This story continues Melissa's misadventures in Blue Water, which began here:
https://www.freecatfights.com/forums/index.php?topic=71572.0My thanks once again to my good friend peccavi for allowing me to use her characters.
A word of warning...this story is more about domination and submission than about fighting, and serves as a bridge to the next story which has not one but two fights in it. If you're a fight fiction purist, you might want to wait for that episode but if you proceed, don't say you haven't been warned
Cheers,
Scrib
*****
“Melissa? Your phone just buzzed. I think someone texted you.”
“Mmmnnnggghhhuuugh…” My reply sounded something like that. I rolled over slowly, onto my back, my chestnut brown hair strewn across the pillow and across my face too. Raising one arm languidly, I brushed it out of my eyes and blinked at the arched ceiling above me as my mind slowly surfaced through the fog of sleep.
I was laying in the king-sized bed at the Redwood Lodge, the boutique hotel perched on the cliffs above the Pacific Ocean, where Edward Packenham had brought me for a weekend after our trip to San Francisco. I was naked, the white satin sheet down at my waist and tangled around my legs. My chest rose, breasts swelling as I let out a deep yawn and stretched my arms above my head.
Edward lay next to me, on his side facing me. As I yawned he reached out a hand and brushed his fingertips gently across my left nipple, making me shiver. I turned my head to smile at him. “Edward Packenham, you’re incorrigible.”
He grinned, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “Of course.” Leaning closer, he kissed me on the lips, and I rolled over to face him as I responded, my chest pressing into his. His hand slipped around my waist to cup my firm, nicely rounded butt and pull me against him. I felt his hardness against my smooth, sensuously curved belly, tickling the white gold charm that nestled in my navel, and a little twinge of excitement ran through me. Edward was all fired up and ready to go – again, even though it was only a few hours since we had last made love.
We had indulged in another round of enthusiastic sexual gymnastics after we got back from our evening in Blue Water Harbor, though we were rather more conventional that we’d been earlier, in public. Edward had retrieved the remaining champagne from our suite’s refrigerator and we’d treated that as a nightcap, cuddling on the couch and chatting, marveling at the unabashed debauchery that seemed to be the social norm here in this town, and joking a little sheepishly about our own contribution to it, in the bar on the beach. Then we’d gone upstairs to bed and made love again. As Edward had said in the car on the way back, there seemed to be something in the water here.
“Definitely incorrigible…and insatiable.” I broke the kiss reluctantly and rolled over onto my back again, reaching for the nightstand and my phone. I thumbed it into life and blinked again as I focused on the screen. “It’s from Justeen.” I frowned. Why would Justeen – Ms Justeen – text me first thing on a Saturday morning? I glanced at the time, at the top of my phone’s screen. Okay, so it wasn’t first thing in the morning, and it was almost midday in Chicago, but it still struck me as odd.
“What does she say?”
I read the message aloud. “A package will arrive soon, with instructions. Do as they say.”
Edward raised his eyebrows. “How mysterious,” he said with a smile, raising himself up on one elbow.
“Very,” I agreed. I still wasn’t completely happy with Justeen after what had happened with her and Cesaire at her condo, but I didn’t dare disobey her. I wondered what would be in the package.
Edward ordered breakfast for us from room service. By the time the doorbell to our suite chimed, we were both downstairs wrapped in white terrycloth robes.
Along with the cart carrying our food, plus orange juice and coffee, the waitress brought two large flat white boxes. Their appearance piqued my curiosity even more – I’d expected a Fedex label or something but there were no markings at all. I wondered how they’d gotten here, and particularly so fast, from Chicago.
I wanted to open them immediately, but Edward insisted we eat first. “I’m starving, Melissa, and the boxes aren’t going anywhere.” I fidgeted through fresh fruit, ham and eggs with home fries, and toast with preserves, before he finally looked at my nervous anticipation and laughed. “You’re like a kid on Christmas morning! Go on…open them.”
I leapt up and took the boxes from where they sat on the coffee table in front of the couch, and opened the lid of the uppermost one. From the size and style of the box, I already assumed it was something to wear, and I was proven correct. Nestling in white tissue paper inside, was a neatly folded scarlet sheath dress.
Sitting atop it was a small white envelope, which I immediately tore open. There was a handwritten note inside, in an unfamiliar hand.
Wear this to lunch today, with my compliments – and wear nothing else. It was signed ‘AP’ and I realized now why the package bore no shipping labels. It had been hand delivered from Aisha Pashir.
I showed the note to Edward and again he raised his eyebrows. “A note from Justeen, followed by a package from Aisha. Sounds like those two have been talking.”
I nodded thoughtfully. I dimly remembered Aisha mentioning, the night before, that she and Justeen were acquainted, though I’d been rather preoccupied at the time and hadn’t paid much attention. I shivered slightly at the thought of how I’d taken Edward’s cock in public – in my ass, no less – while Aisha’s slave Carla had pleasured me on her knees with Aisha herself standing over us, watching – directing us. My ass twitched now, and my insides churned a little at the memory. It wasn’t an entirely uncomfortable feeling.
I’d surprised myself. Melissa Windeyer does not do slutty, but I’d done all that without a second thought and without regret – not even now. What had surprised me even more was that nobody seemed to regard it as anything out of the ordinary. Indeed, we hadn’t been the only ones, or even the first, to give public vent to our desires in that bar. This was a very unusual little town.
I drew the dress up out of the box and held it against me. It was sleeveless, with a low scooped neckline and an oval-shaped cut-out in the front that would expose my belly button and its charm. It fell to just below the tops of my thighs – I noted that I’d need to be careful bending over – and the stretchy fabric would cling to every curve of my slender but curvaceous figure.
Laying the dress back in its box, I set it aside and opened the second box. Inside was a black jacket, cropped short so it would cover only my chest and ribs, leaving my tummy exposed by the cut-out in the dress. That word
exposed made my tummy flutter slightly. Aisha and Justeen had definitely been talking.
An hour later, after showering – alone, despite Edward’s amorous suggestion – and washing my hair, I came back downstairs. The scarlet dress clung to my curves just as I imagined it would, and the low neckline revealed the deep valley between my breasts. The armholes were unexpectedly generous and revealed quite a lot of side-boob, but the jacket draped over my breasts made it a little less daring.
