The door at the end of the room opened. The Girl held it open and the man entered, clapping slowly, loudly, ironically.
“Get her down from there”, he said “All of you, go stand with your noses to the wall, – he indicated the wall beside the door he had entered through. “Tallest on the right, shortest on the left”.
They did as bid. One, Two and Three waited for Five to hobble over and take her place at the left of the line. The man took hold of her and moved her into the space next to One “That’s where you would be if none of you were wearing shoes”.
“You go everywhere in this order unless I say otherwise”, he told them.
“Right, Girl, the marker”.
“One, five demerits for releasing the rope. Twenty demerits for pleasuring herself. Ten demerits for contributing to the overall chaos”.
One felt The Girl carefully mark seven groups of slashes on her buttock.
“Five. One merit for helping Two to come. Five merits for taking the rope off Two’s throat. Ten demerits for general sloppiness”.
The Girl marked Five. Two groups of five black strokes and six red slashes.
“Two. Ten demerits for taking part and not paying due care and attention. Ten demerits for opening your mouth when you came”.
“Three. The standard ten, and ten for not concentrating on what you were doing. Five for letting your balls drop”.
“All of you – a further ten demerits for dropping my whiskey”.
The Girl went along the line again marking their skin.
“Three, fill yourself please. One – go with my girl and get the cleaning materials. Five – my girl will show you the kitchen, you are washing up. Three and Two, help the others”.
It took about half an hour to set everything to rights. The girl, naked but for a tailored red apron, then busied them back down into the basement.
The Girl ushered them into the barred room with the camp beds. “There’s a big potty there if anyone needs it in the night. And if you need water it’s over there” – she indicated the the left of the door where four water dispensers, the kind rabbits use, had been wired to the bars.
“One, I have to handcuff you – he thinks you’ll be fingering yourself again”. The girl turned One around and, taking a pair of heavy, antique handcuffs from the end of one of the beds she cuffed her, unscrewing the key so One was secure. The key was on a leather lanyard. She draped that over Two’s neck. “There”, said The Girl “You are responsible for her good behaviour – and safety”.
“Two, come here please and present yourself”. Two looked confused.
“That means stick your pussy out dear”. The Girl knelt, took some shears from the pocket of her apron and delicately snipped the stitches holding two’s labia together, pulling the threads gently out of her skin. She took a sachet from the apron pocket and tore it, taking out a sterile wipe to rub over Two’s sore parts.
The Girl made sure they all emptied their holes and placed their plugs, balls and shoes in their little sacks. then she chivvied them into their sleeping bags. She went along the row and kissed them all goodnight. When she came to Three the kiss became a snog: “It’s not because you are special, it’s because you need to get used to girls”, she said, holding the woman’s chin firmly as Three drew back.
The Girl stepped back through the bars and locked the grill shut. She placed the key in a screwtop jar on the floor just inside reach on the far side of the gate, next to a small torch. “Just for emergencies dears – there will be hell to pay if you use it otherwise”.
The Girl blew them a kiss and retreated. She called “Night” at the top of the stairs before switching off the light and closing the basement door.
The women looked at the man. and at Two, who was trying to speak. She spluttered, realising just how effective a gag she’d been given. She’d never not been able to speak through a gag before but realised the jeopardy of two crystal decanters full of precious brandy and whiskey made all the difference. If she failed to grip with her teeth everything could come crashing down. She suspected that would be worth way more than five demerits. Whatever a demerit was.
“Hush” The man looked down at Two. “Nothing you have to say is of any worth now. You are just a sewn-up cunt that must be made to come. I’m interested in how your friends do it. Not in what it does to you”.
“Keep the legs apart” he said taking the ropes the Girl had been pulling on and handing one to Five and the other to One.
The man took The Girl by the hand and they left the room.
One, Three and Five looked at each other and again at Two.
“Guess it’s down to you” One said to Three, “We’ve got ropes to tend”.
Two could see nothing but the chandelier suspended over her. She could feel nothing but the weight of the gag. She could hear Three protest, panic in her voice: “I’ve never touched a woman”. “You’ve touched yourself haven’t you?” one of the others said. “Okay – let’s just say I don’t want to touch another woman”. “That’s instant failure” said the other voice: “Do you really think he’ll want someone who can’t touch his girl. Train home for you in the morning”.
