BDSM Library - My Passage to Womanhood

This autobiographical novel is about the rites of passage of a man, from being a man through to becoming an early-middle-aged woman. It is primarily the story of his, or should I say her, sexual experiences and development as she, Clare, came into and under the influence of, primarily, dominant women. It explores many facets of the femme domme world and has a secondary theme of a man made submissive who not only craves a dominant woman but also seeks to satisfy a growing need to be a woman himself as he undergoes the long march towards realising his desires.

The novel slowly unfolds throughout with intricate detail of the surroundings in which Clare found herself. Her superb memory recall describes many of the finer points of the quality life she has led but, also, the reader will experiences many moments of high sexual passion, frenzy, lust and romance that will convey themselves freshly to the most ardent lovers of our genre.

In this sense, this novel is not your average femme domme writing. It has been written in a sensitive, beautiful, descriptive style and you, the reader, will soon warm to Clare her friends and acquaintances, as well as the various stages and escapades of her life. And, apart from some wonderful times of sexual tension and joy, there are moments of sadness that emerge.

The beginning covers Clare’s early history, up to the time she reaches her late eighteens. This may sound very young but the author thought it important to include this, as it lays down the lasting foundation of her development in life, both as a submissive to dominant women, and in the sometimes-forced passage to becoming a woman herself. The story involves Clare, her first friend, John, and then her first girlfriend, Hannah. Clare has commented that, indeed, Hannah has much to answer for in becoming what she has, and for the range of experiences that she was subjugated to by her, all those years back then.

It is intended for the writing to reflect the level of experience, understanding and maturity of the main character at a given point in his journey so, as with life itself, the longer it endures the greater becomes both insight and sophistication and this, I hope, is revealed in the writing itself.

Enjoy.

Clare

Introduction

For those of you in the know, or who have done the research an interest in transgender and female domination issues demand, you will know that most of us start the long tortured route towards womanhood and submission to the fairer sex with a healthy, or unhealthy if you see it that way, interest in our mothers’ or sisters’ clothing. This can start at a very young age in dressing in in a relatives or an Au Pair’s lingerie, or by swapping clothes with our sisters or their friends. Alternatively, we can become “more subversive” at a slightly older age as we begin to link items, especially female underwear, to our sexual development and, in doing so, frequently a fascinating fetish is born. In practice, I prefer to call fetishes ‘”interests” with there being so many interesting aspects to them in our lives at large. And, frequently, there is present a dominant, power play involved from an older woman, be it a mother, sister, aunt or teacher.

I did not begin my transition to becoming a truly submissive transvestite in either way though. I have two folk to thank for that in setting me on the long road, and they are my first real boyfriend and girlfriend, real in the sense of taking my virginity. My book will explore these relationships, providing you, the reader, with the base for understanding the future domination of me by women who already knew their dominant personalities. The book, of course, also features those women who have discovered domination during their own journey in life and relationships as they began to comprehend their own sexuality and sexual requirements. For those of you who may not enjoy male to male, may I suggest that you persist with the early story as, firstly, it shows a distinct phase of my transition and, secondly, because I am bi-sexual, like many of us submissives.

The major section of this story moves on to my first true girlfriend who introduced me to cross-dressing, living as a woman and gradually establishing her dominance over me, especially in psychological dominance to worship her. Subsequent “Parts” will see me experience a deeper and deeper passage, resistance, and acceptance through modified and forced behaviour, into this hallowed and special world of Feminine Domination.

I am sitting here, completely dressed as a woman, at my computer at the insistence of my current domme girlfriend. We both write as a profession, being technical authors working mainly on science and engineering issues for various clients in a number of different industries. The type of writing embraces business communication articles such as in-house magazine articles, brochures, web literature and training manuals, along with the occasional “placed” newspaper item. Both of us write some lighter material too, mainly for ourselves but occasionally for publication and sharing with a wider readership.

However, Elaine has challenged me and insisted that I capture and record my life’s sexual and transvestite experiences and history.

The purpose of this, she says, is so as to let those who are interested in Feminine Domination to read and know about another life story of a man who has wanted to be a woman and under the influence and control of a strong woman, and whether I wanted the domination or not. The difference and interest for the reader comes from our interesting backgrounds.

Indeed, I start the writing of this long tome under duress as Elaine has told me that if I do not “put pen to paper” then she will do so on my behalf. And if she has to do that, she will make it fully auto-biographical and name names so as to expose me totally to the world, so that family and past friends know about what may be considered by many as my lurid background.

I am sitting here, nicely dressed in a white Aubade “Fleurs de Pommier” lacy bra and matching “Italien” panties, my bra holding my now “B” cup breasts as Elaine has had me with a transition specialist for some time now and I have been undergoing a controlled hormone regime as a possible precursor to an orchiectomy and full vaginal constructive surgery. I have already undergone some cosmetic surgery to soften my cheekbones and chin as well as feminise my nose.

Over my lingerie, I am wearing a soft high quality white long sleeve shirt-cum-skirt with a bandeau effect around my waist and that sweeps up to my breast line. Over this, I have a grey calf-length cardigan as well as charcoal-coloured leggings and matching, plain pumps. I have one carat emerald-cut diamond studs in my ears and a pearl neck choker around my neck with my name on a platinum tag coming off the front of the choker. Off this, there is a second identical tag, engraved with “Elaine’s Girl.” In addition, I have my ankle and waist bracelet on, similarly tagged, as well as a Chanel pearl watch on my left wrist. My other wrist is sporting three silver bangles, off which there are two have provocative suggesting, silver, bondage loops.

As you may have realised, I am not your average Feminine Dominant submissive reduced to menial roles around the house and in continual service to my girlfriend. If you think that, you will have seriously misjudged me; this is perhaps one of the reasons that Elaine wishes me to write this biography, as there are not many examples of “up-market” female-dominated submissives in this world of erotica.

Without wishing to sound arrogant, I am intellectually pretty smart and well-read. In my life, I have been fortunate to find folk that have respected this and used me in their businesses in some capacity. It is true though that I retain certain key submissive tasks in function of my status as Elaine’s girl. For example, apart from our professional writing, I am responsible for her laundry and, naturally, her oral service in many capacities, as well as sexual services and other tasks at large. I am also responsible for such service to her daughter, Isabelle, when she is at home.

Isabelle is being brought up in this lifestyle as well.

Isabelle is a 19 year old lovely girl, both to look at and to serve and a “chip off the old block”, like her beautiful mother in so many ways.

As Elaine has pointed out; if anything happens to her in the future, Isabelle will take me on her as her partner, confidante and submissive, as that is how close we are.

We adore each other.

Yes, Isabelle is a lesbian, having experienced a not-so-pleasant introduction to men early in her young life and, more importantly, that relationships and love with women is certainly her sexual orientation. And yes, Elaine and Isabelle have crossed that taboo line of mother-daughter having sex together, so both of them have been, and are, heavily involved in my subjugation and service to them.

As to the house, Elaine and I both enjoy cooking and wine so that is very much leisure time for us. For the day-to-day household chores, she has employed a Thai house-keeper who has a live-in flat in one of her cottages on the premises. This arrangement between us all has freed us up for our professional work and for more play time. Indeed, Elaine, being poly-sexual, has now just started a relationship with the housekeeper, and I have taken on certain of her activities as a manifestation of my subservience and to allow them sex play time.

Although I do enjoy the life of living as a woman, there are certain hang-ups that I have had and do have with the domination of myself, what you, the reader, may term as a natural unwillingness that needs appropriate taming and discipline. My writing will explore some of these areas of reticence to obey as my biography slowly reveals itself.

At this time, though, many of these have been psychologically, or physically so, forced out of me so as to comply and submit to Elaine’s wants and orders, and thereby taking me deeper into submission. I still have such moments and thoughts of unwillingness, one of these being the enormous implication involved in full surgery to becoming a woman. Yes, I do want the operation and to offer her my pussy for her use and control and also Elaine definitely wants me as a woman, and a bi-woman at that. However, I do fear the operations that are involved, not so much because of the surgery per se, but rather that it is such an irreversible step as a process. This brings on a reticence and resistance to change that Elaine is currently coaxing out of me.

Another area that may shock you, or maybe not, is that Elaine uses me as a high-class escort mainly, but not exclusively, to women. Most of these clients she knows or they have been recommended through to her. Medical health is, of course, crucial and they have to meet her expectations and standards. However, they generally do have use of me as they see fit, though Elaine does provide certain guidance, particularly on the “No-No’s.” This “activity” is one that I still do baulk at and can find it uncomfortable and wish to rebel against, largely as I am probably more of a “one woman-gurl person” in character.

I admit that I do enjoy the thrill of being outside a client’s hotel bedroom door or on a house front-door step, awaiting the door to open and seeing who has paid very good money for my services and use of my body for whatever fetish they may be into. I have also travelled extensively in the UK and Europe for my services and that is largely an enjoyable activity, except when the airports have one of their frequent snafus.

However, the concept of sexual escorting for cash, the time with the client being what is paid for, and love and submission to Elaine, I still have to mentally separate.

She is still “encouraging” me in her usual ways to accept this as, apart from the not-inconsiderable income it brings into the house, I get to learn even more about fetish and submission, and ultimately to pleasing her. I do find it hard to make this a willing and welcome activity and an expression of my submission to her want.

So, I am sitting here about to launch my biography to you, conservatively dressed but with a preparatory, large plug in me that Elaine has inserted in me. She is sitting opposite me in our study, closely watching me, and asking about my progress in writing this. Following my scribblings, I am to dress in a soft, leather-laced corset and matching panties, and a “sultry” evening dress, as I am to head out this evening on such an engagement to have dinner with a 38 year old lawyer as her escort and then be available overnight to “please” her. I already know that she is into serious restraint, bondage and flagellation of her submissive, along with oral, watersports and strap-sex. I know that I am in for a sore bottom tomorrow morning and to continue my writing will be an interesting experience.

Chapter One

Initiation & Sexuality

It is true that I grew up in a family dominated by women. I had an emotionally remote mother who was a single-child herself and besotted with her image and evening life, and four younger sisters; I still remain close to my eldest sister today. My father was always travelling with his work and, when at home, he was pre-occupied with his charity work and clubs, so he was always out in the evenings and weekends. He was a caring Dad though and a lot of fun when he had free time.

Overall, I must say that, despite some limitations, it was a good childhood I experienced. By the age of eight, I was shipped off to what is known as a Prep School in the United Kingdom, a preparatory school to get kids, from eight to thirteen years old, up to passing a horrendous series of exams known as Common Entrance to enter our Public School system. To freak our American readers out, in true Brit form, a Public School is, in fact, a private school; the reason for this is that, for many of the older schools dating back to Mediaeval and Renaissance Age origins, they were schools for the then middle class children. To raise some additional funds for maintenance and continuity they said regular prayers to the dead in return for fees, hence a service to the “Public.” Sometimes they are referred to as “Chantry Schools.”

Less of this history lesson though, and more about me, as I am sure that you do not want a potted narration of English schooling systems. However, my prep school was fun; I was bright intellectually and quickly made my way through the years to spend some three years in the top form.

Sports-wise I was, I guess, average though I did show a good proficiency at cricket which was to stay with me. I had lots of friends and there was all the exuberance of youth as we had huge, dense woods to explore and set up tribes with their huts and forts.

Like all eleven to thirteen year old boys, our hormones went on the rampage and there were always various “romances.” Even though the school was technically a mixed one, the boarding element of it was all boys. This led to some play in these huts or in each other’s beds. I can remember such playing with a friend, Richard, cuddled in bed together in our jim-jams, as the Second Master read us a story, “The Silver Sword” by Jonathan Cape. Richard, who was twelve, had a lovely, small, pencil-like cock with a long foreskin that I played with frequently, and he with mine. We even got to exploring each other orally.

However, and I don’t like to really mention this but I guess I should as it may have had some psychological impact on me, one night a man climbed into bed alongside me. I felt his large, hard cock up rubbing against my bottom. I cannot remember him cumming over me or into the bed sheets but I was certainly petrified and numb.

Only recently have I accepted what happened.

Whether it had anything to do with what was to happen I do not know, certainly I do not think it has affected my sexuality but maybe it has influenced my want to be a bottom and submissive.

The intruder was probably the Second Master as, shortly afterwards, three of us went to the Headmaster about him after he had taken indecent pictures of one of my other friends, another Richard, who I got to know more intimately late in my time at the school. He had lured him down to the garages and had my friend strip off for a photography session. The Master was immediately fired; in today’s world he likely would have been in prison. Our reward was an advanced sex educational lesson and the three of us were made prefects the following term.

My first true experience and the loss of half of my ‘virginity’ occurred three years later at my public school.

Now this was a true Public School, boys only, full of daft and weird ancient customs and traditions, boarding in houses of sixty to eighty supervised by a Housemaster and his wife, along with a tutor. While the school never had a major academic reputation, it has had its fair share of scholars to Oxford and Cambridge and many of the Old Boys have gone onto major leadership roles in business, religion, politics and diplomacy. There have also been a number of “artists” and a substantial number of sportsmen. However, it was considered as one of Britain’s major schools.

I was in my last year though, technically, I should have been in the year behind as I was one of the youngest of my year; my Dad had got the timing of my “going up” spot on and I was in a better group as to the way we cohered together. I had progressed to being Head Boy of House for my University scholarship candidacy and, de facto, a School Prefect; this gave me considerable freedom to free-time activities as well as who I shared a study with as I controlled the study and dormitory allocations.

John was from the year before that, but there was only a few months age difference between us. He was about the same size as me, five-foot seven, quite olive skinned dark haired, slender, and a suggestive tad effeminate as he regularly ran his hand through his thick hair. He lived at some distance from the school.

He was a wonderful cricketer, a superb slow spin bowler and had joined me on the 1st Eleven. So there was a basis for our natural friendship despite the perceived “Year” difference. We regularly had shared practising the game together and also this extended to other sports such as rugby, both being ‘backs’ at that sport being amongst the sprinters and kickers of the team. Our privileges, with me being a School Prefect and both of us as 1st Eleven, allowed us to practice as we wish and avoid the compulsory run that befell anybody not on formal sports on any given day. This also meant that we had the opportunity for long chats and gossips.

John’s year had a reputation for a lot more “sexual activity” than my year.

There were two boys in my house that were known to be indulging in each other and John himself carried a reputation, largely because of his attractiveness and feminine ways. I had never seen anything directly evident up to the point I now come to, but I would own up to having a crush on him.

Life was to advance” big time” one day after heading back to the House following a sports practice session. The House was still quiet and we had the advantage of being first into the bathroom section. Now this will gross some of you out, but it seemed that we were still living in ‘primitive,’ Victorian times. True, cold baths and showers had gone out of the window, but bathing was still communal. Five baths for the juniors and middle school and then three for the seniors with a large washbasin area separating the two areas; two people to a bath and copious amounts of water over the side and refilled, which kind of kept the water a pale muddy colour, especially after rugby. As the formal games came in, it would be chaos in there.

To share a bath was nothing strange, so we ran it and disappeared into the changing area. This was hierarchically arranged, the Head Boy having a very quiet area, then fellow House Prefects in descending order of seniority and so on, right down to the newest of the new. John and I stripped down out of our cricket whites, donned towels and went into the bathroom area. Into the bath and we started chatting about something; I cannot remember what but it was something obliquely sexually related as something got us going. I do remember though getting out of the bath, drying off and heading back to my changing area. No other boy had returned from his activity.

John appeared from around the corner and sat down near me; he was just in his towel and carried on chatting. Somehow, he managed to dislodge his bath towel and I could not but help notice his cock that had already nicely hardened. Now we had seen each other enough times but this was the first time I had seen him so stiff; really, it was the first time I had seen any of the boys hard. He was pretty big, dark and he had a very nice head to him. His hand came over and onto my cock, mentioning that he had fancied being with me for some time and whether I minded.

I let him continue and he took my hand and placed it on his now throbbing member. It did feel good. John took the lead and cuddled up towards me, moving forward to kiss me, his tongue probing my lips and I allowed him into my mouth.

I could feel myself hardening but this wasn’t the place as, even though it was the most secluded and quiet place in the room, there was still a risk of being spotted.

I suggested my study as I had single occupancy of that. I had had to evict an old friend of mine who had been a prefect as he had, stupidly so, been caught smoking. This was one of those cardinal sins that beset schools at that time. So, we quickly dressed and headed over to my room and the privacy it offered us. Once inside, John continued his kissing of me, pulling me towards him, and feeling me in my trousers. I could sense his size and went to release him.

Soon we were out of our trousers and underpants and I pushed him back onto my couch so that I could go down on him and take him deep into my mouth. He filled me with his seven plus pulsating inches and I let him begin to fuck me orally. He didn’t last long and for the first time in my life, I experienced the saltiness of sperm, flooding me, exciting me, and pushing me to a new sensual height.

John moved me over on the couch and went down on me. I was smaller, with just a tad less than six inches but I have always had a reasonable girth at over a six inch circumference; anyway, I have been told that it is reasonable. Quickly, I was turned on too; the tension and excitement surged through me and I released myself into John’s waiting mouth. He moved to kiss me, intermingling the taste of our cum.

Over the rest of the term, which did not have that much to run, we were inseparable. I admitted to a fetish to him and he played along with me; I had always had a ‘weakness’ for wearing the pyjamas of those that I had fancied and, preferably, once they had worn them so I could sense their odour. I would sneak into the respective dormitory and borrow them, then change in the toilet blocks and wank myself off. I admitted that I had borrowed John’s several times over the years, as he was one of my favourites to think about.

From then on, John would wear his for me and, weekly, he would pass them on so I could wear them for the following week. He had favourite yellow striped ones that I loved being in, and then blue ones and maroon ones, both with white piping and a soft silky “nylon-esque” fabric, which I also adored the feel of. I got a big charge out of knowing that he was “close” to me with his scent and all the rest as to where his body had been, and the residue of any cum etc., on them.

John then extended this “wear and loan” to his underpants, psychologically and subconsciously, I guess, making me his property. My bottom, cock and balls were sitting next to where he had been, a continual reminder of him to me. You will see that this dimension of me was to grow and feature heavily in my submission to my future partners as my life progressed.

Our next major experience came in the school holidays. John lived over a hundred miles away from me in the depths of Yorkshire. His parents decided to go away on vacation by themselves, and his elder sister was also away travelling on her “gap year.” So, I was invited down to stay with John, the logic being to keep him company and given that we were responsible, bearing in mind the position that I held at the school, we could live by ourselves. There was a housekeeper who came in to prepare meals and to ensure the house was clean and proper.

The first thing we did when we had a moments privacy was to kiss and, before we headed out with his parents for some dinner, John produced a pair of his used underpants for me to get into and feel that more comfortable in being in his control.

That night, we slept together for the whole night, the first time we had been able to do so; our sex was mainly oral and in masturbating each other. The following day, John’s parents departed and, once dinner was over and the housekeeper had departed, we were truly alone.

I forget what we did that evening but it was in and around the house. As the evening wore on we became more exploratory and tactile with each other. John started teasing me about taking me, breaking our virginities. To that end, he suggested that I should, perhaps, be more girlie for him. I looked at him somewhat perplexed and he explained that he thought I should wear some feminine clothing.

Despite expressing some misgivings about being discovered, he calmed down by saying that we were alone and there was absolutely no risk of anybody disturbing us. Given my sensual side, I was not amiss to the idea and went along with his play. The long and short of it was that we ended up going into his sister’s bedroom and to her lingerie drawers to see what she had that I could be dressed in. John soon focused in on a white lacy bra, matching bikini style panties and a suspender belt, followed by finding some black stockings. They were the brand “Warners,” well respected as a leading maker back then. John also pulled out of one her medium length white nighties for me.

I can remember him saying, “Here we are, change into them and you will be my girlfriend this trip if you enjoy the feeling.” John left me to change.

Now I haven’t mentioned anything about myself. Back then I was five foot seven, weighed around sixty kilos and was fairly slender with a thirty-six inch chest. My hair was a coppery colour, face was freckled and with greyish green eyes. I slipped out of my outer clothing and felt the lingerie in my hands, probably as I was still rather nervous about this. Its touch was soft, sensual and sexy to me. I slipped into his sister’s bra by putting it on backwards, attaching it from the front onto the little u-clips, before turning it around and slipping my arms through the straps. I chose some of her panties to act as padding of the cups.

The suspender belt went on next and I rolled on my stockings, thanking myself for having a female family so I knew roughly how to do it in rolling the stocking up before putting my toes into it and unravelling it up my legs. I attached them to the garters and this started to feel sensual and very different, especially with the garters gently pulling on their hosiery partners.

And then came the panties. I stepped into them and pulled them up into position. I was transfixed and hooked for life with the feeling, and with the implication that I was “female.” This was driven by the feeling of the soft material against my skin, the sight of the lace and smooth, ribboned front panel holding me in and, finally, the deep meaning of the gusset up against my perineum, knowing what that soft material normally held.

I slipped into the final item, the nightie, and felt wonderful. This was such a new and highly stimulating feeling and that I was to play the role of girlfriend to my young man, John, who was waiting for me. I took one of his sister’s brushes and ran it through my thick hair, sweeping it outwards. I also managed to find her perfume and sprayed myself with that. Nervously, I left the room and headed down the corridor to John’s room.

John was already in bed, so I climbed in alongside him and cuddled in. He was already ‘wowing’ me over how I looked and just how sexy I was. He moved close to me and was soon exploring me with his mouth, gently kissing me, and working me up into an excited, stimulated state. His hands roamed over me, feeling me in my girlie envelope, seeking out his object of desire and playing his light fingers over the front of the panties to tease me to full hardness. His hand slipped in side and I moaned with the pleasure of his touch. He caressed and gently frotted me, slowly building me up further. His fingers moved down my love area and under to find what was to become my gurl pussy, touching me softly, stroking me, then letting a finger play over the entrance, and, finally, to insert it into me.

It felt a little weird but my muscles relaxed around him and he pushed it a little further in.

He moved down my body and edged my panties aside to take me in his mouth. His mouth felt good as his tongue rolled around my head, taking in my stiffness. I wanted to return the compliment or, more importantly, to have him in my mouth too. I suggested that we moved into a sixty-nine and John adjusted himself around so that I could enjoy him, his dark musty cock rapidly filling my mouth and allowing me to taste his pre-cum. I just so loved pleasing him in this manner and to feel him surge deep into my throat.

This was not to be though. John pulled out of me and turned around. He took my panties down, removed them from me and then turned me over, pushing my nightie up off my well-proportioned bottom. He slid a couple of his pillows under my tummy and had me lie on them face down, thereby presenting my derriere for his pleasure. His fingers roamed over my globes and up and down my valley mercilessly probing my anus, preparing me for his eventual taking of me. He took a little lubricant gel and applied it to my rosebud; this made me open up that more for his invading digits and they were feeling so good in my “home.”

I felt John move up my back and his hard, throbbing cock at my gurl-entrance. He smoothly pushed at me and, tenderly so, I ceded to him, my entrance ring easing to accept his wanting snake into me. I grimaced a little, but all his foreplay paid off and John was able to slide into me easily. God, he felt wonderful in there, filling himself deep into me and pressurising my gurl g-spot. He started to fuck me at a light rhythm, letting me relax and rock to his pace, allowing me to press my bottom back onto him and prevent him from sliding out of me. He held my bottom tightly with his hands but, as his momentum gained and my rocking strengthened, he took hold of my shoulders and I could sense his chest across my back. I was feeling so hot and excited and the next thing I felt was him ejaculating his love juice deep into me. I came just behind, a mind-blowing orgasm and, at that time, one of the strongest of my young life.

I look back with affection on this, as it was a wonderful way to be taken for the first time. Another boyfriend was later to say, "that once you have had a hard cock deep in you, you will always cherish one.” It is true but that first cock, John’s lovely weapon, has always been a special memory in my life.

The stay was a huge amount of fun, watching cricket in the daytime and even playing two games, as well as our exploration of each other with all the time and space that we had to do so.

His sister’s lingerie got well used but I was pretty handy at getting it washed, dried and pressed. Too soon it was all over and his parents returned, but it set a strong foundation for a discreet but torrid relationship that we managed to have back at school, with the advantage of John sharing my study the following term.

Chapter Two

Giving Myself to Hannah

(Oh, does she have so much to answer for)

I left school at the end of the following term at Christmas, having landed a place for the following October at one of the leading Universities and also with a reasonably generous bursary to help finance it. The course I had chosen was to prove to be much closer to what I wanted in comparison to the one offered at Cambridge as the latter was too theoretical and mathematical, whereas the one I studied for involved a lot of fieldwork and other support subjects and not only in my main discipline. I am jumping ahead though as I had ten months “off” which now get referred to as the “Gap Year.”

My parents gently kicked me out of the house and, in retrospect, I thank them for that as, whatever school one goes to, it is socially “pre-coloured” by the relatively limited band of society that the school reflects in its pupil catchment area. Living away from home, and travelling, means a range of new experiences for a young student and the chance to meet rich and poor, academics and pragmatists, and all different strata of society at large.

I went and worked with a company near Peterborough and had lodgings booked from January until August of my Gap Year. Work was nicely set up as it allowed me to work five days on and two off, thereby accumulating days for longer breaks. This was to be a big advantage for Hannah and me and, on top of this, I was travelling to the London head office a fair amount, as well as through London airports.

I first met Hannah when I was seven years old and she was nine. This was down in the South-West of England where our families had holiday apartments in the same block. We had played together as young children with other kids on vacation and staying there. There was a regular gang of some ten of us that would meet on the Easter and Summer holidays and who knocked around together. I had last seen her when I was about twelve.

It was on one of my early accumulated breaks that I headed down to the South-West to stay in the family apartment. It didn’t take long as I soon noticed that there was this attractive dark-brown haired, brown-eyed woman walking around the piazza. We got talking on the beach in front of the apartments one afternoon; this extended to a drink in a local hostelry, then a walk and eventually a date. I quickly discovered that it was indeed Hannah.

How do I describe her?

Well to begin, Hannah was nearly the same height as myself at the time, perhaps an inch lower but, with her shoes on, we were just about the same. She had dark brown hair which was fairly short, brown eyes, not a huge breast size (a 36B) with dark pert nipples, and was fairly full in the bottom. She wore a size 8 to 10 UK dress size, so she was not fat but, on the other hand, wasn’t a slender bean-pole. She was quite pretty looking with a subtle, serene look and she loved to dress nicely. She was very smart and much better read than me, not surprising her advance over me in education; however, we did share interests in the arts as she also art gallery scene and I loved to paint.

She had left school and gone up to London University at a relatively young age of seventeen to read History and Philosophy. She was now nineteen and in her third year of four as she wished to add a Masters, living in the Primrose Hill area of London, just to the north of Regent’s Park. Her father was involved in senior diplomatic activities and her family were spread around the globe. As such, he was out to set his children up early on in life, having faced various challenges when he was young. Hannah was the youngest of the family with two elder brothers and a sister and he had bought her a nice apartment for her to give her independence at University and an asset to start her off on the housing chain.

We dated for the next two evenings, talked our heads off, held hands, walked the local cliffs, kissed passionately, everything any young couple would do - and ended up in her bed, where she took my male-to-female virginity. I can remember entering her tight, moist pussy for the first time and sensing the intensity of the orgasm that shook her body.

The rest of the trip we were like rabbits in love; daytimes spent in each other’s company exploring local galleries, exhibitions and antique shops; evenings eating out in pubs and small restaurants, going for long romantic walks and kissing. Hannah was a wonderful teacher and quickly I learnt how to properly massage her, oral her, how to focus on her whole mound, suck her clit and roll my tongue over it, how to gently take her labial lips and enjoy them. And then how to properly use my mouth on her pussy entrance, her perineum, her anal rosebud, and where all her erotic points were and, hence, all of this so as to bring the best out of her to maximise her orgasms.

When we started on the next stage, I cannot precisely remember. After our initial “holiday” time in the South-West, I went back to work and my next trip to visit Hannah in Primrose Hill was the following weekend; it was only three hours by train and taxi between us. She had a lovely 2nd floor south facing apartment with views over the Park. It was light and airy, nicely appointed and furnished for a student place. It came with two bedrooms but Hannah preferred to live by herself, having set up the second bedroom as a study-cum-guest room.

It was I think on my third visit that things really began. We had been out in the afternoon doing some shopping and sightseeing in and around Camden Market. We were due to head out again that evening to meet her mother and a brother for dinner, down near the Tate Gallery in Chelsea. Getting back to the apartment, we had a little session of kissing and then a quick love- making session before we showered together and started to dress.