I had added a pair of black patent pumps with four-inch heels – I decided the ‘nothing else’ instruction didn’t apply to shoes – and I’d agonized over underwear. Surely Aisha didn’t intend me to come to lunch without panties. I compromised with a red lacy thong that was so thin it didn’t show even under the figure-hugging dress.
I’d accessorized with the silver chain Justeen had given me – my collar. I wore it everywhere. I added white gold drop earrings that matched the charm in my belly button. My lipstick wasn’t a precise match for the scarlet of my dress, but it was close, as was the newly applied varnish on my finger- and toenails.
Edward looked up at me admiringly from the couch. “Well don’t you look just delicious.”
I smiled. “You don’t look bad yourself.” He certainly didn’t, dressed in faded jeans, brown loafers and a pale yellow open-necked shirt with a tan sports jacket over it. Edward was in his early forties but he took great care of himself and it showed.
Ten minutes later we were in Edward’s red Mercedes rental car, threading our way down the narrow lane that wound through the thick woods to the main road. Unlike the night before, Edward turned left, heading north – as he explained – toward Blue Water Village. Our encounter the previous night with Aisha, her wife Jenni and their slave Carla had ended with an invitation to lunch today at Aisha’s house.
‘You can’t miss it,” Aisha had said when she had given Edward directions, and as we came over the hill and saw the village spread out before us with its white sandy beaches on either side of the short peninsula, I saw that she had been right. The ‘Spanish style house’ was less of a house and more of a mansion – a palace, even. It was a massive white stucco structure, red roofed, sprawling down the hillside to the edge of a cliff that dropped off to the valley and the village below.
Edward swung the car between two wrought iron gates into a broad courtyard that fronted the house, bordered by neatly trimmed hedges. There was a double garage at the far end, but two other cars stood on the red brick paving stones. I didn’t know what kinds they were, but they were different models – a white sedan and a silver SUV. Edward parked behind the SUV, walked around and opened the car door for me.
I swung my feet out, keeping my knees demurely together, and we walked the few yards to the front door. The house was even more impressive close up. Two storeys towered above us, with big white windows overlooking the courtyard, trellises festooned with climbing roses covering the walls between them.
The door opened a few seconds after Edward rang the bell, and Carla stood there smiling at us, her rounded face framed by her jet-black, bob-cut hair. She was even shorter today in flat soled shoes rather than the perilous heels she’d worn in the bar the night before. She was dressed rather more conservatively too, though her pink crop top hugged her generous bosom and her black yoga pants looked painted on. Her black patent leather collar still encircled her throat though, a reminder of what she was. “Hello Ms…hello Sir.” She gave a little deferent bob that made her breasts jiggle, and stepped back. “Please…come in. Mistress and the other guests are waiting for you.”
We stepped inside, into a small foyer with a couch and two end tables, then followed Carla through an expansive living room with a grand piano and some impressive artwork on the walls, along a gallery with floor-to-ceiling French doors that opened onto a terrace with spectacular views of the valley and the ocean beyond, and eventually into another huge open plan space that was part massive kitchen, part dining room and part living room.
Aisha turned as we entered, evidently forewarned by my heels clicking sharply on the terracotta tiles of the gallery. The living room was floored with deep plush white carpet however, and the sudden silence of my steps matched the abrupt cessation of conversation in the room.
“Oh good…you’re here,” smiled Aisha as she came toward us, hands outstretched. She was dressed in white just like the previous night, though this time her dress was high necked and long-sleeved, the hem just below her knee. The only concession to bared flesh was a slit up the left thigh that showed an expanse of long, tanned leg with each step she took.
She kissed us each on the cheek – she was close to my height, but had to stretch up to Edward - then took each of our hands in hers and led us further into the room, Carla trailing behind. “Come…there are people I want you to meet.”
There were five other people in the room – two men and three women. One of the men and two of the women were seated on facing white leather couches but stood as we came close.
Aisha smiled at a willowy blonde, almost six feet tall, in a flowing white skirt and an electric blue top with a neckline that plunged deep to show a deep vee of golden flesh and the curves of her small but nicely shaped breasts. She towered over the other women at nearly six feet tall, even in low heels. “You’ve met Jenni already.’
The blonde smiled and stepped forward to kiss Edward on the cheek, followed by me. Her thick hair was bound back in a braid behind her head, but fell forward to brush my left breast as her lips caressed my cheek. Her demeanor was much warmer than the night before, when she’d seemed quite frosty. “Wonderful to see you again,” she smiled, though I noticed her eyes wandering over my body. I smiled back and accepted her look as a compliment, which was no more than my due. I looked amazing in my new outfit and after all, I
am Melissa Windeyer.
Aisha turned to a tall, dark-haired man, with a neatly trimmed goatee. He was solidly built without running to fat, dressed in tan Dockers and a blue Oxford shirt. “This is Jack Ramirez…our local mayor…and his wife Lisa.” A petite but not skinny woman with shoulder-length light brown hair and a warm smile slipped her arm around his waist. She was shorter than me by a few inches, dressed in blue jeans, black pumps and a black sweater that hugged her curves and showed off a little décolletage.
Jack Ramirez extended his hand to Edward, then stepped close to kiss me on the cheek but a long way back, almost under my ear. I couldn’t help but give a little shiver as his fingers fleetingly caressed my back, just a little way up under my jacket where my dress ended and bare flesh began. “Wonderful to meet you,” he smiled at me with slightly hooded eyes. I could have sworn he was making a pass at me, right in front of Edward and his own wife. Surely he wouldn’t – but then I remembered where we were. In this place, the rules did not apply.
His wife didn’t seem to notice – or at least didn’t seem to be bothered if she did. She hugged me warmly. “Welcome to Blue Water, both of you. Aisha’s been telling us a lot about you.”
I blushed as I thought of the previous night and what Aisha – not to mention Jenni and even Carla – had witnessed and might have told. Lisa stroked my arm gently with a reassuring smile and added, “Oh don’t be embarrassed…things like that tend to happen a lot around here.” She chuckled and I couldn’t help but return her smile.
There was another couple standing by, waiting to greet us. The woman was short but curvaceous, in black pants that were nowhere near as tight as Carla’s though her bottle green top hugged her rounded bosom almost as snugly. She wore a short jacket over it, similar to mine, and her page-cut, Titian-red hair just swept her shoulders. The man beside her was tall, around Edward’s height, slender with curly dark brown hair, dressed in khakis and an open-necked pin-striped shirt. Like everyone else we’d met in Blue Water, they were well-dressed, stylish and attractive.
