Messrs. X, Y and Z

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The rules have been forgotten, their girl will be corrected.
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Mr. Z came home from work early. The office had been slow and it was Friday. The whole weekend was before him, so he had ducked out early to get a good jump on the work free days ahead. He parked his car in his space inside the six-stall garage that was attached to the huge, perfectly landscaped house. He lived in this house with two friends, Mr. X and Mr. Y, and with Miss El. Well, actually just El. She had no title. She was all the Messrs. girl, and they did with her as they pleased.

Mr. Z moved through the house. He was home alone, for now. He knew El was out for lunch with her girlfriends, showing off her newest car. It was a high-end model that Mr. Y had bought her. She drove a new car every three years, bought in a rotating cycle by all the men. El didn't work outside of the house. She was responsible for the household and all three of the men. She did work hard, and she was generously compensated. Besides a new car every few years, she usually had at least three vacations a year, sometimes more. She was available to travel with each man, plus she was allowed to take a vacation with her girlfriends.

The Messrs. liked their lifestyle. They all had a girl they loved and all the sex the craved, from private to group. And by pooling their money, they lived grandly, if not unorthodox. Everyone who knew them, knew of their living arrangement, and passed no real judgement. Most were curious, wondering if they could live the same way. The men especially liked the idea of having a girl at their complete and utter disposal, and many wanted to experience group sex, but the boys didn't allow that. If El was interested, like she had been when she first met Mr. Z, then X and Y permitted it, otherwise the answer was no. And El had never been with another girl. The boys wouldn't allow that either. Z thought their decision was based a little bit on fear. What if the girl was better? He knew they wondered and worried about that. Although El showed no interest in other girls, they had been approached with offers, and their answer had always been no. Overall Mr. Z doubted any of their friends could live they way these four did.

They had a precise, structured way of living. The bills were split in an even way, and the girl was split much the same way with no hint of jealousy or possessiveness. Although, when it came to El, there was a bit more flexibility. But even that was carefully planned out on a monthly calendar which was planned out three months in advance. No, he thought to himself as he checked the X, Y, and Z calendar, we four are special, different. We share, we cooperate, and we like each other's company, in and out of the bedroom. He had joined this cozy little family almost four years ago. The other three had been cohabiting since before their college days. He was a good, final fit to their family, and he was glad to join them

He noticed the mail neatly stacked on the kitchen counter. He opened the cabinet to consult the calendar hanging on the door inside. He smiled when he noticed it was his weekend, starting tonight, that El would share his bed. His cock twitched excitedly.

He picked up the mail. The bill paying was his duty. He grabbed a beer from the fridge, quickly read the dinner menu El had left hanging from a magnet there, and took a seat on a stool at the breakfast nook. He cracked open his beverage and did a quick scan of the mail before he opened each item and sorted through the pile. His joy of having El to himself this weekend and his to play with was soon replaced with shock and displeasure. He carefully set aside the credit card bill, and as he finished with the rest of the mail, he began formulating a new weekend for El.

Mr. Z was still sitting at the breakfast counter, drinking his second beer, when he heard El come home. He watched from the kitchen window as she pulled into the garage. His cock was rock hard and throbbing hotly. He was going to punish his little girl, and he would have to bring her transgression to the attention to Mr. X and Mr. Y. This was something he could not handle alone. It was his duty and his responsibility to share what had happened with the other boys. He glanced back at the bill, and his blood boiled! She had over spent on her credit card, and that was completely unacceptable.

El breezed into the kitchen, keys and purse in hand. She looked adorable in her new white baby doll dress with a sweet purple flower applique. Her white three-inch heels, with a lavender bow at the toe, were a perfect match. Mr. Z noted it all. He knew she had charged it. Even her purse was new and matched perfectly.

"Oh, hi," El said happily when she saw Mr. Z at the breakfast bar. "You're home early."

She smiled at him. She was so beautiful. Blonde, blue eyed, petite, a freak in the rack; trained to kinky, nasty perfection.

El came over to him and gave him a kiss. When he was done kissing her, he held her at arms length, and admired her cute, new outfit.