It was then that Hannah asked me if I would wear her panties “for some fun” later that evening and to provide me with a continual reminder of her pussy up against me while we were out.

She tossed me the panties that she had been wearing that afternoon, a blue bikini and still damp from being up against her pussy. I slid myself into them and the feeling was sensational as her soft material wrapped itself around me. Hannah smiled and ran her hand over my crotch and my bottom; I was nearly ready to take her again but we were due out and it was a family “event.”

Dinner was fun and all the time I was a little on edge, not from meeting Hannah’s mother as, of course, it wasn’t the first time in my life that I had met her, but rather knowing that I was in her daughter’s underwear and that her daughter was callously teasing me for later.

We eventually “escaped” and returned to Hannah’s place. Inside the door we passionately embraced and kissed, our tongues interlocking in a deep French kiss. Hannah asked me,

“Did you enjoy wearing my panties? Did you enjoy the thought of my pussy being next to you?”

I had to admit that I had been nicely ‘tortured’ by the thought of her against her and that I had been erect for a lot of the dinner, my cock up against the soft front panel of the panties. And how I could sense her damp pussy against my undersides, especially when we travelled over to the restaurant.

“Well let’s have another look at them, then.”

Hannah’s hands undid my belt and she lowered my trousers. Her hands went to feel me, around my bottom and then over my crotch, cupping my balls and touching my now-hard penis through the soft fabric.

“What a nice sight this is, and what do we have here?”

She released me a little from the tightness of her panties and, promptly, took me in her mouth. Her tongue rolled over me teasing my head. She felt so good as she took me deeper into her mouth, bringing me to a full-on hardness. I wanted to cum into her, to have her swallow me but she pulled back and pulled my panties up.

“Come on, my panties-lover, I want you in bed. In fact, I think I should have you always in panties as you look so good.”

We went through to her bedroom and back onto the bed, still ruffled from our earlier activities. Hannah had me take off my clothing, except for my panties, and then I had slowly to strip her except for her pink, bikini panties. I could see her small, brown nipples were already pushing themselves out to be succoured and that she was obviously wet from the tell-tale sign on her panties. She pushed me down onto the bed and went to climb over me.

“Maybe I should let you sniff my scent directly from these. I have been pretty wet all evening too.”

She lowered bottom directly onto my nose, pushing my nose and mouth upwards into her gusset. Her wonderfully sharp cunt and bottom aroma invaded my nostrils and I could taste her pre-cum soaking through the shiny fabric, making it available for both our enjoyment. She literally masturbated herself to a first orgasm on my face, using me as her personal dildo, especially letting my nose play off her swollen clitoris and down her love channel along her lips to her opening pussy entrance and then down to her other tunnel. I was completely sold on this, my first ever queening, and my first true submission to her. As she juddered on me, she pressed down even harder and, in doing so, made me hers, her toy for oral pleasure.

Hannah abruptly rose from me but only to stand above me and provocatively remove her panties,

“I’m going to make you sleep in these; you will take in my aroma tonight so you will want even more of me, my panties-boy; you will come to worship my pussy and please me. I want you to serve me, to be my orgasm machine”

She was suggestively playing with herself, opening her gleaming labia to show me her pinkness and just how wet she was there, still glistening with her climax. She ran her middle finger up between her lips and pushed it deep into her vagina, letting me know how ready she was to be taken. She bent over and offered me the sticky honey off her finger, rubbing it under my nose before letting me clean it.

“Ok, I now need you to pleasure me again.”

With that, Hannah lowered herself once more onto me, this time pointing down the bed, offering her anus to my nose and direct access of my tongue to please her. I felt the full weight of her bottom on my face, the light disappearing as I entered this position of total subservience to her. My tongue darted forward and immediately I could taste her, to take her next wave of pre-cum into my mouth, and to relish in her essence. She moved herself forward a little to allow me to breath and then sat back again; this she repeated and repeated on me, controlling my breath, as I slowly brought her up her hill of pleasure.

She began to increase her pace of rocking as her excitement grew and her hands went forward to massage me through her panties on me, trying to tease my head out of their silken home. I could hear her moaning as she started to peak.

When she did come, it was more of a spurt into my mouth and over my chin. She had not come like this in the short time that I had known her; she soaked me, her cum flooding my mouth, making me swallow her creamy love juice. I was in seventh heaven now. Hannah knew what to do and slid forward on me; she pulled my panties sharply down and quickly mounted me, burying me to the hilt on her. This sensation of being in her sopping pussy was what I needed and I just exploded into her, my own orgasm drilling deeply and numbly into my brain.

This sent another wave of pleasure over her and she sank herself deeply onto me, revelling on the pleasure of my hard cock in her. We stayed in that position for fifteen minutes or so, both enjoying the moment of each other and what had happened.

We were both beat. We cleaned ourselves up and readied ourselves and the bed for sleeping. Just as I was about to turn into bed, Hannah reminded me,

“My panties from this afternoon on you, please.”

I obeyed her and slipped back into them, their silky feel making me semi-hard again.

“And honey, rather than pyjamas, would you wear this for me?”

She went into her drawers and pulled out a two-thirds length white nightie that was not unlike the one she was wearing and handed it to me. “Put it on, please. I love sleeping next to someone in a nightie and panties. It is so soft and sexy and you will be so ‘accessible’ to my hands or mouth and if I want to take you in the middle of the night or tomorrow morning....”

Her voice trailed off with the suggestive thought. Having worn John’s sister’s nightgown before, I wasn’t exactly protesting to this so I duly wriggled into it, pulling the straps into place and smoothing out what was the breast line. It felt so natural being there dressed in a simple, white nightie and with Hannah’s panties enveloping my sexual area.

“Mmmm, you look so good. I just love seeing you in them. Come here.”

We cuddled in and I let her hands wander over me.

“See how you sleep in the nightie and panties, but I would love you to do this for me any time we sleep with each other.”

She thought about this and immediately came back,

“No, I need you to do that.”

We kissed.

“If you like, I’ll get you a longer, softer, nightie too. That will feel magnificent around you, swathed in silk and next to me, waiting to serve me as my own boy-gurl.”

“Before you fall asleep, there is one more thing that I promised you.”

Hannah pulled her pink panties out from under the sheets and slipped them over my head. As well, she produced an old stocking and ran that through the leg holes, tying it at the back of my head so as to tighten the still damp gusset onto my nose.

“Now you can enjoy the scent of my pussy as you fall asleep and if you awake during the night. Love you.”

That is how I eventually fell asleep, to the scent of my lover and in her arms, cuddled into her. Next morning, after a very arousing love session and then breakfast, we went shopping visiting Selfridges and Fenwick’s. Not only did Hannah have some income but, at that time, I was making extremely good money with my job. I became the proud owner of a long cream nightie and we bought Hannah some extra panties that we could both share.

Hannah made me undertake not to wear male underwear or pyjamas in her presence. She later said that she found that seeing me in women’s underwear and sleepwear very erotic and she admitted that the very notion would add spice to her masturbation when I was away. The rest of the weekend was full of wonderful sex as I got to please my new “domme,” really learning the nuances of her love areas. I left for work with some of her panties to wear and enjoy, until she sent me a love letter with some freshly worn ones in. It gave an added piquancy to her missives.

The wearing of panties and nighties then became more in terms of opening up my experiences of femininity and submission to my girlfriend. On the following trip to London, Hannah re-introduced me to the pleasures of wearing suspenders and stockings, and then her bras, as she continued on her course to develop my female side. We duly added a selection of these to our collection for my use. I was also enjoying wearing lingerie when I wasn’t with her and not just as a reminder of this wonderful young woman. I really enjoyed being a gurl.

With the addition of bras and hosiery, I was now ensconced in female lingerie when with her, twenty-four seven, and thoroughly enjoying it. Sex now included being penetrated with a vibrator and I really enjoyed using one on her; she definitely was more than satisfied by it given her strong orgasms, her occasional spurt ejaculation and the moans of ecstasy that ran through her body. I noticed that when it came to the physical wedding of us when I entered her, she by far much preferred to control the fucking by being on top of me and frigging herself off on my cock.

Chapter Three

Hannah Introduces Me to Dana

The next stage, I guess, was a very logical one to happen. Hannah’s father’s job meant that she had a wide circle of contacts into the London diplomatic world, especially at the embassy level and it wasn’t unusual that she had many invites to attend functions, especially the more informal ones. Themed fancy dress had become a fashion for many of the events.

Hannah wasn’t a massive party-goer but, with me visiting her, she decided to use one of these invites to attend a function. The invitation was from the Ethiopian Embassy and it was well known that they threw an excellent party with lots of colour, music and a good selection of food and wine, along with a cosmopolitan range of guests.

I had arrived from Peterborough on the Friday night and, out for a meal, Hannah showed me the invitation. I asked her what theme she had in mind for us.

“Oh, it’s very simple. We have a legitimate opportunity to cross-dress and I get to see what you really look like as a woman and see if you can carry it off. If you do, this could open up all sorts of fun.”

I am not sure what my reaction was apart from amazement.

“I know that you will make a lovely girlfriend for me and that you will relish the role to serve me. So tomorrow, you are under my orders for a full transformation. Ok?”

Hannah went onto explain that she had booked me next day into a salon in St. John’s Wood, run by a friend of hers and that they would wax me, do my nails and also shape my hair. If you remember, this was when men’s styles were long and I have always been blessed in having thick, female like hair.

Hannah also went onto explain that this transformation wasn’t for just the Saturday and that she wanted me to live as a female for the whole long weekend so as to get a better appreciation of being feminine, and in rendering sexual service to her as her submissive.

Although I admit that I could feel my cock harden in Hannah’s used panties that I was wearing, I also was rather nervous at this prospect. It was alright to go out to a fancy dress party but walking the streets of the city as we would inevitable do so, or enter a pub, a café or restaurant was another matter. Hannah sensed this and said that I should not worry and, ultimately, this was for her. As she said this, she teased me with her hands under the table.

Sex that evening was another hot oral servitude session, combined with vibrator play. I went to sleep in my long, cream nightie along with scenting Hannah in my nose through her panties that she had worn that day, and wrapped up in her arms.

I was content but still a little nervous about the next day.

We woke and immediately Hannah asked me to please her orally as she was wont to. I went to shower and when I came back into the bedroom, there on the bed was laid out a white bra and Hisides briefs, along with what were foam falsies. This was, of course, just before silicon prostheses became widely available. Even back then, though we were relatively well off, our finances would have been seriously stretched to buy a pair. In addition to the lingerie, Hannah had laid out a pair of her fawn women’s pants, a cream silk top and a cappuccino coloured, long cardigan.

Hannah pointed out that we were just about the same size and that she thought that her clothes ought to fit me like the proverbial glove.

The one thing that she had gone out and bought were shoes in my size and I saw a pair of matching low heel pumps waiting for me. Nervously, I put on the lingerie and inserted my falsies into the bra; these were far more superior to using padding for shaping a breast line and felt so much better. Hannah stopped me going further and had me sit down while she applied some basic make-up.

I put on her top and then the pants; it was a thrill to be in her clothing and the pants especially felt different to the male cut, probably because of the higher waist band that came up close to by tummy button. With my fuller, low slung bottom though, they did not look totally out of place on my rear. I looked in the mirror and was surprised with how I looked; I hadn’t expected to see one of my sisters staring back at me. Hannah smiled and commented that I looked pretty good and passable, and that I should immediately sign up to become her slave-girl. I replied that I thought that I already was. Hannah finished her dressing; she too was wearing slacks and a blouse.

Breakfast over, my cardigan on, we took a London taxi over to St. John’s Wood to the salon as it was lightly raining. Hannah greeted her friend and we went through for treatment. Despite some embarrassment, as this was the first time, and on Hannah’s precise guidance, I emerged after lunch, hairless under my eyelashes, my nails cleaned, manicured and made up and with my hair styled and swept into a more feminine look. Hannah went for a massage; however she too had a full wax of her mound and bottom.

Hannah kissed me when she saw the final look and took some photos of me, both for herself and the salon. It was at that moment she asked me,

“What do you think then, Clare?”

I looked at her.

“What do you think of your transformation, Clare? I think that Clare is a nice, pretty, feminine name for you.”

So this is how my name was conceived and I have always stayed with it. I replied that I loved it and that my body was still feeling warm, despite the relative lack of pain of the waxing. And, thank goodness, probably because I was reasonably light haired, though the treatment of the top of my shoulders had been the most painful part. Despite some nervousness at the outset, I thought that I could now manage the evening ahead. I admitted that the morning had been quite a test as I was there largely naked in front of other girls, especially when I had undergone the Brazilian. I had learnt that confidence in this feminisation process was, indeed, an important factor. As Hannah said, I had done it for her and, looking back, it was something that I would not have done for a few more years without her insistence and guidance.

We headed off to a café for a late lunch and glass of wine, talking about the experience and the evening ahead, as well as some of the people she knew who would be there. Hannah used this as a pretext to then opening up a little more about her ‘drivers.’

“Clare, as you know I have been blessed with being able to get through my first degree very quickly and I am hoping for a ‘First.’ Given my Dad’s background, he has pushed me to do this but I would have loved to do what you are doing in having ten months off, effectively an academic year between school and University.”

Back then, we did not call time-off a gap year.

“Well, though it tees me up for my Masters and then after that maybe a Doctorate in the States or Canada, it has come at a cost. In reality and truthfully, I am the youngest by a mile on my course and I have found it a little difficult to relate to fellow students as I am naturally dominant and demanding; it is probably one of the reasons I love being with you, as you are younger than me.

She sipped her white wine.

“I am a person who knows what she wants, and I guess the dominance doesn’t gel well, or naturally, with older students. So again, another reason I love you as you provide a wonderful submissive foil for me and I adore having you worship me in life and sexually.”

I smiled and said, “Continue.”

“I know that you are bi, Clare; you told me if you remember. I think most of us are if we are truly honest with ourselves and, if you haven’t realised, I am too. In fact, my orientation has always been more to women but with you, you provide me with a lovely blend of both; a submissive feminine male, like you, is one of the relationships that I have come to realise that I need in my life.”

“I can understand that.”

“I have to mention something to you and that is I do have an old school friend and we’ve been lesbian lovers, on and off, since we were fifteen. Dana will be there so let’s see what happens, but I know she will enjoy meeting you. I think that you will like her.”

Hannah then told me about Dana and how she had gone into nursing. She was blonde haired with a bob cut, eyed, pretty, five foot six, and much curvier than we two were. They were really good friends at school but didn’t see too much of each other now however, when they did, they had a good time with lots of laughter and usually ended up sleeping with each other, Hannah being the domme of the two of them.

Hannah had managed to get Dana invited to the party as she, Dana, had wanted to meet me to see who her girlfriend was going out with and, secondly, because Hannah wanted a three-way between us all. I was rapidly realising that Hannah was a lot more mysterious and kinkier than I had thought. She suggested, no commanded me, that she wanted me to be subservient to both of them tonight.

We walked back across the north side of Regent’s Park to Hannah’s apartment, my hand in Hannah’s and occasionally we stopped for a kiss while Hannah’s hands roamed across me, exploring her new female “girlfriend.”

Stepping inside, I offered myself to Hannah’s pleasure and she declined me, saying that we should reserve our energy for later but that she would take a massage from me and then we should get a nap and sleep off the effects of the waxing. We stripped off down to our panties and put nighties on and climbed onto the bed.

Having woken up and had some tea, it was time to get ready for the evening. Hannah had me start of the process by me taking an enema to clean me out for later pleasure. Following this, we showered together, dried off, and Hannah sat me down to make-me up, suggesting that I ought to learn how to do this myself. She had a friend who worked in Harrods and she would ask her if she could give me some tuition on a future visit.

Indeed, there were several tasks that I should learn, one of them being how to hand-wash lingerie out so that I would be responsible for keeping all our underwear clean and it would give me an additional reminder of who was in charge. She carefully defined my eyes and used darker shades; she highlighted my cheek bones and gently built up my lipstick. Having made herself up with just a touch of make-up, we came to the dressing part.

Hannah pulled out a black bra for herself and a pair of simple bikini panties. She asked me to dress her and I held the bra open for her to put her arms through and her breasts into the cups, before attaching the clips at the back.

“Now, Clare, the panties, but first I want a little pussy worship from you. Onto your knees.”

I complied, dropping to my knees even though I was naked.”

“Use your tongue, not your lips as you are not to smudge the make-up, and kiss my pussy.”

I nudged forward bringing my head close into Hannah’s freshly shaved mons. God, she looked good and I could spend the rest of the evening in adoration of her love channel. I could see that her stripped cunt was a little moist and I could certainly smell her familiar sex odour. I extended my tongue and softly licked her; she pressed her pussy down in anticipation onto me. I let it slide up and down her.

“Ok, that is enough, just a reminder of what to expect later. Help me into my panties, but kiss the crotch first.”

I opened her plain, black, silky panties and obeyed her command, kissing the soft cotton finish of the gusset. Having done this, I proffered Hannah her panties and she stepped into them for me to pull them up into place and smooth them out.

“Now my clothing, help me on with this.”

Hannah had chosen a charcoal-grey suit and one of my shirts, cufflinks and silk ties, as well as socks. She had managed to locate a pair of black, lace-up brogues, which I had polished in the morning. I helped her to get dressed in all of this, still naked in front of her, buttoning up her shirt, knotting the tie and helping her into the trousers. She looked really good and her short haircut worked well as she hadn’t swept her hair back.

“Well, it is time for you to get dressed.”

She turned to her lingerie drawers and pulled out a full-length-black, brocade corset and passed it to me.

“I borrowed this from my sister some time ago, Clare. She has the same bra size as me, so it should fit you. Let’s try it on and see how it fits you.”

I slipped my arms through the thin arm-straps and inserted my falsies into the cups as Hannah clipped the corset together at the back. She took the long, cord laces and started to tug them together, knotting them around the eyelets and pulling them in. I slowly felt the cinching of my waist as the stays started to do their work. She kept asking me how I was feeling; she said she wanted me feeling restrained in but not short of air or breathing spaces. She gradually worked her way down the eyelets and the corset started to do its work.

“Mmmm, this is a nice way to have you, all as mine.”

Hannah finished off the lacing and slipped the cords into a bow so the ends hung down over my bottom. She gave me black stockings to roll up my naked legs and attach them to the heavy garters of the corset. The stockings felt wonderful against my freshly, denuded skin. I could understand why women enjoyed this feeling and the sense of the hose tugging on their attachments.

“Now what do we have here?”

Hannah pulled out a black thong of a sealed bag. She turned it inside out and lifted it to my nose. I could discern a sweet sex smell off them, different to Hannah’s.

“Clare, I want you to wear Dana’s thong tonight. This is her wonderful scent and I love oralling her and having her cum onto me. If she likes you tonight, you may get to enjoy it as well.”

She pushed it into my nose and I inhaled deeply. Indeed, she was very sweet in aroma. Then she gave them to me to climb into and place over my corset garters.

“Ok, your dress now.”

Hannah went into the cupboard and produced this beautiful Jaeger dark navy silk wrap-dress with a tiny white polka dot print. From a semi-transparent shoulder covering and short arms covering two straps, it flowed downwards into a delicate waterfall hem, featuring a flattering tie at the waist to define my figure. I stepped into it and Hannah did up the button at the nape of my neck.

“Here are your shoes.”

She gave me a pair of simple, black, patent pumps that when I slipped them on, they highlighted my dress and kept me at the same height as Hannah. She took a gold woven chain necklace and put that around my neck, along with a couple of bangles, a pair of clip earrings and, finally, sprayed me with some of her perfume.

“Ok, let’s have a look at you now. Give us a twirl, Clare.”

I spun around slowly, looking at myself in the mirror and I could not really believe that it was me standing there. Hannah had done an amazing job in transforming me.

“Thank you, Hannah, I love the look. It is so simple and natural.”

“Just as my girlfriend, my sex-slave should look; simple but classy. There’s one thing missing though.”

She took out this black choker that had a ring built into the front of it and attached this to me. She secured it into place at the back of my neck with a small padlock.

“I have to show everybody tonight that you are mine. So you will wear this collar, Clare. I am going to attach a chain to it so it gives the impression of kink between us. However, I am serious that I want you as my sex-slave and you shall give yourself to me tonight, and as we go forward. Let’s be on our way.”

Hannah gave me one of her coats and attached the leash to my choker. She led me out of the apartment block; we hailed and managed to catch a taxi to drive over to Prince’s Gate, on the south side of Hyde Park and close to the Royal Albert Hall.

Arriving at the Embassy, we settled with the cabbie and Hannah again led me, down the Gate towards the Embassy, up the four steps and through the imposing front door.

The party was in full swing and there were a wide variety of characters and flamboyant outfits on show. Even though Hannah and I seemed to be the only cross-dressed people present, I would not stand out too much in this odd ensemble ranging from vicars to tarts and even a couple as Push-me-Pull-me. We were introduced to various Ethiopian dignitaries and they came across as very welcoming. In fact, over the time I was with Hannah, and later in my professional life, I came to realise that they are some of the nicest people on the African continent.

The place was packed but glasses of wine arrived very quickly in our hands. Eventually, Hannah saw Dana and she came across to us. Hannah kissed her, lips to lips and then introduced us. Dana gave me a little greeting kiss and laughingly whispered, “Enjoying wearing one of my thongs?”

She was, indeed, very pretty and exactly as Hannah had described her. A little smaller than Hannah and me; however, certainly, that bit curvier than us two, with a D cup and full bottom. Her eyes twinkled and she had a lovely shaped mouth; she had a slight resemblance to today’s Zara Philips, Princess Anne’s daughter, but with more of a pixie nose.

Dana was dressed as a “Dorothy,” essentially in pink and white with white hosiery and even white Mary-Jane shoes. She looked cute and impish in this outfit.

The party was a carefree and enjoyable evening, in part because of the nature of the dress and some of them were pretty outrageous, the wine flowing freely, and the hospitality of the Ethiopians. The sight of a young boy-gurl dressed to kill and being led around the floor with a chain attached to a choker held by either of his girlfriends in male clothing, or a Dorothy character, was not really out of place. The two girls took it on themselves not to let go of me during the evening, even when it came to going to the “bathroom.”

That was solved by Hannah taking me into the Ladies and insisting that I went as a woman. Another first for me and again another situation that she forced me to obey her and overcome my reticence and especially as it was the diplomatic representative offices of another nation.

We left the party just before midnight and all three of us headed back to Hannah’s apartment. Dorothy was carrying an overnight bag. On getting in, I was released from my leash and asked to get a bottle of wine and three glasses. We sat back and chatted about the evening.

Gradually, though, the conversation turned to Hannah and Dana’s past love-making and then it drifted towards Hannah and me and how we had met and got into this cross-dressing scenario. Dana was inquisitive of how all this had developed but she knew who of the two of us was driving this.

Having opened another bottle, the conversation was now quite blue and suggestive. Hannah moved over to Dana on the large sofa and started to lead in kissing her provocatively, very much a tongue kiss probing between her lips. Dana responded and let Hannah control her, murmuring softly at her partner’s attention. Hannah’s hand disappeared under Dana’s layered frills of her dress, no doubt to seeking out her love button buried in her panties. I could see that Dana was dressed in white stockings and garters attaching them to a suspender belt or other item of corsetry.

Hannah’s kissing and caressing soon elevated Dana’s murmurings to full moans. She suggested that I remove my dress and to help take off Dana’s costume. I stepped out of my dress and shoes and did as I was ordered, revealing Dana’s underwear, a corset like mine but white in colour. Her breasts were full and with a light freckling across the top of her chest and down to the valley between them.

Hannah pulled me up and ordered me to remove her own clothing while she continued to kiss and play with Dana. This was somewhat of a convolution for me as I shuffled around to obey her without breaking the continuity of their kissing. Somehow I managed to remove her suit, tie, shirt, shoes and sock and get her down to her black bra and panties. Hannah signalled that I should get behind her and start to please her bottom and pussy through her panties.

I moved into position as requested and immediately I knew that she was being turned on by the prospect of a three-way session between us all. Her aroma was already exuding off her through her panties, its familiar intense and heady scent penetrating my mind. I caressed her bottom, gently kneading her globes and lowered my head towards her love valley.

Her panties were already showing her dampness, the early effects of her stimulation of Dana showing through. I let my tongue do its work, lapping at the now-oozing cream and letting know that I was there for her, though not directly in touch with her. She pushed her bottom back into my head to give me better access to her to her pantied love crevice.

Hannah moved down Dana’s body to centre her attention on the inviting white-pantied mound that Dana was presenting to her, urgent to be satisfied. I had to adjust accordingly and her new position allowed me to use my fingers on stroking Hannah’s love button and then outline her pussy with them as I rubbed down her lips to push at her currently “guarded” entrance. I felt her squirm with pleasure as I teased her in this manner, preparing Hannah for what lay ahead.

Hannah then surprised me, taking me out of this lovely service to her,

“Ok, Clare, I want you to take Dana’s panties off with your mouth.”

I complied and inched over to Dana who was lying there with her legs wide apart, giving me a clear view of her gusseted mound and the outline of her pussy. She too was evidently excited and she was clearly very wet.

Using my teeth, I took hold of her white hi-cut panties band and pulled it downwards. Thank goodness, Dana helped me by lifting her bottom a little to allow them to slide down over her pale skin. I revealed yet another hairless pussy; all three of us were the same in terms of being denuded down there. Her wetness that had permeated her panties was more than evident both visually and scent wise. Her lips were glistening and her clitoris was already swelling as her reaction to Hannah’s delicate and professional touch.

“Smell Dana’s panties, Clare. You need to learn the difference between us.”

I took her panties into my hands and lifted them to my nose to inhale her sweet scent, very similar to what Hannah had presented to me on Dana’s thong earlier in the evening, and which I was still wearing. They were still creamy inside from the pre-cum that Hannah had triggered her to release.

Meanwhile Hannah had lowered her head into Dana’s love area and was using her mouth and tongue to please her girlfriend’s clit. With well-practiced moves, she worked over Dana’s clit, her mouth clasping over it and the bottom of her mons, drawing her into her mouth, teasing out of its hood her little friend. And then gentle clockwise rolling of her clit with her tongue and a small suction kiss.

Having taken in Dana, I knew my duty was to Hannah and so I came up again behind Hanna and used my teeth to lower and remove her black panties off her. My face too disappeared into Hannah’s love area, taking pleasure in her honey emissions, and using my tongue to stimulate her further. With her bottom directly in front of me, accessing the sharp, slightly acrid, peppery taste of her back-slit was easy and natural. I worked my tongue, tenderly into her, playfully arousing her, dipping down lower over her perineum willingly to soak up her emerging dew.

Hannah pushed back onto me, wanting more of this action, wanting me to push even deeper into her love channels. I knew that Dana was also responding to Hannah’s by her muted “I love you” sounds and whimpers. Hannah intensified her strokes, running her tongue and her nose further into Dana’s love slit, working over the outside of her inner labia and down over the creases and folds of her lips there and, finally, down over her urethra before repeating her action.

Hannah’s response to me was to relax a little more around her anus, allowing me to enter that bit deeper into her as if my tongue was a small dildo. She also started to cream quite heavily and I knew that her first orgasm was not that far off from arriving and washing over her. Dana was also starting to gyrate on Hannah, her mound rising and lowering to Hannah’s rhythm of her tongue and nose. Hannah pushed back even tighter onto my face, making me focus only on her and the goal of giving her the pleasure that she was seeking. Dana came first, releasing onto Hannah’s tongue allowing her to take her love juice into her. Hannah immediately responded and pressed hard onto my face, searching for that little bit more of depth from my tongue in her.

I felt her cumming.

She pulled her tummy in with the spasm that was hitting her and then back on to me to release herself. I moved my mouth downwards in time to catch her ejaculation as her tidal wave ran over her, releasing her love sugar over me and into me.

We lay there, bathing in the love and warmth of the moment. I softly cleaned her up, something that she appeared to like by her little movements to facilitate my wandering tongue. A number of smaller tremors brought more of her heavier cream out of her, something that I had come to love, this intense love juice that she offered me.

Hannah suggested that we head into the bedroom. We picked ourselves up and made our way through and climbed onto Hannah’s bed.

“I really need you two to please me now; Clare, your face on me underneath me and Dana, I want to play with you.”

I moved into position so I was facing down the bed. Hannah stood above me and that wonderful bottom, with its fragrant love grotto that I so adored, slowly lowered on to me. She was still crusty from her previous orgasm and I was soon bathed in her juices.