“This is Doctor Vanessa Carrington,” Aisha introduced the woman first, “and her husband Doctor Bill Carrington.”
“Doctors?” asked Edward as he shook hands with Bill and kissed Vanessa on the cheek.
“Oh, not MDs,” Bill replied with a smile and a shake of his head. “Vanessa’s a psychologist and I’m an analytical chemist.”
“Bill teaches at Cal State,” added his wife after she kissed me too. Her eyes seemed to drink me in, but in a different way to how Jenni had done, more appraisingly – the psychologist in her, I supposed.
“So did Vanessa until we stole her away,” interjected Aisha.
“We?” Edward caught on.
“We…a few of the residents here in town…endow a small private college,” explained Aisha. “Vanessa’s our new Chair of Psychology and History.” She spun abruptly on her heel as though she didn’t want to say more. “But let’s get you a drink before lunch.”
Carla did the honors at the wet bar over near the kitchen side of the enormous room, pouring me a glass of white wine and Edward a Scotch over ice. We stood admiring the view from the wraparound windows on three sides – the village spread out below us was situated along a promontory that stuck out into the ocean, with sandy beaches along both sides and a rocky point at the end, beyond which lay the ocean shrouded in sea mist. “The public beach is there…to the south,” Aisha pointed. “The other beach belongs to the houses built there.”
Aisha stood at my elbow and pointed out some salient features – Main St which ran lengthwise almost down the center of the peninsula, a few bars and restaurants along the public beach, and a few other landmarks. There was a large, modern-looking building which stood incongruously on columns over a small lake out near the point, but Aisha did not mention it and I decided not to ask.
She turned to me and reached out to stroke the links of the chain that nestled around my neck, much as she had done the previous night in the bar. Just then, her touch made me jump. “Each link engraved with the name of somebody who’s fucked you,” she said with a knowing smile that made me blush as I remembered the look in her eyes as she’d kissed me and I’d climaxed helplessly while she held me by the hair. I shivered even now as my pussy tightened at the memory. I felt my nipples grow hard, tenting my tight dress, and I blushed deeper, thankful that my jacket hid my arousal.
Aisha noticed my blush though – how could she not – and the corners of her ruby red lips turned upwards a little more. “But there are names missing, no?” she murmured with the hint of a wink. “I’m sure Edward’s name is there…but what about Carla’s, and what about mine?”
“I…” I stammered, tongue-tied – me, Melissa Windeyer, at a sudden loss for words. Finally I managed a nod. “Yes…” was all I could find to say.
She lifted the chain with a fingertip. “We can easily fix that.” She beckoned with her free hand. “Carla…come here.”
Carla, already hovering, appeared immediately at Aisha’s shoulder. “Yes Mistress?”
“Melissa needs her collar brought up to date with the latest names…as we discussed,” said Aisha, not hesitating to name my necklace for what we both knew it was. I realized she had already planned this, before we arrived. “Take it down to Mr Cho and have him do it right away.”
Carla nodded. “Yes Mistress.” She stepped behind me and before I really knew what was happening, she unfastened the clasp and lifted the chain away from my neck. I raised a hand to my throat, feeling a strange sense of nakedness at the absence of its weight.
“Don’t be concerned,” said Aisha reassuringly. “Mr Cho is our local jeweler and does wonderful work. Carla will be back within the hour and you’ll be completely up to date.”
I felt a twinge of further apprehension at the enigmatic smile in her eyes, but again I couldn’t bring myself to question her. Instead I glanced at Edward who returned my gaze with puzzled amusement. Some of my anxiety turned to annoyance. It was easy enough for him – he wasn’t the one under Aisha’s spotlight stare.
I took refuge by changing the subject. “This house is amazing!” I wasn’t entirely faking it, astonished at how somebody could afford a place like this. Was Aisha some kind of movie star, an heiress or a multi-millionaire? I couldn’t help but voice the question.
Aisha smiled enigmatically. “A rich husband a long time ago, some wise investments and a little good fortune,” she replied. “As for the house, I’d be delighted to show you around…after we eat. Lunch is almost ready.”
I hadn’t had time to really notice the women who were bustling about the kitchen with pots and pans, prepping, chopping and cooking. There were four of them, two blondes and two redheads, all in black pants and tee shirts, dressed like wait staff. All four wore black leather chokers – collars – at their throats, marking them as Aisha’s slaves. One of the blondes, younger than the other, bore a pierced eyebrow, a ring in the septum of her nose and another in her lip. I wanted to ask about the piercings, but something held me back. Maybe I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about the answer.
Aisha led us to a long white lacquer and glass table. It seemed the whole house was white except a few tastefully contrasting accents like the terracotta tiles in the gallery. Aisha took a seat at one end of the table, Jenni at the other. Vanessa sat to Aisha’s left, her husband opposite her. Edward and I were in the center of the table with me between Bill Carrington and Jack Ramirez, with Jack’s wife Lisa opposite him to Jenni’s left.
The first course was a crab salad, delivered by the four cooks who now became waitresses, with a precision that would have matched an army drill team. I swore there was one
clunk as all eight plates touched the table simultaneously.
Conversation continued over the appetizers, mostly centered around town gossip and everyone’s careers. The locals were very considerate and took pains to keep Edward and me up to speed on each subject. Lisa Ramirez in particular often broke off to add some explanatory detail to us.
Eventually the conversation turned to Edward and myself. “So, Melissa,” asked Jack Ramirez, “what do you do?” I was a little surprised that he asked me before Edward – after all, men tend to be a little misogynistic about jobs and things like that – but I’d noticed too that the men also seemed quite deferent to their wives. This was no bastion of male dominance.
I’d already anticipated the question of course – after all, I
am Melissa Windeyer – and I had an answer ready. “I’m an interior designer,” I replied, only hesitating long enough to press my foot firmly against Edward’s ankle so he wouldn’t give me away. Here at this table, in this house, with these people, I wasn’t about to admit that I was a sales clerk in an interior decorating store. Besides, it wasn’t entirely a lie. I might have been mostly a sales clerk, but I also helped a lot of clients make design decisions – I’d even helped Ms Justeen decorate her entire condo.