Two just wanted them to get on with it. She wanted to come. Couldn’t they see her stretching and gripping the edge of the table? She knew she could come right now. She could feel it building inside her. It had been building since the first push, pop and pull of the needle through her flesh. She’d only been terrified for an instant before the needle touched her. Since then she’d just wanted to come. She was all mixed up as to why though. It wasn’t the pain – though that’d been good. It was more that she felt chosen and humiliated at the same time. Humiliated because she hadn’t been able to hold in her steel balls, chosen because she had been the first to get his personal attention.
Three was thinking. She was sure the man would be watching. She looked up at the CCTV cameras in the corners of the room.
‘In for a penny’ She thought: “Right – well, if I can’t do this I’d be pretty useless helping him with his girl” she said out loud. She used the thumb and forefinger of one hand to part the top of Two’s flaps and moistened a finger ready to apply to the clitty.
“He’s sewn over it” Two heard Three say.
“Try rubbing through her lips then” said another voice.
It was One that was doing all the talking. Five was just holding on to her rope and watching as Three placed he finger just below the top black knot in Two’s pussy, pushing Two’s labia left, over to where she thought the woman’s clitty might be.
Two wanted to push toward the probing finger but realised she would slide down the table if she did. She wanted Three to move her finger faster and straight up and down. She didn’t need warming up. But she couldn’t tell her. She tried pushing her pussy up and down but Two wasn’t taking any notice.
Then Three did speed up, Two didn’t care that she was quite dry under her sewn-together lips. She knew she was juicy, but being full and sewn meant there was no way her juices could help her. She was hot, her breath was short and gasping, she was stretching every muscle. She was right there. She was going to come. And then one of the man’s deft knots caught her right under the bottom of her clitoris as Three rubbed vigorously up and down. Instantly she wasn’t “there” anymore. It wasn’t agonising. Not really even painful. Just surprising enough to take her off the crest of a wave.
“Have you come?” Three spoke. “I don’t think she has” One said. Two shook her head, shaking the decanters just before she realised that a nod instead would have brought this to an end for all of them. A lie would have made it all so easy.
Five had a thought “Try putting your fingers down behind her pussy-lips. You can get at her clitty direct that way”. Three shook her head, “I’m facing the wrong way”. “Get on the table” said One.
Three crawled under the leg rope Five was holding, stood and clambered up onto a chair and then the table. She knelt over Two and, supporting herself with her left arm, pushed an experimental finger down between the neat line of stitches. “She’s dry”. Three raised her finger to her mouth. “There’s lube on the tray” said Five. One reached over and took the tube. she flipped open the lip and, with her other hand, stretched the stitched tunnel over Two’s clitty and hole as far up as she could. As she squeezed an unnecesarily large amount of gel onto her target she could see a steel ball peeking out of the woman’s vagina. She stretched a finger down and pushed it back in, releasing the labia and returning to gentle, rhythmic rubbing of the area around Two’s clitoris.
Five looked over at One. The tall, elegant girl had wrapped the end of the rope she was holding between her legs and was riding it. One closed her eyes, her lips parted. And reddened. “He didn’t say you”. “He didn’t say not”.
Three loved the feeling of Two’s constrained finger, which was moving faster and more firmly directly over her hood. She could feel herself stiffening, not just where Two was persistently rubbing but all over. She wanted to straighten her legs and her toes. She gripped the table even more firmly. Before she closed her eyes she saw Two lean forward over her to get a better angle on what she was doing. Then she felt Two’s weight and felt her begin to grind back and forth on Three’s chest.
Two was abandoning herself to the pure need that was mounting in her clitty and working to let it take over her mind when she felt a new sensation. Opening her eyes again Two carefully tilted her head to the left. She could see that Five had carefully moved around the table, taking care to keep her rope taut, and had leaned over to take Three’s left nipple into her mouth. Five’s suckling was frustratingly gentle.
She felt her right leg suddenly come free and, involuntarily, snapped it back tight against her left, trapping Three’s finger which was now moving over her bare clit, fast and hard.