Dana climbed onto me, just above my boy-clit and Hannah started to kiss her, her tongue searching her, sucking her in. Their hands played with each other’s breasts, playing and tweaking each other’s lovely nipples. Hannah pushed her bottom down on me, enveloping me as her sex slave in her world, gripping me so that I had to pay homage to her and tongue her on and upwards towards her next orgasm.

Dana and Hannah kissed intimately, Hannah responding by adjusting her rhythm on me and to ensure full air control as my nose worshipped her anus, revelling in its sweet odour, whilst my tongue enjoyed her feminine nectar, now starting to flow again.

I felt Dana move back onto me to lower herself onto my boy-clit; her pussy filling up with me as she, too, started to fuck herself off on me. Being taken by two girls like this was out of this world and I could sense myself beginning to really respond to their love-making, hardening to their call and preparing me to disgorge my cum deep into Dana’s womb.

Hannah came first with one of her familiar, strong ejaculations, soaking me all over my mouth and nose and leaving me revelling, again, in her love juice; her expression of control over me. I felt Dana coming and responded myself as Hannah’s scented honey did its trick and my mind was ready to go.

I could tell that it was my turn soon.

My body wanted to arch itself, each muscle tightening to enable me to release into Dana. I deeply inhaled Hanna’s exciting scent, licking her furiously to keep her on her high, and when my orgasm came, it was with a power like I had never experienced. It started out deep inside me, almost in my ass, and spread in like an electric shock right up to the tips of my fingers. It was like I was on fire and every bit of me was wrapped in warmth and pleasure.

My cum erupted in a pressurised torrent from my boy-clit, oozing its white liquor deep into Dana’s wet pussy. I just let myself go, into pleasuring my second only woman. Dana followed by letting out a scream of pure pleasure from what she was receiving from not only me, but our domme girlfriend.

The raw, unadulterated sex continued long into the night in all combinations being conducted by Hannah between us, two of us in the triangle, or involving all three of us. Finally it came to sleep, and Hannah decided to take Dana to her bed on the basis that I was staying on longer, and that I was both their sex-toy and number three in the relationship.

Both of them led through me to Hannah’s study and the futon-sofa was duly rolled out to serve as my rest-place.

They dressed me, in my long, silken nightie with a pair of Hannah’s soft, cream full briefs to encase me. They lay me down on the bed and proceeded to tie my wrists together and then the cord was secured to the sofa frame to secure me. In the same manner, my feet were bound and tied to the underside of the roll-out frame so that I was incapable of getting out of my trussed situation and disturb them. The sensation I got from this was that I was very much Hannah’s slave girl being set up to be close but not present.

Their “pièce de resistance,” though, was taking the panties that Hannah had been wearing during the day, turning them inside out and inserting them into my mouth, followed by Dana’s panties being put over my nose and secured by a stocking behind my neck. Finally, I was blindfolded by another pair of Hannah’s but turned back to front so I could not see out of the leg holes.

Effectively, I was immersed in the remnants of my lovers’ sensual emissions and was to lie there to the sound of them making love, once more, in a sixty-nine.

Eventually, somehow, despite listening to their passionate love-making and being constantly reminded how precious their love valleys were to me, sleep took over.

I was truly gone.

Chapter Four

Our Trip to the South of France

Life continued on with long weekends when I could get away to London, inter-dispersed with the occasional sleep-over if visiting the City for work purposes.

Hannah subjugated me more and more into the role of her subservient boy-gurl. A role that I must say that I was generally comfortable and happy in, though there were the occasional moments of humiliation and wondering why she wanted me to do something. Generally, these involved being outside in public and she wasn’t amiss of a sharp verbal admonishment, accompanied by a slap across my bottom. She said that it was all about learning to trust her totally.

Also, I was happy to see her being sexually creative, excited and enriched, along as with sharing a lot of interests in the vanilla world. Dana appeared from time to time to add more options to our love-making and she even took to sending her used panties onto me in the post, especially ahead of meeting up with us.

When all together, I enjoyed sessions involving being relegated to the study bed, to be bound in and blindfolded in some format by the girls and then to listen to them enjoying each other, while my senses were bombarded with their intimate aromas.

Hannah had picked up on my enjoyment and also would use such ‘times’ to tease me pre-sex or in between love-making activities. She subjected me to a variety of her panties and her emissions from heavily cummed-in ones, to ones soaked in her pee, heavily stained with skid-marks or even some of her menstruation fluids. I learnt to take them all and recognise her distinct scents.

Dana wasn’t her only girlfriend though she was her closest. She brought into play two others. There was Laura, another brunette, who was very curvy and appeared from time to time and Beata, a short black haired Polish girl, who had a very slender, almost boy-like body with a very flat chest but highlighted by lovely puffy-like brown nipples that would stand up pert and erect when excited. Beata was a fellow student at the University and she was one of the few Hannah had ‘clicked’ with. She was quite tall at over five feet, seven inches, green sparkling eyes and a perky, elfin-like nose.

It was with Dana and Beata, that Hannah took me to the next level of becoming her gurl.

Hannah came into some money from an old aunt who had recently died and she put most of it into savings but took a couple of thousand off the top, the “rounding off” as she called it.

She decided to us all to a short break, as one of the gifts to herself, and asked me if I could get a few days off work as she wanted us to go somewhere special with her girlfriends and it was a trip that her aunt would have approved of.

She made all the bookings for us.

It was an early summer morning when we set out for France, Hannah, Dana, Beata and I. We caught the train from Victoria and headed to the Dover, over to Paris, and then southwards on the long express haul south. Hannah had decided to have me go as a female, apparently at the insistence of Beata and with Dana’s backing. Therefore, we had set off with me dressed in a matching white bra and panties, a cream two-thirds, linen skirt along with a matching jacket, a fuchsia silk blouse with a soft collar, and then beige shoes.

As to clothing going with me, that was minimal as we were told that we wouldn’t be needing that much; there was a fair amount of lingerie, nighties and a couple of outfits, some cosmetics and little else. The other three were also carrying fairly small cases.

I was somewhat nervous about going through customs as a woman and I think Hannah was also somewhat twitchy about this.

I did express my reticence and reservations about this. Only to be sharply admonished that this was unreasonable and was going to happen anyway. And that this was for her.

I, of course, submitted.

In fact, there was only a cursory check of passports at both exit and entry customs and we were through and on our way. We breathed a large sigh of relief, and kisses all around that we had pulled this off as Hannah had insisted I was not allowed a single item of maleness other than my razor and cream. Indeed, my case was full of female clothing and lingerie, cosmetics, perfume and even depilatory cream, so if customs had opened it, it could have been very interesting and potentially humiliating.

We had brought some wine with us and got some glasses to celebrate being in the land of cuisine and sexual debauchery, the country that given the world the story of the Marquis de Sade and Emmanuelle. Four chattering girls in their own compartment heading towards the sun and some fun together, and only Hannah knew the nature of the fun and she wasn’t giving anything away.

We had a nice lunch in the dining car, given that it was train food, and continued our route to the Paris Gare du Nord station. It was early afternoon when we pulled alongside Quai-4 and, very quickly, we were traversing North and East Paris by taxi to the Gare de Lyons, a little east of La Bastille. Onto the express train southbound and we were soon heading quickly towards Lyon and the south-east as the speed of the locomotive picked up to over 120 miles per hour.

We continued on south past Lyon and we were starting to tire as the evening started to draw in. Conversation lagged and we all dosed my head on Hannah’s trousered lap, taking in her now familiar musky perfume. Dusk started to turn towards being night and we carried on through Montélimar, Avignon, and Aix-en-Provence. As we cleared Aix, Hannah started to perk up, getting more excited at what she had planned as the break for us, and what would our reaction be.

It was gone 9pm when we pulled into Fréjus. We unloaded and quickly caught a taxi and headed towards Draguignan and the lower foothills of the Provence Alps. We climbed and climbed up the hills and, some thirty minutes later, we arrived in front of these large imposing gates. Hannah got out and spoke to the intercom and the gates opened for us. I should say that Hannah spoke excellent French though mine was fairly good.

We drove up a long, wooded drive and pulled up in front of this large Provencal house which was well lit up for us. Exhausted we all got out and Madame came to the door. A nice looking, elegant blonde in her late thirties, she greeted us, hustling us inside to this lovely reception hall, all furnished in soft, beige and earth colours, marble floors, antique French furniture and subtle lighting. Large displays of lilies added their white and green hue, along with that familiar, strong, floral aroma.

“Which one of you is Hannah?” Our host’s English was very good.

“I am.” Hannah smiled at her and they kissed, French style, cheek to cheek.

“Welcome, Hannah, and welcome all of you. I am Sophie.”

We introduced each of ourselves.

“Do your girls know what treat you have given them, Hannah? Do you want to tell them?”

“No, you can, Sophie.”

“Well, welcome to ‘La Residence Anglaise’ girls. You are now in a hotel that specialises in BDSM.”

We looked at each other open-mouthed. I don’t know who was the first to smile and acknowledge where we were. Sophie continued,

“Yes, your time here, beginning tomorrow morning, will be spent with Hannah in charge of you, and you three as Hannah’s submissives, especially Dana and Clare as Beata will switch I am told. “We are well equipped as you will find that your bedrooms, apart from being very comfortable and adjoining each other, are set up for any restraint and play that you may wish to practice. We also have a large dungeon with lots of toys that may be used anywhere on the premises and even our garden is set up for play with restraint, punishment and dungeon areas.

“We are completely secluded and private here so you will not be disturbed and, other than any meals outs, you can wander round naked or in bondage gear.”

I think we were totally surprised by all of this and, for once, speechless. Now we understood why Hannah had suggested ‘minimal’ packing when it came to clothing. Sophie said that we must be hungry and that supper was laid on for us. However, beforehand, she showed us around the residence. It was furnished with exquisite taste and the public rooms were very comfortable, decorated in earth colours with large sofas, rich carpets on stone-flagged floors, lots of oil paintings and large table lamps to add colour to the base of the rooms. There were massive Provençal fireplaces in each room that acted as focal points. Two of these were lit with a small, welcoming fire.

The bedrooms matched the downstairs rooms in their attention to detail and comfort. Essentially we were housed in a large suite with its own living room, again very comfortably furnished but with hints of the bondage world evident. Large rings were fixed off the wall and there were chains hanging down from the ceilings, inviting us to play with them.

The bedrooms themselves each comprised a large double-king bed with wrought iron and brass frames, again with rings attached to facilitate play. In addition to the regular bedroom furniture, there were additional items such as various types of crosses and stands in each room. On each bed was laid out small leather corselets with our names indicated on them, except Hannah who had a full corset. Sophie said these would be our outfits for tomorrow.

The bathrooms were fabulous and, uniquely, also finished with glass baths and toilets, the idea being to allow no privacy to any submissive.

Downstairs to the lower cellar floor, we sighted the dungeon for the first time. This comprised of a room with different benches in it, loads of whips and floggers, and all sorts of equipment from vibrators, strap-ons and dildos to cuffs, spreaders and gags. There were also cages and a full dungeon, as well as baby, medical and a TV room. The lighting was cleverly set up to allow spot lights to be focused onto a play scene or to be full on, or dimmed down and dark, to set the mood required by the domme. We would discover more about this on the morrow.

We headed upstairs and into the dining room. A nice supper had been laid on, comprising of some salmon and trout, salads, and an apple “tarte tatin,” along with a choice of wine. It was more than welcome after the long trip south.

Sophie left us to it for the night, indicating that she would give us some ‘instructions’ in the morning at breakfast time. We supped well and then headed upstairs. From the way the corselets were laid out, tonight I was to sleep with Beata and Dana would be with Hannah. We went into our respective bedrooms and went to unpack, discovering even more ‘accessories,’ mainly dildos, restraints and cuffs, and even a couple of strap-ons in the drawers as well. Beata suggested that she would have fun with these.

It was not that long before we were stripped down to our panties, it was nice to be out of my travel clothes, and I was looking forward to a shower or bath. Hannah intervened though, calling me through to her room.

“Look what we have here, Clare, it’s a queening stool for oral servitude.”

She showed me this low padded box. There was a cut-away area where the person delivering “service” was to place their head onto a cushion; this was adjustable so as to get the right height to the receiver. Directly above, there was a padded seat for the receiver to sit on while the giver gave due oral pleasure to their domme.

“I have fancied having one of these for some while. Let’s give it a try right now. Go on, Clare, into position for me. Now”

I got down, turned over and placed my head on the cushion. Hannah peeled her cream coloured panties that she had worn all day slowly off and gave them to Beata with a comment that I should sleep in them. Hannah moved into position and lowered her bottom down onto the stool. I had a clear view of her love valley as it zoomed on me, and then her scent hit me, unwashed from the travelling and co-mingled with her familiar, emerging sexual odour.

I started to pay the homage that Hannah was due. I tried to bring my hands up slowly to play with her breasts and I shyly spread her open to my tongue, as I knew that the other two were watching us. As I did so, Hannah slapped me on my side and commanded,

“Lick my clit and keep your hands on your thighs.”

This I did and I rapidly moved my hands back down to my thighs and then, using only my tongue, began to lick her clit, teasing it out of her little, brownish, hooded home and taking it into my mouth, sucking and rolling it around so as to gently tease it. I moved it in and out of my mouth, pulling a little harder on it each time, feeling her respond with more of her-pre-cum which served to assist me in licking and stimulating her. I could feel her squirming on the seat, pressing my head closer to her as she lowered herself further onto me. I ran my tongue down her love-slit and slid it in to her entrance, thrusting it as far as I could deep inside of her. Meanwhile my nose acted as a small dildo, teasing her anus, bathing in her aroma and juices that were now flowing out of her cunt.

I felt Hannah’s muscles tighten around my tongue and I start to move it in and out of her, simulating a small cock and quickening with each thrust. I felt as if she almost was swallowing me up as her bottom pressed ever closer into me, her hips thrusting out to enable me further access and to bring herself off on me. As she came, she really pressed down hard onto me, releasing on to me and, as her juices oozed out of her, I lapped up each and every drop of her precious nectar, moaning softly and savouring her heady flavour.

Hannah moved off the stool and suggested Dana took her position. Like Hannah, Dana slowly took off her bikini briefs and handed them over to Beata with a suggestion to use them on me later. Perhaps that I should wear them all night.

She too lowered herself down onto the stool, proffering her now familiar, naked love areas for my oral pleasuring of her.

Dana also had a strong scent coming from her, following the day’s travelling on the train. I also could taste the first signs of her pre-cum mix into the overall cocktail. I focused on her perineum, knowing that to be an ultra-sensitive area for her, and ran my tongue up and down it before allowing my tongue to migrate northwards, over her pussy entrance and up her delicate, bare lips to her now prominent clitoris.

She responded positively to my gentle play and, similar to Hannah, started to press downwards onto me, seeking out her sexual tension and trigger to release her orgasm. I continued with my subjugation to her, now focusing solely on that delicious love-bud. Its little head was, now, more than engorged, as were her lips. Her cum was trickling out down her perineum and I could see cum bubbles coming to the surface to express her excitement and her want to hit her high notes. I felt Dana thrust downwards one more time, her anus burying itself deep onto my nose, and she came, her honey percolating into my mouth for me to enjoy her wonderful cream.

I now knew that I would also have to take Beata. Beata lowered her skirt and she was wearing pink panties, which I already knew from the train having had many intentional or unintentional up-skirt views of her knickers resting up there against her pussy. She lowered her panties, revealing that she too had waxed herself for this trip; on other visits to us, she had a neat, small and triangular, black bush that framed her pubis. Her labial lips were quite prominent and would have now been open to being multi-ringed, and her large clit nestled just under, ready to emerge at the slightest stimulation.

Beata slowly lowered herself like the other two, provocatively displaying herself to me, fingering her already damp pussy to me. Her small bottom came onto the seat and I had raised mine a little so that I would nestle into her haven. Her aroma was sweet and intense, and just like the other two, reflecting that she had been in the same underwear since the early hours of this morning.

As she hovered above me, I started by kissing along her sensitive inner thighs which were soon coated with a sticky sheen that exuded from above. I could smell and taste her excitement as she drew closer to my face. I extended my tongue and nuzzled the inside of her luscious lips and I knew one of the other two was running their fingers through her soft and silken hair.

Beata pressed her pussy down against my nose and gave it a teasing wriggle over me.

I heard her comment:

"Stop teasing and fuck me with your tongue!" she begged as I continued my kissing and lapping over her naked mound and this led to her shouting:

"Please, I need you, your tongue on my pussy!"

She was rapidly becoming one big collection of frazzled nerve endings, all aching for their release by me. Slowly and little by little, I worked a circuit with my tongue on her mound going down to the crease of her thigh under her anus and then up to her clit. I let my circuit become smaller and smaller until I focused on her fleshy outer lips. I still steered avoided my final target of her sensuous, inner lips, the very area I was confident would eventually afford to the girl the apogee of release.

Eventually I arrived with my tongue and nose to focus on her tender, inner petals. However, I continued my tease of Beata by just grazing her lips with light strokes of my tongue, playing the very edge of each lip. She was now very excited and keyed up and I used up time, pausing, and my non-action to taunt her further, to feel her pulse against my tongue.

She was gyrating on me, trying to find her trigger of release. Hannah and Dana were also taunting her, their slim and nimble hands and fingers lightly caressing her hair and breasts, making her further taut with expectation of her big moment.

Beata was now so wet and her vagina was opening up in front of me. I could see her cum leaking from her pussy lips and down over her inner cheeks. She tried to run her fingers across her mons, seeking to add further stimulation and sensation and then pressed down onto me, trying to absorb me into her, deep into her cunt.

I thought that she was going to scream, as her downward pressure on my tongue was so intense. She released that to allow me to breathe and that gave me an opportunity to give her a prolonged French kiss right onto her pussy entrance, just as if I was kissing her mouth. I pressed my tongue into her, splaying her swollen outer labia outwards as she responded to me by pushing onto my tongue.

I then latched onto the soft, pink flesh of her inner labia, licking and sucking them with total abandon. Beata started to cum with her pre-juices onto me, I knew she wasn’t far away from delivering. Her spasms were covering my face with her pussy juice and this encouraged me to continue exploring with deliberate, long and careful strokes of my tongue, picking up the intricate folds and seams of her inner, puffy, lips.

I flattened my tongue and swept up and down the length of her gash with broad strokes, opening her. Finally, I curled and narrowed my tongue to enjoy her cream, working it deep into her, exploring her tunnel, trying to reach her g-spot, and bringing her my fleshy dildo.

Beata came hard; a loud scream of “Yes” permeated the air, filling the suite with the noise of her ecstasy. I felt her cum spurt out of her and into my mouth and over my nose, bathing me in her total pleasure. I immediately knew that I was in for a long night, pleasing her, or Hannah and Dana, whatever Hannah wanted.

Beata sat on the stool, my face providing her gentle relief as her tremors continued on, adding even more pleasure for her. As she came off her high, she got up and helped me out of the stool, my face encrusted with the three girls cum. Hannah and Dana had already left the room to go to their bathroom and clean up before making love. We could hear them beginning to enjoy each other.

Beata took me by the hand and led me to the bathroom, and the shower. I removed my used clothing and lingerie; we jumped into the shower so as to enjoy the steaming hot water and wash off the excesses of both the travel and my oral servitude. We soaped each other up and washed down, our fingers serving to probe each other, slowly re-stimulating each other. I played with her little erect nipples and ran my fingers down her front to her smooth pubis, my hand pulling her bottom closely to me as she did the same to me, seeking out my now hard boy-clit.

“Hold yourself, Clare; I want to take you soon.”

She leant over and French-kissed me, her tongue entering my mouth to investigate it and softly tantalise me. Even though I was very much Hannah’s boy girl, Beata was very appealing to me, not just because she was a really nice, intelligent girl, but because of her boyish looks and slender body. I let her continue with her de facto domination of me, preparing myself to pleasure her this evening. This was obviously Hannah’s wish and I should respect that and do my best to satisfy her close friend.

We emerged from the shower, dried each other off or, rather, I dried Beata off, finishing by dropping to my knees and offering her my tongue to allow her to flat-fuck herself against me. She used me to get herself really moist on me, her dew once more seeping into me.

“Come on, Clare, onto the bed and on your front, bottom into the air.”

She lifted off the corselets off the bed and placed a couple of pillows down so that I would lie across them on what was to be my side.

I got into position and allowed her to attach a couple of leather wrist cuffs to me that she then secured them with chains onto the Napoleonic iron and brass bed frame. Beata retrieved her discarded panties and put those over me, a fetish of mine that she had learnt from Hannah. Her fragrance began to pervade my olfactory nerves, intensifying my want of her.

She went to one of the drawers and pulled out a double strap, which she had found earlier when we had got back to the room. She applied a little jelly to both cocks and got into the belt, gently easing cock into her now wet cunt. She adjusted the leather buckles so that everything was comfortable for her.

Onto the bed she climbed and up behind me, her hands wandering over my bottom, caressing my buttocks. Slowly I felt her fingers descend down over my perineum feeling my gurl-clitoris and then down to my anal bud. She applied a little more of the lubricant jelly and gently inserted her finger into me, opening me up, relaxing me and I responded to her finger play feeling warmth and ease at what she was about to do. Not even Hannah had ever done this to me. She slipped a second finger in me and I felt them, little by little, penetrate me further and wriggle around.

She skilfully allowed her fingers to relax before pushing a little further.

This felt so good and she was now pressurising my gurl g-spot, exciting me further and wanting her to enter me with her hard, veined cock. Beata pushed me forward and I took more of her strong, day’s scent into me. I felt her climbing onto my bottom and then my back and the tip of her artificial penis was touching my anus. She pushed and I responded to her, opening up for her and gyrating my bottom to receiver her into me.

She gradually and tenderly pushed into me, my love tunnel responding to her, allowing her into please both of us. She held herself still, allowing me easily to accept her, and then she started to fuck me with a slow stroke, and then the part-withdrawal. Again she pushed in and retreated and, in a leisurely manner, she gave me what I was seeking. I knew that it was pleasing her as I could feel her heavy breath on my back, her pert nipples pressing down into my taut flesh, and by her soft moaning as her end of the cock played its erotic and gratifying role within her pussy.

Beata increased her fuck rate, now focusing on her pleasure and not so much on me. She started to pound me and I felt her hips bucking into me as she plunged deeper into me, turning me on through my own nerve centre buried in there. I could feel my own “cum laude” rapidly approaching, and I could also sense that Beata was now very close to achieving her plateau. She pushed one more time and she groaned as her orgasm swept over her; this was too much for me and I felt myself unload, my brain numbing up as the pleasure ripples flooded me, duly tightening my body.

Beata collapsed onto me, exhausted with her efforts, satisfied with the gratification that she had managed to give herself and she lay on me for several minutes, both of us revelling in our contentment as we whispered small nothings to each other.

Eventually, she pulled out of me, released me and we prepared for bed.

We were both in our nighties and, in my case, Beata insisted that I obeyed Hannah’s instructions to wear Dana’s panties and also to “scent,” as she put it, my lover’s pair that Hannah had worn on the long journey down through France.

We quickly fell asleep, murmuring some small comments about the day to come.

Chapter Five

My First BDSM Training Begins

The morning sunlight came streaming in through the light, cotton-gauzed curtains. Beata was cuddled into my back, her arm over me and her hand on my panties. I felt her stirring. A shout of “Wakey” suddenly woke us both out of our dreamy state; Hannah was standing there in her robe. I looked over at the alarm clock and it was already 9.30am.

“Talk about sleepy birds here, Dana and I have already had one love making session this morning, and you two are still asleep. What were you doing, fucking until 3 a.m.?”

We groaned and went to roll over to grab another few minutes of nap time. Hannah seized the duvet and yanked it back to expose us, lying there in our white nighties.

“A nice sight, yes, but you two need to shower and get ready, not that you will need much clothing today. Remember to wear just the corselets and stockings. And, also just remember that I am very much your domme for our stay here. Don’t forget to take an enema either.”

“Yes, Hannah,” we chorused together.

It did not take that long to shower together, dry off, do our make-up and then put the corselet on along with the new stockings that accompanied it. These were effectively leather, boned waspies that ran up to the boobs and hugged the hips but which left the breasts and nether regions totally exposed. The corselets had rings hanging off the front and back, as well as the sides, to facilitate any bondage.

Hannah reappeared.

“Clare, I want you in these panties”

She handed me black tanga briefs that appeared to match the ribbing pattern of the waspie.

“And both of you, I want you to help each other on with these wrist and ankle cuffs.”

Hannah handed over four metal cuffs that were neoprene-rubber lined inside. Off each of these cuffs were two “D” rings and, certainly, we did not require any imagination about what was to happen to us. We helped each other in putting them on, locking the cuffs in with the small attached brass padlocks and we gave the keys back to Hannah. She disappeared again, but only for a few seconds, to re-enter our bedroom with Dana. Dana was similarly dressed to us, but had a matching collar around her neck.

The thing that amazed us, though, was the picture that Hannah presented. She had removed her robe and was now standing there in a full length, soft, boned, leather corset. Her breasts were partly exposed inside the corset, excitingly so, by their pert dark-brown nipples already erect, probably having been just stimulated by Dana. The corset extended down into six suspender garters, holding up black stockings, and she was wearing a matching leather thong that was split in the crotch, prominently displaying her beautiful, naked pussy to us.

“Bow your heads, both of you.”

She slipped matching collars to Dana’s around both of us and, using small padlocks, she locked us in them.

“Ok, shoes on and we are off down to breakfast.”

Hannah took three long chains with rubber handles and hooked one on to each of us and with that we duly left the bedroom suite and headed downstairs - with Hannah leading us.

We passed down the airy corridor and hall and into the dining room, the room in which we had supper the night before. The sunlight streamed in and made the room very warm and welcoming. Laid out on the table was a most impressive continental breakfast, with welcoming, large pots of coffee or hot chocolate or chilled jugs of various juices. Hannah led us each to a chair and fixed each chain to a ring on the seat-frame. She dropped down to her knees and attached our ankle cuffs to the small chains screwed to the chair legs. This had the effect of forcing apart our crotches.

We started to enjoy the breakfast and our surroundings. The room was beautifully furnished with two sofas, a sideboard, lots of paintings and a massive collection of Provençal dishes and plates that, even on the gloomiest winter day, would evoke herb-scented Mediterranean sunshine with their warm glazes and familiar rusticity. There were large flower displays to complement the ceramics, and a small, log fire burning in the large hearth. The view out of the window showed a substantial garden falling away into the distant woods in one direction and, in the other, we could just make out the shimmering azure-blue waters of the Mediterranean.

Sophie, our hostess, entered the breakfast room. She was wearing a leather outfit identical to Hannah’s, her large breasts more prominently exposed than Hannah, finished with wide, defined aureoles and pink-purple nipples.

“Bonjour Girls, I hope you slept well. I will speak in French if you don’t mind.”

She gave us a brief history of the house and how we were nicely isolated in over fifty thousand square metres of garden and woods, and that the entrances to the house were designed to separate away deliveries from guests. We were in very private and secluded surroundings and could dress accordingly, in whatever fetish wear we chose, or we could walk around completely naked.

It was our choice, or rather Hannah’s.

Sophie explained the basics of the house as to laundry, meals and drinks and, in fact, all arrangements seemed to be very relaxed and designed to maximise our “play time.” Hannah had already set up an extensive programme with Sophie and, as we understood, this even included briefing notes about each of us.

She went onto outline the use of equipment with some basic safety information and suggested we took on two distinctive ‘caution’ words, as we were inexperienced in this activity. One was to indicate that we were seriously uncomfortable and to give our domme lead the opportunity to decide whether to continue, stop, or lessen the intensity of what we were undergoing, and the second was a “panic” alarm to cease straight away if we were truly suffering, or in pain that could cause damage. For some unknown reason, we chose “testicles” and “pompiers.” Even though Dana and Beata spoke pretty good French, they had not come across the slang of “faire le pompier,” in English literally meaning a blow-job.

Sophie reverted back to English,

“I am here to coach Hannah in furthering her domme interests and yourselves, as submissives. As you set out on this road of great reward in terms of sexual pleasure and life at large. What little I have learnt of you from Hannah and seen of you already, is that I can see Hannah’s natural dominance; that Beata is switch and Dana is a natural submissive. As to Clare, she will always need feminine domination in her life and a powerful partner. Indeed, she may be a candidate for sexual traversée, how do you say a “un travesti ou, peut être une transexuelle.”

We smiled. Hannah and I supped our coffee. Sophie continued on,

“We are here to introduce you to aspects of BDSM and to do some exploring of your submission, restraint and limits of pain, and the pleasure that you derive from it. For Hannah, it will be about administering it and, as she already knows, as she is an intelligent “femme,” it is more about domination through “psychologie” and being “subtil” rather than the use of force. Not that she will forget punishment for you if you are “mechante” here at La Residence or in the future.”

