Making a Woman of Him Ch. 16

"You like videoing your little escapades, don't you, Mr. Capstold?" She advanced the video again. This time, the tortured cries were from a young blond woman, a trickle of blood running down her spread thighs. "Not that it matters, but do you remember this little piece?"

John licked his lips, looking at the woman crying and struggling, remembering that night. Fuck that was sweet! He recalled silently.

"Right." Yvette paused the screen, the image of the young woman's face frozen in mid-scream, her naked body stretched open. "Are you aware, that at the time you were having fun, this woman was probably under-age?"

John didn't react at first, lost in the reverie of that night. What a piece of ass she was. God that was fantastic. "What?" He looked up at her. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Jail-bait, Mr. Capstold. Statutory rape. Not to mention what appears to be a brutal physical rape." She saw the realization sweep across his face. It was a beautiful thing to watch. She wasn't 100% certain, but the initial investigation she had done left it sufficiently ambiguous to make her case. She continued her bluff. "My attorney has located her. It wouldn't take much to have her press charges."

"You're fucking kidding me..." But he didn't look at all amused. Just the opposite. He looked like he was starting to feel – royally fucked. "Fuck." It was his turn to stare anywhere but at the television. "You fucking bitch," he spat out. "This is blackmail!"

The look on their faces was precious. So precious she had wished she'd had a camera handy. A feral smile spread on her face. "And from what I've heard, you both are comfortable with conducting business under those terms." She let the silence hang between them.

"Right. So, now that we have the basics taken care of, let me fill you in on some details.

"1. Your asses, figuratively and literally, perhaps, are officially mine. As of 1PM yesterday, I own you. We'll discuss what that means over the next several weeks. But for now, and starting right now, get over any thoughts of personal freedom.

"2. You'll begin making preparations to travel abroad with me. My associate and I are about to go on our European tour and you'll be assisting us. No doubt between the two of us you'll be able to provide proper accommodations. We'll discuss the itinerary tomorrow.

"3. Starting in the next few minutes, you'll begin your training. I've been told you are excellent prospects to serve my needs; I'll need to discover that for myself.

"While you mull that over, why don't you mix us some drinks Millard? I'll take a Scotch on the rocks." She put the remote down, letting the video continue to play in the background. It was kind of Roxie to provide a highlights reel of the two boys' playthings. She had rubbed herself raw the night before studying it, intrigued by Millard's submissive tendencies and a little concerned at John's sadism. "John? Perhaps you could give me a little tour of your toy box?" She motioned to the desk, the implication clear.

He was still hesitant, but due more to caution than arrogance. As he began to pull out a variety of harnesses, dildos, whips, clamps and devices, the purposes for which she could only imagine, Millard arrived with drinks.

"Hmmm..." She studied the paraphernalia while she sipped her drink. "I'm sure I don't know what half those things do, boys, but before the evening is out, I think you'll be able to show me, right?" She said it coyly, as if she might be the object of their demonstrations, but with enough menace to leave it open to question. "All of this has made me a little hot. You don't mind if I get a little more comfortable, do you?"

They smiled tentatively. This was more familiar territory.

"Not at all, Ms. McMillan. Is there something we can do to help?"

"Now, that is more like it, Millard. Yes, I think there is. Perhaps you could do me the favor of removing all of your clothes and putting them in a pile over there. And when you are done, please stand in the middle of the room in front of the TV."

Millard froze for a moment considering her request, looked around, swallowed the rest of his drink and shrugged his shoulders. It was going to be a kinky afternoon, that was for certain, but he hoped her prior comments about owning him weren't for real.

"And as for you, John. Perhaps you could help me out of my things?" She arched an eyebrow at him seductively.

He jumped at the chance. He had been mentally undressing her the moment he'd walked in the door. He didn't need any more encouragement.

She set down her drink and raised her arms over her head, opening herself to him. He practically attacked her blouse, unbuttoning quickly, pulling the tail out of her skirt. Slipping it over her shoulders he pulled it off one arm and then the other, all the while looking at the tops of her breasts in a half-cup bra.

As he moved to unhook her skirt, she returned her attention to her drink, as amused by his eagerness as she was bored with the preliminaries. Feeling the air against her bare thighs, she waited for him to undo her bra and work out how to take off her stockings. By this time, Millard was standing where she had directed, his pecker starting to swell. Typical. Sheesh.