Looking right she could see One, flushed and blushing, dip to take her other nipple into her mouth. She nipped it with her teeth and sucked hard taking in the entire nipple and aureole. It burned. To her left, Five had stopped sucking and was licking all around the base of Two’s other teat.
Two felt the heat spread through all of her body. She knew a few more strokes would bring that sudden explosion she needed. She knew that feeling of unquenchable need would, in a few seconds, be overcome with pulsing pleasure and then the feeling of completeness and satisfaction that was the real reward of orgasm. She could no longer help anything she did: Two pushed her head back into the unyielding tabletop and opened her mouth and laughed.
Instantly the rope gag flew out of her mouth. The weight of the two decanters snapped the thick rope cylinder over her chin and down onto her windpipe. It knocked the breath out of Two and made it near impossible to take air in. She came harder. A new, second peak. Her eyes bulged. “Help” she choked. Five hauled the rope up. Two leapt up off her chest, her cunt farting as she did and her steel balls plopping out, dropping onto Three’s tummy. The whiskey decanter swung wildly and smashed into the leg of a chair, leaving shards of glass and a peaty, smoky aroma rising from the oriental rug.
The Girl took an antiseptic wipe from a sachet and tenderly cleaned Two’s newly sewn up pussy, stroking away those few droplets of blood. One drop returned. She held the wipe firmly against it and then dabbed again, a few seconds later. The little bit of oozing stopped.
The man handed two latex gloves to each of the other three. “Put them on”.
“Turn her”, he ordered “so the cunt is facing my chair”. The Girl grabbed Two’s ankles and swung her through ninety degrees and then spread Two’s legs so the heels were as close to the table edges as Two could manage. “Rope” he said. The Girl headed for a large carved wooden chest at the end of the room opening the top and dragging out a weighty, well-studffed canvas sack. She undid the buckled leather tie at it’s neck and looked at the man. “Three four-metre lengths please. One eight millimetre diameter”.
The Girl rummaged and pulled out three short skeins of hemp, each with neatly sewn yellow whippings at each end. One length was substantially thicker than the other two. Each was in a Monkey Braid. He pulled the end out of the thicker length and it instantly fell loose.
He folded the rope in half and held it by its middle, marked, the girls noticed, by more yellow whipping. He made an “S” shape in the middle of the rope by folding about 20 centimetres of the rope back on itself either side of the marked midpoint. He began wrapping one piece of the rope tightly around the loop that dropped from his hand. When the wrapped section was about 15 centimetres long , he passed the length he’d coiled round the loop through the hole left in the end and then pulled it tight. He was left with a thick rope coil from which a metre length protruded from each side.
He laid the coiled centre in an abandoned bowl and told Three to fetch water and fill the bowl.
He pulled a second coil loose and folded it in half. he lay the loop against Two’s ankle and then placed two finger’s of Three’s hand between the rope and the ankle. He wrapped the looped rope around the ankle and the fingers twice, neatly and snugly . He took what was left of the looped end and held it across the wraps – pushing it underneath them and leaving the looped end protruding from under . He tied the loop and the remaining doubled length in a simple knot against the loops. He nodded to Three who took her fingers away. The ankle cuff restricted nothing – but was secure. In seconds, Two’s other ankle was similarly prepared. He passed the remaining length of each rope, still doubled, once around each ankle and down through the bight that protruded from each knot. He left the ends dangling down each side of the table.
He marched to the dresser at the far end of the room, picked up a pair of decanters and returned to the coil that had been soaking whilst the ankle-trussing was done. Deftly he roped the neck of each glass vessel to each end of the rope with the moistened coil.
He turned to The Girl: “Take her ankle ropes around the table legs and pull them tightish. Don”t let her close her legs whatever you do”.
He pushed Two back onto the table, gently supporting her head as he lay her flat on the bare oak boards. He stroked the neatly sewn labia as he looked into her eyes. “This is my best whisky and brandy. You wouldn’t go spilling it now, would you?”. Wide-eyed, Two shook her head.
The man took the coil from its dish and laid it across Two’s lips. “Bite” he said. She did. “Bite hard. Don’t let go”: he took the first decanter and lowered it over the side of the table carefully letting it hang.