We giggled at this comment.

“I think that we should make a start right now and see how your oral skills are.”

Hannah now took control,

“Ok, I am going to release Clare and Beata, as Dana and I made love earlier or, rather, Dana pleasured me.

“Clare, you will get on your knees under the table and submit to me, as you know how, using just your tongue and nose and, to that end, I am locking your wrists behind your back for this just to make life a little more awkward for you.

She did that and also secured Beata in a similar manner, instructing her to also get on her knees and service “Madamoiselle Sophie.” Beata obeyed her and went under the table, Sophie opening her legs ready for Beata to remove her panties using only her mouth.

Poor Dana took the first experience of pain. Hannah undid her cuffs and got her to step into a pair of latex dildo panties to which she had applied a little lubricant. She pulled them up into position, the false cocks invading Dana’s love portals, filling her and obviously pleasing her. Hannah went to one of the drawers and pulled out a ball gag and secured it into her mouth, followed by attaching her ankles to the chair again.

Her next action was to take a chain with two small clips and place them on Dana’s brown nipples. Dana’s reaction was a sharp wince through her gag and her eyes reflected the pain that shot through her. Hannah fixed a second chain to the centre of Dana’s breast chain and the other end of the chandelier, forcing Dana to sit absolutely erect on her dildos, or the consequences of feeling her nipples being pulled.

With all this completed, she returned to her chair and sat down for me to approach on her bidding. She did offer me a little assistance by moving to the edge of her seat but the rest of the removal of her panties had to be done using just my mouth.

Eventually, I managed to lower them and set about my familiar routine of bringing her off by focusing on her cherry pit, teasing her along the sides of her mons pubis, down to her delicate frenum, and finally on the rosebud of her pleasurable undersides. Hannah responded to me by exuding her familiar pre-nectar, something that I had really grown to love. She pushed forward so as to get more pressure from my nose and tongue and it wasn’t long before she ejaculated over my face.

Hannah did not wait long and she quickly led me out of the breakfast room and downstairs to the cellar. We came to a stop in front of a cross structure and she had me spin around and secured me to the cross by my wrists and neck collar. Hannah then gagged me with a ball-gag similar to the one that she had given Dana.

She disappeared for a couple of minutes and came back with sealed bags; out of one of them she pulled a pair of black panties.

“I wore these for two days for you in preparation for this trip, Clare, I want you to think long and hard about being here and really becoming my sexual toy. This is important for our future.”

She put them over me, my nose buried in her heavenly gusset, and she tightened them on to me before putting a fly-like effect eye-cover on; this partially restricted my vision. I was left there by myself and every time I inhaled through my nose, I knew that I was taking Hannah into me.

Hannah appeared with Dana and she too was duly restrained in a similar manner to me but, this time, off a St. Andrews Cross.

Like me, she was made to sniff a pair of panties.

Evidently, these were Beata’s and they had been stored in the second sealed bag and, again the same as me, she was enclosed in the same type of vision-limiting fly-mask that I was wearing. However, we could make each other out across the room. Between us was a dark grey, padded leather bench with plenty of attachments and rings off it. Now, this bench was making me somewhat uncomfortable and nervous as I knew exactly what it was for and punishment was something I had never really experienced.

Sophie, who had put her on a chain, led in Beata; she had also been blindfolded. Sophie pushed her down onto the bench, pulling her arms down and fixing her wrists to the bottom of the frame. Her legs were similarly secured and Sophie then ran a strap from one side of her corselet, under the bench, and up the other side to attach it to the opposite side of the waspie. She put two similar straps around Beata’s thighs so she was truly locked down onto the padded cushion.

Hannah moved to the top of the bench where Beata’s head was and pressed her cunt home in onto Beata’s face, seeking her tongue. As Hannah did this and was taking some pre-enjoyment in her dominance of Beata, Sophie walked across to a rack and chose a thin crop with a soft, brown, leather tag.

“Now Hannah, what we want to do is to get the sub here to jolt forward on each spank. Not too hard at first and I am going to use the tag and the tip to begin with, alternated with the occasional jolt. Comprenez? Ok, watch.”

Sophie began to flex the crop, lightly flicking at Beata’s globes, the leather tip whistling in to leave a tiny mark to remind her of what was happening and that she was in the two women’s control now. Suddenly, in came a crack as Sophie put strength into the swish and letting the crop to hit her further down the bottom. This brought a small welt to the surface of her skin. This was what I was fearing, the pain and the marking.

On the delivery of this crack as it found its landing place, Beata’s head shot forward to bury herself deeper into Hannah’s mound, Hannah pushing forward to let Beata naturally frot her with the motion. Sophie repeated the process, gently flicking her whip, toying with Beata’s lovely bottom, carefully positioning her swishes. And, then, in would come the sharper blow to jolt her again, to make her yelp and, ultimately, subjugate her to inadvertently pleasuring Hannah’s pussy.

Over and over this was repeated, the cries were getting louder, and Hannah was evidently enjoying this by the way that she was gripping and using Beata’s head to please her. The smell of women’s sex started to fill the room and, indeed, being able to part witness this, while enjoying my Hannah’s scent, was seriously turning me on. I wondered if Dana was getting the same sensations of curiosity and fear as I was, and how she was enjoying Beata’s scent.

The sexual tension continued to increase and so did the skill and ferocity of Sophie’s whipping.

Just at the point that she thought that Beata was going to orgasm, she ceased her strokes and lovingly caressed her bottom, her fingers running down her crack, over her perineum and down to Beata’s love grotto. She lingered in there, softly probing Beata, bringing her to the cusp of a mighty orgasm. She withdrew her fingers and tasted her victim’s honey, only to reinsert two fingers this time into Beata. We could see an exquisite, torturous fingering of Beata’s pussy and a second withdrawal for Sophie to present her fingers erotically to Hannah to savour her friend’s stickiness.

Hannah, too, was close to cumming as well with the effect of Beata’s passionate, frenzied tongue and mouth action on her. Both girls were emanating a small amount of cum which was sensually falling onto the floor, glistening in the bright spotlights focused on this scene.

Sophie lifted out a decent sized cock strap from under the bench and quickly got into it, tightening the buckles so that it was tight to her pussy. One more caressing of her victim’s reddened and marked bottom and a fingering of Beata’s sopping cunt, Sophie entered her, Beata gasping with pleasure as she was filled. As Sophie started physically to fuck her, it spurred her onto taking Hannah orally; she was almost rabid in her quest to satisfy Hanna, her head bucking up and down as she played and teased Hannah.

All three girls came virtually together, Beata crying out and squirting strongly as Sophie drove into her, Hannah revelling in her oral heaven and Sophie, I guess from the cumulative masturbation on her pussy from her strap movements from taking Beata, was also joining them in seventh heaven. I was almost coming at these sights and the aroma that Hannah’s panties gusset was sending into my brain, and I am sure Dana was finding it erotic too.

Beata was removed from her bondage and helped off the bench. Hannah put a pair of panties over her head, which I understood were mine, and then covered her with a hood. Sophie inserted two plugs into her, helped her into a leather thong so as to hold them in her and led her over to a cage, where she chained her in, the chains coming off the corselet and her neck collar.

Hannah and Beata retired from the dungeon leaving Beata to nurse her sore bottom and Dana and I to contemplate what would shortly happen to us in some form. The lights were dimmed right down so it appeared dark, certainly to Dana and me, through our masks. This just served to intensify Hannah’s intimate aromas as they continued to pervade my senses.

My brain seemed to be running faster and faster, thoughts flooding in on how Sophie or Hannah would handle me when they came back, the pain that would be involved and whether Hannah would take me with a strap-cock. I had enjoyed the sensations associated with Beata taking me last night with the strap cock and craved to have Hannah take me like that and make me truly hers, having only taken me with vibrators and dildos in the past. But at what cost? I was truly nervous about this and almost wanting to back out.

The two women appeared some thirty to forty-five minutes later, they moved around the drawers and seem to modify the bench, as well as pulling up a second similarly designed bench. Finally the spotlights came on, again focused on the benches. Hannah said,

“I want you out here, Clare.”

Here was the moment and the trepidation flooded in. Sophie released me and led me forward to the bench. Hannah had adjusted it for what she wanted in that its “bottom” pad was considerably elevated, obviously to push my bottom high into the air and give her plenty of “swing” room.

“Firstly, I want you in these.”

Out of a bag, she produced a black bra and what turned out to be silicon falsies. I was later to learn that she had sourced these from a specialist chemist in London who handled mastectomy patients.

In front of all the girls, Hannah took some medical glue and applied it to the back of the forms and carefully pressed them into position on my chest, holding them so as to dry, and affixing them to me.

The weight of the falsies surprised me and almost pulled me forward. I put the bra on, cups to the back, doing the clasp up and then rotating it into position before sliding my arms in through the straps. I noticed that she had chosen a “C” cup for me, not too big to be all dominant on my body, but larger than Hannah’s, bigger than Beata’s but smaller than Dana’s. On each breast there was a slightly protruding, brown nipple.

“You are going to wear these whether you like it or not, Clare, until you are due to go to back to work. The only way they will come off is by a special solvent, unless you wish to tear your chest skin.”

I stood there and became familiar with them. No, I wasn’t going to take them off. I had read about such prostheses but this was my first opportunity really to try them out. It was almost like breaking another aspect of my virginity and something that Hannah obviously wanted, so why would I not respect her wishes. Indeed, this act of generosity overwhelmed my fear of being beaten. How could I not submit to Hannah and let her take me to the next level of commitment and trust to her?

“I haven’t finished, Clare.”

She went into the bag one more time and produced these flesh-coloured latex-like panties.

“I have got you a vaginal gaffe here, Clare. If you are to be my submissive, I want you as feminine as I can make you. It fits in with my girl-to-girl wishes as you can, no doubt, comprehend along with the other benefits that you can offer me and the girls here from time to time.”

The gaffe was, indeed, pretty realistic. It was constructed of high quality latex and was built like a thong with thin straps to sit on my hips. The under bottom strap had a ring inserted to allow access to my anus, or vice-versa for toilet functions. As to my gurl-clit, there was a tube to accommodate that and it allowed me to pee or cum through the end, with the opening being positioned close to a real urethra. The pussy was well sculptured showing detailed labial lips, both majora and minora, and there was a pussy entrance and second tube to allow the insertion of a cock or dildo.

“You will have to thank Sophie for sourcing it, Clare. She knew whom to go to in Switzerland for this.”

I turned to Sophie and gave her a kiss and said, “Thank you, Madamoiselle Sophie.”

“Let’s have you be wearing this now and have a look of you, my little feminine sub.”

I slipped it on, carefully handling it, and pulled it up roughly into position, before inserting my “clit” into the tube, and then a final pull up as if I was wearing panties.”

“Your boobs are completely ok in the swimming pool or a bath or under a shower. The gaffe you should wash out thoroughly a couple of times a day.”

Here I was, looking quite feminine and what an introduction to a fuller transvestism this was, “transforming” myself not only in front of my girlfriend but with three other women present, even if they were recent friends of different time-spans. Although it could have been highly humiliating, it was almost like an expression of public commitment to now being in Hannah’s servitude.

Hannah knew this too,

“Clare, from now on when you are with me, I expect you to live as a woman given the time it takes you to transform or change back. Yes, you may be my girlfriend, but you know that you should obey me at all times and look to please me in the best manner that you can, and in pleasing me, you please my lovers and partners too, be they of either sex.”

“Yes, Madamoiselle Hannah.”

“I also expect that you will be a woman when with my family too. They will not be that surprised as they know about my bi-sexuality for a long time and, indeed, my aunt to whom I was close, would really have welcomed seeing you like this.”

“Ok, onto the bench with you. I want you to experience what you may expect if you fall out of line with me.”

Sophie pushed me forward and down on to the bench. Just like Dana, my wrists and ankles were secured off my cuffs onto the bottom of the frame and a waist strap was fixed to my waspie hooks, followed by the thigh straps that locked my body in. I could feel myself tightening up with the fear of what was to come. Sophie took a pair of yellow panties out of a bag and said,

“I understand that you are the one who has brought panties into play around here. I haven't done it before, but I am not going to say no to it. I could use such plays in the future. Hannah told me about your fetish. Well, these ones I have prepared for you.”

She turned them inside out and I could see the outlines of her emissions and stains on the gusset. Indeed, they were heavy suggesting that they had been worn for some time. Sophie turned them back inside and covered my head with them, my nose being tightened into her gusset by her using an old stocking to fix them firmly at the back of my head.

Immediately, her strong aroma entered me; it was very different to that of Hannah’s being that much sweeter and with much “higher-notes,” to borrow the wine-tasting term. On the top end of the gusset, where her anus would have been pressing down, I could sense the more pungent, tarter notes of her anal excretions.

Of higher importance than Sophie’s intimate smells, I could also sense my bottom being totally exposed to whatever Hannah wished to do to me, and then my new breasts underneath me, squashing down into the leather pad but with an unfamiliar feel of elevating my chest up off the bench. It was not uncomfortable but a very different feeling. I lay there in anticipation of what was to come, almost as in the dentist’s dreading the forthcoming needle or drill.

Meanwhile, as I was waiting for Hannah’s retribution to begin, Sophie released Dana and positioned her onto a second bench right in front of me, her head facing towards me. Sophie placed a similar yellow, pair of panties to what I was wearing over Dana’s head too, again showing her the contents of the gusset and what she was to enjoy. We were both left looking at each other through Sophie’s panties leg holes, ingesting the pleasant perfumes exuding out of them, contemplating what was to happen to us.

Both women went to the whip-rack and chose similar short canes and floggers, the floggers were a French ‘Marmite’ type with long handles and ribbons. These were made out of deer hide but, inserted into the tails, were small brass rivets to give an extra impact on landing on the skin. Now I never had been beaten, having managed to avoid that ignominy during my schooldays, even though the cane was a standard punishment and also delivered by school prefects as well as the Housemasters and Headmaster. I reflected on what was to come, rather like a naughty young teenager.

Sophie stood behind Dana and Hannah behind me. They started with some general swishing that didn’t really hurt as the “lashes” landed from her. I was just thinking that Hannah was being kind to me when her first hard lash came in, waking me up out of my false sense of security. Then pain crackled through me, forcing me deep into Sophie’s panties as I gasped for air. I could see Dana suffering too.

Hannah reverted back to the light swishing again and I knew that she had been watching and learning from Sophie. And taken the lesson on well. A second heavier crack that seemed to sting more than the first one, and another lunge forward for me into the soft, scented fabric of the gusset.

This really hurt.

And it was then back again to the gentle swoosh and feathery play over my bottom; I was now starting to fear the next heavy crack. I was stinging a little from the first two deliveries and my bottom felt it was on fire. Even the lighter swishes were having their cumulative effect on me in building up the “radiation-like” heat in my bum.

I looked across at Dana and she was very red in the face, indeed almost teary. I could go this route too if she started crying. I could see Sophie working in rhythm with Hannah with their lashing of us. The two dommes continued on with this flogging for some ten or fifteen minutes or it certainly felt that way. I was finding that the pain was now co-mingling, my bottom was truly hot and red, with an almost chilli-like pain coming through and then topped by the acute stinging coming from the welts of the flogger. In that time, they walloped us with, I think, six to eight major strokes.

We were allowed only the slightest respite as they switched from the floggers to the canes. With some considerable force, Hannah whacked me, deliberate strokes positioned horizontally down the bottom. When I saw the marks afterwards, they were so evenly spaced that I thought she had been having special training or practice. These hurt in a different way, a sullen ache ran down the stripe, however it added a third dimension to the overall soreness of our nether regions. Once the fourth stroke was over, however, Hannah applied salve to my bottom and massaged it in with the palm of her hand while Sophie was doing the same to Dana.

I smiled at Dana; this felt good and so relaxing after what we had just endured. Hannah’s fingers wandered towards my anus and perineum area. They lingered there, gently feeling me and starting to open me up. I responded to Hannah as much as I could in trying to wiggle onto her digit. She took some lubricant and re-entered me, probing as deep as she could, before inserting another finger. I relaxed and let her pleasure me.

Hannah withdrew her fingers and went to get into another strap, as Sophie had taken the strap she had used on Beata and she was now behind Dana taking her. Hannah put on this new strap with a nicely shaped, curved cock on it, as well as one that went inside her. She came up behind me and, quickly, she was into me, fucking me. I could feel her “bounce,” across my heated bottom as she took me.

From time to time, I could feel her breath and boobs on my back; it just felt good to being used like this by her.

My own excitement was growing, intensified by the smell of Sophie in my nose. I could feel myself hardening in my vaginal tube as my brain responded to this love making. Hannah was increasing her pace as she too was becoming highly aroused. I could feel her wetness emerging as it seeped down onto my perineum and I knew that she was excited by her breathing rate and little moans of satisfaction that were running through her.

She leaned forward, her hard nipples on my back, and started to buck at a fast rate into me so as to bring herself off. Her big “o” arrived as she issued a small scream of ecstasy and I could feel her juddering on me, her hard cock doing its work in bringing me to climax, shooting my cum down its little tube into my own pussy.

Hannah slumped forward in me, her after-shocks trembling through her as we came down and she whispered in my ear:

“You are truly mine now, my boy-gurl. I love you.”

Chapter Six

The French Sejour Continues

The five of us eventually cleaned ourselves up - it was a very odd sensation to sit on the “throne” and urinate for the first time as a woman.

Despite still being semi-naked, we went upstairs for a lunch of gazpacho, chicken fricassee with green beans, a lovely salad, local artisan cheeses including Roquefort, Rouleau goats cheese and a Banon, washed down with a very pleasant Fixin burgundy wine.

The meal was finished with a light lemon mousse.

How Dana and Beata could have sat through it on their marked bottoms I did not know, as mine was, indeed, very tender.

Conversation was light and with no references to what had happened or what was planned; though Sophie shared some of her history with us and how she had got interested in the scene through her ex-husband.

She had decided to set up the hotel, having recognised a gap in the market for a comfortable, private establishment offering good food, rooms and facilities, as well as a beautiful garden and as this was something we had not really explored we decided to take a walk around followed by a poolside siesta.

The garden was beautiful being very temperate Mediterranean in nature. The trees, mainly Umbrella Pines and Aleppo, but with some Oaks present, provided a cool shade. The gardens were splendid in their colour and scent, a mix of local wild flowers such as sunflowers, lavenders, hyacinths and poppies and then more formal areas with a wide variety of local roses, all of them serving to perfume the air. We noted a cage area positioned in the shade, effectively an outside dungeon facility with one room given over to a bench and trestles, as well as a cross. Sophie’s dedication to BDSM facilities extended to adapting various garden structures such as wrought iron porticos with bondage accessories, one of them being an elaborate arch over an old well.

Hannah slipped back inside the house and came out five minutes later, carrying the queening stool and in it, her book, some chains and locks, as well as two bit-gag harnesses and a strap on; she placed the stool down on the pale, sandy patio flagstones and then led Beata and Dana into the external dungeon.

Firstly, she had Beata put on the strap and, secondly, she attached their corselets to the chains. Soon, she had both of them in the gag harnesses and secured close together, with their hands bound and chained off the dungeon beam. Hannah had put them in such a position that Beata could enter Dana if she so wished.

Hannah came out of the dungeon and moved the queening stool out of the direct sun into the cooler shade, for even though she naturally bronzed, I did not, being fair-skinned. She then had me take the cushion off one of the sun-beds and lie down upon it, with my head inside the stool, readying myself for service, before stripping off her corset and stockings so that she was completely naked and sat down on the stool. Provocatively lowering her bottom onto me so that I could see all the details of her intimacy, including a slight hint of wetness already as she allowed me to take in her so-familiar sex smell.

“Clare, I warn you, I need a long session from you. Take it nice and easy.”

She dropped into her final sitting position, her pussy and anus open for my service and I began to caress her gently. She read her book and I quietly went about my way, slowly opening up her intimacies, and delighting in my pleasuring of her. She responded with little wiggles of her bottom from time to time.

After some thirty minutes of this servitude and with her nicely wet, Hannah lowered her book and commented:

“Mmmm, Clare, I love the feeling from your tongue and nose on me. Are you ok?”

“Yes, Hannah.”

“I would love to have you available to do this at any time. In fact, I would love to have you as my sub sex-slave all the time, to have you available to fuck, or fuck me, twenty four, seven. What do you think?”

“I sometimes think of that, I must admit.”

“How about making it reality?”

“Are you serious?”

Hannah got off the seat, slipped on a robe that she had brought down, and helped me up. We went for a walk around the garden, hand in hand, and with me still encrusted in her cum, able to taste her on me. We discussed the possibility of me moving to London. There were two options, firstly to see if my company would take me on in their offices there or, secondly, doing some research projects for Embassies - something Hannah had done and knew paid pretty well.

She mentioned that it would of, course, mean extending my time off from going to University and that one of the conditions should be to see if my place could be deferred by a year. With the grades that I had achieved, this wasn’t seen to be a major problem. Part of the argument that we developed was that I would be age appropriate for the course and with the benefit of the additional work experience to go into the course with.

There was also a financial benefit.

It would help qualify my “independence” as to attaining a maximum grant - that pre-Thatcher era being the time of high taxation and every one seeking various legitimate routes to avoid taxes or gain grants. As to my own family, the same arguments should also hold as well, as the possibility of saving money that otherwise would go on accommodation in Peterborough, though, laughingly, we said the incremental could be spent on sex toys and clothing.

She went on to stress that this entire plan” was not at all going to deny me a University place as, to her, the training of the mind intellectually was more important than the sex. One could argue that intellectual creativity could link through to sexual exploration but that this would be perhaps a spurious and controversial argument.

We discussed living together and this was more than just being submissive sexually to Hannah. However, she did outline that the submission was to be a full-time thing but that, she insisted, was the point. Though she also pointed out that we also had common interests to share and we would respect each other’s views.

Of course, I would take over some of the household chores as my notional contribution to the rent, such as being responsible for laundry and hand-washing of our intimates and lingerie, as well as anything to do with the toilet and pampering of Hannah. I would also assist her with certain aspects of her research work, with her guidance, to help develop my mind ahead of going to University.

If I wished to come out with my feminine profile to my family, she would, naturally, back me, however, she would respect a return to maleness in terms of external clothing when necessary for work purposes or with family and she would down-tone her dominance of me in such situations.

Hannah was bright and diplomatic, so I had no issue with her ability to do carry this out, as needed. The rest of the time with her, though, I generally would be expected to be in female wear and it was to be mandatory when it came to lingerie and sleep-wear. She mentioned that she would prefer me to grow my hair out some more and have it shaped; this was no issue being the years of youth wearing their hair very long and thick.

After covering a number of different smaller points and the modus operandi to make this all work we agreed that all of this seemed to be workable and that we ought to give it a really good chance to flourish.

Then, realising we had been gone nearly an hour and more, we wandered back to the patio so Hannah could release Beata and Dana.

When we got back Beata was in the process of taking Dana another time, her hips gyrating as Beata penetrated and withdrew from her pussy.

It was quite a sight to see the two of them chained up and managing to copulate intimately, despite their limitations with the chains restricting them. We watched as Dana was brought to a nice climax, her knees almost buckling from under her.

We entered the dungeon and released them from their restraints and Hannah gave them both a quick kiss. We all returned to the room and took off our corselets and returned to the patio in bikinis and swimsuits to enjoy the mid to late afternoon sunshine, along with a couple of cold bottles of one of the French traditional Chenin Blanc wines, a sec Vouvray. Hannah had lent me one of her costumes when we were packing before the trip. Then, as we enjoyed the wine and the sun, Hannah told the girls about what we planned to do on returning to London.

The news was greeted by hugs and kisses all around.

The afternoon lingered on and into early evening as we bathed in the warmth of the sun as it began its slow march down towards the horizon. The sea glittered in its rich marine azure colour beneath us, in the distance. We read or slept and Beata and Dana took a dip in the massive, refreshing pool. Eventually, we headed back to the suite to shower, to ensure that we were clean and, in my case, that my legs were smooth, and then to make-up and dress for going out. Hannah had decided to venture to one of the local restaurants in Draguignan.

Beata, Dana and I wore our corselets with hold-up grey stockings. We had no cuffs on now but we were not permitted by Hannah to remove our collars. Over the waspies, the three of us all wore summer dresses, as did Hannah, who was wearing a matching white bra and panties under her clothing. A last minute fixing of hair, perfume and a general admiration and we were on our way.

Sophie had laid on a chauffeured Mercedes that swept us down the drive and out onto the road. It wasn’t that far and within ten minutes we were in the small 11th century village of Châteaudouble dans le Var. The village clung like a limpet to the mountain and behind it there were major cliff and the Nartuby Gorge. The chauffeur dropped us on the edge of the village and we strolled up the cobbled streets past the local grocers, bakers, bar and shops to the Restaurant du Château.

This establishment was typical of Provence, a sun-drenched building and inside the strong warm colours often used in decoration of the houses. In this case, there were small rooms of warm shades of red, orange and creams, juxtapositioned against the narrow beams of the white washed ceiling, the flag-stoned floors and the Provençal style fireplaces. The tables were dark oak with wrought iron chairs, white cushions and tableware, and on each table there was a small forest of sparkling glassware, along with white candles.

We dined splendidly.

They prided themselves on using local produce and that was reflected in dishes like Mussels finished in Champagne and Saffron Cream, Scallops wrapped in Local Mountain Ham, Local Mushroom and Cepe Risotto, Local Duck Foie Gras with Onion Compote, and Rare Venison with a Poivrade Sauce. We were treated to a wonderful cheese plate including a local Croustillant of Chèvre in Thyme, and then various cherry and raspberry desserts.

With all this food, Hannah chose local wines with Monsieur’s guidance and we tried the Bellet Rolle white, with its high notes of honey, and Château Sainte Roseline for a red.

The atmosphere was warm and genial and we explored our plans with Beata and Dana. Several toasts to the future were made and, at the end, our host gave us large balloon glasses of complimentary Armagnac as a “digestif” to finish the meal with. We suspected that he did not that often get four young women in his restaurant, albeit one of them a marginal “pass,” and three of them wearing similar steel collars as their jewellery. However, we thought that this was probably a regular destination for La Résidence’s clientele.

We left the restaurant hand in hand and well sated, strolling back down the breathtakingly old streets to find the car, and then to return to La Résidence. That night saw Hannah and me making love, with Beata and Dana in the other bedroom. Hannah insisted on a long queening session before taking off my vaginal gaffe and then fucking me, before she finally climbed on me and mounted me. She controlled her rate of entry and then her fuck rate, using me as a toy to build to yet another climax.

The next day saw us back in our corselets and, in Hannah and Sophie’s case, their full corset along with their breasts and pussies exposed as before.

Breakfast was followed with another discipline session, split between the dungeon and outside. Poor Dana ended up being suspended above the well; her legs locked against the wrought iron arch and splayed either side of the well shaft and her wrists to the top of the arch. This left her open to some merciless sexual teasing of her by Hannah and Sophie who used vibrators and dildos on her incessantly, forcing her into several orgasms in that vulnerable position.

Beata and I ended up with more restraint and beating, this time off what Sophie termed as her stockade. In design, this was shaped like a low-level “H” bar. There were two of them laid out in a line so we faced each other. Our bodies lay along the central bar on an elevated, padded, narrow beam and our wrists and ankles were secured to the corners of the “H.” From the point where the bars intersected, there were two vertical poles coming off it. One was finished with a collar through which the neck went to be locked in and the other was an adjustable pole, both in the ability to change height and the length along the base, while, off the pole, a vibrator or dildo could be fixed so as to taunt the submissive victim.

It wasn’t uncomfortable being on this stock but the position we were in allowed Hannah and Sophie to easily beat us, then taunt us with vibrators and, lastly, strap us with their double-ended cocks.

This time, the acceptance of the flogging and the associated pain was that bit easier to take. I wasn’t quite offering my bottom up enthusiastically for such endurance and pain, yet.

Lunch was again an excellent repast of a bouillabaisse, salad, cheese, a raspberry dessert and a nice Sancerre white wine to accompany the food. A short siesta was then taken.

Hannah woke me from a nice afternoon slumber by gently kissing me, her tongue delving into and penetrating my mouth. We rose. She had me remove my corselet and gaffe and, strangely for her, to put a pair of cotton panties on that she normally wore for her period.

We went downstairs into the dungeon, leaving the other two still asleep.

