my face in her oasis of perfection, like a woman lost in the desert when she finally sees water. 

"That's it, my pet, get Mommy off," she moaned.

Calling herself Mommy was odd, but I was too deep into the submission to worry about the semantics of word choice or kink. Instead, I lapped hungrily, this time determined to get her off and taste the full flavour of her pussy.

"Getting close, my pet slut," she moaned, which again should have been like a cold splash of water in my face a shot of reality, but at the moment I was a slut, her slut, and nothing else mattered but making her come.

"Suck on my clit, you British rug muncher," she demanded, her breathing getting heavy.

Oddly, each new derogatory name only enhanced my desire to please, as I flicked on her clit with my tongue.

"Oh fuck, yes you slut, take Mommy's cummmmmmm," she screamed, as she grabbed my head and held it hard against her flooding pussy.

My face was coated with cum as it gushed onto me. I continued licking, wanting to savour the sweetness that flowed so naturally like a waterfall. The full flood of pussy cum was a million times stronger in taste and I knew without a doubt I was no longer completely straight as I would gladly do anything to have this taste again.

Even when she let go of my head, I kept licking wanting to retrieve every last speck of her exotic pussy perfection.

She laughed, pushing my head away, "I think we have unlocked the eager lesbian side she pretended she didn't have."

Laura laughed, "So it seems."

"If you keep licking, I'm going to pee on you," Chantelle warned, as I moved my head forward to get a couple last laps. "And that isn't a day one activity."

I remained on my knees, my face feeling completely soaked, awaiting further instructions. I couldn't believe how bringing her pleasure, brought me pleasure, my own pussy leaking down my leg without being touched.

"You are so cute," Chantelle smiled down at me, again patting my head. "Keys."

Laura grabbed them from her purse, meaning they had the keys all along, and walked over to us and un-cuffed us.

"Laura, why don't you take our new pet for a test run while I go to the washroom?"

"Will do," Laura nodded.

"Take her to the bedroom," Chantelle ordered, before she walked to a room I assumed was the washroom.

"Crawl, my pet," Laura ordered.

"Yes, Mistress," I obeyed, instantly wondering if her pussy would taste the same as Chantelle's.

Once we were in the very large bedroom, with a king-sized bed, Laura took off her skirt, revealing she was wearing a garter and stockings and wasn't wearing any panties at all. Like Chantelle, she was shaved completely, making me wish I didn't have a somewhat hairy bush. (I usually trimmed, but since moving to America, I had neglected my pussy hygiene a bit).

She took off her blouse as well and then her bra, revealing some surprisingly firm, big breasts. Now only in heels and stockings, she walked to the edge of the bed and ordered, "Come take off my heels, my pet."

Her tone was so much softer than Chandelle, which made me compelled to obey not out of fear, but eager submissive lust. I crawled to the bed and took off her first heel.

"Lick the sole of my foot, my sweet pet," she ordered.

The task was menial and degrading in theory, yet doing it for her seemed natural. I lifted her foot to my mouth and licked from her heel all the way to her toes.

The taste was not pleasant or unpleasant, yet the submissiveness of the task somehow turned me on, my desire to give pleasure again bringing me pleasure.

I repeated the task on her other foot, before she moved onto the bed and ordered, "Come join me."

I crawled onto the bed and stared at her beautiful body as she lay there. I wondered how I could have never considered another woman before today. A woman's body was so naturally beautiful, especially when compared to a man's.

She opened her legs and offered, "You looked so hot eating Chantelle, I want to watch you eat me now."

"I'd love to," I nodded, crawling between her legs, eager to taste her.

"I knew you would be between my legs tonight the minute I saw you walk in the club," she smiled, just as I reached her pussy.

This surprised me. I had to ask. "What do you mean?"

"You just looked so vulnerable and I could sense you needed direction," Laura answered.

Chantelle startled us both as she chirped in, "And we will give you direction, all right."

"Yes, Mistress," I nodded, the brief intimate moment broken, a moment where I felt connected in a way I never had with a man.

Laura reached up and pulled me into her pussy and I began licking. The taste was similar, yet different; yet, like Chantelle's, I was immediately enthralled. I took my time, mesmerized by her sweet pussy.

Laura moaned, as my tongue parted her pussy lips, "That's it, tongue fuck my cunt."