Edward was good and his face didn’t even betray a hint of surprise or amusement, but he did give me a long look as Jack asked him the same question. He gave the table a quick rundown on his business and a couple of projects he was working on. I was rather glad they hadn’t quizzed me to the same extent.
We finished our salads, the four girls cleared the plates and soon replaced them with our main courses – grilled fish and vegetables, beautifully prepared and presented. It felt like we were dining at a fine restaurant rather than someone’s house – the food was as good or even better than our meal the previous night.
We decided – or rather Aisha decided – to wait a while before having dessert, and everyone else agreed. I certainly wasn’t going to argue. The meal was delicious but filling. We refilled our wine glasses and adjourned to the living area where the talk wandered back and forth across various topics.
I found my eyes – and my attention – wandering from the conversation to the spectacular view and the equally spectacular house. The place looked like something out of
Architectural Digest and I could see Edward was as impressed by the house itself as I was by the décor.
Aisha noticed – she seemed to notice everything – and appeared beside me. Again I had to try hard not to jump as she touched my arm. The contact was electric, even through the sleeve of my jacket. “Come with me, Melissa. It’s time I showed you around, like I mentioned earlier.”
I looked around for Edward but Aisha’s grip tightened almost imperceptibly on my arm as she apparently read my thoughts. “No, this is just for us girls.” She smiled. “Jenni darling, would you like to join us?”
Jenni gave me an unreadable smile that made my tummy flutter again, as she put her wine glass down on the coffee table and came to join us. “Love to.”
Aisha led the way, with me following and Jenni bringing up the rear. We left the others in the living room and made our way – or so I thought – toward the front of the house, but then diverged down a wide, white-carpeted staircase to a lower floor. I found myself in another gallery with several doorways on the right, and full-length windows on the left, through which I could see a second terrace, patio and pool, all with amazing views. It seemed that every room in the house had a magnificent view, and I expressed as much to Aisha.
She smiled. “We loved the view from the top of the hill when we first came here. So we try to preserve as much of it as possible…for ourselves and our guests.” She led me along the broad passage, then out through a pair of French doors onto the lower terrace. “This is the guest floor…some houses are organized by wings but we went vertical and did floors instead.”
The view here was truly breathtaking. The house was built up to the very edge of a precipitous drop that fell away several hundred feet to the town below. I stood there at the railing on the edge of the cliff, inhaling the salt air, with Aisha at my left shoulder and Jenni at my right. I could feel the heat of their bodies, a sharp contrast to the cool ocean breeze that gently ruffled my hair. It was more than just their physical presence that I felt however. There was something about these women that plucked at my nerves. There was an aura here, the thing that Edward and I had noticed the night before, something palpable but still undefinable. Here and now, standing between the two of them, it seemed even stronger. I shivered slightly, and not from the breeze.
“I’m surprised you didn’t build on the beach,” I said, as much to distract myself as to make conversation.
“Oh, I prefer it up here,” smiled Aisha. “Here, I can see everything that happens.’
“Everything and everyone,” Jenni interjected. She reached out to me and I shivered a little harder as her fingertips brushed my bare skin at the neckline of my jacket. My nipples hardened immediately, thankfully still concealed under the jacket.
“It’s a small town but a very…interesting…one,” Aisha went on. “As you found out last night.”
I smiled. “Yes. Very…liberated.” I did my best to echo her tone. “Just the kind of place for people like us.”
Aisha arched an immaculate eyebrow. “Like us?”
“Like us,” I repeated. “Those who seize life and live it to the fullest. Strong, powerful Dommes.”
Aisha smiled, but it was Jenni who repeated, “People like us…”
“Yes.”
Jenni turned to face me and almost without thinking I turned to face her too. She was taller than me by a good six inches, lithe and svelte, and I could feel a strength radiating from her that was more than physical. “People like us…” she said again, her ice-blue eyes staring into mine with a chilling intensity that did anything but chill me, “…people like us…know how to control themselves.”
“What – ?” I began, but the question dissolved into a gasp as her fingers reached out to brush my bare tummy through the circular cutout in the front of my dress. I fought to catch my breath as her fingertip traced a circle around my belly button.
“People like us…can curb their baser urges,” Jenni went on, as her finger stroked upward to lift the charm that nestled in my navel, then let it drop again. I felt goosebumps rising on the back of my neck. I wanted to step back, to put some distance between myself and the tall blonde, but I was intensely aware of Aisha standing close at my back. Besides, I wasn’t sure I could move if I tried. My feet felt rooted to the tiled terrace.
“People like us…don’t pretend to be something they’re not,” purred Aisha from behind me, close in my ear. Her breath was warm on my neck. I opened my mouth to say something else but only a tiny murmur came out. I started as I felt Aisha’s hands touch the backs of mine as they hung at my sides, then stroke gently up the outsides of my arms to my shoulders. I tried – without success – to control a tremble that seemed to start at the very core of me.
“People like us,” Jenni went on, her voice a mesmerizing purr, “don’t take it in public…in the
ass.” I gave another sudden gasp as she jabbed her thumb hard into my belly button, which turned into a long groan as her harsh touch kindled a fire deep in my belly. My chin titled up involuntarily, my head lolling back.
Aisha’s fingers glided feather-soft across my shoulders, caressing the fabric of my jacket, and I tensed in anticipation of her touch on my bare skin. Even so, I started at the heat of her fingertips when at last they brushed my flesh at the juncture of my neck and shoulder, and my back arched involuntarily.
I whimpered as she drew the jacket gently off my shoulders and down my arms, exposing my bare flesh to the cool air. I knew without looking that my nipples were jutting through the thin dress like imprisoned fingers, so hard they ached.
Tilting my head forward again, I saw the smile in Jenni’s eyes as she looked at my breasts, but she didn’t touch them. Instead she swirled her finger gently but firmly in a circle inside my navel, and I gave a plaintive moan as my belly clenched so tight that I whipped forward reflexively, my face pressed into her upper belly just below her breasts. My hair fell forward over my face, hiding the flush of shame as a mini-orgasm ripped through me. My legs shook.
This couldn’t be happening! I’m Melissa Windeyer – strong, powerful, a Goddess to be worshipped! I tried to compose myself, to think of icebergs, cold and vast, but the thoughts would not come. Instead, all I could think about was how my dress felt as it rode up, baring half my ass – and how Aisha’s hands might feel on my bare butt cheeks.