John stared at the stockings, garter and underwear. He'd never seen anything quite like it – her bush visible but discreet behind the material. He found the hooks and eventually removed everything, leaving her standing nude, looking at him as if he were a school child, sipping her drink, waiting.

"What?" He was confused – he stared at her body – there wasn't anything left to take off.

"You're overdressed, wouldn't you say?" She turned away, leaving him to stare at her tight ass.

Refilling her drink she turned to Millard. She eyed him, noting his sleek build, the muscles of his chest and arms so much more pronounced than Chester's. He had slimmer hips, but his thighs were thicker. She barely noticed his cock – that was immaterial at this point. She wondered whether she had anything in Lyssa's line that would work. She sighed, realizing they'd have to try things on...

He was facing toward her as she approached, staring at her, his eyes focused first on her breasts and then down to her bush. She smiled and walked around him. A pretty nice ass, she had to admit. Nicer without the hair for certain. She continued to size him up as she moved around him.

"So," she said softly, coming to stand up against him, her breast against his arm. "You like it a little rough?" She lowered the glass below his balls and raised it up. He jerked. "Especially, when it comes to your little man?" She brought her other hand down to cup his ass, spreading his cheeks apart.

He gasped as the ice pushed against his balls. "Hold it there for me, Millard."

She walked to the desk looking over the stuff there. "John," she turned to see he had stripped as well, "come and tell me what this is for." She pointed to a dildo-gag, knowing damn well what it was. He came over, his cock bouncing against his thigh.

"Which?" He took a drink and looked at where she was pointing, pausing. "That's a dildo-gag..." He stopped as he looked at her face.

She was staring at him, an eyebrow raised.

"No...you...you want me...?" He raised his shoulders and backed away a little trying to decipher her look. All he could see was a small nod as she took another swig from her glass. His eyes drifted down her naked body, to the dark patch of hair between her legs, and he felt his cock jump. They'd only made the girls wear it, but looking at her, her legs spread slightly, all of a sudden it didn't seem like such a bad prospect.

Assured John was gagging himself, Yvette returned her attention to Millard.

"You," she said addressing the naked Millard, "will be known as pony-boy from now on." At Millard's realization of the implications, she smiled wickedly. "I am inspired by some of the toys John brought.

"And you," confirming John had buckled the gag into place, "will be known as snail-cunt. Simply because you are slimy and not so quick.

"Your training begins right now. And as is proper in these circumstances, you each have a safe word. But. Using it only prevents the training from going too far. It doesn't save you from training. We'll figure something out one way or the other. Do you understand?"

They both looked at each other, at the television and at her, one resigned, the other still defiant. She spent the next quarter hour going through the details – safe words, her training objectives and a little peek at their future. By the time she had finished, Millard's balls were numb and her drink was diluted from the melted ice.

And so it brought her to the present moment, with Millard's anguished cries in the room mixing with the sounds from the television.

"How hard is he, snail-cunt?"

John had been focusing on fucking Millard's ass, surprised that in spite of the nausea, his cock was stiffening. Each time Millard shifted, John was reminded of his hands holding his thighs apart, his nausea returning. Now, he would have to go further and actually feel the pussy up; he'd never touched another guy's dick and was almost ready to use his safe word. He stopped, trying to figure out what to do next. A sharp slap across his cheeks pushed the dildo further into his friend's ass.

"Well?"

Closing his eyes and trying not to breathe too deeply, he reached up and under Millard's raised thighs, until he felt the hair on his balls brush his fingers and...a little further up, his wrist brushing the front of Millard's pelvis and then...a thick erection. He probably is enjoying this, John thought disgustedly. He pulled his hand back and gave her a thumbs up – the universal sign for erections.

"So it's obvious he isn't going to come just by you fucking his ass. Help him out."

John's stomach lurched again at the prospect he'd be jacking Millard off, while he fucked his ass with his mouth. How did I get myself into this??? He paused, briefly, continued his pistoning and took control of his disgust and humiliation. Moments later, he pushed his hand back under Millard and gingerly wrapped his fingers around the fucker's hard-on. It was not easy to move his fingers, keep the dildo going and not collapse onto the rug, but apparently Millard didn't need much help. Within a couple of strokes, he felt Millard's cock pulsing, and choking back a little vomit, he felt the jism spurting out, the sound of it hitting rug mixing with Millard's gasps and protests.

"You see boys? That was just hard enough, eh? Now, get up and present yourselves to me as I instructed you earlier. The day is still young, and I have ever so much for you to learn."