Hannah led me through cell play-room and through to this door at the other end of the cell. She opened the door and we entered this room that was not unlike a doctor’s surgery. It was white tiled and white walled, contrasting completely with the dungeon next door. Around the room, I could mentally note were various apparatuses, medical equipment and accessories, as well a washbasin and taps, as well as a gynaecological chair.

There was a bed-like, height-adjustable, frame just about on the floor, only some six inches from it; this bed came with a thin yellow mattress covered in a cream, thin latex sheet. The low bed structure was mounted inside a shallow metal tray with a plug in it. Off the tray walls, there were various points for locking in and bondage of a “patient” and behind the mattress was a white metal bed-head. Hannah ordered me to lie down on it and I dutifully complied.

Quickly she went to work and I was strapped in, locking my wrists to the sides and my legs wide apart with a spreader.

Hannah, having removed my panties, then secured the spreader by chains to the bottom of the tray. She went to one of the drawers and came back with a latex hood and put my head into it, zipping me up behind. I had never worn anything like this before so this was a new experience and I wondered if I was about to start another expression and test of my devotion to her.

It must be said that the hood allowed me to breathe easily; it had open nostrils and an open mouth. However, my eyesight was partly obscured as, from inside, it was like looking through a black mesh, and it was a lot darker than the mask I had worn the day before when restrained for Beata’s flogging. She produced a pair of panties and covered my head with them, the gusset being put into its familiar position. The scent emanating from them was definitely hers.

Hannah raised the bed a little at my head end, so that I was now on a slight slope, then went over to near the wash-basin and pulled over this portable stand with a bag and tube system.

The bag was evidently filled with something and had been clamped off.

She put a little jelly on the tube and inserted it into my anus, pushing it softly home for some six inches, effectively into a depth so that it would not slip out. She unclamped the tube and I felt this warm fluid enter my rectum and seep slowly into me. She explained to me that the solution had been mixed with lemon juice so as to assist in the cleaning of me.

She asked me to take deliberate deep breaths and to squeeze my buttocks together as the liquid soaked into me, saying that this would help keep the fluid in me longer. It felt warm in there and I relaxed as the solution slowly filled me up.

With all the contents of the bag inside me, she clamped the bag off and slowly withdrew the tubing, asking me to hold on as long as possible to allow the cleaning to take effect. Some ten to fifteen minutes later, I felt the effects of the cleaning working and needed to release. Hannah told me to let it all go and my contents would flow straight into the tray and away down the drain.

Inhaling Hannah deeply into me, I pushed and released, the liquid rushing out of me and down the slope, though I couldn’t see it.

“Good girl, Clare,” I heard, “Now a second one.”

We repeated the process and Hannah finished it by pulling over a tube from the basin and washing the slope and my inner thighs down with warm water. She towelled off the latex and my legs and she was finished, leaving me there contemplating her erotic perfume.

I was left there for some twenty minutes or so reflecting on Hannah and her pussy. The room was warm and snug; however, I was largely in my own world because of the limited vision offered through the hood that was enveloping my head.

Then I sensed people entering the room and I made out Hannah and Sophie.

They were not dressed in their waspies but appeared to be in red latex outfits, again exposing their breasts and pussies. They led in what were evidently Beata and Dana, completely sealed in yellow latex body suits. I could make out it was them by their eyes showing through what looked like matching yellow gas masks. Their pussies were also covered with the same yellow latex in what looked like detachable panels. Sophie chained the two of them off my bed frame.

Hannah removed her panties from me and went to a drawer to produce a thin horrendous looking device, a stainless steel wired contraption known as an open-mouth gag. Hannah washed it first with hot water from the tap and then inserted it into my mouth in its closed position. She placed it behind my front teeth, and then slowly opened the ratchet, forcing my mouth wide open. When she was happy with the width I was offering, she locked in the ratchet so that my mouth would remain open. I felt totally humiliated by being in this position of extreme restraint and, though I had to say the mouth device was now quite comfortable, I couldn’t move an inch in the position she had secured me in.

Hannah went over to Beata and undid the studs on her panel that was covering her mound. I could see that she had a vibrator wedged in her cunt, as well as a butt plug tucked in behind. I presumed that Dana was undergoing similar stimulation. Sophie leant over and removed the vibrator that had been buzzing away inside Beata.

Sophie spoke curtly,

“Step forward, Beata, and squat over Clare’s mouth.”

Beata did as she was ordered and lowered herself into position, presenting her intimate erogenous zone to me and I immediately picked up Beata’s scent mixed in with the latex smell. She was fairly wet from the stimulus that she had been receiving, evident by the sheen of a white, filmy solution emanating from her orifice.

“Beata, when you are ready, pee over Clare.”

I had been half expecting this but it was still a mental jolt to think that this was about to happen. Thankfully, I didn’t have time to dwell on it as a golden drop of pee emerged from Beata’s vulva, just above her pussy entrance concealing the little location of her urethra. It was only a tracer-bullet, as it were though as, suddenly, she started to squirt the yellow water, spraying it over my face but using my mouth as a marker.

Her water flooded into me and I couldn’t expel it because of the mouth restraint. She was filling me up with her hot acrid, sharp liquid and forcing me to swallow her. The taste of her was invading my throat as I took her waste liquid in and, though I wanted to fight and move, I couldn’t because of my own limiting bondage.

Her water streamed down over my chin, my breasts and down my body, ending up in the tray beneath the mattress. The smell of Bea’s pee pervaded the air around me and I was completely bathed in her wetness. As she finished up, she sprayed more than aimed soaking my face, my hair and my upper body.

Hannah barked:

“Clean her up, Clare. Your face is to be her toilet paper.”

Beata squatted lower on to me; her butt plug almost nestled against my nose. I pushed out my tongue to offer it to her and she sat down on it. I slowly licked, picking up an exotic mix of her pee, cum and latex.

As I did this, her cum started to surface more strongly through the mix as she was very aroused. I could feel her butt plug vibrating away, sending its spasms of pleasure into her. The taste wasn’t as bad as I feared, though I could sense the familiar mildew aroma of her pee all over me.

When Beata started to come on me, Sophie ordered her to get off and she duly complied. Sophie was fairly aggressive and reinserted her vibrator with some force into her love cavity so that she could come off on it, while remaining chained to the bed during the session.

Dana was next up and she too went through a similar process. Orders were barked at her, her vibrator was removed and she too lowered herself into a squatting position as if she was toileting outside in the fresh air. Her familiar pale, naked pussy was above me and, like with Beata, I could pick up on her recognisable juices mixed with the latex, rubbery aroma.

Dana held herself on her haunches above me, giving me a long, clear view of her cherished lips, open and wet with the sexual provocation that they had been undergoing.

Then her pee came.

It wasn’t like Beata’s that started with a tempting drop and built up its velocity, this was hard on as she literally streamed it out with an accurate aim, right down my throat. Rapidly, I was forced to swallow her natural brook and then swallow it again and again as she filled me up. Her taste wasn’t as sweet as Beata’s, in fact it was much saltier and concentrated in flavour. Her accuracy was such that most of her went into me, or down my front and avoided my eyes and hair, that was still soaked in Beata’s water.

As she finished, Hannah reminded me that I was now Dana’s toilet paper and to clean her up. She sat down on me and I let my tongue do its work. As she too approached orgasm, she was ordered off me and then re-plugged and sealed back into her latex suit.

Sophie moved forward now, was I to take all four women in this manner? She swivelled herself over me, standing there and presenting me her cunt for my careful inspection. I heard her voice above me,

“Clare, “Hold on, it’s coming, my champagne will bathe you."

Her fingers rustled over her mons, pressing on her lower belly, helping the process along.

"Just a moment," she said and lowered herself downwards into a half squat stance.

"Mon Dieu. Here it comes. Here it is. Es tu prêt?"

I craned my neck upwards, inhaling, trying to take in her smell before it came out of her. She and Hannah had not been wearing latex around their pussies and, as a result, there was a more natural, familiar perfume to her. Sophie made a sound that seemed to mix her excitement with an almost anguished relief - I was to find out later that they had drunk copious amounts of water when Hannah was securing me to the bed. This, of course, in addition to the drink they had at lunchtime.

Now Sophie’s water started to come, splashing into my hair, rivulets of it running down my cheeks and flowing into my mouth and hence my throat; the smell of her piss sharp in my nose.

Here I was, the receptacle of her body’s waste fluids, a receptacle, nothing more, just like the glass toilet in our bathrooms.

"Is that nice?"

Her voice was throaty and hinted at her dominance.

"Are you my little piss-gurl then? Are you going to be Hannah’s piss gurl? I hope so."

Sophie’s flow was slowing now and she wiggled her bottom over me in a nice and sexy manner. I noted this for my own performance as it was perhaps the female equivalent of getting the last drops safely out. I extended my tongue upwards for her to wipe herself on it. She lowered herself further to bring me close in, burying my face in her pussy lips. These were swollen and fragrant, still trickling a little. I took in her remnants blissfully, the taste an acidic delight I knew I would never be able adequately to recall.

“Mais oui, Continuez.”

She ran her fingers over me and ground her hips deep into my face, using me as her personal dildo, bringing herself off on me, adding her cream to my urine-stained mouth. I thought that I still had Hannah to exert her dominance over me, or whether she would save this for later.

I was soaking now and my throat and tongue were exhausted from the onslaught that they had borne. Hannah wasn’t going to let me off easily though and she too got into a standing position over me, provocatively displaying herself to me, exciting me.

“Clare, the only sound I want to hear from you now is you begging me to piss all over you. I have saved all my piss since early this morning to give to you. Beg me for it."

I tried to utter a “Please..." and that was all I sort of got out before the salty and sweet taste of Hannah’s urine streamed out of her and entered my mouth. I wanted to gag at first, as it was everywhere. She aimed her flow into my hair and eyes, down over my face and over my chest and breast. She continued this Golden Shower for what must have been nearly two minutes, soaking me in her natural waste, marking me as hers.

Finishing up, she forced her pussy onto my mouth and kept it there until I had swallowed and cleaned up all her piss.

“That's a good girl. Now it is time for you to make me cum.”

She literally began to fuck my face. Harder and harder she pressed down on me, using my mouth and nose as her personal frotting machine. My tongue tried to do its “clean-up,” working over her pussy entrance, her urethra and down on her dark, tight skin that ran down to that other love hole that I adored. I heard her moaning in pleasure and I pushed my wet tongue upwards into her. She rode me hard and, when she came, she exploded in my mouth filling it to overflowing with her creamy ejaculate.

I smiled to myself, believing that I had pleased her. Even though she was still riding her climax, Hannah moved off my tongue, but only to go forward onto my crotch so as to insert my boy-clit inside her. The feel of her warm tight pussy around me was what I needed but, actually, it was all about her and her control over me.

Very quickly, I came inside her, my cum satisfying her as she peaked her second orgasm.

Sophie unchained Beata and Dana from the bed and led them off. Hannah came off her plateau and started to help me, firstly by washing me down with warm water and then helping me out of my bondage.

“Mmmm, Clare, well done, you. I am so proud of you and how you took that, especially with four of us involved in degrading you. I don’t know how your Ancient History is, but one of the major quasi-religious sects back in Roman and Greek times was the Cybelians. This was an organisation made up of dominant leader-figure woman, accompanied by transvestite shamans, and they struck a fair amount of fear into conventional authorities of the day. One of their tenets is that the woman must pee in her partner’s mouth at least once a day and is, indeed, one of the strongest of declarations of dominance I know.”

She smiled at me and helped me onto my feet.

“Submitting to this personal sacrament can only lead to greater intimacy and closeness between us and I intend doing this to you on a regular basis. I hope that you like the taste of my pee.”

We both went upstairs to the suite and I showered to get the pee smell off me. Hannah watched me closely. Sophie, meanwhile, was off subjugating Beata and Dana in some form involving latex sex.

I was a little too tired even to ask but I heard later that Dana had been severely constrained in it, and had been taken involving breath control. She had got a massive high from this and it looked like we had found ourselves a latex covert.

Hannah changed into a bikini and I put on my navy blue swimsuit, a nicely lined one with a mesh effect, across my tummy, splitting the panties and bra parts. We headed downstairs with books and found a nice shaded part of the garden to relax. I gave Hannah a massage using our sun cream.

The girls emerged well over an hour later and brought out a couple of cold bottles of Muscadet with them, along with outdoor glasses. We spent the rest of the afternoon chatting and relaxing, talking about what we had enjoyed and not enjoyed so far.

The negatives, from each of our respective positions, were fairly few.

When I was asked, I admitted to my trepidation to the beatings but confessed they hadn’t been “too bad”, all things considered. The girls were surprised how I had taken to the session this afternoon, thinking that I would not be able to take four large quantities of pee into me. All of us ended up in the pool, a lovely, relaxing way to end the day.

Hannah had decided to have dinner in and we all returned to the suite to shower, to do clean ups including enemas, and for a clothes change. I ran a bath and the girls took a lot of interest in seeing me through its glass walls. Indeed, watching the others pee was fun, given what I had undergone. I wanted more, especially of Hannah’s.

We made up lightly and dressed very informally for dinner, just putting on white or cream bras and panties for lingerie, and, in Beata’s, case no bra. Over our lingerie, or lack of it, went summer dresses or lightweight skirts and blouses. We didn’t even wear any shoes. A little light jewellery, perfumes and we headed downstairs.

Sophie joined us for champagne, a vintage Moët, and she was staying for dinner. She was wearing a silk top and plain cream trousers. From the lounge, we entered the dining room to find it beautifully presented in white tableware and sparkling wine glasses, all set on the old oak dining table. The fire was burning nicely in the large hearth and the room was candlelit, except for highlight lights above several of the oil paintings.

Dinner was simple and full of flavours. From a starter, we dined on shrimps (les crevettes bleues) glazed, cooked and raw, served in sushi style, followed by a beautifully fresh John Dory fish with an eau de vie and chicory coulis, local cheeses and a delicious almond sponge cake with poached pear and a maple syrup sabayon. Apparently, the menu was designed around recipes from Roger Vergé, one of France’s great chefs, having his restaurant nearby at Mougins. We also got to enjoy some super wine in bottles of a Grand Cru Les Grenouilles, and a Pommard Premier Cru Les Rugiens-Bas for the cheese.

Coffee was taken in the lounge along with glasses of an Armagnac XO, something I shall always remember as it has been come a firm favourite. An expensive tipple for the young adults that we were, but a very nice treat.

Conversation was about our courses and backgrounds before moving onto a Question and Answer session with Sophie covering a range of questions over the scene, for example, Bastinado, Sapiosexuality (which appealed to Hannah) and Bukkakes. We were young and perhaps somewhat innocent; after all, information was not as readily as available as today.

I sat next to Hannah and her hands were nervously running over me, wanting to explore me. I knew what this meant. Sophie picked up on the signals and indicated that if we wished to head upstairs, she would “look after” Beata and Dana tonight. So, we duly made our excuses and retired, having kissed the girls goodnight.

Upstairs, we prepared the room by dimming the lights and lighting the fire and some large white candles. Hannah proposed a bath together so I ran the water and put an essence in to scent it, as well as lay out the queening stool as I thought that Hannah may wish to use this. Back into the bed room, she made me slowly undress her down to her white panties. I then stripped off and at Hannah’s command, took my vagina off. Hannah led me into the bathroom, turned around and took my head into her hands to kiss me, her tongue exploring deep into my throat. She told me to remove her panties with my teeth, which I did and them kissed her mound. She allowed me to suckle on her nipples, bringing them out to their erectness, building her own excitement that step further.

I then readied myself on the stool, my body on the thin mat that I had also laid out.

Hannah sat down and pushed her bottom back and down on me, and without needing a command, I focused my tongue on gratifying her, preparing her for her end-ecstasy. I ran my tongue over her now-puffy lips and then onto her clitoral button, gently kissing it, sucking it and rolling her between my lips.

She moved on the seat to allow me to do this and I could feel her relaxing, her shoulders and then her body slumping downwards on the seat, pressing harder onto me for even more pressure on her. Her pre-cum started to emerge, helping me in my pleasant task. I moved down off her now swollen clitoris and let my tongue pay homage to her pussy entrance.

Again I felt her move, this time to move onto my tongue and use it as a little pocket stimulator, as a mini-vibrator. She moved quickly up and down on me, literally frigging herself off on me. I just held my tongue stiff as possible and despite it starting to ache, I had to maintain it until she came.

She released herself and I felt her warm love distillate burst forth, covering my mouth and face, a small expression of her satisfaction. She sat there for a few minutes bathing in the warmth of self-gratification that had come over her.

Hannah got up from the stool and helped me up. She led me to the bath and we climbed into the glass tub. She sat in front of me and asked me to soap her down and give her a breast massage. I took the soap, lathered it up and started to let my hands wander over her back and then her front, finally concentrating on her breasts, teasing her small, brown nipples in my hand. Ten or fifteen minutes of this, she turned herself around towards me and sat there, her legs over mine pressing mine down. I carried on the soaping, this time doing her back again before re-soaping her front.

With this, she pressed forward into me, kissing me again deeply, taking control of me as she always did, her soapy breasts rubbing into my breast and her crotch up against me, and inevitably exciting me.

“Mmmm, I want to take you now, Clare. To the bed. You dry me off.”

We got out of the glass tub and I grabbed the bath-towels and offered her to step into a super-large, fluffy, white one. I wrapped her up in it and dried her down, finishing with her love area, my fingers gently running under her and back up to dry the crevice.

“I rather like this very personal bathroom service and I am going to enjoy this level of attention with you living with me and providing it on a daily basis.”

I dried off and we went through to the bedroom. She handed me a double-strap that she had set up with two decent-sized six inch cocks on either side of the harness belt.

“Help me into it, Clare.”

I held the harness open and she stepped into it. I slid it up her legs and then took her cock and gently helped her clamp onto it and watched as her luscious pussy slowly absorbed her silicon friend. She was again very wet, or was it a hangover to her previous climax. I tightened the belt so that she was set to take me.

“Onto the bed with you, face down and two pillows under your boy-clit. I want your bottom way up in the air for my access.”

I obeyed, spreading out and offering myself to her. She took a chained cuff and secured my right wrist and then came around the bed and locked me into the other.

“Now my panties, I know that you love my pussy-scent, and the more the better for you as you will crave worshipping me more.”

She locked me in to her white panties that she had been wearing to dinner and I could smell her pre-cummy discharge in them. Obviously, the conversations over the dinner table had quietly turned her on.

She climbed on the bed and came up behind me. She presented her cock-head to my anal ring and pushed onto me. Even though she was using no lubricant, I responded and slowly opened up to receive her.

“When you are living with me, I shall work on you to take nice, larger cocks.”

She pushed and step by step pushed into me, each pause allowing me to accommodate her. Then she began to fuck me and herself, slowly at first, but building me up as she frotted against my own g-spot. Hannah’s pace picked up and I felt myself being pushed forward into the inset of her panties, Hannah’s crust offering me her sensual bouquet.

She was now drilling hard into me and then she hit her high mountain as the earthquake of a substantial orgasm passed through her. One more major thrust deep into me, she slumped forward in me, her own hips riding against her cock, her kegel muscles gripping against it to wring every ounce of enjoyment from the penile object. I came too at the prospect of her collapsed on my back, enveloping me.

We stayed like this for some twenty minutes, revelling in each other.

Hannah climbed off me and released me and we readied ourselves for bed, wearing our nighties and myself in Hannah’s white panties. Hannah kissed me goodnight.

“Clare, go down the bed and sleep with your head close to my pussy. That’s where I want you to sleep from now on for the moment to build your reverence of me.”

My sleep that night was disturbed, the close proximity of my lover’s haven being the reason for this, and a general scent of her pussy pervading my nose. In the morning, she stirred and the first thing that she did was to move her thighs and clamp my head close into her so as to render her my oral vassalage.

Beata appeared as we were getting up and asked why we were being so lazy, it was almost mid-morning and they had already breakfasted and had gone back into another bondage session. Apparently, Sophie had taken them off to her quarters and really put them through the plays hoops and Dana was still being “punished” down in the dungeon. Beata said that she was pretty sore and turned around to show us her marks, inflicted by both Sophie and Dana, as well as in her pussy.

We finished our preparations; it was back into my gaffe, collar and cuffs, corselet and stockings and Hannah in her corset. We headed downstairs to get some coffee into us and a little breakfast. The black “serré” espresso was highly welcome to wake me up.

Hannah took out a chain and attached it to my collar. She led me downstairs and into the dungeon play-room. I was amazed at the sight that greeted me. Here was Dana in a semi horizontal position, suspended in the air with nothing supporting her, other than the chains from the roof.

Firstly, she had been gagged with a ball harness that partly masked her head. She was wearing heavy-duty, leather wrist and ankle cuffs and her wrists were secured behind her. Her hands were gripping a large leather wrap-around onto which the chain was fixed and went through to the inside of her cuffs where it was locked onto. The chain ran up to a large pulley that was hanging off a hook ring in the ceiling. Secondly, her ankles were locked together with a short spreader bar; this opened up her bottom cranny for any play.

From the centre of the spreader another chain had been suspended, connecting to a second ceiling-anchored pulley and from the pulleys themselves there were chains and a motor to adjust the height of suspension.

Dana was hanging at an angle so her breasts were above her waist. Her nipples had been clamped off with two small suction tubes with clamps, disgorging her nipples. Her lower legs were bent upwards. Her bottom was very heavily marked and it was obvious that she had undergone a variety of beatings overnight and this morning, as the marks were similar to those of our opening session with Sophie.

Meanwhile, Beata was suspended in a different manner. She was hanging down from this heavy 2 inch wood transom bar, her wrists and ankles were locked onto short chains and snap hooks and suspended to either end of the bar. This gave her the impression of being in a hung sitting position, but slightly tipped back. The advantage of this pose was that it opened her pussy right up to play and she had two sizeable vibrators lodged deeply in her. She was, like Dana, ball-gagged and nipple clamped.

Hannah led me over to Sophie, undoing my lead chain. As we came in, Sophie had been teasing Dana’s pussy with a small wand-like vibrator. She, in turn, stopped her teasing of Dana and led me over to a chain hanging down and told me to stand there. She attached a spreader between my ankle cuffs, forcing my legs apart. Then she took my arms and had me put them behind my back where she locked my wrist cuffs together. She took an industrial tape out and wrapped this around my wrists and then moved up to my elbows to bind them together.

Sophie brought the chain over and snapped it onto my collar, off the locking ring at the nape of my neck.

“Ok, Hannah, over to you.”

Hannah went to one of the drawers and pulled out a black penile head harness and brought it over to me. She inserted one cock into my mouth that was to act as the gag and then fastened the belt around the back of my head. The other five inch penis was hanging out of my mouth. Hannah then lubricated up a large butt plug with a small tube hanging off it and inserted it into my anus.

And then came the first feeling of being uncomfortable. Hannah attached a lightweight chain to the front collar ring and ran her fingers down the chain links where it split into two. One side chain was fixed to my left ankle and the other chain to my right one. The overall chain was so short that it forced me to stoop. She then took the chain and control hanging down from the ceiling, pressed a button and I felt my arms being elevated into the air. She stopped when I was on the balls of my ankles.

Her last action was to squeeze the tube hanging down from my bottom and I felt the plug expanding in me.

Sophie went back to Beata and was now standing in front of her, lightly pussy “whipping” her exposed mound with a small latex strand flogger. With it she had the choice of a heavy lash or just to stroke her with it and, being Sophie, she was mixing it up.

Hannah went over to Dana and dropped down to lick and enjoy her cunt. I was left contemplating my fate and it was a little uncomfortable as well.

As Hannah finished bringing Dana to a climax, she came back to me carrying a crop and I felt my butt plug inflate further inside me as she adjusted the squeezer once more.

Then she started the teasing of me with the crop leather tip.

It was followed by a sharp crack of it across my bottom.

Six blows rained in before she moved onto Beata and Sophie to Dana.

For the next hour or so, this triangular teasing and torture continued on and the pain of my trussing gradually intensified, coupled with the oddity of having my gurl love channel stretched. Things started to wrap up, I thought, as Hannah strapped up and took Beata to a massive orgasm while, at the same time, Sophie took Dana. Both girls were moaning loudly through their gags as they attained their long awaited relief.

Sophie came across from Dana to release Beata from her bondage and then helped her into the strap she had been wearing. With this, Beata went over to Dana and took her, poor old Dana was now nearly out from sexual and physical exhaustion that she had undergone.

Hannah had withdrawn from Beata and came across to me. She took a cane and added four more stripes to my reddened bottom. I winced as her blows rained in on me.

“Clare, this is what will happen to you if you disobey me. Remember this.”

She held my head in her hands and smiled at me.

“And remember this fucking from me as this is what will happen when you are a good girl and serve me well.”

She deflated my plug and went behind me and just slid home in my gaping anus, filling me with her sticky, wet from Beata, cock. Quickly she came, and so did I, ejaculating into my gaffe tube with the effect that my own cunt oozed white cum.

We wound down and were released from our bonds. What a sense of relief from being out of the suspension but at the same time a deep sexual satisfaction that had overcome the three of us. After a clean-up, we had a light salad lunch all together before enjoying a long relaxing afternoon around the pool, finishing with our now usual bottles of chilled white wine in the early evening sun.

It was our farewell last night dinner and Hannah had invited Sophie out with us.

We showered, made up and dressed up, discarding any sign of our BDSM experience except that we wore naturally. I put on a simple black cocktail dress, highlighted by a small strands of Hannah’s pearls and matching bangles . Hannah chose a cream blouse and a lightweight linen skirt in a natural jute colour. We spritzed with perfume and headed downstairs where Sophie met us, Bollinger champagne at hand and on the house. She had put on a beautiful Chanel black and white suit.

We headed out in the chauffeured Mercedes, northwards towards Moustiers Ste Marie, a small village tucked higher up into the mountains, the Provençal Alps.

The trip up was amazing as, in the sunset, the lengthening shadows and the fading sun lit the limestone landscape up with a yellow glow with fabulous contrasts of shadow darting across the gorges. In many ways, we could see how the countryside was harsh and exposed to the sun, small crops of olive trees and grasses holding onto rocks, the occasional poplar or pine tree standing erect, and where there were small fields where there was enough soil, the terrain cultivated for local produce such as aubergines, sweet red peppers, onions and fennel. Lavender was everywhere.

Our destination was one of Sophie’s recommendations, an old auberge known as La Bastide de Moustiers. A small hotel with a simple restaurant but one full of character and style, summed up in French as “le gout.” The restaurant housed four small rooms, whitewashed with panelled walls and, in the main room, a true Provençal antique, wooden hearth. Just like at Le Château, we dined off a wood table, decorated with blue and white tableware, wineglasses and candles. The fire was lit to keep out the slight nip in the air, and we were the only folk in the room, sitting at a corner table nearby.

The food was worth the trip; we settled for the house menu, starting with a chilled tomato soup made with local fruit, Brousse de Brebis (a local yoghurt type cheese) and almonds. This was followed by a roasted John Dory with asparagus, fennel and a gremolata. We then had the choice of a local pigeon with polenta and baby beetroots and turnips, or an Alpine lamb with fava beans, mousseron mushrooms and onions.

As the main course was completed and removed, Hannah turned to me and directed me to get under the table and to inspect and sniff their panties. I looked at her and she just stared back and said:

“Under the table. Now! And no licking.”

I obeyed and got down on my knees. Dana was first and she had on black, silky bikini panties. I sensed her aroma. I moved around and Sophie was next, she was wearing pink culottes and I picked up on her very sweet scent that I had smelt back on the first day. Then I moved to Beata with her sharper tang; she was wearing a blue thong that clearly showed up the outline of her pussy lips.

Finally, I made it to Hannah and lifted up her dress to find she was wearing cream, bikini panties that were already showing a damp spot at the base of her pussy entrance.

She pushed herself down on the chair and forward to sit and then frot herself on my nose. Her recognisable perfume infiltrated into me, arousing me and reinforcing my want of her.

She ordered me to get back to my seat. It was just in time as in came the restaurant staff with the cheese trolley. We were offered fresh, local soft goat and sheep cheeses made that day and served with lavender honey. As cheese finished, Sophie ordered Beata under the table and she had to repeat the task. She followed my lead in lingering over Sophie’s cunt this time.

This was followed by a tartlet of raspberries and rhubarb from their garden. Hannah and Sophie had chosen a Sancerre and a Gevrey-Chambertin for wines to accompany this wonderful “bouffe.” With coffees and liqueurs aboard, we headed back to the hotel for our last night. After one more round of Armagnac, we turned in. Sophie took Beata off to her quarters to fuck her and, apparently, to explore some vacuum pumping of her nipples and clit, something that Beata was interested in.