I found out a moment later, when a delicate touch made me moan out loud and almost collapse against Jenni. The blonde’s fingers twisted in my hair, holding me in place as her other hand continued to caress my belly, stroking and kneading, twisting my insides into knots.
“Well well,” breathed Aisha, “what do we have here?” Her finger traced the band of my flimsy red thong, down the crack of my ass. I moaned louder, not because she touched my sex but because she stopped just short of it. “I distinctly remember what I wrote in my note to you…wear the dress…and nothing else.” She slid her fingertip under the band, pulling it out from my flesh, making it pull tight against my moist pussy lips, before letting it snap back. It stung and I gasped but didn’t have the breath to yelp out loud. “Is this nothing…girl?”
I quivered, and my voice was a flustered stammer as I replied, “Nnn…no…”
Jenni jerked me upright by my hair and glared into my eyes. “No what?” she hissed. “Address your betters properly, girl!”
I wanted to protest, wanted to tell her that she – they – couldn’t treat me like this. Not me, not Melissa Windeyer! I wanted to blaze with anger at their effrontery, but those eyes, those voices, their sheer presence burned all the pride right out of me and left me – wanting. My own words shocked me as I whimpered aloud, “No…no Ms Aisha…”
Aisha’s fingers hooked inside my thong once more, this time higher up, and I quivered as she drew it slowly down over my butt cheeks, then down my thighs until she could simply let it fall to my ankles. I could feel the goosebumps on my ass, chillingly, frighteningly – deliciously – exposed.
“There…that’s better,” Aisha crouched, letting her fingertips trace a gentle line down the back of my right thigh, making me moan even louder. She tapped my ankles with each hand, making me feet and step out of the thong, then scooped it up and rose again, her fingertips trailing back up my trembling leg to my butt. She didn’t bother to pull my dress down and I didn’t dare do it myself. I was frozen in place – frozen and burning up at the same time.
I yelped as Aisha gave me a light slap on my right butt cheek. “Stand up…turn around to face me.” I obeyed without thinking. I wanted to stare into her eyes but I couldn’t meet her gaze and found myself looking at her throat instead.
“A girl like you should not be without her collar,” Aisha smiled at me. She lifted her hands, stretched the thong wide and slipped it over my head, around my neck to nestle at my throat. I moaned again at her touch as she lifted my hair and tugged it free of the thong, leaving the twisted scrap of cloth dangling like a necklace at my throat. “There…now you’re properly dressed.”
“Speaking of her collar…” Jenni pointed over my shoulder and I turned my eyes without turning my head, to see a white car coming up the hill from the town, around the bend just below the house, its turn signal on. “That’s Carla, back with her real collar.”
“Yes,” agreed Aisha with a smile. “We should go back upstairs.” She turned on her heel. “Come, Melissa…and pull your dress down. You look like a complete slut.” Blushing as scarlet as my dress, I shimmied it down over my butt as I followed her on wobbly legs, with Jenni trailing close behind.
It took a few minutes for us to retrace our steps past the pool, upstairs and back to the living room where the others were seated on the twin couches around the coffee table, sipping wine and chatting animatedly. Edward looked up as we entered, his eyes idly amused as he saw I was minus my jacket – I’d left it downstairs after Aisha had taken it off me. I fervently hoped he couldn’t read my jumbled, roiling emotions that I feared were written clear as day on my flushed face. His eyes went to my chest and my nipples pressing at my thin clinging dress, making me blush even deeper, and I realized that was a vain hope. His eyes met mine again. “Enjoy your tour?”
I forced a smile, not trusting myself with words.
“We had a good…talk,” Aisha answered for me. “Didn’t we, Melissa?”
I swallowed hard and nodded. I silently prayed the others wouldn’t notice how turned on I was – they didn’t know me like Edward did. That hope too though, was quickly dashed as soon as I looked at Jack Ramirez, saw him stare hard at the thong hanging around my neck, and saw the knowing smile he exchanged with his wife.
I picked up my wine glass and took a grateful sip, painfully conscious of my bare crotch beneath my dress. What were they thinking of me – of me, Melissa Windeyer? I took another, larger sip.
Carla came into the room, a black velvet pouch in her hand. “I’m back, Mistress,” she announced unnecessarily, “and Mr Cho did exactly what you instructed.” She opened the pouch and drew out my silver chain necklace, holding it up to the light.
“Give it to Melissa,” said Aisha with a smile. “Let her see.”
Carla came over to me. I put down my glass and took the necklace from her hands. Sure enough, there were the two names I expected –
Carla with no surname and
Aisha Pashir, engraved one to a link in an identical font to the other names there. But my eyes widened – because those were not the only names engraved there. Alongside Carla’s and Aisha’s were
Jenni Haversham,
Lisa Ramirez,
Vanessa Carrington,
Jack Ramirez and
Bill Carrington – the entire luncheon party.
I looked at Carla, then at Aisha in stunned surprise. “But…? What – ?” Then I gulped at the smile on Aisha’s face, and trembled as Lisa and Vanessa rose from their seats and the four women approached, forming a circle around me. I wanted to ask them, “What are you doing?” but the words wouldn’t come. Besides, I knew the answer to that question already. They were going to take me, use me – and there wasn’t a thing I could do, or wanted to do, about it.
It was Lisa Ramirez who reached up from behind me, took the shoulder straps of my dress in her hands and peeled it down to my waist, my breasts bobbing free, pink nipples jutting from my pale flesh. The dress trapped my leaden arms at my sides for a moment before she lifted my limbs free. I gasped but remained rigid, trembling, unable to move, spellbound by – by Aisha.
It was Vanessa Carrington, the little redhead, who lifted the hem of my dress up over my hips, revealing my bare ass and crotch. I did nothing to stop her – me, Melissa Windeyer, reduced to nothing more than a passive, submissive toy. I stood there naked in front of all of them, teetering on my heels as my juices coursed down my quivering thighs. I dared not meet anyone’s eyes, least of all Edward’s. What must he think of me?
Aisha stepped up in front of me as I stood there, my dress a twisted belt of red around my hips. To all intents and purposes, I was naked. Eyes lowered, head bowed, I found myself staring at Aisha’s small firm breasts, her nipples pressing out through her clinging white dress. My chest ached and I realized I was holding my breath. That changed when Aisha stretched out a hand and touched my breast, and I let out a long moan. My eyes closed as I shuddered uncontrollably.