The weight was more than she expected. Her jaw was easily strong enough to clamp on and ensure she didn’t drop his precious amber fluid. But keeping her head straight, at least for more than a few seconds, was damn near impossible. The weight of the gently swaying decanter pulled her head in its direction.
She gripped tightly with her teeth and tried to keep her head level, staring at the chandelier above and finding that the man’s hand was already by her ear, keeping her steady. “Three” He commanded “lower the brandy would you. Gently”. Three did as bid and Two found the increased weight easier to bear now it was pulling the coil gag straight down into her mouth and not just to one side. The cut glass bottles oscillated slightly and the coiled rope sawed gently on the edges of her mouth. She understood why he’d wetted the rope and knew that any movement she made would just make things worsT. “Grip the edge of the table” he suggested.
He pushed his chair back from the table. And rose. The Girl took position by his side, a hand on his shoulder.
He spoke: “Now girls, I’d like you to make her come”.
This chapter is dedicated to @Nitika_BG – welcome back you.
The man sent Two to stand at one of the room’s windows and told her to face out. From time to time she lent forward gently to support herself The cold of the pane hardened her nipples but she couldn’t stand it for long and found herself standing unsupported again. She heard the man speak and one of the other girls came and put her hands on her buttocks. “Stand like that” her companion said. And stay still. That is what he wants”.
Two sometimes caught distorted reflections of the other girls bustling past her to serve at table. Time passed. She was rocking gently now. She thought about what she had volunteered for and became instantly less drowsy. She heard the man’s booted feet on the parquet floor. He stopped behind her. “Not long now” he said. And to the others: “Clear away the table and make places for yourselves at the end near the door – and help yourselves from the sideboard. You may talk”. He walked out of the room. A moment or two later she heard his footsteps overhead,
Here returned a few moments later. He took Two’s hand: “Come with me my dear” He led her to his end of the table, where The Girl was sitting with a white leather bag on her lap. He moved his own chair away and lifted her, sitting her on the edge of the table. The room had fallen silent.
“Face the other way and carry on” He told the other candidates. “Can’t we look, please?” came a voice. “This isn’t for your titillation” He said. More quietly “who said that?”.
Five put her hand up. “5 demerits” he said, reaching into his pocket and sliding a black felt tip up the table. “Someone mark up her arse”. Three took the pen and Five unsteadily rose and presented a buttock for the marker.
The man smiled at Two and rose, taking her shoulders with one arm and pushing her prone on the tabletop with the other. For a second she could see The Girl fussing over the zip to the white leather bag.
“Put your feet on the edge of the table and move them as far apart as you can” he instructed “This won’t take long”.
The room was still pin-drop quiet.
He ran a finger between her labia, twisting it slightly to separate them. He came to her hole and pushed gently, adding a second finger and pushing the walls apart.
He raised the fingers to his nose. “You’re smelly. You want sex too much”.
Her stepped back. The Girl appeared. She ripped open a sterile wipe with
surgically-gloved hands and thoroughly rubbed Two’s lips and the areas around and between. Then the man was there too, smiling down at her holding two pairs of ring forceps and an ominous-looking packet containing a just visible, wickedly curved suture needle in his gloved hands.
“Sit on her tummy when you’ve finished” he said to The Girl. ”
“One, come and straddle her tits”.
“Three and Five, come and take a leg each”.
Two felt The Girl settle on her abdomen, she heard the squeal of chairs on the wooden floor and felt someone moving across the table top. Hurriedly One squirmed down across Two’s tits. The Girl took One in her arms. The full weight of the two women came down on Two, squeezing the breath from her body. She felt hands take hold of her legs and pull them wider apart. The ben-wa balls were shoved inside her once more, they felt cold and her pussy stung a little as they slipped in.
Something clamped the top of her left labia majora. The the same swift pressure on her right. Paper tore. She felt tugging as her labia were pulled outward swiftly followed by a sudden sharp popping sensation and then a searing pain, then the popping sensation again as the needle made its exit.
Two felt deeply calm as the man pulled the needle through. She didn’t have time to flinch as the second set of forceps pulled at her and the needle popped her right lip, pushed through and popped out again. The pain didn’t seem like pain anymore. She felt, for a moment, quite dreamy.