Hannah, Dana and I headed upstairs to our suite. Dana was “beaten” after her night before but, before she turned in, she ended up sitting on top of the stool as I gave her a little pleasure to help her to get to sleep. Hannah followed her and we ended up in bed like the night before, with me sleeping in the presence of Hannah’s pussy, there to service her, if and when she wanted.

There I was at 3 a.m. being woken up to please my beautiful and domme girlfriend.

It was no hardship; I already knew, after all, that she was someone I wanted to worship and dote upon.

Chapter Seven

Return to London

Next morning saw us up early, pack, have breakfast, settle up and say our “Au Revoirs” to Sophie.

She kissed us all and said how much that she enjoyed just having a women only party in the house and that she would more than welcome us back at any time.

We left in the Mercedes to get to the station in Fréjus and start the long haul northwards to Paris and onto London.

I was still dressed as a woman, more so now with my silicon breasts and gaffe on, wearing an olive green blouse, Hannah’s linen skirt, and cream pumps. Hannah had given me her underwear from yesterday evening to put on. The trip was pretty uneventful apart from Dana and I rendering oral pleasure on Beata and Hannah in the compartment we were in, with the blinds down.

Customs in France and England were again no issue and, just after 10pm, we arrived in London. By 10.30, Hannah and I were back in her apartment in Primrose Hill. A relaxed evening, what was left of it, and I returned to Peterborough next day with some sadness in my heart at being apart, but optimism as to the future.

The company I was working for were brilliant. It turned out that they had been thinking about asking me to work in London on some independent analytical work that I had been doing and, even better, were prepared to significantly up my monthly salary for the work and additional living expenses in the City, especially if I could work for a longer period. I also managed to get them to divert some of the money into a scholarship fund for University so that I avoided tax; it also kept them in touch as to any vacation work or rush projects that they may need down the line.

Hannah was thrilled too about this development and a month later, I moved down to London to be with her. Then my University accepted a year’s delay given the valuable work experience I would be gaining, along with being more age appropriate when I would eventually “go up.” My family also bought into this line of reasoning, so we were set to proceed.

I moved down just before my birthday, not that I had a huge amount of stuff to move. A rented van was sufficient. I arrived in Primrose Hill early afternoon and I admit to nervousness in parking up, this being caused in that I was committing myself in servitude as a transvestite submissive to Hannah, whatever form that would take.

Hannah greeted me with a long kiss and a big smile. We went inside and she produced a bottle of champagne to celebrate the event, along with a card titled:

“To Clare, to the first day of the rest of our lives.”

She had me immediately change out of my male wear, though I was, naturally, already wearing her panties, a heavily used pair that she had mailed me. I changed into a bra, dropped in my falsies, and then put on a plain white feminine long t-shirt and jeans that she lent me.

We went and unloaded the van; she had made space for me and, by early evening, I was all moved in; everything was packed away and put in its place.

Most of my male clothing went into storage, just keeping out what I needed professionally and if an unknown visitor, or my family, turned up.

Hannah pointed out that I could still remain in female wear for many of these possible meet-ups as, with a lot of well-chosen female items and clothing combinations, especially pants, polo necks and jumpers, they were so asexual in nature and unrecognisable. So, in most instances, I could still be immersed only in feminine garb, which apart from work, was Hannah’s chosen route.

One of our acts of “acceptance of the move-in” was that Hannah assembled all my male underwear and we went outside with it into the garden at the back of her apartment. She heaped it up in a pile so as to be burnt. She made me light the little bonfire and we stood back and watched it disappeared, before she kissed me.

We went and changed out of jeans and dressed up a little so that we could walk around to one of our favourite “cheapo” restaurants. We sat down in one of our favourite quiet corners and looked at the menus. We ordered our food and a bottle of red wine that was opened and served.

“I want you to sniff my panties, Clare, just as you did at La Bastide.”

Without looking, I obeyed her and dropped under the table and the tablecloth. I lifted her skirt and there in front of me was Hannah’s pussy enclosed in black lacy panties, lacy enough to reveal the top of her love area. I pushed my nose forward and she nudged herself to the edge of the bench, so my nose was entangled in the front of her pubis. Her smell was wonderfully strong.

“I have two or three nicely stained pairs to use on you, honey.”

I luxuriated in the aroma emanating from her; this indeed was why I was here. She was intoxicating, like a narcotic drug.

Hannah bade me to come up from under the table and whispered, “Later.”

Our food arrived and we started to eat, talking about the immediate future. As we moved through the meal, Hannah quizzed me:

“I have to ask you, Clare, you are fine with this, in terms of what we have achieved and how far I have brought you?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I had any doubts, Hannah.”

“Well, I do want to go further and reinforce that you are my submissive gurlfriend, my sexual slave. And from that, I will see how things develop.”

“What are you thinking of, Hannah”

“Aaah, if only you knew. But I will say I do want you to do more of things like helping me, for example personal body preparation such as bathing and washing, shaving my armpits, legs and my pussy, being my toilet and keeping me clean, being my menstruation girl, doing my nails, and all this in addition to things like my lingerie valet and doing more than your fair share of the day to day work around the apartment.”

I smiled and sipped my wine.

“You have shown an excellent start and it’s just an intensity thing now that we undergo, though, in time, there may be a test or two to take you further. I will also need your special attention to me for preparing me if Beata, Dana or whoever comes around or I, or we, go to their house. OK with that?”

I laughed,

“I think that was pretty clear before I moved in with you, Hannah.”

“As long as you are clear that I am your only worship and I come before you. You will venerate my body and your only function is to satisfy me and bring me to orgasm. Even though I enjoy having your gurl-clit inside me, it is only as a means to bringing me off. I shall always cum first and your orgasm isn’t even necessary sometimes. In fact, I may well look to deny you your pleasure so as to intensify it when I do let it happen.”

We carried on our chatter about my servitude to her but I couldn’t sense any idea of what her tests were about. I settled the bill and we wandered back to the apartment across the corner of Regent’s Park, hand-in-hand, stopping for Hannah to kiss me and to let her hand wander over my bottom and panties.

Back in the apartment, we got another glass of wine and slumped in the sofa. Hannah was all over me and evidently feeling turned on, her hands exploring my breasts and under my skirt. She opened her legs and had me kneel on the floor to put my head up against her pussy again and clamped me in her thighs. Her odour was really strong now as her dampness co-mingled with her past emissions and it then seeped through her already heavily-used, lacy panties. She kept me locked against her for over fifteen minutes absorbing her intense pheromone-laced perfume. I could feel her convulse a little, the sign of a small peak being ascended as she built herself towards a massive orgasm.

She pulled back from me and suggested:

“Clare, I would love a bath, would you run me one?”

I took this as an order and went and drew the water. Hannah came through and stood there for me, implying that I should undress her. I helped her out of her clothes and went to remove her bra.

“Help me out of my bra and show respect to where my nipples were sitting.”

I undid the clip and helped her arms out of the black, lacy brassiere, matching her panties. I turned her cups over and lovingly kissed the material, picking up her natural body odour. I extended my tongue and softly licked where she had been.

“You may kiss my nipples now.”

I turned my attention to her pert brown natural teats and took her right one into my mouth and let my tongue run over it and gently sucked, and then repeated this on its partner. As I kept this up by moving back and repeating my adoration, I heard Hannah sigh, a little whimper of pleasure running through her body.

“Now, remove my panties, but no hands of course.”

I removed around her, using my teeth to inch her soft, lacy fabric down her legs, starting with the band at the nape of her bottom and then working around in circles. After a couple of minutes, they slid easily down her legs and she stepped out of them. She picked them up, sniffed at them briefly and put them on my head, her sodden gusset infusing its contents into me.

“Kneel there and take me in.”

She climbed into the bath and luxuriated there, enjoying the warmth and flicking the water over her breasts for it to run down her firm, young tummy.

“Ok, Clare, I want you to shave my pussy now.”

She had me remove her panties and put them in a bag, following this by handing me her razor and cream and laying back in the bath, pushing her mound upwards to me so that it was clear of the water. I went to work, lathering up the soap and covering her pussy with it. I took the razor and with careful, deft strokes ran it over her, removing any dark brown stubble.

“We’ll have to get you a cut throat razor as you will be able to get me even smoother, Clare. What about you, are you smooth?”

I nodded to her saying that I had gone through a major depilation before leaving, early this morning.

I received a “Good Girl” and then a “Get in the bath with me and massage me.” I sat behind her and massaged her back and breasts for some twenty minutes, also focusing on the nape of her neck and gently kissing it and then her ears, knowing that she liked that.

We climbed out of the bath and I took the towels and dried her down first, and then me. I helped her into a new long cream nightie and passed comment on what a nice soft one it was. I dried and put on female, pink jammies, as well as a pair of Hannah’s clean, pink panties that she had chosen for me.

“I’ve got us something ahead of your birthday, Clare.”

Hannah went into the bedroom and came back with three wide bands in her hands.

“The first one is, for you, Clare. This collar is a similar one to when we were in France. I’m going to put it on you and this will become standard wear when we are at home.”

She had me lean forward and snapped into position a one inch stainless steel collar, lined with a neoprene to aid term wearing. This collar of a one inch width had four brass “D” rings off each of the quarters around my neck.

“Now I want you to put these on me.”

She held up two identical fur-lined leather straps that were designed to fit around her thighs; each of them had two rings off each strap and a socket designed to take a wide base toy. I dropped to my knees and attached the straps to her upper legs. Having done that, Hannah led me through to the bedroom and onto her bed, bringing the bagged panties with her. She pulled back the bed-covers and there, on the sheet, were a couple of short chains and small locks, as well as a vibrator and butt plug. She sat on the bed and got me to put my head in between her knees and fixed the chains between her thighs and my neck collar into place.

“I need your tongue on me. Get to it. This is how you are spending the night.”

This is how I spent the night, serving her orally, locked in closely to her pussy and under her nightie so that enveloped me closer in to her, trapping her aroma all around me. I realised that this was to become a common form of worship.

Next morning she woke me and had me turn onto my back to queen me, before releasing my chains and taking me, by pulling down my panties and climbing on me to being herself to a top-level orgasm.

Afterwards, I was then left in her bed, secured with her highly pungent panties, to meditate on as she went about various morning jobs.

She kept up her pace in getting me back into a feminine state by ordering me to glue my silicon breasts being onto my chest as I had a couple of days off for the move.

Even though we were heading out to shop that day, she made me wear another pair of the used panties with her deliberate heavy markings so as to remind me I was hers, and only hers.

This pattern of aromatic submission was reinforced by regularly having to take in her scent during the day, and especially one pungent pair that she relished in by tying them so they were tight to my nose, and then hooding me so that I was tightly enclosed in my own world to intensify my reflections on Hannah and her pussy.

My company had been generous and given me a moving-in allowance; this was a not-inconsiderable sum of money at that time and was very useful to me as to increasing my female wardrobe. Hannah and I went out on a couple of shopping trips on the excuse it was my birthday. In reality, it was not that far off.

We bought a wide selection of clothes from skirts and dresses to blouses and t-shirts, polo necks, jumpers of varying thickness and a couple of female suits, as well as a small heap of lingerie.

The latter was something that Hannah could wear too, our sizes still being virtually identical. The distinguishing mark to what Hannah had as her clothing was perhaps the femininity of everything we bought, for example, tops with ribbons and laces hanging down, and something that you would never see on a male.

We also included a range of accessories for a modern girl of that time, and given the one area of size difference, an investment was made into shoes, booties and full boots.

Life quickly settled into a nice pattern for us. In practice, the only male outer clothing I was wearing was a suit or blazer and shirt and, even there, from time to time Hannah insisted on me wearing a feminine plain or striped shirt. Whatever the clothing for work that I was wearing, my first task on getting home was to get my male items off, don my prostheses, and then dress in full female mode. With a student’s agenda and library work, sometimes Hannah was in, other times she wasn’t back to late and I would shop and prepare dinner for her.

Most importantly of all, we enjoyed each other’s company and sharing evenings out, visits to galleries, exhibitions, plays and shows, restaurants, or just a quiet evening cuddled up. Being together was what we craved and had now had the opportunity to do so, we were always hand in hand, even Beata and Dana joked about us being joined at the hip; if only they knew they were closer to the truth than they realised.

The sex and Hannah’s domination of me was of course very important and provided a very strong glue between us, sating both our needs. We also took opportunity to build our “accessories” collection.

We naturally split the cooking, in reality we did it together, naturally switching the roles of prepping, cooking and clean-up though I gravitated to the latter activity.

I was responsible for all lingerie and laundry, and hand-washed our bras and panties, this being a regular excuse for “small reminders” of Hannah’s attraction. I quickly settled into the other “handmaiden” tasks of bathing her, washing and drying her hair, nails, and oral duties.

Duties also included toilet responsibilities at least one session a day and, in practice, twice.

The key to this was a tray we had specially made for us. I created the design work with suggestions from Hannah, and she had a friend who was a metal worker by hobby and trade. We said that we were making a cat tray with a slightly elevated feeding area for the bowl and milk, and then a curved slope down to pit for the litter.

At the bottom end of the tray, the wall was lowered slightly and “rolled.” What we really intended was a flat area in the tray that could take a small inflatable pillow, like those airline cushions, for my head to rest comfortably. With my mouth open, either forced through a dental restraint or just plain open, Hannah could comfortably stand over me, squat in a peeing position, or sit on my face and do her thing. Any excessive urine would naturally fall away into the trap at the bottom and the curved lip allowed my back to be comfortable if Hannah wanted a long “contemplative” session on her personal “toilet.”

We should have marketed the tray for commercial use as our shower was a little tight in space and it was much easier to use than a Victorian bath.

In the following days after moving in with Hannah, I grew use to her salty and sweet taste. I would describe her natural fluid as a little sharp and aromatic, a little like nettle juice mixed with sage and other herbs, but then quite sweet as her musty after-taste came through. I also was made to wear her pee-soaked and let them dry on me, a form of human clothes horse.

Two weeks in, there came a big test, well big in implications. It was a Saturday morning and we had slept in after a long beating and strap session the night before. Hannah called me through to the bathroom and the tray was already pulled out and the head-pillow in place. I came through in my nightie.

“Clare, I was up in the middle of the night and my monthly has decided to start.”

I stared at her.

“Means I am not pregnant though!”

In fact, Hannah had gone onto the Pill, so this was a joke. I do not know what my facial reaction was to this news.

“I want you to take down my panties.”

I lifted her nightie up and she was wearing a pair of heavier cotton briefs, like the ones that she had made me wear during my initiation to watersports . Hannah held onto her gown and, deftly, I used my regular technique of firstly taking the elastic band of the panties at the back, where the brand tags normally are, and working the panties down over her bottom. I would then move to the front and repeat the process and, where necessary, use her sides to help the fabric down her legs. Her cotton briefs came down easily this time.

“Onto the tray with you.”

I lowered myself down and Hannah moved over me and slowly lowered herself onto me. I could see a small string hanging down from her pussy. She held the string to one side and relieved herself, accurately filling my mouth and getting me to automatically swallow her contents. Hannah maintained her urine was good for me, for keeping the thickness of my hair and well-being.

“Clean me as normal, Clare, lick me from front to back and make sure my anus is clean of any overnight crud.”

I obeyed her, taking in her sharp, sweet and acrid tastes.

“Now, remove my tampon using your teeth, then soak up my juices and clean me up, take care to go front to back again.”

I gripped onto her bottom with my hands, put my head back into her pussy and managed to capture the string in my teeth. I pulled and, slowly, her bloody tampon emerged from its soaking-wet home. As it came out, I let it fall into the tray.

Behind her tampon came a small flood of her menstrual waste and I opened my mouth to take it. It wasn’t a heavy aroma as it was so fresh, but it was a little “metallic” in taste.

More dark Merlot red fluid emerged from Hannah and I took that in as well, and swallowed. I started to use my tongue to coax her and clean her up, bearing in mind the warning of direction of my tongue, so as to avoid any risk of infection. It took some good five minutes to get her clean again, and I ended up well bloodied.

“Ok, Clare, well done, now insert a fresh tampon into me.”

Hannah widened her stance on me and handed me the applicator. Following her instructions to the tee, I took it and inserted it into her pussy up to the marker. I then held onto the base with two of my fingers and pushed the lower part into her, again using my teeth. Finally, I picked up the outer applicator and pulled the cover out of her. It was in.

“Great, I’m glad that you can do this, Clare, you only have to do this four times a day when we are at home. And later on, in three or four days’ time and first thing in the morning, after my overnight discharge, you can change my pad out.”

Her smile was inscrutable:

“You really are a toilet slave now.”

This task was now added to my routine and it went further in mentally driving home to me that I was fully in Hannah’s service, and in complete enslavement to her love orifices. I grew to welcome the monthly expedition as it meant being able to spend more time under her; to me, it was a form of monthly sacrament that she offered me.

Shortly after Hannah cleared her monthly, it was my birthday.

We celebrated it in good style with a lovely lunch at one of our favourite local restaurants, just the two of us. Hannah had me wear a pair of her dirty white panties, showing her skid marks and her cum and pee nicely crusted in too. I wore a cream skirt and bronze silk shirt with linen shoes as it was warm. After lunch, I opened my presents and, apart from family ones, Hannah had bought me some lovely special “cadeaux.”

My first present was a long, silky, georgette, white nightie with thin, spaghetti straps and a distinct triangular section for my boobs. There were lace leavers running down the side of each breast to give a glimpse of transparency to what was lying beneath. Under the breast-line, there was a seam but also with a tempting little “button” hole at the join of the “valley” with the seam. With this gown, there was a matching robe and panties.

But they were panties with a difference.

They were plain on the front except for the addition of a little of lace; however, on the rear there were four buttons to open up access to my bottom, making them ideal for wearing with my gaffe and giving Hannah extra access to fingering my anus.

Hannah also gave me a range of panties and bras but then came her “pièce de resistance.” I opened the present, wrapped in paper and long ribbons and, inside, there was a black box housing a beautiful pearl choker. On this was a silver disc engraved:

“Clare, Hannah’s girl.”

Now, I had worn the steel collar most of the time when in the apartment and, occasionally, the black choker with the “D” ring on it when out, but this one I could wear outside most of the time. It was gorgeous and I leant over and kissed Hannah a big “thank you.”

Beata and Dana came around late afternoon and we opened up a bottle of white wine. The day risked turning into a bucolic haze. They brought some flowers, a nice card and had shared on a present, a lovely white corset with Wolford dark tan stockings. They too got a big kiss for their generosity.

We were all due to go out together and I had chosen one of our newly discovered French restaurants, La Poule au Pôt, on the edge of Belgravia. I thought it would be an appropriate choice as it would remind us of our trip to France, the food and ambiance were good and, at that time, it was reasonable on the budget. Hannah and I showered together and I helped her dry off. I had not been exempted from my tasks even though it was my birthday and, before the shower, she had used me as her toilet, letting me subsequently bring her to a small orgasm.

With Hannah’s approval, I chose to wear my corset, stockings and panties and over it went a white long-sleeved silk t-shirt, a “cord” cum linen coloured skirt and matching shoes. Hannah chose a rust, lightweight trouser suit. Lastly, I put on my birthday choker.

We caught a taxi down to South Kensington and entered the bistro. Le Pôt was fairly full already; however, we had a nice table reserved for the four of us in the window. A lot of folk commented that it was one of the most romantic restaurants in London. The clientele were, and are, crammed close together so pussy service, from under the table, was really out of the question. The atmosphere was, and still is, definitely one of the most authentically French. The cuisine is very rustic and wine served in enormous carafe bottles, and one pays for the amount consumed rather than the entire bottle.

I chose an onion tart to start which was delicious, the flakiest crumbliest pastry encasing a creamy custard filling dotted with caramelized onions. Other starters around the table included cheese quiche and chicken liver pate. Mains included grilled tarragon chicken, steak “saignant," cooked the French way, meaning still quivering, and sea bream. Three of us opted for desserts which included a chocolate fondant, raspberry sorbet and tarte tatin. And copious amounts of the house wine and then espressos to finish us off.

A joyful quartet headed back to Primrose Hill for some more coffee and liqueurs. We had bought large, duty-free bottles of Armagnac and Cointreau on the way back from France. With some nice, big, balloon glasses in front of us, we started reminiscing about our trip, especially what we had enjoyed. I admitted that I had been surprised on how much pain that I could endure and also the “layered” effect from the different forms of punishment that Hannah and Sophie had applied to me. Dana also agreed with that, and then recounted her love of latex. Beata related her excitement at vacuum control for engorgement of her clit and nipples.

Hannah disappeared to the bedroom and bathroom for a few minutes. The girls had already seen our pee tray and thought that this was brilliant. She came back in, struggling with a large, wrapped, box-like present.

“One more for you, Clare, and you may… ‘No, will,’ use it tonight.”

I opened the parcel and inside there was a padded queening stool with a black leather top, very similar in design to the one in our suite at La Résidence. I went over to Hannah and said thank you with a kiss and she grabbed me, pulled me into her and gave me a long French kiss.

“You may well as try it out now. Dana, why don’t you help Clare get down to her lingerie.”

Dana came across to me and I was soon stripped down to my corset, stockings and panties by her and then placed into the box, right there in the living room. We got the height of the pad adjusted so that I could deliver comfortable service. Hannah was first to take the seat and I had the delight of saying thank you to her, orally, running my tongue up and down her naked, intricate folds of her labia and allowing my tongue to anally tease her. Dana followed Hannah, who disappeared mysteriously to the bedroom. Dana surprised me as she was wearing latex panties which added their nuance to her natural smells; I soon had her cumming strongly into my mouth.

Hannah came back into the lounge and Beata asked her,

“I fancy a pee, ok Hannah if I use Clare?”

“Sure, but if you use, let me use Dana.”

I was led through to the bathroom by Hannah and lay down on the mat, my head on the air-pillow. Beata followed with Dana and removed her skirt, revealing her black panties and stockings. Dana was duly made by Hannah to remove Beata’s smalls by using her teeth only. As Dana was struggling with this task, Hannah produced a funnel and put it into my mouth. This was a little humiliating I thought but then I realised that Hannah didn’t want spills as to later.

Once prepared and panties-less, Beata stood above me, her small bottom provocatively posed, revealing the fullness of her pussy and down to her small rosebud. She lowered herself down towards me, into the squatting position and released herself into the funnel. Her sharp urine cascaded down and quickly filled me, forcing me to swallow her.

This was totally different in feeling to being a “target” for a woman’s pee and probably more akin to a man peeing into me. She continued to pee and pee and I was taking in copious amounts, the wine that she had drunk was coming through adding an undertone to her flavour.

As she finished, Beata removed the funnel and sat down on me for my tongue to act as her toilet paper, and to bring her up to her first enjoyment of the evening. Dana followed me into the submissive position on the tray and Hannah repeated the process of urinating into the funnel and then in really enjoying using Dana’s face to wipe herself. She already was onto her second peak of the evening.

Dana and I cleaned our teeth to remove the intense pee taste and Hannah and Beata appeared with ankle and leg cuffs for us, which we had to fix to each other and then hand the girls the keys back.

We were led through to the bedroom.

I was truly shocked when I saw what Hannah had arranged. While we were out, our friend, the metal-worker, had apparently been into the apartment on Hannah’s loan of a key and fixed a couple of large industrial sized hooks and rings to the beam that traversed the bedroom. Hannah had been in there while Dana was enjoying herself on me and had fixed up the chains to how she wanted them.

Dana was first to be secured, her tummy over the bottom edge of our bed to push her bottom out.

Beata fitted a spreader between her ankles and then bound her wrists and attached them to one of the chains hanging down and tightened it. Her fingers danced over Dana’s pussy region to pre-tease her.

I was next. Hannah had me lie across the bed and got me comfortable as if I was sitting on large pillows and cushions behind me. She then secured my wrists, pulled my arms back, and attached the cuffs to a chain hanging down. She followed this by taking two of the dangling chains and attaching them onto my ankle cuffs, spreading my legs wide open. She pulled on them to hoist my bottom off the bed, so both my mound and my bottom were now exposed. Their last bondage act was to gag us both so as to keep us quiet and then we each got the other’s panties from that evening put over our heads as a final bondage submission act.

Hannah went over to our “sex” cupboard and pulled out a couple of crops and small floggers; she handed one of each type to Beata. Both girls then went to work on us, Beata starting with the flogger on Dana’s bottom, and Hannah using her crop to tease me with the tag and then leave a significant welt on my bottom. They switched over to their other item and started to add those marks to our now sore backsides. Hannah used a flogger with little studs in it that really stung when so expertly flicked and she took the advantage of my position to whip the inside of my thighs. This nearly had me screaming into my gag and breaking out in tears, but through it all, I was comforted by taking in Dana’s personal perfume as I fought to inhale air.

The two girls switched places and went back to their original equipment, Beata adding forcefully to Hannah’s legacy markings on my bottom. Some twenty strokes rained down on me, building the intense heat in my bottom. I needed relief.

That wasn’t to come just yet.

Beata went into her bag and pulled out her double strap and Hannah took one of ours, a new Vac-U system. She snapped on a seven inch long, wide girth, black cock for her penile extension, and a similar pink one to take inside her. She then stepped into the harness, inserting her cock and tightening it.

It looked enormous on her frame, as did Beata’s.

They then went over to Dana and removed my panties from her head and the ball gag.

Beata offered her cock to Dana to enjoy orally, and Hannah took her, slowly immersing herself into Dana’s now very wet cunt. What a sight it was as Dana was fucked rigid at both ends, in effect, an artificial cock roasting. The girls switched position so Dana got to taste her own cum and Hannah lubricated her dong up to anally take her bottom.

By the time, they had finished themselves and brought on their own orgasms, Dana was shaking from the experience, having had, she said afterwards, the most mind-blowing, internal explosion of her life.

The girls turned their attention on me.

Hannah cleaned her cock off and then soaked it in Dana’s viscous cum. She climbed onto my chest and removed Dana’s panties and the gag so as to offer it to my mouth, forcing me to take her. She slid it into me to savour, suck and honour her.

Meanwhile, Beata came over to me, lubricated up her cock and positioned herself in front of my open anal channel. I felt her at my entrance, pushing. I let myself relax and concentrated on Hannah’s offering to my mouth. Beata pushed into me and I felt her in there, filling me up. She was considerate in her entry, allowing me to widen and take her dildo.

The two girls started to build up their rhythm, taking me together. Indeed, this felt wonderful, to be double skewered by them, two of my favourite three girls in my life. They rode me close to climax and I knew pre-cum was emerging and passing down to my own cunt.

Hannah indicated that she wished to switch positions and moved off me. As Beata withdrew, she slipped down and quickly tongued me, then took Hannah’s position. Hannah did not even bother lubricating up as I was gaping, open and ready to receive her. She just nailed me, sliding in with ease and immediately assaulting my gurl-spot.

My mind felt it too was going to explode and a few seconds of hard shafting by these two lovers, I erupted, a mind blowing numbness coming over me, and a massive torrent of cum passing down my vaginal tube. Earth-shattering and it took ten minutes to come of my sexual plateau.

The fucking and love making continued long and hard into the night before I ended up, once again, secured between Hannah’s thighs to go sleep at the portals of my lover. We knew Beata wanted to get these thigh straps to allow Dana to sleep with her in this manner, a future birthday present from us two.

Birthday over, life moved back to a regular pace with the sexual discipline that Hannah had instilled in me, along with creative discipline and oral sessions. I noted a gradual change in the nature of these as more toy play on Hannah came into force, the use of larger toys on me, and that I would now fuck her, more often or not, with a strap on me, or should I reword that she would fuck me.

She teased me that I could offer her a longer and thicker cock with the strap than my gurl-clit and that organ should ideally remain in my gaffe urethra channel doing what a girl should in peeing down it and, in my case, providing the moistness to my slit. Our largest cock for the “Vac U” was some 7 inches long but with a nice thick girth of 5 ½ inches, and Hannah really enjoyed riding this. We were talking about buying an even larger vibrator or dildo, and preferably a chrome one, which we had seen in Honour, one of our favourite fetish shops, just south of Waterloo station.

It was just under three months after my birthday when Hannah dropped her bombshell on me.

We were near the end of a heavy, sex session with its usual emphasis on my subservience. I had given her a long personal preparation from full depilation to breast massage, hair washing, drying, brushing and fixing her nails before dressing her.