"I hope you're wearing panties, my little one. That dress is awfully short," he commented.

El laughed easily, "Of course I am. My goodness, you sound like Mr. X. Honestly!"

Mr. Z looked at her and pulled her close, between his knees. His hand slid down her back and he cupped her small buttocks in his large, strong hands.

"You're a good girl, wearing these panties."

El snuggled closer to Mr. Z. She noticed his huge boner and her pussy flickered softly. There was plenty of time for fucking, if he should decide he wanted her.

"Why don't you go to your bedroom," Z whispered into her neck, his hands still holding her sweet bottom. He felt her push against him, getting horny anticipating his desire. His next words to her changed everything, "When you get there I want you to bend over the edge of your bed on your knees with your dress up, your panties down around your ankles, leave your shoes on, so your bottom is bare. I'm going to spank you. You've been a bad, bad girl, and you need reminding."

El struggled against his chest, but he held her captive.

"Shh, shhh..." he whispered in her neck. "Settle down, little one. I'll explain your transgression before I begin. You'll know the reason for your spanking. I promise. Now, off you go. Any hesitance or flippant attitude wouldn't be very wise right now. So be a good girl, and get yourself ready as I instructed."

He patted El's butt as she set off to her bedroom.

Z made El wait a full half-hour before he came to her room, the offending bill in his hand. He placed it on the bed in front of her.

"Look at that," he ordered.

El lifted her head and looked at the paper. It took a moment before she realized what she was looking at.

"Oh, shit," she gasped.

She had thought Mr. Z was game playing and trying to arouse her when he ordered her to her own bedroom, to pull down her panties, to kneel by her bed, to bend over it, and then to wait patiently until he came to spank her. Her pussy had twitched in orgasm as she waited for her Master Z to come and punish her and fuck her. But now she realized he really did mean to punish her.

Z was furious! The bill, the outrageous amount of the bill, and now the foul mouth!

"What did you say?"

El knew she was in deep trouble. She hadn't realized what she had spent the last month! She had an allowance of five hundred dollars a month for clothing. That amount rose to one thousand dollars any month that she was vacationing with anyone of her Messrs. She had no vacation coming and the bill was two thousand dollars! She was no longer horny. She was now very worried.

"Excuse me, sir," she said in the most humble, repentant voice she could muster. Her eyes were locked on the column that told her her balance, told her of her overspending.

"Repeatwhat you just said," Mr. Z demanded.

"I said," El gripped the bed cover in both hands. Her heart was racing, her pussy quiet. "Oh, God. Please, sir!" She knew cussing, especially in front of Master Z was forbidden as unbecoming a young lady.

Z shifted angrily behind her. "Repeat it!"

"Shit, sir. I said a naughty word. I'm so, so very sorry. Please forgive my filthy mouth. I know I am a young lady and should never speak such words, especially in front of my master."

"So God damn right you are," Z told her. "Now, can you explain to me why I have put you in your current position? Can you tell me why I have you kneeling over your bed with your bottom bared?"

"My credit card bill." El gripped the bed cover tighter. This would all be so much easier if her pussy was throbbing hotly, helping her to remain calm.

"And what is wrong with said credit card bill?"

"I'm over my monthly limit, sir."

"What exactly are the rules, limits, parameters, and boundaries that you are restricted to?"

El hated Mr. Z. She hated the way he taught her, nothing kind or understanding or loving. He was always mean and superior and pushy. Oh! If only she could move!

"Well!?" Z demanded.

"I have a limit, a generous, ample limit," she added smartly, "of five hundred dollars a month. My limit goes up an extra five hundred when I'm going on vacation with one or more of my masters, sir."

"Read to me your current balance."

"Two thousand dollars, sir."

"Meaning?" Z asked cruelly.

'I hate you,' El thought. 'Just spank me and be done with it.' She had no idea what Mr. Z had in store for her. No idea how long and how severely he meant to punish her.

"Meaning I am well over my monthly allowance."

"How much over?"