But then, as she felt the forceps being moved down for the second row of stitches she realised that she had forgotten to breath and now, with two women on her chest, it was barely possible. She started to struggle. “Calm” came his voice as she experienced the weird pop, push, pop and pull sensation for the third time. She was desperate for more breath and wriggled more.
He was by her head. “Calm” he said “and it’s over in a moment”. She stared back and screamed “I can’t breathe”. “You obviously can” he said. “Calm” he repeated: “I …am… watching you. You are breathing”.
Two screamed again and he slapped her, hard, across the cheek. The screaming stopped, replaced with quiet sobbing.
The pop, push, pop, pull routine began again. Eight times in all she felt herself punctured.
Then the pressure came off Two’s chest as The Girl got to her knees and then stood above her, helping One to her feet. Two’s legs were released. The man helped her to raise her head and The Girl brought a hand mirror to the end of the table. Five faces were looking down at her. Only The Girl was smiling, Two smiled back. At her reflection. In the mirror was a perfect row of blanket stitch. Her lips were sealed. Craning her neck she could just see the thin black stitches, holding her together… And three tiny, crimson drops.
“You will eat when we have eaten'” said the man. “For now, you are here to serve”.
“One, you will serve the antipasto. Two – you will be sommelier. Three, You will serve the entree. Five, You will serve pudding. Two will bring it to you”. The man motioned to The girl, who drew out the chair to his left and sat.
“One, the platter on the left please, Two, the white wine – and iced water please”.
The two girls moved to the sideboard. One moved confidently. Two less so. She’d clearly had no problem with heels before but now, she was ungainly. No swaying, one-foot-in-front-of-the-other sashay now. “Two, you can walk better: you showed us how at the station. Come back and do it again,” ordered the man. Two turned, walked back to her chair with a more confident, open stride and turned again, As she did one of her balls emerged from her with a soft plop. She stopped and reached down. “Do not adjust your dress.” He sounded stern.
Two walked back to the sideboard conscious of the sticky metal sphere swaying lazily between her legs. She reached for the uncorked bottle in the ornate, antique wine cooler, turned on her heel again – as alluringly as she could manage, and walked to the end of the table, passing behind The girl and her master and standing slightly behind and to the side of his right shoulder. “May I pour sir?”.
She bent slightly to reach the smaller glass and felt things become even less certain down below. He passed the glass to the Girl, who swirled it, sniffed deeply, tasted, nodded and replaced the glass in front of her man.
Two reached further forward to fill the larger glass. He motioned her hand away. “That’s for the red wine'” he said, “water please”.
She made the long walk to the other end of the room, concentrating hard. She was very wet now. So wet she could imagine her juices soaking and then sliding down the silk cord connecting the two stainless steel balls, coating the one that had escaped and which was swinging gently at the top of her legs. She pictured the oily wetness slowly covering the ball and coalescing at its base, dripping gently on the polished parquet floor.
She placed the bottle of Evian on a salver, together with two crystal tumblers put a napkin over her arm and began the walk back. She felt no more secure.
She reached the man’s side just as One had finished delivering a plate of mixed antipasti and as The girl was raising a rolled circle of salami to his lips. He looked at her tray: “ice?”
She made the precarious journey again, much more confident that she was holding her own. She returned with iced tumblers and poured the water. `’in future,” he said “one glass will do”.
The girl fed the man and then fed herself. When only a few olives and artichokes remained he waved away the plate. One stepped forward and took it and The girl looked at Three and pointed to the plate near the middle of the sideboard, sitting on a warmer and covered by a silver dome.
Three grabbed the plate and immediately let go. It clattered back down onto the warmer: It was burning hot. she looked for something to hold it with – there was nothing.
“Two, you have Three’s napkin” said The girl. Two bustled down the table holding out the napkin. She’d lost composure and, with a clatter, she lost her remaining ball. She made to pick it up. “Not now,” the man said. Flustered she gave the napkin to Three who picked up the plate and delivered it to the table, uncovering it with a flourish. It was a steak, oozing juices, with a mass of mushrooms, all sorts, by its side.
The man cut into the steak and delivered a superbly pink portion to his girl’s mouth. He looked at Three standing forlornly where she had dropped her ball. “Another five demerits”. He took the permanent marker from The girl’s tray, rose and moved to Two’s side. He made another a group of five lines on her buttock.