“Kneel, girl.” Her voice seemed to echo in my head and I sank to my knees immediately and involuntarily. Without thinking, I pushed my shoulders back, my breasts out. My wrists crossed at the small of my back, and my knees were spread wide as I sat back on my heels, head still lowered – just as I had seen so many little fluffballs kneel in Chatro and Ronaldo back in Chicago.
But here, now, the fluffball was me. The rush of shame made me lightheaded – and impossibly aroused.
Jenni approached Aisha from behind – I could see her feet and legs even with my lowered eyes – and her long-nailed fingers caressed Aisha’s hips for a moment, before she drew Aisha’s dress upward, further and further, baring her legs. Unable to stop myself, my own gaze followed the hem of the dress upward. Aisha was not wearing panties or even a thong, and I found myself staring mesmerized at the woman’s smooth, shaven mound, at the little arch at the top of her pussy lips where they didn’t quite come together. I couldn’t help wanting to press my tongue between those lips, and I knew with a certainty that was both thrilling and chilling, that I would get to fulfill that desire very soon.
Jenni tied Aisha’s dress behind her waist, leaving her bare below but still dressed above, as she stood with her feet apart, her smooth shaven crotch inches from my face. The room was completely silent, and I knew that everyone was fixated on me and the woman who was dominating me so effortlessly and so completely. Even Edward – especially Edward – would be watching me. It felt like the new blush went all the way to my toes.
Aisha’s quiet voice broke the silence. “Serve me, Melissa Windeyer…lick my pussy.” And I did.
I touched her with my tongue and as with her touch on my flesh earlier, the contact sent an electric shock through me. Not just through my body either – this was somehow more than a physical thing. My head swam, as though I was drunk. In a way I guess I was – drunk on Aisha and what this woman was doing to me. I leaned in harder, stretched my tongue deeper, and gorged myself on her pussy.
I gasped into Aisha’s wet sex as I felt her hand in my hair, caressing my scalp gently. “Good girl, Melissa…you have a wonderful tongue.” I could hear the lust in her voice. “Everything Justeen told me about you is true.” I moaned. The shame I felt at her words only made me more aroused, and the arousal made me even more ashamed. I was spiraling deeper into submission – and I only wanted more.
I don’t know how long I licked her…sucking her clit, kissing her velvet folds, swirling my tongue inside her, high on her taste. Part of me felt like it was an eternity – an eternity of crushing humiliation as I served this woman I barely knew, in front of her friends and my lover. To another part of me though, it felt all too brief, and that part of me still craved her when she bucked, clutched hard at my hair with both hands and came hard on my face, shuddering as she hunched over me.
At last she straightened up and released my hair, purring as she stepped back. I knelt there in front of her, my shoulders slumped, my head bowed once more. Her taste filled me. Her juices coated my face, my chin, down my neck. Her scent – her power – consumed me.
I had no chance to collect myself, no time to pull together the shreds of my shattered self-respect – and that might have been a good thing – before I felt another hand in my hair, this time less gentle, jerking my head back so I stared up into Jenni’s ice-blue eyes. She had shed her skirt and she too was bare below the waist now. “You did a beautiful job pleasuring Aisha, girl,” she smiled at me with wicked anticipation, “Now it’s my turn.”
No! This could
not be happening – not to me, not to Melissa Windeyer! But that thought, that cry of shattered dignity, seemed to come from far, far away, a faint echo lost in the pounding of my heart, in the rush of blood in my veins, in the fierce heat that burned deep in my belly. I shook like a leaf, hands clenched tight together as I knelt before the tall blonde – and whimpered as I reached out for her with my tongue.
Jenni tasted different to Aisha. Where Aisha’s powerful musk had tasted faintly of spice, Jenni’s was just as strong but softer somehow – creamier. Still, it made me swoon. My own pussy was streaming, soaking my thighs and the floor beneath me. My body vibrated with need. I groaned into the blonde’s sex. She groaned right back at me as she ground her hips on my face, taking me, using me – me, Melissa Windeyer, a Goddess in Chicago, and a helpless needy submissive slut, a room whore here in California.
Again, time seemed to stop. My mind shut down. I wasn’t thinking, only feeling. There was nothing but the smell and taste of her lust, the feel of her slippery slick skin against my lips. I licked, lapped, swirled and sucked. Melissa Windeyer was on her knees, worshipping another woman’s pussy, and all I could think about was how I could serve her better.
I was gasping by the time Jenni came, not only from the flood of her juices that cascaded down my throat, half drowning me, but also from the furnace in my own belly. I was naked, on my knees, soaked down to my breasts in Aisha’s and Jenni’s juices. I didn’t dare look up, didn’t dare see the looks on their faces as they watched me debase myself. I was being used hard like the cheapest subbie slut. I had never fallen so far.
And I was loving it – more than I could bear to think about.
The redhead – Vanessa Carrington – was next. She had shed her clothing and padded toward me completely naked, all pale smooth flesh and supple curves, her form but heavy breasts bouncing as she moved. I licked my lips as she stood before me, eager to add her musk to the medley of scents and tastes that already threatened to overwhelm my senses.
She reached out a hand to tilt my chin up, and her deep green eyes bored into mine. Her smile was softer, warmer than Aisha’s or Jenni’s – as though she knew what I was feeling. She reached out to stroke a strand of hair off my sticky face. “Enjoying yourself, Melissa?”
I blushed deeply. A moment ago, I couldn’t bring myself to meet anyone’s gaze. Now I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the naked woman in front of me. My fingers flexed. I wanted to grab her hips and bury my face in her crotch, but I didn’t dare move my arms. That would be breaking position, and a good a slave didn’t break position. I gave an audible whimper as the true import of that thought shook me to my core. Another wave of shame threatened to overpower me – but an even stronger wave of lust crashed into me in the same instant, and I knelt there quivering, tossed in a maelstrom of roiling emotions.
Vanessa was gentler with me than Aisha or Jenni had been, but her effect on me was no less profound. Just seconds after my tongue plunged into her, I was grinding my pussy onto my heel just as hard as she was grinding her pussy onto my face. I obviously had a similar effect on her since it seemed like no time at all before she came hard, spraying her juices down my throat as she held me tight against her, bucking and screaming.
