Testing the Submissive(24)

For the next hour we talked and talked and talked. It was a slumber party for slutty whores. The girls served me my first drink, a delicious glass of Pinot Noir from Oregon, and after that we all fended for ourselves. The girls made mixed drinks and shooters. The network had sent up a big tray of cheese, fruit, truffles, and the universal favorite, potato chips. At one point our little sitting area got so messy with napkins, little plates and crumbs that I tidied up. My new friends teasingly designated me as the ‘maid’. True to my new role, when we ran out of clean shot glasses, I carried a bunch of them into the kitchen area and set about rinsing them. Xochi joined me, and as I dried each new glass, she’d make a fresh B52 in it.

We went back to the sitting area; with Marjorie and Christie curled up on the couch kissing each other, and commencing to remove each other’s clothing. Neither Xochi nor I interfered. In fact, I started to retreat back into the kitchen when Marjorie caught me in her peripheral vision and requested I stay. Xochi crept up behind me pressing her breasts into my back, and reaching around my shoulders she began to unbutton my blouse. I felt her wrists touch the side of my own breasts, and it felt lovely.

“You will pleasure them, just as I did when I was new,” she whispered in my ear.

I looked down to see Xochi’s dainty pretty hands fumbling with the buttons of my Banana Republic blouse. Damn blouse. Why’d I wear this stupid thing? It had double buttons. If I had known I’d be seductively stripped, I would have selected something with six buttons, not twenty six.

For the next twenty minutes, Marjorie and Christie kissed passionately while their fingers explored each other’s bodies. It was a beautiful erotic sight. There was no need to hurry. One of the great misconceptions about people in the bdsm lifestyle is that we don’t enjoy vanilla sex. That’s simply not true. We might not be satisfied by vanilla sex alone; but erotic sensual lovemaking is never boring.

All the while Xochi was removing my clothing and her own. I will still standing. When Marjorie spread her legs, Xochi took that as a cue to press downward on my shoulders. I sunk lower until my knees hit the floor, and as sexily as I could, made my way over. When I arrived, I could see that Marjorie’s pussy was already glistening wet. I flicked my tongue lightly along the slit in order to taste some of her essence. Then I poked at her clit with the very tip of my tongue. Soon I was making my tongue stiff and rigid, enabling me to probe it deep into her hole. I alternated my technique, moving around her pussy, and never letting up on my concentration. For a full minute I focused directly on her clitoris, sucking the little pebble into my lips, going as far as lightly chewing on it. I listened attentively to her sounds, so I could tailor my cunnilingus to her preferences. When I felt her hand capture the back of my head and pull me into her crotch more firmly, I knew she was close. I put all my attention on her clit, and she began to gyrate and tremble. She flooded my mouth with juices, and I almost giggled into her throbbing pussy when she moaned and groaned as loudly as she did.

In her aftermath, Marjorie guided my head toward Christie’s spread open legs. A vagina is like a snowflake, each one is completely unique. Based on her reactions, it didn’t take me long to ascertain that Christie wanted two of my fingers inside her, pressing up toward her G-spot. She wiggled and withdrew anytime my tongue made direct contact with her clit, but she squirmed with joy and delight when I made sweeping circles with my tongue all around the clit. She came all over my face with both her hands gripping my hair.

All the while, what I loved was – Marjorie and Christie never let go of each other. They kissed and caressed like high school lovers the entire time. Marjorie had pulled on Christie’s nipples throughout her orgasm to add an extra sensation.

I looked up to see the same two smiling faces who greeted me at the door earlier, now smiling with satisfaction. Marjorie’s voice was sweet: “Someone is waiting for you.”

I looked over my shoulder, and there was Xochi, waiting. Legs also spread. This was my initiation. A beautiful ritual. I crawled closer and could see faint cane marks all along her inner thighs. If I had to guess, I’d say the marks where eight to ten days old. Whoever had caned her started just inside her knee, and laid one mark down inch by inch all the way up to her pussy. The assailant had concentrated on the inner part of her leg, knowing the skin is far more sensitive there. I kissed one of the faint welts, and then set about my work bringing her the best orgasm my tongue and lips could muster.

It felt wonderful to have the mixed juices of three beautiful women on my face. I must have smelled like a whore house, but I was in bliss. The same three women descended on me simultaneously and returned the favor. They laid me down on the soft carpeting. I had one mouth on each nipple, and one down below. Three sets of lips on me at the same time. Incredible. Then my three lovers would rotate clockwise. Whichever was kissing my right nipple would stop to kiss my mouth as she shimmied up around my head to get to the left nipple. The kiss was never long, but it was always sensuous. Then I would close my eyes and feel it again: the three most erogenous zones of my body engulfed in pleasure at once. As my climax approached, the girls sensed it, and the rotation stopped. Marjorie was softly biting my left nipple; Christie was sucking my right nipple deep into her mouth; and Xochi’s tongue was working my clit with expert finesse. I came so hard I almost passed out.