He tipped Two’s chin up with a finger. “I can solve this problem for you”.
“You’ll still get your demerits.” She had no idea whether this was good or bad – but she was very aware of the five black lines on her behind.
“If you put your ben-wa back in again, do you think you can keep them in?”
She thought. Then shook her head.
“Do you want to keep them in for me?”. She nodded.
“I can sew you up for the evening,” He said. “Will you let me?”
There was a new silence in the room. All the others looked at Two. Five thought she’d misheard. Three scowled – an opportunity to impress and it wasn’t being offered to her. One wanted to object on Two’s behalf – surely this was abuse. But Two was smiling. She almost looked nonchalant. Two nodded.
They ascended the narrow stairs, The Girl bringing up the rear. There was no handrail. Min turned back to find her crutches. The Girl had them already and, beaming, pushed Min forward, placing her arm under Min’s and around her chest, took some of her weight. Together they crabbed up the short flight of stairs. The girl, thoughtfully rolled one of Min’s long, thick, rosy nipples between her thumb and forefinger. “Bet you are very proud of those,” she said. Min mumbled her thanks as they emerged into the light of the house’s entrance hall.
In front of them the corridor widened into a Victorian tiled vestibule, mostly black and white but with a coat of arms set into the centre. To the left were uncurtained, tall windows either side of a double front door. A second row of identical windows ran above the entrance. Even in the dark, the outside world’s ability to look in impressed the naked women. A huge chandelier blazed above their heads and the corridor to their right was dramatically lit by rows of sconces set into the panelled Wedgwood blue walls. Turning, the women could see the hallway extended the full depth of the building. A wide, formal uncarpeted oak staircase with an ornate sweeping balustrade led to a gallery and upper rooms.
The girl led them through a door into an inner hall and along an oak boarded floor to a door on their left. They entered a long room with walls painted a light olive-green. In the centre of the room a long table, covered in a pure , starched white linen cloth, stood upon a large oriental carpet. The table had 12 heavy chairs, the wood dark with age. All had red leather seats. Only one place was set, at the end, where a very large, plain white oval plate lay slightly to one side of a carver chair with one set of cutlery placed to the side of the chair immediately to the left.
Looking beyond the table to the opposite end of the room they saw a long oak sideboard topped with covered platters and tureens, a tray of decanters, stacks of smaller plates and an enormous crystal bowl of fruit.
The room was tall and the outside wall was pierced with six equally spaced tall windows made up of small, square, leaded panes. There were heavy damask curtains, extending from floor almost to the plaster coving of the ceiling, but these were undrawn.
A log fire crackled in a large, decorative plaster fireplace set into the centre of the inside wall of the room. This room was less brightly lit than the hall had been and the flame’s reflections danced in the panes of the windows opposite. The wall was patterned with paintings of all shapes and sizes, framed to suit the art work and not the decor. Each was a landscape. Each featured a castle.
Four of the chairs were slightly drawn back from the table. on each seat was a white canvas bag, closed with a red ribbon. Each had a luggage tag. The tags were labelled 1,2, 3 and 5.
“Please stand gracefully to the right of your chair,” required the girl.
The man entered the room. He now wore a plain black evening jacket, dress shirt and black tie. He looked dapper, though bulging pockets rather spoilt the cut of the suit. “Good evening and welcome” he said, sitting in the chair at the end of the table”.
“This is how we live,” said The girl. “We are doing nothing special or different because you are here. Or rather, because you are here we are doing nothing special or different. We want you to know what we expect if you become part of our family, for a time at least”.
“Please unpack your bag. It has gifts for you that you will take with you when you return home. Place the boxes on the table in front of you and the shoes on the floor beside you.”
“Five, in view of your injury there are no shoes for you,” said the man”.
The women did as instructed. Each bag contained a black and a red box and a pair of black patent stiletto-heeled court shoes.
The man looked down the table. “Well done One” he said. The others looked at the tall girl but could see nothing to praise. “Of all of you'” the man continued. “One has placed her boxes most neatly and precisely. Whilst you are here, every act you perform should reflect well on you. it should be done with diligence, grace and elegance. The smallest of things matter here”.