When she finally stepped back, I slumped forward onto all fours, my chest heaving as I tried desperately to force air into my lungs. My head was spinning. My chest felt like I was trapped in a vice. It hurt to breathe, and I could feel my pulse in my nipples and my clit. Every awful shameful thing that had happened to me – Colleen, Jimmy and Brooke, Arthur and Lisa, even Ms Justeen and Cesaire more recently – all came flooding back to me right then. So many humiliations, but none compared to this. Yet I was shaking like a leaf, more turned on than I could ever remember being.
The circle of women around me – I could feel Aisha’s and Jenni’s powerful presences close by, even though I didn’t turn my head to look – turned. I found myself staring at Lisa Ramirez, the mayor’s wife. She was as naked as Vanessa, her skin slightly darker, her erect nipples brown and puckered. Her mound was adorned with a narrow, neatly trimmed landing strip. I gave a needful whimper at the sight of her, and immediately rested back on my knees, head trust forward and tilted up – ready to serve.
As Lisa stepped forward and accepted my face into her crotch, I heard soft laughter, including Edward’s pleasant chuckle. My face burned even hotter than the heat of Lisa’s pussy, and then hotter still when I heard Aisha’s voice. “She’s delightfully eager, isn’t she? Everything I felt she’d be…and more.” Her words made my insides clench tight. I shuddered and I felt my juices spurt as a mini-orgasm ran through my entire body. Here I was – me, Melissa Windeyer! – cumming at the mere mocking words of this powerful Domme. No, not just at her words, but from all that she and everyone here was doing to me.
I served Lisa as eagerly and diligently as I had any of the others, perhaps even more so as I felt myself growing – sinking – into my role. She took longer to cum than the others, but she made up for it with an intense climax, tearing at my hair as I sucked ravenously on her clit. I drank her juices down as she gushed on my face, giving her all the pleasure I could. When she let go of my hair, I collapsed forward again, but this time my arms wouldn’t hold me, and I fell face-down, forehead pressed to the floor, my round butt cheeks up in the air, my dripping pussy on full display – and not caring at all.
Aisha’s voice was a silken purr as she stood over me. “Such a willing girl, Melissa…so eager to give in to your appetites.”
“…and that’s one heck of an appetite she has,” laughed Lisa Ramirez. I shivered but didn’t move or say anything. I didn’t trust my body or my mind at that point.
“But we’re being rather unfair to the men,” Aisha carried on. “They’re just as worthy of your…talents…as we women are, and quite eager themselves. Look up, Melissa.”
I found the strength to push myself up onto my elbows, craned my neck up to stare through my matted hair – and my eyes bugged wide. All three men stood in a row in front of me. Bill Carrington was on the left, Jack Ramirez on the right, and Edward in the center. All three were naked…all three of their cocks stood rigidly to attention. I gasped out loud at the sight of them – and my insides churned with lust at the thought of any of them inside me.
Aisha purred again, “Which of them do you want first, Melissa?”
My whimpered reply horrified me. “All of them.” I blushed dark again in embarrassment, as the men grinned and the women laughed.
“That can be arranged,” smiled Aisha. She took a step forward to stand beside my head, and pointed to the floor between me and the men. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed her skirt was back in place. “Bill…why don’t you lay down here…on your back?”
Bill Carrington immediately complied, stretching out on the floor a yard or so from me, laying back with his cock standing up like a flag pole. I couldn’t take my eyes off it.
“Go to him, Melissa,” Aisha directed me in a soft voice, and I somehow managed to rise onto all fours and crawl to him. I felt his eyes – all of their eyes – boring into me. I kept my head bowed as I leaned over him and licked my tongue up his shaft. A tiny moan escaped my lips at the salty man-taste of him.
“Not that way, Melissa,” Aisha reproved me. “I’m sure you don’t just want him in your mouth. You want him inside you…properly inside you.”
My mouth still tasted of him as I whispered softly, “Yes.”
“Straddle him then…face his feet and take his cock inside you.”
I rose up onto my knees, leaned forward to place my hands either side of his thighs and lifted my left leg over his hips. I gasped as I felt the head of his cock against my soaking wet sex. The moment I sank down onto him, taking him smoothly inside me, I threw back my head and shuddered with an immediate full-blown orgasm, eyes closed and mouth wide open. I barely heard his answering moan as my heat enveloped his cock.
Aisha was not about to let me enjoy my release however. She stepped forward and thrust a hand into my hair. I tried to grind down on Bill’s shaft but she drew me upward and I whimpered with empty need as he slid out of me. I knew everyone was watching but I didn’t care. I needed a cock inside me. My orgasm had barely begun to scratch the itch that Aisha, Jenni – all of them – had built inside me. I moaned aloud again. “Please…”
“Last night you took Edward balls-deep in your ass, Melissa,” crooned Aisha, her voice cutting through the fog of my lust. “Now you’re going to take Bill the same way…for starters.” Her tone sent a shudder through my entire body. Without thinking, I pushed my hips forward to slide Bill’s hot cock-head, wet now with my juices, up between my firm butt cheeks. I bit my lip and arched my back as I felt him pressing against the pink rosette of my ass, still tender from the night before. My half-glazed eyes stared up into Aisha’s smiling face.
“Do it.”
I cried out as I sank down on him again and felt the thick head of his cock stretch me open and push inside my ass. He was shorter than Edward but just as thick. I cried out with the pain and the intense, intimate fullness of it, but I sat all the way down on him until my cheeks pressed against his pelvis. My body bucked as I came again.
Aisha purred like a cat. “So…responsive.” She bent over me, smiling into my glazed eyes, and kissed my lips. I couldn’t contain my moan – nor did I want to. I was shaking so hard I could barely hold myself upright. Melissa Windeyer, strong, powerful, admired and desired by all, was on my knees with a cock in my ass, being totally controlled by this woman. I shook even harder as I realized that I wasn’t just a room whore – not just fuck meat. This was personal. This was about me. She was doing this to
me, Melissa Windeyer.
She straightened up, her hand still in my hair, her touch electric as ever. “Jack…fill her mouth.”
Jack Ramirez smiled and stepped forward, positioning himself behind me – above me as Aisha tilted my head way back, lining up my mouth up for his shaft, which now loomed inches from my lips. I didn’t need to wait for Aisha to instruct me. I opened my mouth. Jack didn’t wait either. He pushed his hips forward and slid his long thick veined shaft into my mouth, over my tongue. I groaned but I didn’t gag as I took him deep into my throat.