I wasn't sure how to do what she requested, but finding her fuck hole, I tried to tongue fuck her. It was challenging, but her moans implied it was working.

Suddenly, I felt my dress flipped up and hands on my hips. Chantelle asked, as I felt something hard poking my pussy, "Ready to be fucked, you slut?"

"God, yes," I answered without thinking, my pussy neglected most of the night even while it begged for attention.

"Beg, bitch," she demanded.

I had never begged for sex before, but I babbled, wanting to please her and have her fuck me, "Please, fuck your British slut, make me your bitch."

"Is our pet in heat?" Chantelle asked, amused.

"I'm a bitch in heat, Mistress," I replied, degrading myself, which only enhanced my desire to obey...absurd, but true.

"You want to be our twenty-four hour, seven days a week full service pussy pleasing slave?" She questioned, as she slid the plastic cock in my pussy.

"Yessssssssss," I screamed, not agreeing to her crazy demand that seemed completely unrealistic, but instead to the complete euphoria of having my pussy finally filled.

"We both make lots of money, my pet," she continued, as she kept the cock lodged deep inside me. "What we are looking for is someone to give their mind, body and soul one hundred percent to us."

I looked up at Laura, the true meaning of all Chantelle's earlier innuendo now crystal clear, with my mouth dropped open like a character in a Who Framed Roger Rabbit cartoon.

"I know you are confused at the moment," Chantelle continued, rubbing my back gently, which somehow soothed me. "But understand we have searched for you for three years."

"Almost four," Laura added.

"Fine, four," Chantelle continued, clearly annoyed at being corrected. "And we both know you are the one."

"Without a doubt" Laura added.

"But, I'm not even a lesbian," I pointed out, suddenly feeling very sober.

"That is up for discussion," Chantelle continued, "at the very least, you are bi. But based on the way you munched on my snatch, I am pretty sure you are a hundred percent cunt muncher.

My head was spinning. I loved eating her pussy, I was loving eating Laura's pussy and I undoubtedly had never been hornier (and I couldn't blame the alcohol I had had sex drunker than that a couple of times), yet what they wanted was too much. "Even so, I can't quit my job."

"You will have a new, far more rewarding job," Chantelle continued, ignoring my protests. "We will feed you, clothe you and lodge you. You will be, as I said earlier, literally, our live-in pet."

I was about to say I couldn't agree to such extreme demands, when she suddenly began fucking me hard. "I cannnnnnnn, fuuuuck," I screamed, as she began fucking me.

"Good pets don't argue, they obey," Chantelle explained, "now get back to munching cunt."

Deciding the pleasure was too great and Laura's pussy too delicious, I would reject the bizarre offer later. Instead, I just gave in to the pleasure that was coursing through my very being.

I struggled to lick Laura's pussy, as the hard deep thrusts by Chantelle had me both moaning loudly and bouncing forward into Laura's pussy.

My long denied orgasm was building quickly, and I begged, "Oh yes, shag the shit out of me."

"You want it in your ass?" Chantelle questioned.

"No, no, no," I said in a panic, "My pussy, shag the hell out of my pussy."

"Sluts have cunts," Chantelle corrected.

I had never uttered the 'C' word ever; I also had never eaten pussy or ended up in a threesome before either, so it was a day of firsts. I begged, "Slam that cock in my cunt, Mistress."

"And who owns your cunt, fuck slave?" Chantelle questioned, after three hard deep thrusts had me near the brink of eruption.

I was completely at the whim of this woman and would agree to anything she said if it got me off and I moaned, "You doooooooo."

"You do what, you bimbo slut?" she questioned, slapping my ass.

"You do, Mistress," I corrected, actually wiggling my ass on the cock.

"And your asshole, who owns your asshole, my three hole fuck toy?" She continued, her humiliation of me relentless, her need to break me completely obvious.

I didn't want my arse touched, I had resisted many guys who wanted to fuck it, but at the moment it was just another means to an end of utter obedience. I nodded, "My virgin arse is yours, Mistress."

"Good girl," she purred, rubbing the part of my ass she had recently slapped, before pulling out of my fevered pussy.

"Noooooooo," I whined, my orgasm seemingly rejected again.

Chantelle ordered, "Laura, on all fours."

Laura immediately obeyed, as I understood there was indeed a hierarchy within their relationship. 