'Jesus Christ!' El screamed in her own head. She hated this type of interrogation. Hated to voice her transgressions out loud while Mr. Z listened carefully, measuring her sentences, her words, the inflection of her voice. She had to be oh, so very careful. But, of course, her mouth and her fear would get the better of her, adding to her already grave situation.

"Fifteen hundred dollars, sir," she confessed.

She fidgeted across her bed. She had made a huge, terrible mistake!

"Sit still, my dear," Z purred. "You may not move."

"Yes, sir."

"And relax your hands," Z further instructed. He unbuckled his black leather belt and pulled it through the belt loops of his work slacks. "I want you nice and loose before I whip you."

El was panicked! She had rarely been whipped with a belt before. She had once or twice received the belt, but that was a long time ago when she and Mr. X and Mr. Y had starting living together, and everyone, mostly the boys, were working out all the rules for her and the household. Mr. X had administered each whipping with Mr. Y watching. The experience had been horrible! She had to figure a way out of her current trouble. She just had to!

El boldly turned her head to look up at Mr. Z and told him, "What's the big deal? It's my name on the card."

Mr. Z laughed. That frightened El. "Whose name is on the bank account that pays the credit card that has your name on it? And who gave you the right to look at me without permission? Get your head forward, eyes down, and answer me!"

"Master Z's name is on the bank account that pays my credit card bill. I had no permission to look at you, my lord. I took great liberty with my spending and with being sassy and to gaze upon you without permission." But El couldn't keep quiet, so great was her worry over receiving the belt that with her next words she sealed her fate, "But any extreme punishment has to be okayed by all my misters."

Z held his belt, doubled in half, loosely in his left hand. He stepped forward, El's words echoing in his head, and yanked her head back by her hair. He put his face one-inch from hers, and told her in a calm, measured voice, "Who says giving you the belt across your naked, well over her credit card limit, bad girl butt is extreme?"

El was worried. She couldn't handle the belt, and Master Z always punished her harshly, so much harsher than her other two masters. Her fear made her brash, and mouthy. It made her a fool.

"You need Mr. X's permission to use the belt on me," she hissed back at Mr. Z.

His expression didn't change as much as the level of his ire did. His steel gray eyes snapped into absolute anger, his hand gripped El's hair tighter, and his resolve hardened. He knew she was right about Mr. X. Although all the men had absolute authority over their girl El, X had rule over everyone. He was the supreme leader of the household, and sometimes he had to make the final decision about some issue. His one voice was an important tool when opinions were spilt, and was a stopper when situations become out of control. Z knew he should, by rights, inform X about what he planned, but he knew his decision was appropriate. He decided that he would proceed with El's correction, at the level he felt necessary, and if Mr. X disapproved, they could discuss it later after El was put to bed.

El's fear intensified when she saw the change in her lord's face. She knew it was coming, like it or not, permission or not, she was going to get the belt. Tears sprang to her blue eyes, and her pussy still remained silent, abandoning her.

"Wrong, you mouthy shitty child." Z finally said, his cock jumping to red-hot life. "I have equal power here in our house, the men's house. You havenone. None!" He jerked her head back further by her hair. "You are mine to do as I see fit."

El, fool that she was, a fool forgotten by her own pussy, and being controlled by her sassy defiant mouth, spoke slowly and clearly and very, very stupidly when she hissed at her captor, "You...don't...have...permission."

"That's it!" Mr. Z released her hair, stood, and barked at El as he left the bedroom, "Get back into your correct position and stay put."

El did as she was told. Again Mr. Z left her alone for thirty minutes. Her pussy was still absent, nothing stirred in her crotch, and she was beginning to think she had managed to get out of her whipping when Mr. Z returned. She just knew he would release her from her current predicament and she would be spared, for now, from his belt. She was truly a little girl, a fool from which she could not hide, because she never guessed what came next.

"Open up." Master Z held a wet, soapy full bar of fresh soap in front of El's mouth. He did not touch her in anyway; she would be required to take the soap into her mouth willingly.

El looked at the bubbly, wet bar, and a whimper escaped her lips.