“Mmmmm,” crooned Aisha. I couldn’t see her now – all I could see was Jack’s balls as they brushed my face – but I heard her voice as though it came from inside my head. “Such a receptive throat.” I trembled there, body arched backwards, filled at both ends.
I was uncomfortably reminded of the night with Edward, Henry and Britney in Henry’s apartment, after Brit and I had destroyed those two prissy society bitches on the beach. All three of them had made love to me, the guys in my mouth and pussy, Britney playing with my breasts and belly button. This was very different though. That time I had been loved, adored, worshipped by close friends, not used by strangers with their cocks down my throat and up my ass while their wives and my lover looked on. I had no power here, no control over what was happening to me, or what was about to happen to me. Aisha held all of us in the palm of her hand.
“But there’s one hole left to fill,” Aisha went on. “Let’s see what a third cock can do to you…shall we?” My eyes opened wide again, and I groaned around Jack’s cock. I felt him pulse in my throat and that feeling made my tummy churn and clench, making me feel Bill’s cock even more intensely in my ass. I shuddered as another mini-orgasm rocked me.
“Edward…you’re no doubt intimately acquainted with Melissa’s pussy. Would you do the honors?”
I couldn’t see Edward approach, couldn’t see the look on his face – and I was infinitely glad of that – but I sensed him kneeling astride Bill, in front of me. I felt the head of his cock nudge my belly button, the heat of his flesh, the hardness of it. I moaned again around Jack’s cock, my body trembling.
Edward ran his hand gently up my tummy…cupping my left breast firmly. I gasped, then trembled at his words. “It’s ok Melissa…enjoy it…embrace it.” His soothing tone did little to reassure me.
I moaned even louder when I felt his cock head touch my streaming sex. Then I cried out, a high-pitched squeal that even Jack’s cock in my throat couldn’t muffle, as Edward – my Edward – slid deep inside me with a single smooth motion. My whole body went rigid. I’d never felt so filled. My inner muscles clenched tight as I came yet again, even harder, just from the fullness.
My arms were flung out wide, though I didn’t even realize it until I felt hands grasp my wrists and hold them out even wider. I knew even without being able to look, that the hand on my right wrist was Aisha’s. I could feel the electricity in her touch.
I shuddered harder as I felt soft warm lips on my breasts. “She’s deep already…really deep.” The voice was Vanessa’s – the psychologist whose husband had his hard cock buried to the hilt in my ass, grinding under me, making me rock back and forth on Edward and Jack.
“Almost ready to lose it,” agreed Lisa, the mayor’s wife. It was her mouth on my other breast, and they both sucked hard on my so-sensitive nipples. The sweet sensations made my insides clench and another orgasm, harder than any before, shook me like a tree in a storm. The climaxes were coming harder and faster. I dreaded how intense they might become – and I yearned for it at the same time.
Jack began to push deep into my throat, then partway out again. I gasped for breath between thrusts, moaning as his movements rocked me downwards, deeper onto Bill and Edward, pushing their cocks into me harder. Wet sucking sounds erupted from my mouth with each deep stroke of Jack’s cock. Drool ran from my mouth, up over my cheeks, into my yes and my hanging hair. My head was spinning. I felt light-headed, felt myself slipping away, not into unconsciousness but instead into some altered state there was no me, no Melissa Windeyer, only a craven cumming creature utterly consumed by my own passion.
It was Jack who came first, exploding in a torrent, deep with my throat. I gulped frantically on his shaft trying to swallow it all, almost choking on him. The feel of him stretching my throat, the taste of his cum completely destroyed the last of my self-control, and I clenched hard with every muscle, squeezing Edward’s and Bill’s cocks inside me, as the ever-more-rapid orgasms blended into one long, hard ultimate climax. I barely heard them groan out loud together, but I felt them pulse and spray their seed in my pussy and my ass, and that – three men cumming inside me in the space of a few heartbeats, as their wives sucked and nibbled on my breasts – sent me plummeting downward into ecstatic oblivion.
*****
Awareness slowly returned to me, and with it a dull ache that permeated every muscle in my body. I was laying on something soft, something comfortable, certainly not the strenuous arched position I’d been held in earlier as the group had fucked me – literally fucked my brains out. I groaned.
“Welcome back.” I didn’t need to look to know that Edward was smiling. I groaned again as I turned my head. My neck hurt. I blinked and opened my eyes. Edward was sitting propped against a pillow, my head in his lap. We were alone, in a huge but unfamiliar bed – not our hotel suite. Golden sunlight streamed in through floor-to-ceiling windows.
Edward was naked and so was I. His cock, flaccid, lay against my cheek as I looked up at him. What must he think of me? I, Melissa Windeyer, had just been gangbanged in front of him – he’d even been part of it. I searched his eyes for scorn, for ridicule, but I saw only the same affection I’d always seen.
My hands glided weakly to my waist. My dress was gone. I lifted a heavy arm to my throat. The chain – my collar – was there but my thong was missing. I shifted my body gently, timidly on the thick snow-white comforter, and moaned softly as my insides protested, still aching from their recent ravaging. “How long…have I been out?”
His smile widened a little. “Well…not counting the twenty minutes or so when you were out of it but still cumming hard, before you really passed out...you’ve been asleep about three hours.”
My eyes widened and my mouth opened in surprise. My face felt crusty, coated with my own saliva and God only knew what else.
Edward stroked my matted hair softly. It too was stiff and sticky with juices from places I didn’t want to think about. “Aisha says we can rest here as long as you need to…even overnight if you want.” He smiled again. “Unless you want to go back to the hotel and have a quiet evening there.”
It took me a few moments to gather my thoughts, but then I pushed myself up to a sitting position, biting my lip against the ache in my muscles. “Neither, Edward.”
He raised his eyebrows and I continued, “We’re going back to the hotel…but just to change clothes. Then you’re taking me out to dinner. It’s our last night here, and I’m not going to spend it cooped up our hotel room.”
It was more than that, of course. The last thing I wanted was to hide away, to dwell on the memory of what had just happened to me. Now that I thought about it, of course, it hadn’t really been my own fault – the people of this town were just naturally, incredibly horny, and why wouldn’t they feel desire for me – Melissa Windeyer? That, combined with Aisha’s powerful presence and rather a lot of wine – well, nature had simply taken its course.
“Now…where can I get some clothes?”
TO BE CONTINUED…