I was now staring at her ass, with her nylon-clad legs on both sides of me.

"Pull her ass cheeks apart and lick her rosebud," Chantelle ordered.

Another demeaning task, another I-would-never-in-a-million-years-do task, yet as had become the norm of the evening, I again obeyed.

I moved up onto my knees, pulled her ass cheeks apart and stared at the tiny rosebud.

Laura purred, "Go ahead, my pet, lick my asshole."

The words sounded so strange, yet I again obeyed, leaning forward, extending my tongue and licking. It was slightly sweaty, but didn't have the appalling taste I expected. I licked it for only a few seconds before Chantelle put a harness on my head. She explained, "Laura loves getting her, what did you call it, arse fucked. So while I take your anal cherry, you will fuck hers."

I sat still until the harness was moved lower onto my mouth and I realized I now had a plastic cock poking straight out of my face. The surreal evening just continued to get more surreal, like I was living the longest, strangest dream of my life.

[hirarandi]

"Move up until your cock is at her rosebud, ass fuck whore," Chantelle ordered, after she put what was likely lube on my cock.

I obeyed, kind of intrigued by the strange contraption. 

Laura moaned as my cock head touched her ass. "Oh yes, fill my ass with your cock."

Wanting to oblige, I began moving my face forward and watching in awe as I slowly moved closer to her ass and my cock disappeared between her white cheeks.

"Oh yessss, fill my asshole completely," Laura moaned loudly until my face was pressed against her ass.

Chantelle said, "They say a picture is worth a thousand words. If that is true, what is a video worth?"

My body tensed at the idea of being filmed again, yet I really no longer had a say; I just had to hope that once this crazy evening of sexual debauchery was done I could rationalize with these two women. 

I fucked her asshole with my face for a minute to two, finally getting into a rhythm of sorts and beginning to really enjoy what I was doing, when I again felt hands on my hips. I kept fucking Laura's ass, even as warm liquid was poured between my ass cheeks.

"Now my arse slut, this is going to burn at first, but I'm using a small cock to get you prepared for much bigger ones," she explained, as if she was doing me a favour. "But I suggest you just keep fucking Laura's ass and concentrate on being the pleasure pet you now are."

Although it was impossible not to feel the cockhead poking at my anal entrance, I did try to focus on fucking Laura, which I was enjoying immensely. Hearing her moan because of me turned me on and if she liked it in the ass, which clearly she did, how bad could it be?

Just as I was asking that rhetorical question, I felt the first burn as the fake cock broke past my tight rosebud. I whimpered into the toy on my face while trying to keep the same pace of fucking.

"Just relax, arse slut," she suggested, rubbing my back gently while slowly sodomizing me...a strange contradiction of sensations.

It was impossible to relax, but Laura helped as she began bouncing her ass back on my face, making me focus on something other than the burn in my arse.

The burn continued, but I was surprised to hear, "All in, apparently your ass was made to be filled."

Like previous comments, her suggestion was utterly ludicrous, yet my arse was definitely filled nonetheless. 

"Now my pet, you are going to be a live rocking fuck horse," Chantelle continued. "You will move forward and fill Laura's ass and then bounce back and fuck yourself."

Although awkward and painful at first, I obeyed, moving back and forth between fucking Laura's arse and then fucking my own arse. After a couple of minutes, I began to get into a constant rhythm and miraculously the pain dissipated and was slowly replaced by an odd pleasure. 

"That's it you ass fuck toy," Chantelle said, "you have indeed found your calling."

I ignored her words, instead focusing completely on staying in rhythm, beginning to really enjoy both fucking and being fucked at the same time. 

Suddenly Laura screamed, "Fuuuuuuuuck," and collapsed forward, apparently coming from getting arse fucked.

Although the pain was all but gone and a pleasure had emerged, it was a teasing pleasure, creating sensations, but not enough to get me off...my pussy was still on fire and pleading to be allowed to come.

I continued fucking my ass, enjoying it and yet getting more and more frustrated by my inability to have an orgasm. 

Laura suddenly crawled under me and began licking my cunt and instantly the pleasure exponentially intensified.

Chantelle reached over and pulled the harness off my head and asked, "Enjoying yourself, my pet?"

"Yessssss, Mistressssss," I whimpered, the orgasm that had been bubbling just below the surface suddenly boiling again.