“Please put on your shoes,” Instructed The girl. “One first”. The girls saw that the man was watching intently as, in turn, each of them slipped on their new heels. One and Three just stepped into theirs. Two pulled her chair further back from the table, sat, crossed her legs and carefully pulled on a shoe, demonstratively recrossing her legs to don its sister. She stood, put her chair back into position and stood behind it, hands crossed behind her back and eyes on the floor.
Five just coloured. She felt excluded and shamed. Looking around the room she saw a transformation. The other women now appeared almost identical in height. She looked down. One’s shoes were kitten heels, lifting her hardly at all. Compared to the way the others’ shoes lifted their buttocks the elegant, svelte One now looked just a little dumpy, even though she was still, by a short hair, the tallest in the room. Two stood confidently on three-inch heels. Three tottered on even higher shoes, which also had a low platform sole.
“Before you eat you will serve” said the man. “But before you serve we will help you do so with elegance and grace. Remember – you are always at liberty to refuse anything I ask of you. Just say no if you don’t consent. Otherwise, I shall assume that you do”.
“Let me show you how I help my girl to move in the way I like.” He beckoned to The Girl who walked over to the table and bent over it, lying flat across it, her breasts pressed to the tabletop and her arms stretched out at right angles, stretched and straining as far as her fingertips could reach. She had put on red court shoes, but, despite the higher heel, still had to raise herself on tiptoe to assume the position.
The man took a small black box from one jacket pocket. He lifted the lid and raised it to show the women. It contained a small, shiny, curved object resting against the box’s scarlet silk lining. He lifted it out. and hefted it, the girls could see it was heavy. It had a bulb at one end that flowed into a narrow, curved, neck about three inches long. The object finished in a wide “D” shaped handle. He held it up. “Who knows what this is?”
The women looked. Two opened her mouth to speak, thought better of it and put her hand up. So did Three – and then Five.
“Anyone used one?” Two kept her hand up.
“It’s regular wear around here,” said the man. “In fact, if you are required to come to us at any point you should be wearing this, your shoes and our other little present. To forget is to fail. As with anything asked of you by me”.
He spat on the end of the little butt-plug and placed a finger on the small of The Girl’s back. She pushed her arms back and pulled her buttocks apart. He moistened his finger in his mouth, rubbed a little of the spittle against her anus and then pushed the stainless steel plug in, unhurriedly, until the D-shaped handle nestled against her hole. He took his finger from her back, she released her buttocks and the plug disappeared from view.
He took a red box from his other pocket as The girl rose from the table. She turned and her back to the table, raised herself onto its top. She lay back again and raised her legs in a high wide “V”. She pointed her toes and grasped her breasts mounding them with her hands.
He opened the box. Inside were two stainless steel balls. A cord ran through them, ending in a loop at one end.
He felt The girl. “Moist enough”. He shook the balls. They jingled softly. He addressed the women: “The more elegantly you move,” he said “the less noise you will make”.
He slipped his hand into the girl and twisted it gently, opening her. he removed his hand and replaced it with the first ball, pushing it’s fellow swiftly in behind it. The loop of cord was all that could be seen. He stroked her leg and The Girl stood up and shuffled off the table childishly. She stood and positioned herself behind the chair next to the man. He looked at her, a little quizzically. “If you want elegance”, she said “don’t use a table-cloth. Too much friction”. He smiled. She tossed her hair and snorted. He frowned.
“The Girl will now fill each of you. You know what to do. If you don’t consent to this just remain standing”.
All four stepped forward. Three of them leant down onto the table. The last, One, raised her hand. He nodded. “Please sir, nothing has been in there before..”
“But plenty has come out,”he said “It’s no worse than that”.
One bent too.
“Anyway” said The Girl, “Unlike me, you get lubed”.
The Girl took a silver tray from the left hand end of the sideboard. She removed the white, starched napkin that had covered the tray’s contents: on it were a small bottle of lubricant, a pack of wet-wipes, a pile of latex gloves, a black marker pen and a silver dish. She carried the tray to where One stood.
The girl put the tray on the table and put on a latex glove, snapping the wrist band loudly. She lubed the forefinger of her right hand. “Finger first” she said to One and placed the forefinger of her other hand on One’s back. One held her buttocks as far apart as she could, finding it was a real effort to stay still and flat on the table.