Of course, I had given her oral under the tablecloth of the restaurant and, on leaving the bistro, I had been walked across Regent’s Park and up Primrose Hill by her, dressed just in my lingerie and heel shoes; led by her chain leading off my steel collar, and with a pair of a particularly heavily-used pair of black panties that she had secured over my nose and pinned at the back of my neck, so they could not be easily removed.

I was also handcuffed.

I felt very humiliated and degraded doing this in public and on potential view; however, I was totally in her control and discretion.

I had been seriously beaten by her this evening and had given her long oral servitude for well over an hour, with a particular and demanded attention to her anal channel. She had not had an enema or cleansed herself that well, subjecting me to what had been taboo on her part up to now, and I felt that this just added to my “discomfort” level.

It was almost as if she had set a test to see how far my submission would go and whether I would protest.

Hannah had immobilised me with my legs locked in a wide spreader bar, my wrists pulled above me, and then coupled and chained off against the top of the bed. I had on Hannah’s black corset housing my fixed breasts but I was now knickerless, though still with my gaffe on.

As to my head, she had that well and truly trussed. She had taken the panties that she had worn that evening and turned them inside out for me to inhale her dampness from fresh pre-cum, pee and shit stains. She used these as a gag on me, and then she took the panties I had scented across the Park and re-fixed those around my head so as to continue her personal sensual assault on me.

And then she had fixed a new gag onto my mouth that offered her the joy of riding a six inch black cock right over my face.

She had done exactly that, riding me hard with her pussy bouncing up and down right above me, giving me a full view of how it responded to the insertion and expulsion of a cock. Her cum oozed down onto her panties that were locked over me, and the pressure of her riding me forced me to taste those crusty panties wedged in my mouth.

We were now coupled together in post-coital come down, Hannah having ridden my hard, artificial, strap cock to a very full-on ejaculation in her orgasm, showing how “worked-up” she had been. She had cum on our favourite cock, that I referred to before, and which was strapped to me in my harness that she had made me put on as part of her bondage assembly of me. Beforehand, she had berated me for the relative smallness of my “gurl clit” and that she needed more to sate her, to explode its massive load in her and “cream” the insides of her cunt, as she put it.

“Clare, darling, I feel I now need a substantial, proper, real man’s cock in me,” were her very words. I remember sort of glaring at her through the leg-holes of her panties on me, unable to respond with her impregnated knickers in my mouth.

“What I mean by that, Clare, is that I need a real seven-inch plus - and a wide girth at that - man’s cock in me.”

The eyes beaming into mine were jubilant as she finished:

“And I just may have found one.”

I was gob-smacked, but at the same time, I confess, curious; deep down I think I had known that this was going to come at some point.

“It’s not that I do not love you, Clare. I do, and will continue to do so with all my heart. You are my ultimate lover and how you service me is just…so special and cherished. It’s just that I need to feel a truly substantial cock in me, inseminating me, flooding me with his manly sperm, making me his, just for a few moments.”

I sort of spluttered against my gag, her heavily stained panties, at the thought of another man inside her, making love to her, releasing his load deep into her womb. That man getting his pleasure out of her as she gave herself willingly to him. Or in having his way with her arse or mouth, forcing her to take his load into her other orifices.

“It’s just a different form of sex isn’t it, you don’t decry that, do you. After all, if we do get on, I may want you there in time to serve me, serve us. It doesn’t distract from our love, and look how you have accepted Beata and Dana into our play. It isn’t that much different. Agree?”

Hannah released me from my bonds and I think I was a little shell-shocked as we got a glass of wine and sat down for her to run through her logic which, I had to accept, made some sense; especially in that this was plain raw sex and not love.

Separate the two, Clare.

We agreed a way forward, Hannah having described the young man in question.

Not that he was so young though.

It turned out that he was thirty-eight and one of her “Readers”; a senior lecturer in her department.

He was also married, and in some way, that was a comfort to me as I knew he had his wife to go back to. Apparently, they had taken a few coffees and lunches together and got on well - intellectually and socially. Nothing had happened to that point, but Hannah knew that he wanted her, and she wanted him. There had been some “risqué” verbal exchanges, the foreplay of two brains coming together and engaging in sexual fantasy.

So how did she know he was well endowed?

Well, she didn’t have a full idea, but she knew he had a very healthy cock from the very large tent that would form in his trousers, and up against her when she had kissed him goodbye.

“Only a goodbye kiss, by the way. Nothing else.”

The agreement we reached was a simple one: she would date him once and see where it led, whether they got on and she had my accord - though what influence did I really have, to prevent her engaging in sex with another if she so desired it? I would help her prepare for her date and she would leave me appropriately subjugated, then, on her return, she would fully debrief me accordingly on what had transpired. If it truly worked, it was up to Hannah if she wanted to take the relationship further, how to proceed, and engage me in it.

She would, she told me, be upfront with him about my role and the nature of our relationship. Apparently, he was sex-starved at home after his wife had their second child and began ignoring his needs, so he thought. I did, jokingly, suggest that she should demand a pair of his wife’s well used panties as a small fee to be used on me, her gurlfriend!

With that we went to bed. This time, for once, I was just in her panties in wearing them “top and tail” on me, along with my favourite, long cream nightie that she had given me. Hannah cuddled me into her as an expression of her love. I didn’t sleep too well, it must be said, as my mind ran rampant on the idea of his cock entering deep into her love orifices.

The first date with her new man was set up for the following Friday.

Chapter Eight

Hannah and Roger

The week passed as if everything was normal and so it was in terms of our day-to-day disciplines and relationship. Hannah asked me if I too could take the Friday off and that she would treat me to some salon work; however, I would be needed for the preparation work for her date as the day advanced.

On the day we woke as normal, my head locked in close to Hannah’s love haven and she wanted early oral servitude and sex off my strap. This was then followed by her usual morning relief into me and a shower together.

We dressed, with me wearing her used panties from the day before, and we headed over to the salon where we had some nice pedicures, waxing, manicures and she had her nails “Frenched.” We also had our hair done. With lunch, this took us most of the day.

Around mid-afternoon, we caught a taxi back to the apartment and I made us some tea. I could sense her nervousness and anticipation building for what was to come that evening.

Hannah asked me to choose her lingerie and clothing for the evening, and then to draw a bath for her.

It was 5.45 p.m. and she was headed out at 7.30 for an 8.00 date with Roger.

I did as she bade and she came through to the bathroom where she asked to pee on me once more and have me bring her to a “little orgasm”.

She was so tense, she told me.

In this she was not alone.

Having stripped off, I got into my prone position and, lovingly, brought her to quite a climax, judging how she discharged into me. We then climbed into the bath and just lay together with Hannah, as usual, in front of me as I gently massaged her body. Finally, she presented her mound to me and I leaned over and grabbed our new cut-throat razor to very carefully prepare her mound and especially her pussy lips for her new lover.

I dried her off and then myself, taking time to ensure she was properly perfumed before rolling deodorant on under her armpits. Hannah went on to make herself up as I dried off and dressed in the nightie and underwear she had chosen for me. She then went through to the bedroom to dress and I grabbed a quick sandwich and glass of wine as I knew as I was not going to eat that evening.

She came into the kitchen in her lingerie and kissed me passionately, thanking me for my choice of underwear. I had her wear a cream Chantelle set that she had, comprising of a lacy ¾ cup bra, a matching three inch deep suspender belt and bikini, lacy, panties that outlined her pussy and were semi-transparent on her bottom. Her stockings were carbon-grey. I thought that this ensemble would be very sexy and classy as a sight for Roger, if they got to the bedroom or wherever he intended to take her.

Next it was back to the bedroom to put on her clothing.

I had chosen her “hay” coloured linen suit with a cream blouse, highlighted by a Hermes scarf in autumn colours that her mother had given her. Her heels were darker in colour but balanced the suit and her stockings. I helped her with her perfume and a light, final touch to her hair.

We then arranged her handbag, money, perfume, make-up accessories and she then said:

“Clare, I need to get some condoms.”

“Why, honey, you are on the Pill! If you are going to take his sperm, take it properly, deep into you.”

“Mmmm, I do love you… Tell you what I will take a small plug for my pussy.”

Hannah turned to me and use the bondage gear to secure me to the bed.

“Lock me in, honey, I want to be restrained while you are gone and to focus only on you, and how you are being treated and made love to.”

“Well, I will fasten a spreader and your ankles and your wrists, but I won’t chain your wrists above you, it could be too long that I am gone, especially if Roger really is a good lover. I will leave you the key here within reaching distance if you do need to release yourself.”

“Ok”

With that, Hannah locked me into the spreader and secured my wrists. She went to the laundry basket and recovered another pair of her panties, turned them inside out to expose her gusset, and gagged me again. She then “pantied” my head. She jumped off the bed and went to the cupboard and pulled out one of our butt plugs which she lubricated up.

With that, she lifted my nightie and partly took my panties down to gently insert it into my love channel. Back into the cupboard and out came a new leather hood that I had not seen before.

“I have got this for you, Clare, as a small thank you for tonight. I do love you.”

She put this over my pantied head and padlocked the collar onto my neck collar, behind and in front of my neck. She closed the mouth piece on the hood and snapped home a blindfold, in both cases, using the pop studs on built into the hood. I was now completely immersed in this encasement and, of course, Hannah’s aroma. I could feel my highly aroused clit deep in my gaffe, wanting to explode. She whispered,

“Goodnight, Clare, see you later.”

She leaned over and kissed me on my mouth panel and I smelt her rich perfume, seeping through her panties fabric under my hood nose openings.

And that was the last I heard of her that evening as she slipped quietly out of our bedroom and the apartment.

Time became irrelevant to me. I was enclosed in Hannah’s world, my mind focused on her and what she was doing. It was pitch black inside the hood and all I could sense was her exotic perfume from her panties.

I managed to fall asleep for a while and when I awoke I had no idea of time. I started to think how she might now be in bed, her legs wide apart to take in his manhood. Or in a doggy position so as to enjoy him fucking her from the rear. Visions of Hannah oralling him also flashed through, taking in his huge head and letting him slide down her throat.

The thought of Hannah submitting to him, allowing the sort of fetish sex she gave me to be acted out on her, was… well, it was blowing me away. I could picture her body trembling as she came and - if the orgasm was as strong as I expected it would be - ejaculating all over him.

Hannah returned around 4 am it turned out, to find me in a fitful sleep, still in my bonded position and feeling sore, as well as more than a little stiff.

She crept into the bedroom and whispered into my, ear:

“Honey, I am home.”

On hearing her, I stirred. She kissed me on my hood and undid my mouth piece and, with her finger, pushed on her panties that were over my mouth under the hood. She gently shoved them up over my nose, clearing both nostrils and mouth and leaned over to kiss, long and hard, into my mouth.

Her own mouth was musky and she smelled different, leaving me in no doubt, had I not known beforehand, that she had been close to a man.

My lovely Hannah smelt of raw sex.

I manage to croak out a question:

“How was it, Hannah? You are alright?”

“Mmmmm, yes I am fine and safe. And it was a wonderful evening.”

“Good, I am glad that you are ok. Are you going to give me a summary of what happened?”

“Soon, Honey, I want to fuck you first though and then I will tell you. I love you, you know.”

I felt Hannah rustling around and then she moved my hips, fixing her strap on me. I presumed it was with our largest dildo. Having got that tightly into position on me, I could sense her climbing onto the bed and then manoeuvring over me. I heard her pulling at something and placing it on the bedside table. Her bottom came down firmly on my nose and mouth and, immediately, I picked up a different smell from her.

It was obviously Roger.

She was soaking wet and, very quickly, I picked up a heavy salty liquid descending through the hood mouth hole into me. She still had his jism in her pussy and here she was, having me eat it out of her along with her spent cum. From the smell of her anus, I knew that she had been taken in here as well. I let my tongue wander up over her perineum and her muscle ring was still slack from having taken his girth and my tongue slid easily into her. Again I picked up the saltiness of his cum, mingling with a hint of lubricant, and her anal fluid.

Back to her swollen pussy, and cum was still emerging, now mixed with her own fresh secretions as she was highly aroused. She wiggled and pressed down on me, making me realise that her cunt and anus were back in my world again. I could feel her cumming and a small amount of her ejaculation spurted into my mouth. I treasured this personal gold.

Hannah moved forward on me, down over my breasts, and mounted my strap cock. I felt her fucking herself on me. Then her real orgasm came, a shattering one, and she was moaning loudly, (No, it was shouting), She came on me as her brain drove itself over the top. She slid off her dildo friend and moved back on to my face and slowly let me bring her down the hill with my tongue, her following mini-orgasms slowly cascading her down to normality.

“Mmmm, thanks you, Clare. I needed that. I love you.”

She released me from my hood and bonds and we got into our nighties to fall asleep, what little was left of the night. She wasn’t finished though.

“Clare, I have got you a small present, a thank you, from Roger’s laundry basket and with his knowledge.”

She pulled a purple pair of lacy bikini panties out of her handbag and slipped my head into them.

She told me to wait a few seconds and she retrieved an old stocking to bind them onto me. Her scent was fairly strong and quite close to that of Dana in that it was a sweet intense smell flooded into me.

We fell asleep in each other’s arms.

It was lunch time before we woke and Hannah finally spilled the beans about what had transpired the night before, as I sat there continuing to inhale Roger’s wife.

She had met Roger at London University and he had taken her to Odin’s restaurant in Devonshire Street, a nice treat for her. They had chatted about the course work and, as the meal had gone on, the conversation had turned more sexual in nature. Hannah had given him a run down on us and some of what went on, and Roger, apparently, was amazed that a young woman of almost 20 could have had so much experience and an interest in domination and fetish play.

Quickly mastering his amazement, he recounted that his life was far more mundane and that sex between him and his wife had tailed off since the birth of their last child. She had never been that sexually charged and knew he had the occasional sexual fling. But, if it did not compromise with their relationship, she was reasonably happy about this and even asked him for extensive details of his girls, suggesting perhaps an underlying lesbian fantasy.

Like Hannah, he too preferred being dominant in bed.

The conversation had got bluer as the evening went on, and not only were they holding hands, but Hannah had opportunity to feel more closely what was inside his trousers and what to expect when he invaded her.

The sooner the better, she had told herself.

They left the restaurant and strolled back to his house which was in one of the terraces behind Baker Street. His wife was away for a couple of days, visiting her family with the children. Once inside, he had opened a bottle of brandy and, with her agreement, he slipped a dominant submissive, male to female, video tape on. It wasn’t long before he was kissing and petting her intensely on the sofa as they both responded to the explicit sex scenes on the TV.

Hannah said that she took the lead and led him through to his bedroom. She found it quite thrilling that she was going to make love to a man in his own marital bed, somewhere that had seen frequent action and wet sheets, as she put it, between him and his wife. She had imagined being his wife lying there in the crumpled bedding, on her back and legs apart, or on her knees and arms in doggy style, ready to receive Roger into her hallowed, dripping-wet haven.

Hannah described how she had dropped to her knees and unzipped his pants and reached inside.

From his underpants had emerged a magnificent penis, of a magnitude Hannah had never seen before. She said that it was well over seven and a half inches, approaching eight, and with a far thicker girth than mine and - even better to her - a massive purple helmet topping it off. She admitted she had just let her mouth open wide and slide over this thick love-making rod to let him fill up with her up, to become temporarily his property and to let him know she was ready and willing to receive him.

He had become terribly hard in her soft mouth and he knew that she wanted him as he swiftly undressed and she took in his firm body and the magnificent cock that was offset by the two large, heavy balls that underpinned his glory.

When he undressed her he was taken aback.

Firstly by the slender beauty she offered him. Secondly at the way her lingerie appeared, inviting him in to her. And, thirdly, when she had removed her panties and he saw she was depilated - a rare thing back in those years.

This combination of visual delights, combined with her enticing sex smell, really had turned him on.

Hannah had pulled him onto the bed and, inadvertently, to the side of the mattress where his wife usually lay. She said that she had wanted him first time in the missionary position, just to feel him in her and to express that she was very much the receiver in this relationship – making it plain she wanted to submit to this hunk of a man.

The moment he entered her she described as “divine”. A feeling he was splitting her cunt in two and filling her up to the limits of her capacity so there was no more room. The hard fucking from his length that followed making her feel as if he would open up her uterus.

They had come together in a monster of an orgasm, Hannah describing how she had locked her vaginal muscles and kegels around his hard shaft and let him explode his copious seed into her, washing her insides with his thick jism to give a better chance for his minute reproductive tadpoles to swim their way up deep into her and make her pregnant. They had shaken with the nervous energy pent up in them in the sexual foreplay that had built up over the evening and the days before. Now they could get down to some serious love-making.

Roger took her five times that night; his stamina and sexual frustration showing through together. Apart from the above, he took her doggy style twice, once into her cunt and once anally, taking a lot of care to open her anus up before entering her. Even then, she said, after that first time it took her some good ten minutes to relax and let him get into her - that mushroom head being so large, penetrative and sensitive on her.

They also went on and repeated the same combination of a cunt fuck followed by an anal one with Hannah being impaled on top of him, a position she said was absolutely mentally shattering, feeling his hard cock head up near her the floor of her cervix.

“The difference, Clare, even though he was under me, he still fucked me.”

She allowed this to sink in, then:

“Unlike with you where I fuck myself off against you.”

Sensing my discomfort and realising she needed to throw me a bone of her own, she smiled and said:

“However, your oral techniques are far better than his, and also the way you serve me is very special and unique. I can’t see Roger ever doing that.”

That was something, I told myself.

“There is also one other thing.”

I waited as her smile became softer – more affectionate.

“I love you, not him.”

It was exactly what I had needed to hear and, subsequently, and with my full knowledge, Hannah and Roger met the following two Fridays; each time in the afternoon in a hotel room, and in many ways a seedier, rawer sex act than being in his marital bed.

Each time, I had the job of preparing her for him, and then I was “locked” away in my own little “Hannah” world to wait for her return when she would re-emphasise my subjugation and degradation by making me ingest all their love juices from her cunt and anus before allowing me to hear the minutiae of how he had fucked her and how she had revelled in his size.

There was also the exchange of his wife’s panties, so I also came to know her intimate scent as well as Hannah’s, Beata’s, Dana’s or even Sophie’s.

After their third session and at the end of the debrief, Hannah suggested:

“Would you like to meet Roger, Honey, and perhaps watch us make love, and assist us in little ways? I would like that.”

I looked at her:

“Perhaps. Are you thinking here or in your hotel?

“Wherever you are more comfortable. I would prefer here, then we could have more variety as to bondage and in entrapping you!”

We ended up agreeing on seeing him in Primrose Hill and, shortly afterwards, a date was made for two weeks on, on the Friday night. His wife would be away again on a longer family trip with his sister and partner. We had the choice of going to his house but Hannah settled on bringing him back to us and have him make love to her in our bed, in our sheets.

“Better for Clare’s subjugation,” she had told him.

Life continued on as normal, work and term papers for both of us, and then living in the lifestyle we had chosen. Hannah kept me on a fairly strict regime when it came to physical sex, and by this I mean the avoidance of direct contact of her pussy and my clit. She also reinforced her dominance by enacting some of our “plays” outside in the Park and on the street.

This last development really threatened potential humiliation to me. I was still nervous about heading outside in full glare of everybody, thinking that folk would see straight through me to the male that I was underneath. Hannah continually teased me about this, saying that I was too sensitive about it, that I was perfectly passable and I needed to get a grip of myself. In fact, to counter me, she increased my female presence outside the house to go shopping or strolling through the park as part of my: “submission to becoming a woman and to make the full time switch.”

We also had acquired a couple of larger vibrators for cunt and anal play, almost as if to train both of us for easier acceptance of larger cocks.

The Friday of the date duly arrived and we both had engineered the day off, on guise of work from home sometime over the weekend. The day started in the usual format, release from my overnight bondage, oral satisfaction of Hannah, her normal toilet routine, showering together and dressing. Hannah first and then me.

Usually, Hannah liked to dress me in her recently used panties on such days, deliberately finished with some excessive staining from her, I felt.

This time it was different, as she ordered me to wear Heather’s, Roger’s wife’s, panties from the previous encounter, on the basis that they would be exchanged out by Roger later that evening for a more recent well-used pair, and that I should be aware that my orifices were his if he so wanted them.

I was dressed not only in my lingerie, and with my breasts glued to my chest as it was the weekend, but also in a pair of high-waist camel pants, a brown roll neck sweater and brown boots. It was a little chilly out. We had breakfast and a nice, refreshing coffee. As we finished, Hannah suggested that I headed to Selfridges for one or two items and, especially, to run a special errand for her.

“Before we head over to the salon, Clare, I want you to head to the lingerie department and find me something really sexy for tonight, and if you can find something the same that would do us both, that would be ideal. Could you just make sure my panties have a good strong gusset?”

She gave me a fair amount of cash and I set off to Selfridges, some fifteen to twenty minutes away, traffic depending. On arriving, I headed up to the third floor where they housed the lingerie. After a good hunt around, I alighted on something that would work very well. Hannah’s budget just covered it all and with it nicely wrapped, I headed out of the store and back home.

Hannah asked me if I had been successful, to which I was deliberately coy saying that she would soon see later.

“Well what about shopping as a woman in a top quality store for their lingerie then. Were you spotted and shamed?”

“No, Hannah, it passed off without any incident. I know that I am being too sensitive about this.”

“Tell me about it. But good that you did it.”

Over at the salon, we had our normal range of treatments including hair, nail clean-up and both of us being waxed, including a full stripping “down under.”

We discussed what we would wear that evening as Roger was taking us out for dinner. We had just enough time to get home, have a cup of tea, and start the now familiar “Roger” preparation of Hannah relieving herself into me, followed by a long soak in the bath, before drying and doing make-up. However, this time, Hannah surprised me by asking me to help her undergo an enema so as to ensure that she was really clean to receive his cock later. We used the “tray” and twenty minutes later, after two good flush-outs, I had her nicely cleansed out and potentially ready to take him, before I took one.

“What lingerie have you bought us, Clare?”

I had her wait for a couple of minutes as I laid out the lingerie that I had bought and the proposed evening clothing. Hannah came in and looked. She turned to me,

“These are fantastic, Clare. You are brilliant. Dress me and honour me!”

I started with a black Lise Charmel waspie-cum-waist cincher that I had bought, in fact, one for each of us so as to be identically dressed. The waspie came high up her tummy, over her belly button and almost hinted at being a Basque. It was semi-transparent in its elastomer material and clearly showed the black stays running down the length of the material.

There was a little lace highlight pattern around the hips and under the tummy button, but the semi-transparent elastomer material continued southwards to end in an arch low down her mound, partly hiding her intimacy behind it and, I hoped, making her cunt that little more exciting to be accessed by Roger.

The waspie did up at the back in a series of hooks and eyelets, but on the front, there was a lacing effect with a fine black ribbon running down the front centre, knotting itself off at the bottom over her mound.

I helped Hannah into it, hooking her up but leaving the front lacing a little slack as I had yet to put her panties on. I took her bra which was made in the same material, mainly semi-transparent but with a little of the lace highlight pattern, and kissed her cups, where her nipples would naturally rest. I then paid homage to her nipples, rolling them in my soft mouth. I put the bra on to Hannah, clipping it at the back and then helping her put her arms through the straps, adjusting them for comfort, and sliding the straps up over her shoulders.

The bra looked wonderful on her as her nipples were clearly visible under the fabric.

I turned to the panties now.

These were like a tanga brief in the same transparent material and I knew her depilated cunt would be clearly visible through the fabric, and hence why the deep waspie would give her some “modesty.” The tanga had ribbon tie-sides which would allow simple access to a roving finger to undo them, allowing the panties to easily fall away when the moment came for her to present her pussy and anus to Roger for his attention and ultimate pleasure.

It was too much for me and I went into homage mode kissing her gusset before kneeling on the floor to gently lick Hannah’s cunt as she reminded me that Roger would be, no doubt, fucking her in the rear and I needed to show my respect of her anus.

I was about to put her tanga panties on when Hannah stopped me. She went to the sex cupboard and pulled out a bag.

“Roger gave me these when I was at lectures yesterday and we are to wear them tonight to dinner. He got them from ‘Honour,’ apparently”

She pulled out two small, rubber-latex strips that had good sized double dildos welded off them.

These were designed for double entry and to sit inside our panties. Hannah gave me the accompanying lubricant and, before applying the lubricant, I honoured hers and re-emphasised my worship of where they were heading. I slowly inserted them into her, watching how her pussy and anus ingested them into their temporary homes.

I put her panties on, tightening the ties and then lacing up the fine ribbon threads of her waspie. Finally, I took the slender garters that had little black ribbons at the top of the garter and join to the ribbing of the waspie and hooked them to new, black, Wolford, lacy-topped stockings. Her lingerie looked magnificent and I could have made love to her on the spot. She wiggled to get her dildo intruders comfortable.

Hannah had me put my matching ensemble on, helping me with my waspie, congratulating me on my choice. I inserted my dildo strip, one into my anal pussy and the other into my vaginal tube that ran up over my gurl-clitoris. These certainly filled me up and I could sense what Hannah was experiencing.

It was going to be a little “uncomfortable” walking any distance in them.

We put on our outer clothing. Hannah in a low cut black part transparent shirt that clearly showed the top of her bra and even a hint of her nipples, a very short black patterned skirt that highlighted her stockings so that she was accessible to Roger’s hands, a black jacket with a narrow collar and lapel, and three inch high heels. I wore a grey silk blouse, a carbon grey short skirt and a black jacket from one of my female suits that had a slightly wider lapel finishing, plus two inch high heels so that we were the same height.

For jewellery, Hannah slipped on some gold bangles and her watch, and was about to put on her pearl necklace when I stopped her.

“Hannah, it is your choice, but if you wanted to completely offer yourself to Roger tonight, and from what you have told me about his dominant interests, you could wear my choker with the D rings on, and bring the chain leads for him for after dinner. You could still wear the necklace, if you wanted to.”

“Good idea, Clare. That is a very good idea.”

She put the choker on and left the necklace off, after trying it on. I put on my bangles and then my steel collar as a clear testament to my subservience in our relationship. We tidied up our make-up, sprayed ourselves with the same perfume and we were ready, except for our coats, Hannah with a black one and I was to wear a Burberry’s red one.

We poured a glass of wine and then tidied up the bed room, and laid out some candles. Hannah readied various sex toys, lubricants and oils, spreaders and cuffs, crops, the chains of our bedroom ceiling rings and some of Hannah’s used panties ready in their sealed bags, including Heather’s, as well as my hood. I admitted to Hannah that I was a little nervous and had butterflies bouncing in my stomach. Hannah said that she was too, but not to worry, she was in charge of me, but that I should obey anything that they demanded of me this evening.

The doorbell rang.

Hannah opened the door and stepped forward to greet Roger with a good kiss and he came in, saying that the cab was waiting and for us to grab our coats.

Hannah introduced me and Roger gave me a small kiss on my cheek.

He was some six foot one or two, mid to late thirties in look with dark blond, grey coloured hair, and sparkling, blue eyes. He was quite well built with broad shoulders and a rugged, chiselled face. He was wearing a blue Crombie coat and underneath there were signs of a nice sports jacket, green tie and beige slacks. He was also carrying his large brief case and he asked Hannah if it was ok to leave it the apartment while we went for dinner.

We grabbed our coats and he helped us into them, we, took our bags, locked up and headed out to the cab, but only to go around the park to one of our favourite Italian restaurants.

We entered the restaurant, greeted the owner and he showed us to a corner table where Hannah sat between the two of us on the padded half-moon bench.

It was a typical restaurant of its kind, simple tablecloths and table-wear, nicely candle lit and decorated with copies of Italian paintings around the white walls. We ordered the wine, or rather Roger did, and then we chose our food, Hannah and I went for the fettuccine carbonara along with green side salads and Roger chose an osso bucco, one of the house specialities.

Our conversation started around the University, and then turned to what Roger had been up to at home and some background to his family, finishing with how Heather had been gone for this week, leaving the house in a mess with all her and a guest laundry and clean-up to do this weekend while she was away.

Slowly, the chat drifted on to the topic of Hannah and me, and then some of my history which he found fascinating. During this chat, our food was served and it was as good and hearty as normal, and we enjoyed an excellent Zaccagnini Montepulciano d' Abruzzo Tralcetto, and ordered a second bottle.

The plates were cleared and we were offered the menu for desserts; we all opted for their home-made tiramisu. While we were waiting for it to come, Hannah suggested that I should get under the table and render her nasal homage. I complied and slipped under the tablecloth and in between Hannah’s stockinged legs as she hiked her skirt up to give me more access.

I could not help but notice that her right hand was running over Roger’s crotch, teasing him into a substantial bulge and, by the way they were angled above me, they were enjoying an intimate kiss, mouth to mouth.