"So you want to come?" She asked, as I continued bouncing back on the cock in my arse harder now, wanting to feel it buried deep in me, as Laura hungrily lapped my cunt.

"Sooooo bad," I moaned, knowing I was close.

"Laura stop," Chantelle ordered, while grabbing my hips and holding me in place with the strap-on buried deep in my ass.

"Nooooooo, please Mistress, I need to come so badddddd," I whined, knowing I sounded desperate and pathetic.

"I promise you the most intense orgasm of your life, Dione," she said, she hadn't used my real name the whole time we were there, and it was a sudden reminder of who I really was.

I was a strong, young, independent woman; I was a rising star in the corporate banking world; no way was I a sexual plaything for two rich older women.

I was about to say as much when simultaneously, wordlessly, both Chantelle with her cock and Laura with her tongue resumed pleasuring me.

Instantly my hard resolve disappeared and my bimbo slut mindset returned. "Oh God, yesssss," I screamed, "double fuck your slut!"

"Mmmmmm," Chantelle purred, "that is a great idea. Laura go put big Jerome on."

Laura slithered out from underneath me, my orgasm apparently again on standby, as she went to the closet.

Chantelle said, "I lost my train of thought. I was promising you the best orgasm of your life, wasn't I?" 

"Yesssss," I nodded, the promise tempting me to the bent, to vaguely quote Hamlet. Was I going crazy? I was definitely out of my comfort zone...out of character. And yet, there was no denying the cold hard truth that tonight was the most amazing night of my life.

"All you have to do is one thing," she said, giving me three hard quick strokes.

"Any...thinggggg," I replied, the words extreme, but true at the moment.

"Excellent word choice," she approved, as I watched Laura put on a massive black cock that was definitely way longer and thicker than anything I had ever experienced before. "So you accept the invitation to be our live-in pet?"

"Is there an option two?" I questioned.

"Leave now and forget your coming of age, your sexual awakening, your meaning for life, as if it never happened," Chantelle offered.

So I was at Robert Frost's critical moment where two roads diverged. The safe road had me continuing my career and likely being lonely or meeting a man who was adequate but fit the social norms of high end society: or, the risky road, black as night with the unknown and yet with rewards seemingly unlike anything I had, or ever would otherwise, experience.

She continued, "All the stress of your job, gone; all the pressure of your career and financial stability, gone; all the frustration of meeting false friends and trying to fit in, gone; your mind, body and soul would become ours, and in return we would give you everything you ever wanted, everything you ever fantasized and a million other things your mind hasn't even begun to fathom."

In my intoxicated, aroused state, her offer sounded amazing and as I watched Laura move to the bed and lie down in front of me, I knew at this moment that giving myself to these two women was all I wanted to do.

"Go ahead, Dione, our pet, our slut, our slave, straddle Laura's cock, fill that fuck box of yours and officially declare your life as Dione over and allow your new life as DeeDee, twenty-four hour, seven days a week, submissive sex pet, to begin.

My head was spinning with indecision, my cunt was dripping with desperate desire and my arse was screaming to be pounded again...absurd but true.

The decision should have been easy, get up and leave, but my mind wasn't in control of me anymore, at least not the academic mind that had made almost every decision in my life up to this moment; no, my body was making this decision, as well as a part of my mind I didn't know existed, as I didn't speak, but instead straddled Laura's huge ten inch cock and impaled myself.

"Fuuuuuuuuuck," I screamed, definitely waking up the people the floor below us as my pussy, no my cunt, was widened and filled unlike anything I'd ever felt before.

I began bouncing on the cock, taking even more in my hole, my orgasm again building.

"Say it, DeeDee," 'Chantelle demanded, as she held me in place, the massive cock buried deep inside me, pushing my body forward.

"I'm your live-in, pet," I declared without hesitation.

"And your new job is serving us," she clarified, as her plastic cock, which now seemed wider slid into my arse, creating a new pleasurable burn.

"Yes, I'm your slave," I weakly agreed, as the cock in my ass filled me.

"This is the medium ass cock," Chantelle informed me, even though I couldn't fathom anything bigger ever fitting in me...I felt so fucking full.

"Please fuck your pet in her cunt and arse," I begged, wanting to come, needing to come, pleasure all that mattered.

"What is your name?" She asked.