The girl pushed her lubed finger against One’s anus and then, without warning, pushed it through the sphincter. One grunted. she felt the finger rotating, then stretching her. One felt a sensation that felt like shitting and not-shitting: Familiar and not familiar. The finger pushed down and One was instantly reminded of how close her anus was to her vagina. The diagram from Grey’s anatomy filled her mind. she lifted her hips in response: She felt her body warm to what was happening. “Still” whispered The Girl. The finger withdrew. She heard The Girl sniff and say “She’s clean”. The finger returned to her back and she stretched her cheeks apart again. She felt something bigger than the finger push against her entrance. It wasn’t just bigger. It was cold. Not comfortably so. She did her best to relax as her plug was pushed firmly home. She felt the t-bar of the handle nestling against her cleft.
The finger left her back and One let go of her buttocks. “Cunt please dear'” said The Girl. One rose and positioned herself as The Girl had.earlier. The thing in her bum felt quite secure. It did not slip or slide as she moved to position herself for the next insertion. She saw the Girl wiping her finger clean, she dropped the wet-wipe into the dish on the tray and pulled on another latex glove.
“Touch yourself, The Girl instructed, “Are you wet or do you need lube?” One put her hand between her legs and allowed the tip of a single, French-manicured finger to rub over her clitty, lightly tracing a tight oval. The Girl slapped her hand. “Touch yourself – not play with yourself. All that is needed is to know if you are wet”.
“I’m wet… err” One hesitated.
“I’m wet… girl” prompted the other: “Are you sure? You haven’t actually checked.”
“I’m sure Girl”.
The Girl opened One’s red box and took out her set of balls. She ran a latex covered finger between One’s neat, tiny labia, hardly visible beneath the thick, curly, springy, dark brown pubic hair. The girl moved her finger from side to side, opening One.
One felt the first cold ball pushed against her. This was a welcoming, familiar feeling. She relaxed as The girl pushed both balls snuggly into her and smiled in thanks. She stood. Confident. She’d been doing Kegels for years and knew exactly how to hold her new friends in. But being full behind, and with something rigid and unyielding, changed the feeling completely. She rocked slightly forward and back and then side to side and felt the balls moving against the curved rod in her behind. She smiled to herself and at The Girl – and then at the man. She could get used to this. He smiled back. She tried a twerk, just to see what she could do to herself. He frowned. She stopped. The Girl giggled.
The Girl moved to Two, who was swiftly plugged behind and then filled in front. She stood, nervously, her thighs tight together.
Three raised her hips to accept The girl’s finger, which was withdrawn and sniffed. “Dirty'” said the girl. “Five demerits “said the man.
“But, hey, I can’t help that” yelped Three. “You can” said the man “My girl showed you all how I believe. There’s no excuse.
“Five demerits” he repeated. the girl took the felt tip pen and marked Three’s buttock with four vertical lines, crossed with a fifth horizontal one. The girl filled Three.
It was Five’s turn. She didn’t need lube. but she didn’t say. So many objects and so many cocks had been up her arse. that this was easy. It was also, she though, disgusting. Being taken up the shitter had always been about hurting her; about making sure she felt quite worthless. But The Girl was gentle: Five wasn’t used to that. In went the cold steel, slowly and with a firm, determined gentleness. “Comfy?” she was asked. She’d never thought of this as being anything to do with comfort.
The man was speaking: “We are doing this because it works for my girl and we hope it will work for you too. It’s not about making you feel submissive, or humiliated. It is a reminder that your primary purpose is to be a sexual being even when you are serving here, or, let’s say, gardening or doing the dishes.
“Its my way of providing you with a constant reminder of your purpose, which is to enhance my girl’s and my life by being decorative, decorous, graceful playthings. If this purpose pleases you, you may be happy here”.
Five turned to accept her Ben-wa balls and saw The Girl smiling down at her without a trace of contempt or loathing “Good girl”, she whispered to Five. The balls went in easily. She arched her hips experimentally, hoping not to be noticed. She felt full. She felt exalted. Special. She couldn’t help grinning as she resumed her place beside her chair.