The progress to seeing Hannah physically taken by Roger had well and truly begun.

Rather excitedly, I brought my nose up to Hannah’s tanga panties, hiding discreetly underneath her black waspie, my hands on her silky stockings. I could see her cunt behind its semi-transparent fabric, clearly excited, her clit already swollen and wanting stimulation, her labial lips beginning their long journey to sexual satisfaction that night.

There was a little damp patch coming through, indicating to me that she already wanted Roger in her very much.

I focused on that, taking in her smell but it was partly masked by the latex scent of Roger’s preparatory dildos in her, which if like mine, she would be feeling in her, playing their pre-sex role in widening her cunt and anus ready to receive him in there.

I gently nibbled at her damp patch and felt her push forward on me, seeing her hand clasp on Roger’s hard cock a little more. I heard her moan softly into Roger’s mouth.

I was summonsed up just before dessert arrived, and corrected her skirt before rising back up to my seat. Roger smiled as he gave her another mouth probing kiss. Dessert was good and we moved onto espressos, we needed a couple of these in us, as the night was likely to be a long one. After our first one, Hannah suggested that she needed a pee and wanted me to go with her, so we rose, as did Roger in politeness, and went to the Ladies.

In the Ladies, we went into one of the booths and Hannah pulled her skirt up.

“God, Clare, I am so wanting his marvellous dick in me. I need to clear my pee for later. Could you help me?”

I dropped to my knees and undid her ties on her tangas and allowed them to fall away into my hands.

“Clare, take out my front dildo a little bit with your teeth.”

I obeyed her, and managed to secure it in my mouth to clear the holding strip clear of her urethra so she could pee. She sat down on the toilet and let her pee stream out into the toilet receptacle, washing around the dildo on its downward passage.

“I would have loved for you to take my pee, but that would have soaked you. You can

toilet paper me though with your tongue.

Hannah stood up and I went to work and licked her pussy and the dildos dry of her urine. I re-fixed her rubber cock with my teeth and then re-tied her panties and straightened her skirt. It was my turn and I sat having my pee as Hannah asked me what I thought of Roger.

“Well he seems very nice, perhaps a little academic, but he does like you and you him and I can see why you want an older man like him. Never mind the experience he offers, but it’s his brain, a counterpoint to me perhaps as well.”

“That’s observational of you. Perhaps I get the best of both worlds, Clare, your oral skills and subservience and his straight manliness and dominance.”

“Well, I haven’t seen too much of that yet, but it is still early. He does like your choker though and the suggestion that you are offering yourself to him, and I noticed him staring down mine.”

“Yes, he is quite intrigued by you, and I think that you may be in for more than I have bargained for this evening.”

We finished washing our hands and with a quick make-up check and perfume, we headed back to the table. Roger rose to greet us. Our second coffees and a refill of wine were waiting for us.

Our chat between us turned more risqué now that we were refreshed. Roger started asking us about my beating and treatment and how I had enjoyed his wife’s panties. Hannah encouraged me to be frank with him and I described her aroma and how it compared to Hannah’s and others, and how I had worn her panties that morning to go shopping for our lingerie.

Roger laughed at this and complimented us on our dress and what glimpses he had seen of it already. I could see that his hand was wandering under Hannah’s short skirt and probably teasing her vulva. One hand also came over and undid two buttons on her blouse, revealing more of her breasts, and I could even get a glimpse of one of her pert nipples under its semi-transparent bra “restraint.”

At one point, he gave her another long kiss, taking advantage of undoing a third button on her blouse, which meant she was open to nearly her tummy so her bra was now clearly visible to all, as well as the top of her waspie. He slipped his hand in her blouse to feel her breast and tease her left nipple.

He suggested that I too undid three buttons too, and to finger my cunt. In fact, Hannah was already doing that, running her left hand over my stockinged leg and up under my pulled-up skirt to my panties, her right hand also frotting Roger through his twill slacks.

Hannah suggested that we ought to be heading back, otherwise she would have him under the table. Roger smiled and said ok but he asked one more question of me and that surprised me:

“Has Hannah ever been whipped or beaten, Clare?”

I said that she had not been in the time that I had known her and had never expressed any desire in that direction.

“Oh well, we may have to correct that,” was his comment.

He ordered the bill and settled it with an “Access” credit card.

As he paid up, he asked the waiter if they had a large plastic bag that they could give him. We got up from the table and went to button our blouses. Roger chided us, saying he wanted us to leave the restaurant in this dishevelled state and to carry our coats, not wear them. We could put those on outside.

So there we were, walking through the restaurant, revealing a little more to the clientele than we perhaps would have naturally been inclined to show.

Outside the restaurant, Hannah went to put her coat on but Roger said not to do that for the moment. He took us both by the hand and walked down the street with us still revealing more than we should. He mentioned that he wished he had some chains to snap on to our collars.

Hannah admitted we had two with us and lifted them out of her bag to give him. We walked on another twenty yards and he turned and marched us into this less well-lit alleyway.

Roger pushed us both up against the wall and gave Hannah a long kiss.

“Ok, you two, I want you to both take off your blouses and skirts and put them in this bag.”

Hannah looked at him in amazement.

“Now, you two. And if you don’t obey, Hannah, you don’t get to feel my hard cock in you tonight. Your choice.”

Hannah looked at him again but began to comply, firstly undoing the button on her skirt and letting it slide down her legs.

She pulled it off, put it in the bag and then started undoing her blouse sleeve buttons followed by her two remaining tummy buttons. I couldn’t believe that she would do this and I followed suit. She slipped off her blouse off, as I did, and these also went into Roger’s bag. Roger looked us up and down, admiring our near nakedness under our impressive underwear.

“Wow, I wasn’t expecting to see the two of you in matching lingerie, and expensive lingerie at that which leaves little to the imagination.”

He moved in close on the two of us and fingered our pussies.

“Good girls, you are wearing your preparation dildos, hopefully you will feel these playing on your orifices as we walk through the streets of London, readying you for me. Now, I am going to put your chains on you collars and Clare, you will wear these.”

He lifted into his pocket, took out a small sealed bag, opened it and pulled out a pair of pink hi-sides and put my head in them, nose to the gusset. They were another pair of Heather’s and full of her intimate aroma. This done, he took our coats and gave Hannah my chain and the he pulled at hers, taking us out into the street.

“I know it is a little cold, but this will make your nipples harder for me. We are going to do a little walking to start with.”

Here we were, virtually naked in our semi-transparent lingerie being led down a well-lit London street in chains and me with my head clearly ensconced in pink panties. He deliberately let about eight people see us, a couple wolf-whistling, before he led us into the Park and some darkness that gave us some relative comfort. He made us carry on walking for another ten minutes before stopping and allowing us to put our coats on. We walked out to the edge of the Park and he suggested that I remove Heather’s panties and put them in my pocket.

He hailed a classic black London taxi down and we climbed in and sat down.

“The Churchill Hotel in Portman Square, please.”

The cabbie pulled away from the kerb with me sitting on the “jump” seat with my back to the driver’s toll machine, and facing Roger and Hannah.

“Put Heather’s panties back on to smell them, Clare.”

We started heading around Regent’s Park to get to Baker Street and then the mile plus drive down to Portman Square. Roger started kissing Hannah again and had his hands inside her coat to frot her clitoris. She was responding to this and the smell of her sex started to pervade the sealed back seat area.

We reached Portman Square and on the south side, the Selfridges end of the square, where Roger indicated to the cabbie to pull over as we would enter the hotel by the back door, near the “Greenery” and the “Number Ten” bar and restaurant.

He had also indicated for me to remove Heather’s panties and put them in my coat pocket once again.

We descended from the taxi and Roger paid up the fee. We crossed the road and into Seymour Street. Outside the back entrance into the Churchill he let our chains hang down our bodies, inside our coats.

“OK, girls, I am going to walk around to the main door, which is just next to the reception, and I want you two to walk through the back door in a minute and come out by the main entrance, and then hail a taxi from the bellboy. You may have to wait in the queue for two or three minutes for one at this time of night. When you have a cab, I shall come out and join you.”

He then added:

“You have your coats on over your lingerie and chain, but I expect you both to spend at least half the time with them wide open in full view as you walk through the main lobby of this five star hotel, and in the wait for the cab. I now suggest you wait for me to get into position to see you. That will take a minute or two and you can use the time by kissing each other like the pair of lesbians that you are.”

Roger left us. We looked at each other in amazement and Hannah said,

“We had better do what he says then.”

She stepped inside my coat and we kissed breast to breast and dildo-ed pussy mound to pussy mound. Two or three minutes past as her tongue passionately explored my mouth. I could taste Roger on her.

Then we set forth in through the doors, “hearts in hand” and walked slowly through the lobby both holding each other’s hands tightly, both with our coats wide open for all to see us.

We made just the two “cover-ups”, near their Sunken Lounge and then on exiting the main doors to get the bell boy to make his whistle call for our cab. We stood on line with everything showing to any car sweeping through the covered driveway. At one point Hannah turned and kissed me,

“My God, they probably can see my wet pussy and its clear outline if they look carefully.”

Certainly her nipples were standing on end, protruding through the fabric of her bra, wanting to burst through.

It was about four minutes before our taxi pulled in. Roger stepped out, the cabbie passenger door opened and two men got out as we stood there completely exposed to them. To the cabbie, we would have appeared as being in our coats. We climbed aboard, Roger sitting facing the driver, Hannah on his left and I sat on the jump seat, this time behind the driver at Roger’s behest.

“I want to go down Oxford Street from Hyde Park Corner to Oxford Circus, and then swing north to Primrose Hill, driver. I want to show my guests Oxford Street and the shops at night, as they probably will head there tomorrow.”

We pulled away and turned left as we came out of the Churchill. Roger whispered,

“Ok, girls, slide you coats off now and Clare, Heather’s panties back on you.”

Roger now turned his attention back on Hannah, with me sitting square in front of them, kissing her hard and firstly massaging her breasts. As we got half way down Oxford Street and outside the John Lewis store, he started to rub his fingers heavily over her cunt lips and then, taking her rubber strip through her panties gusset, started to make a small fucking motion with them into her, within the constraints of her black panties.

Hannah, by now, had her legs lewdly apart affording me, or the driver if he was to look back, a clear view of this erotic frigging of her. Meanwhile his wife’s scent continued to build me up.

We reached Oxford Circus and then Euston Road. We were about to cross over to reach Regent’s Park at the Park Square Gardens. At a red light where we were held up, Roger pulled Hannah across onto his lap and said,

“Hannah, we are soon going into Regent’s Park and around it anti-clockwise to get back to your apartment. I want you to give me a successful blow job by the time we reach your place. And you will not swallow too much or spill any as, once out of the cab, you are to feed Clare with my cum.”

Hannah looked lovingly up at him, and her hand went to his zip, pulling it down and releasing his cock.

My god!

Even in the night lights of London, I could see that he was enormous and with the substantial head that Hannah had described.

She quickly went down on him, filling her mouth as best she could, and started to bob her head up and down, masturbating him with her mouth and throat, teasing him to come in her. This was all incredibly lewd but very sexy, as it was happening right in front of me. I too was well turned on.

Somewhere around the north-east end of Prince Albert Road, he came, sending his torrent of sperm deep into Hannah’s mouth. She sucked him in as if to hold all of it in her and moved off him to concentrate on what she had to do in holding it in her, the sperm washing its creamy saltiness around her mouth. Roger sorted himself out, zipped up, and suggested I re-pocketed Heather’s panties.

The cab pulled into the kerb in front of our apartment and Roger got out, carrying the bag with our clothes and our coats. We couldn’t give a damn now who saw us, as we were both very hot. Behind the cab, and with Roger partly blocking the cabbie’s direct line of sight, Hannah pulled on my chain to reel me into her and offered me her mouth. There we were, half-naked but identically dressed in stunning black lingerie, sharing her man’s sperm in our mouths, fresh sperm that she had taken in as her first course to being sated by him.

It was going to be a long night.

Roger came back and what a sight we must have made for him, with his sperm dribbling from our mouths. He said nothing but picked up both chains and led us inside to the apartment.

Hannah ordered me to open a bottle of white wine and to pour us three glasses. A nicely chilled glass helped us all to regroup and recharge for what was to come. There was now an erotic sizzle of sexual expectation in the air and I was starting to look forward to seeing my dominant lover being taken by this man, to serve them both and, ultimately, to intensify her pleasure and control over me.

Hannah moved over the sofa to sit on Roger’s lap, feeling his hardening cock at the back of her bottom as she let her head fall back, and her mouth opened to allow him to probe her with his tongue.

Unashamedly, she opened her legs wide and thrusted her pussy upwards, giving Roger a clear view of the outline of her panties and the bulge of the dildo strip lodge in her, again which was exciting her.

His finger started to dance over her pantied mound, under the lower hem of her waspie.

“I want you in me, Roger.”

“Soon, darling, soon. We need to prepare Clare.”

They carried on kissing and frotting. I could see Hannah was very damp. However, Roger stopped, moved Hannah off him, and rose from the sofa. He went for his bag.

“Come on girls, to your bedroom. Clare, bring Heather’s pink panties with you.”

Hannah took him by the hand and led him through, Roger still carrying his bag, and with me following behind them. His eyes opened wide when he saw the candle-lit room, set up with various accessories and especially the restraining chains hanging down from the ceiling. I could see him taking this sight in and how best to exploit the situation.

“Hannah, put the cuffs on Clare and make her sit on her knees on the edge of the bed and chain her hands up so that they are above her. Then put Heather’s pink panties in her mouth to muffle her when she screams.”

Hannah obeyed her new boyfriend and I found myself quickly put into this position, bouncing on the end of the chain with Heather’s out-turned panties gagging my mouth, making me taste her. Roger went into his bag and brought out a sealed bag, this time with two pairs of black high sides, which he proceeded to show me carefully - they were plain black around the gusset and side panels, but then were made of a semi-transparent mesh on the front panel that would have covered Heather’s mons pubis.

The same was true for the back of the panties themselves and I could see the gussets were heavily marked with her hormone-laced secretions.

To Hannah he said:

“Don’t you use an old stocking or something to tie them tight on to her?”

Hannah responded by going to pull out a couple of pairs of old stockings that we used for such purposes. Roger moved to slip the first pair of panties on me,

“Clare, they aren’t Heather’s. They belong to Iona, my younger sister, who is staying with me at the moment. She is a very pretty dark haired 30 year old, and she is a lesbian; I am sure that she would love Hannah to trade you to her for a few days. I think she has worn these for two or three days at least, as I deliberately have not set off the washing machine for the female laundry and there were four pairs buried deep in the basket, probably from the ten days she has been with us.”

This jolted me and immediately my nose picked up on a very strong, tart secretion.

As I took this in, Roger slipped the second pair over me backwards so that my eyes were covered by the fabric that had covered Iona’s bottom. Visually the effect was like looking through fine black netting. I could see but things were a little opaque.

“Hannah, put her hood on now and she is ready to be beaten by us. Imagine walking around London in that state and with my wife’s panties over her nose. Next time we will make her walk Oxford Street in that perverted state.”

Hannah put my hood on and padlocked it underneath so that it could not be moved by me. She opened the eye mask and my mouth to as to be able to take in extra air through Iona’s panties. I was squirming now and felt very aroused. In the time that Hannah was doing this, Roger went back into his bag and pulled out two paddles. I had not seen these before; they were larger than a table tennis bat but designed with holes in to allow the air to flow through easier, and hence to pass through the air with less resistance on the slap.

“Lower her panties now, but do not take them off, Hannah.”

Roger handed Hannah one of the paddles.

“Show me how you beat her when she needs discipline.”

Hannah started her Sophie technique, small teasing slaps on one of my globes and then the fifth was a heavy slap that I knew would redden my bottom. The slap itself wasn’t too hard and certainly not like the crop or cane in intensity. She did this for three full cycles across my bottom before I suddenly felt a much sharper smack that had me gagging and deeply ingesting both of Roger’s women’s intimate excretions.

Roger started working my right globe and Hannah my left one, the pain was in the cumulative effect across me and then taken up a notch by Roger’s occasional really hard whack across both buttocks.

I was getting pretty sore when Roger then suggested adding some crop marks to me. Hannah started, raining four well-spaced welts on to me, two on each buttock. She handed the crop over to Roger and he hit me with four more. They then repeated this and I was nearly in tears now from the intense pain surging through me, though mitigated by the sharp intake of pussy and anal smells surging into me on each stroke.

“Hannah, let the chain slacken and I want Clare with her bottom up in the air to take my remaining strokes. She will then have something to think about while I fuck you for the first time in front of her.”

Hannah slackened the chain and pushed me forward over a large pillow under my tummy, getting me to elevate my bottom. Roger took the crop and teased me with the tag before sending in a crunching blow using his height and strength. This really hurt, the pain jarring straight through me overruling my sensual delights. Eight times he came down on me before Hannah released me from the ceiling chain. She undid my wrists and pulled up my panties.

As I got off the bed, Hannah instructed me to sit in the bedroom chair and fixed a long chain between my collar and the bed frame, so I could not leave the bedroom. I was really sore but only comforted by the exotic world that I was in.

Roger moved over to Hannah, right in front of me, and started to kiss her, playing with her nipples through her bra and then darting down to her cunt. Deliberately he played with her clitoris and upper lips right in front of me. He stepped back and ordered her to remove her panties and give them to him. She obeyed and slipped them off, gave them to him and he sniffed them.

“Hannah, no wonder Clare loves your scent, you are so wet as well. You want me in you?”

Hannah nodded.

“Say it, Hannah, You want me and where?”

“Oh I want you in me, Roger, in both my cunt and my arse. I just want you to fill me with your sperm and make me yours.”

Roger stripped down and now I can see the fullness of what he offered. As Hannah said, he was approaching eight inches length with a very substantial girth, perhaps nearly six inches round, along with a huge circumcised head. No wonder she was in love with this cock. I would be. To go with it he had two massive balls and only covered in the lightest sheen of pubic hair. His bottom was firm and tight to, and his stomach was flat.

His looks may have been ok, but here was an Adonis underneath.

Hannah watched him too, her mouth and her cunt salivating at what was to come.

“Not yet, Hannah, you too have been a slut tonight, walking down the street and through the Churchill hotel, looking like a prostitute inviting sex from anybody who would care to pay for and use your body. You need to be put in bondage too.”

Hannah looked at him, more in curiosity and possibly in the knowledge that she would have to wait a little longer to be fucked by him in front of me, effectively cuckolding me.

I also think she was wondering what was he going to use for the bondage.

Roger went back into his bag and pulled out another set of cuffs, very close to the ones we used, and both matching ankle and wrist ones. He put these on her as she was standing there, using small padlocks to secure them on her. My goodness me, she was being reduced to a submissive in front of me, but obviously I was hers and she was his.

Roger lifted her wrists above her, hooked them together and then took the ceiling chain and locked that on to her. She was now in a similar position to the one I had been in. However, he then chained her ankle cuffs to our bed-frame, forcing her legs wide open for him.

Back to the bag he went, and he emerged with yet another sealed bag. I could see that it was clearly marked “For Hannah.”

He took the contents out and there were three panties in there, one like Iona’s panties that I was currently wrapped in, and two white silky briefs. He held up the Iona ones and showed them to Hannah, saying nothing. He then moved on to the first of the white ones and showed her the details of the gusset and turned it inside out and gagged her. Hannah spluttered but then calmed down. The second pair, he again showed her its contents and taunted her nose with them and slipped the brief over her head.

She was just like me now.

“These are Marianne’s, Hannah. She is the girly friend of Iona’s, somewhat similar to your Clare I suspect, but she is a girl.”

He tightened it off on her, taking a stocking from his bag and then, to my astonishment, he produced a hood.

“This is pretty close to the one that you got Clare, Hannah. If you remember I questioned you closely about it last time. You too are going be very much my depraved, perverted, sex slave tonight.”

Firstly, he put the Iona style panties over her head, back to front to partly mask her sight, just like with me. They were indeed Iona’s, an unused pair. Secondly he put the hood on. It fitted her snugly and he locked it off. He removed the blindfold, this one being secured by heavy duty straps. Over her mouth, he placed the hood’s other accessory, a mouth piece strap with a built in penile gag that pushed the panties back into her mouth.

He raised the chain and Hannah was now standing on tiptoes on our bed, trussed as I was, and ready to be beaten; she was nearly side on to me as I looked at her, but I could still see her left buttock - especially when she moved around.

Here we were, almost identical submissive women in the presence of a highly dominant boyfriend of the more senior of the two of us, who herself naturally was a caring domme.

Roger started with a long caressing of her bottom and her pussy, manipulating the dildos that were still in her and sharply tweaking her erect nipples, still in their bra cups. How much more of this could she stand?

He took the paddle and repeated the action that Hannah had done to me, four soft strokes and then a firm one on one buttock and then a repetition on the other one. And every four cycles he would rain in two heavy strokes onto her. I could see Hannah struggling as she went through the same erotic experience I had undergone, taking in this unknown Marianne’s intimate scent as her Roger pummelled her.

Her cute bottom soon reddened up in front of me, giving me a glimpse of what mine was probably looking like as I sat there uncomfortably, but fascinated in what my beloved was enduring.

Finally, Roger switched to the crop. He had given Hannah a couple of minutes respite, checking that she was ok, just being able to see her eyes through her semi-transparent Arabic-like pantied veil behind the eye holes of the hood.

“I am intending to beat you hard now, darling. However, I do know that you don’t have the experience of Clare in this. Grunt once if you are ok with me continuing, twice if you want me to stop.”

Hannah grunted just the once.

“Move your chair more around to watch your girlfriend’s bottom, Clare.”

I did. Roger started by once more caressing Hannah’s mound and bottom and playing with her nipples, tweaking them hard.

“Next time, I will clamp those off or make you wear suction tubes on them, Hannah.”

He took the crop and repeated what had just been delivered on me, light strokes, then a hard one that immediately left a red welt on her bronzed bottom. I could feel her jump forwards on impact, taking in Marianne’s perfumes once again as I took in Iona’s. Roger worked six strokes across her, three welts nicely placed on each buttock.

Instead of lowering her onto the pillow as I had been done, Roger left her in the same position and took the cane to her to finish her off, placing four long stroke marks on the diagonal to her crop welts. I knew that she was suffering with this as she was struggling forward, her bottom bouncing more before the stroke came in.

“It’s over now, darling, well done, you shall have your reward, but now you know how your submissive gurl feels.”

He caressed her bottom again, helping to soothe the pain, throbbing through her.

“Clare, over here onto the bed and kneel in front of me.”

I moved the chair up to give me more room to move with the chain that I was attached to and climbed onto the covers to kneel before this man, still very hard in front of me.

He came to my hood and pushed the panties over my mouth up under the hood leather so my mouth was clear,

“Under your Hannah and prepare her orally to receive me. She can pre-cum but she will save her major orgasm for me.”

I climbed under Hannah’s legs and looked upwards though my own pantied veil.

Roger undid Hannah’s chain fastening and lowered her slowly towards my face, pausing about three or four inches above me. I could see her dildos wedged in Roger’s destinies and I knew she had cum a few times by the intense smell of her sex streaming down and over me, even through Iona’s gusset partly covering my nose.

“Remove her dildos with your mouth, Clare.”

I reached up to her cunt one first and pulled back downwards. It started to expel itself. I switched to the rear one and repeated the action. Back to the first one and this time a sticky stream of cum juice exuded from her cunt, straight into my mouth, its familiar taste offset by the rubbery invasion of her. I pulled on her anal one again and out it came, surprisingly wet with excitement fluids. Her pussy one, attached to the rubber strip of its mate, naturally popped out and fell over me as Roger lifted in and removed it, lowering Hannah that bit more so she was now queening me.

I licked gently over her clitoris, down her lips to her pussy entrance and then her perineum and back up, as if I was cleaning her. I explored her little folds that I now knew so well, getting her ready to be well and truly fucked in front of me. Hannah wasn’t in the throes of an orgasm but I just didn’t know how many she had had to that point. She was in a state that I had never seen her before, liberally juicing herself in a continual flow. Her cream nectar was everywhere, highlighted by the white froth all over her lips and perineum. A major orgasm was due.

Roger raised the chain again, pulling her sharply off me and he ordered me out from under her and into the kneeling position on the edge of the bed.

“Now prepare me to enter your Hannah, Clare.”

He presented his massive cockhead to my mouth and I let him slide into me to the back of my throat, sucking him in. He began to stiffen hard in my mouth and I just kneeled there and let him throat fuck me, his head in particular filling my throat. This was the first man I had in me since I had been with John.

John was well endowed but, with Roger…

Well this was another dimension of manhood pleasure to savour.

“Ok, Clare I am ready to take Hannah now. This is what will happen. I am giving you the chain and you are to lower her onto my cock and, at the same time, you will guide my cock into her as an acceptance that you are giving me to her, for my enjoyment, use and abuse, and her pleasure for the rest of the night.”

He lifted into my mouth and pulled down the Iona’s panties from my nose so that they were taut over me again and then Roger gave me her chain connected up through the ceiling ring to her wrists.

“Before you start, you will clean her up afterwards, and feed on both our cum, so as to prep her for my next fucking of her. Understand?”

“Yes Roger.”

“At some point tonight, I will release you from your chain and you will sleep in the guest room as you are now. There is another pair of Heather’s well used panties in my bag that you may wish to put on, but you will keep your dildos in you all night, as you will keep your hood and Iona’s panties on.”

Roger climbed onto the bed and lay down, Hannah facing him, standing up.

“Lower her very slowly down onto me so that her haunches hurt and want me, Clare, and then guide me into what was once your cunt to use and now is mine.”

I did as I was told and very slowly released the chain.

As Hannah’s cunt got to within three inches of Roger’s throbbing cock, I held onto the chain with my left hand and held Hannah in a stationary position. After taking his cock into my right hand, I tantalisingly let the chain out again and lowered her right onto the tip of his huge cock head.

She was oozing receptive and welcoming cum now.

I inched his cock into position and I released the chain, allowing her to slide right onto him. I heard a muffled gasp as he filled her love channel right up. I stepped back to my seat.

Roger took Hannah by her hips and started to fuck her, pushing her up on his shaft and letting her down. It was only a matter of seconds before they released on each other, a stream of ejaculation shooting out from between them. Hannah slumped in ecstasy on the chain, her hips thrashing in the orgasm that was blowing her brain, clamping herself around Roger, and riding him to extract every bit of sperm she could get into her.

Roger wasted no time, withdrawing quite quickly from her and offering me his now glistening dick.

“Quickly, Clare, clean me up and then Hannah. After that, I want you to release her from the ceiling chain. Position her over the pillow and present her bottom to me. I’ll secure her wrists to the bed. Then guide me into her again and I will take her from the rear, so she can really feel my length invade and pleasure her.”

I pushed my head into Hannah’s love crevice and she was soaking in their now mixed cum, as if she had been in a rain-storm. I quickly lapped up as much as I can and then prepared her as instructed.

Once more, a hard Roger came up behind her and I took his cock and guided it home into Hannah, she was still in spasms from his first take of her.

This time, he really fucked her.

It was some ten minutes of hard fucking that had her groaning and screaming into Marianne’s panties, as she built up to an even bigger orgasm than twenty minutes ago. When she came, she all but fainted and, quickly, we released her from her hood and gags to recover and take in air.

I had never seen her that aroused and she admitted afterwards that she had been right at her limit of sexual excitement.

A drink of water, followed by the wine, and she was fine.

She admitted that she loved being in the hood and asked for Roger and I to re-bind and re-hood her, complete with Marianne’s panties as before, so that she could be taken to the limit again by him.

With her duly constrained and locked in like a sex slave, we put her back over the pillow, this time using Hannah’s spreader to open her legs for the impending penetration that she would experience.

Roger inserted a butt plug into her anus to prepare her there and I again fluffed her clitoris, lips and cunt passage to arouse her love juices for his re-entrance into her arse, and possibly later her pussy.

As Hannah waited, he had me blow him in front of her, letting her see how hard I was getting him for her and enabling her to become even wetter. I then had to lubricate him and guide him home to make her anus yet another possession in front of me.

With this Roger indicated I should head to the other bedroom and I took Heather’s panties and headed next door, leaving them to fuck the night away.

And fuck they did as I could clearly hear their sounds, especially when Roger had removed her gags.

Life had changed.

True, Hannah owned me as her love gurl, but she had now a sex boyfriend to keep her cunt satisfied and bathed in cum every so often that she or he needed pleasing.

Though I too would revel in that as well.

END OF VOLUME-ONE

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