"Deedee, bimbo, slut, pet, slave, cunt licking tart, whore, submissive bitch," I listed, wanting to please her, wanting to be all those things to her.

"Now," Chantelle declared, and as she began fucking my arse hard, Laura simultaneously bucked up creating sensations I didn't know existed. 

Instantly my orgasm built as I said more swears in thirty seconds than I had all my life. "Oh God, oh God, oh God, fuck my cunt, my arse, fucking shiiiit, fuck, make me your slut, fuck, fuck, oh God, fuck, sooo good, close, close, harder, fucking bloody hell, fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!"

In just a few hard strokes, thirty seconds maximum, my orgasm erupted through me with a euphoria and intensity hundreds of times greater than any boyfriend had ever given me.

I collapse forward on top of Laura who declared, "She's never had multiple orgasms."

"Well, let's rectify that," Chantelle declared as she kept pounding my arse throughout my orgasm, making it seem like it would never end, pulsation after pulsation coursing through my very being.

"Tooooo good," I whimpered, as the pleasure was so intense I thought I may pass out.

Suddenly, Chantelle pulled out, flipped me onto my back and I watched as Laura quickly moved between my still trembling legs and buried her face in my cunt.

Chantelle explained, "Although Laura is great at many, many things, no one eats cunt like she does."

I moaned as she licked me, but warned, "I can't come twice."

"I guarantee you can," Chantelle said, as she took off the strap-on cock. 

"I've tried so many times," I moaned, "and I get so close, but never get off."

"Laura has a magical tongue," Chantelle said, before putting the cock that was just in my ass in my mouth.

It was just another humiliating task, in a humiliating, yet life changing, evening.

As she slowly fucked my face with the plastic cock, Laura slowly lapped my cunt. It felt amazing, yet I knew it was all for nothing.

After a couple of minutes, Chantelle pulled the cock out, tossed it on the floor and straddled my face.

As expected, I began licking, already getting frustrated with how good Laura's tongue felt, knowing the orgasm that was building on top of my first one was just a tease.

I hungrily lapped Chantelle's pussy, her taste still as exotic and tantalizing as the first time, when I suddenly felt two fingers slide inside me, enhancing the pleasure.

"Ready for the impossible to be made possible?" Chantelle asked.

"God, yesssss," I moaned, between licks, but I didn't believe it was possible, even though my orgasm seemed to be on the brink of eruption.

"Do it, honey," Chantelle moaned.

Suddenly I felt her tapping her fingers on what must have been my never before discovered g-spot, while she simultaneously flicked her tongue on my clit. Instantly, the invisible damn of denial broke and my second orgasm cascaded through me.

"Yesssssssssss," I screamed, as my second orgasm hit me as hard as my first.

Chantelle lowered her cunt and began grinding on my face and I eagerly licked while my body twitched non-stop with utter euphoria...I had reached sexual utopia.

Laura kept tapping my g-spot, kept flicking my clit and even as my second orgasm kept pulsing through me I felt another tremoring below the surface.

'I couldn't have three' I thought to myself as I struggled to pleasure the pussy almost suffocating me.

Soon my face was coated with Chantelle's pussy juice as she came all over my face for a second time this crazy evening. In this position it was like getting a bucket of water poured on my face, although this was way more satisfying to the taste buds.

As Laura kept pleasuring me, Chantelle got off me, pulled open the night stand, pulled out a long wand of some sort, turned it on and moved it between my legs.

"Oh Godddddddddddd," I again screamed, as the intense vibrations stimulated my clit extremely and another orgasm began to rise quickly.

"It's a magic wand. Mixed with Laura's magic fingers, we can have you coming again and again and again," Chantelle explained.

"Yes, fuck, Mistress, sooooo intense," I moaned.

"Come again, my pet," she ordered, pushing the vibrating wand harder onto my clit.

"As you commaaaaaaaaand," I screamed, as my third orgasm hit me.

Incredibly, over the next few minutes the orgasms came again and again until I lost count, got light headed and passed out.

.....

Ever wake up after an incredibly vivid and realistic dream? I woke up feeling incredibly refreshed after what felt like the best sleep ever. 

I opened my eyes and turned to look at my clock when I realized this wasn't my room; that meant it wasn't a dream. 

I sat up and looked around as reality hit me like the coldest shower ever.

Last night happened.

Fuck!

As I look around, I realized that I was on the floor.

Fuck!

I also realized that I was still naked, except for the thigh highs.

Fuck!

I also realized I had something on my neck. As I reached up and felt it, I realized I had a collar on.

Fuck!

Shame burned through me as every aspect of last evening came flooding back...all the naughty, out of character things, I'd done...all the promises I made.

Fuck!

Fuck!

Fuck!

I didn't know what to do. I stood up and looked around for my clothes, but didn't see them anywhere.

Fuck!

Suddenly, I heard Chantelle's voice. "Pets don't walk on two legs."

I turned around and looked at her. She was dressed in a very professional business suit, her hair back in a ponytail and wearing glasses. I just began to speak when I was cut off by her. "I think...."

"I do your thinking now," she firmly said. "Now get on all fours."

I stood paralyzed with indecision as I watched her go to the dresser, grab something black and walk to me.

"I see you're going to need some work," she sighed, as she clamped a leash to my collar and tugged down hard.

I fell to my knees, my head spinning.

"On all fours, slave," she ordered.

"What time is it?" I asked, "I need to get to work." Although that wasn't true, as I was beginning a four day weekend.

"Now you're lying to your Mistress?" She questioned. "I'm very disappointed. Last night you were very, very compliant."

"I was drunk," I pointed out.

"Drunk with lust," she corrected.

"That was a onetime thing," I declared, although still not standing up.

"Deedee, we can do this two ways," she sighed dramatically. 

A vague memory of being renamed popped into my head. "Please, Chantelle," I pleaded.

Chantelle lifted up her skirt, revealing she was sans panties and wearing thigh highs. She challenged, as she moved her cunt into my face and held the back of my head, "If you can last two minutes and not lick my cunt at all, I'll let you go. But if you do, and we both know you will, we will have no more of this silly behaviour."

Her pussy lips were touching my lips. Her scent was strong, and intoxicating, instantly making my head light. I knew I had to resist, my life and career depended on it. I closed my eyes and tried to think of something else, but visions of last night popped into my head: eating pussy, getting sodomized, getting double penetrated and multiple orgasms played like a very bad porn movie.

I felt my pussy getting wet against my will and I wondered if it was almost two minutes yet.

As if on cue, she announced, "Thirty seconds done."

Only thirty seconds?

Fuck!

My mouth was watering and as she began to grind her pussy on my face, her wetness landing on my lips, the temptation growing with each second.

She continued speaking, "Just lick, my pet and become what you were born to be."

Her words were preposterous and yet a longing to just let go was undeniably growing inside me.

'Stop! Stop thinking like that', I scolded myself.

"One lick and you can have this delicacy every day; you can have multiple orgasms every day; you can be the pussy pleasing pet you and I both know you are," she continued.

God, I wanted to taste her so bad; but just one lick, one taste, and I was no longer in control of my fate.

"A minute," she announced, "I'm very impressed. Maybe you don't want to taste my cunt again."

Half way there. Half way to having my life back. Half way from resisting the greatest temptation of my life.

"Laura will be very disappointed," Chantelle continued. "She chose you. Out of all the pretty girls the past three years, she chose you."

Oddly, hearing her mention Laura, the good Mistress in the good Mistress, bad Mistress system they seemed to have, pushed the temptation.

"Lick, my pet, my slave, my cunt licker," she began listing, each derogatory name somehow sending sparks of pleasure to my suddenly burning pussy.

"Rug muncher, pussy pleasure, arse fucker," she continued, while grinding her cunt up and down my face.

Fuck! I wasn't going to make it. I wanted to taste her; I needed to taste her; I had to submit.

"Even if you don't submit, I'm going to get one more orgasm from you, my pettttt," she moaned.

She was close to coming, so close to coating my face with her sweet cunt cum that without even thinking about it, I extended my tongue and licked.

As soon as her exotic taste reached my taste buds I knew my body had made the right decision even as I scolded myself for my weakness.

"Goooood pet," she moaned, as I lapped away like a dog.

I couldn't imagine not doing this again, even though I knew it was morally wrong. I should have been able to last two minutes, a hundred and twenty seconds, yet now time stood still as I eagerly lapped pussy perfection.

"Here it comes, my loyal pet," she moaned, a couple of minutes later.

My face was again coated with pussy cum, and I again lapped it up like it was the best wine. 

"Oh yesssss, lick up all your Mistress's cunt cum, you dirty fucking disobedient cunt munching whore," she humiliated.

My hand went to my burning cunt and I began rubbing myself before I was roughly tugged to the floor.

"Pets only get to come when given permission," she scolded, before she dropped her skirt back down and tugged the chain. "Crawl, Deedee."

"Yes, Mistress Chantelle," I replied, not mortified by my situation, but feeling guilt for getting on her bad side.

She walked to her drawer pulled something out and walked to me. "To complete the pet look," she began, as she bent down and shoved, what I would learn, was a dildo tail in my ass.

"Shiiiiiiit," I screamed, a burn coursing through my ass as it was roughly filled.

"Follow me, my pet," she ordered.

I followed her out of the bedroom, to the kitchen where a plate with bacon and eggs lay on the floor. Adjacent to the wall was a plastic cock.

She led me to the plate and said, "Eat."

"Thank you, Mistress," I absurdly replied.

Thankfully, there was a fork and knife. I ate for a few minutes before Laura walked in and greeted, "Good afternoon, sleepy head."

"It's afternoon?" I questioned. 'How long was I out for?' I thought to myself.

"Yes, Chantelle has already been to work and is having all your things brought over here."

"She was?" I asked, in complete awe of everything.

Chantelle laughed, "For such a smart girl, you can be rather dense sometimes."

[hirarandi]

"I'm sorry, Mistress," I absurdly apologized for being insulted.

Laura asked, "Who is the CEO of your bank?"

My eyes went big as revelation hit like a ton of bricks. I had never met her, she had supposedly been overseas since I began work, but I did know her name...Chantelle Burton.

Chantelle laughed, "You were definitely a good hire."

I was speechless.

"I am already having all your things from the apartment the bank is paying for brought here," Chantelle informed me.

"You really want me to live here?" I asked, although the question was obviously rhetorical.

"Of course," she nodded, "although after doing some more research about you today, I definitely plan to let you keep working."

"Really?" I asked, excited that at least part of the old me would still exist.

"From home," she finished, extinguishing the hope as quickly as she had built it up.

"I'll set you up with an office and everything," she continued.

"Thank you, Mistress," I again absurdly said.

"You're welcome," she smiled down at me. "I look after my pets like I do a child. I reward good behaviour and I punish bad behaviour."

I just sat there unsure what to say.

"Now for your punishment for your bad behaviour this morning, you will fuck yourself with that suction wall cock for one hour," she ordered.

I nodded, "Yes, Mistress," as I awkwardly got on all fours and backed up onto the six inch cock thinking this wasn't really much of a punishment, my cunt burning for attention anyway.

I began fucking myself while Laura and Chantelle talked about a gathering they were hosting here on Saturday. 

I fucked myself slowly, so I could hear the conversation, and learned that apparently they were having a sex toy party with a few good friends.

Suddenly, the elevator opened and I froze.

"What was so urgent I had to come over here now?" said a woman's voice I instantly recognized before I even saw her.

I imagine I went as pale as a ghost as Chantelle ordered, "Keep fucking yourself, my disobedient pet."

"Yes, Mistress," I nodded, resuming fucking myself...mortified again.

"Come into the kitchen, honey," Chantelle called.

My mouth dropped open as Becky walked into the kitchen, saw me on the floor and laughed, "No fucking way."

"We finally found our pet," Chantelle explained, bending down and patting my head. "and we have you and Amber to thank, apparently."

Becky laughed, "We were just trying to embarrass the prude...open her up, which apparently you did."

"She is moving in, aren't you, pet Deedee?" Chantelle asked.

"Yes, Mistress," I admitted, not looking up.

Becky roared, as she walked over to me and ordered, "Come and get a snack, bitch."

I moved up, the cock slipping out of me, moved under her skirt, pulled down her panties and began licking...my cheeks burning with shame even as my taste buds bubbled with flavour.

As I licked, Becky said, "The girls are going to love this."

I gasped into Becky's pussy as I realized the humiliation that likely lie ahead. Life as I knew it was over and yet, as I continued licking the bitch's delicious cunt, I realized I wouldn't have it any other way.

Chantelle said, making clear all that did lie ahead for me, "This weekend she is ours, but next weekend Laura and I are going to Switzerland. You can bring the girls here and pet sit."

Fuck!

The End