"Come on," Z coaxed. "Open up and take your soap. There's a big girl," he told her as El opened her mouth and Z slipped the bar halfway into her mouth. "Now close. Big girl! Now, you hold that bar in your sassy, nasty mouth until you have learned your lesson. Cozy back over the bed, arms stretched high, no gripping the sheets, you will remain relaxed. Head forward. It's time for your whipping."

El did as she was told. The soap was horrid! Never had she had her mouth washed out! The fresh bar of soap had been worked into a plentiful lather and it filled her mouth. It was bitter and it burned her sassy tongue. But its real punishment came with the first lash of Mr. Z's belt across her naked bottom. The pain was so great that she bit down, instinctively clenching her jaw, and her teeth suck down into the detergent, helping it to release its bitter punishment.

Mr. Z had never used a belt to discipline El. As a child, he knew the neighbor boy received the belt by his father. He had heard those events sometimes, as he walked home, never feeling sorry for his friend. He had heard the leather against his friend, but as he administered his own whipping to his disobedient girl, he knew his friend had, at least, his clothes on when his father corrected him. The leather's slap against the fleshy mounds of El's ass was clear and loud. The sound stung.

He smiled as he watched El's bare butt turn red in precise even lines all down her butt. He enjoyed the muffled sounds from her mouth as she held the bar of soap between her lips.

"Don't you dare spit that soap out," he warned. He aimed another swipe of the leather to El's bottom. "You hold that soap in your nasty, back talking mouth, and accept your punishment." Another well placed lick with the belt. And another. And another.

El held the bar of bitter soap in her mouth, her teeth halfway through its thickness, and suffered through her whipping. Her ass was so sore and painful, her pussy so cold and gone from her, her mouth so full of suds and salvia because she didn't dare swallow, that she began to cry. She couldn't help herself. She bawled and regretted, regretted her unmindful, grand behavior. She knew better.

Mr. Z stopped, and as he put his belt back around his slacks, noticing the massive bulge in his crotch (he'd offer it to El if he didn't think of her sucking him off wasn't a reward) told her, "That is one fine color of red on your bad little bottom, Miss. Nice, neat stripes across your backside. That's testimony to my excellent aim, the beauty and balance of your stripes. Quite perfect, I'd say. I did a good, precise job. Didn't I?"

El nodded in eager agreement. Her face still wet from her spent tears.

"Huh?" Z asked. "I couldn't hear that. Oh, oh, that's right. Your mouth is being punished too. Corrected to remember just who the hell you are, and how you are totalk to your superiors!You may remain as you are, butt bared, soap in mouth until I come and get you to start dinner."

Mr. Z left the room and helped himself to another beer.

El, unwilling to swallow the sudsy water in her mouth, drooled all over her bed sheet. She'd probably catch hell for it, but she had no choice. The soap was disgusting and tasted poisonous, but it was working. She never wanted to mouth off or sass or cuss or over spend again in her life.

Mr. Z finally returned and allowed her to rid her mouth of the soap. He had to help her because her teeth had suck so deep into the soft bar. She was still kneeling down, bent over her bed.

"Oh, my," Mr. Z tut, tutted. "My belt must have delivered my message. Look at these teeth marks. Maybe we should keep this. Display it for you. Help keep you focused. How does that sound? Should we buy a nice glass case and put your bar inside. Prop it up in your bedroom so your remember what happens to little girls that sass and disrespect her betters."

"Yes, sir," El gagged.

"You soiled your bedcover. Strip that off and put on a fresh cover. You may rise and get to work. You may not replace your panties. You may not rinse your mouth."

El worked quickly, running the soapy bedcover to the laundry room. She eyed the wash basin thirstily. She wanted to wash the soap out of her mouth, but didn't dare. When she returned to her room and finished replacing the bedcover, Mr. Z had her stand, her left side to him, and he held her left wrist in his left hand. With his right hand he lifted up her dress and looked at her bare butt.

"That looks like one sore ass, Miss," he commented. "Describe it to me."

"It is sore, sir. You are quite skilled with your belt. I have never felt so corrected, never so loved."

Z's cock thumped back to life. When she put her mind to it, El was brilliant.

"You've been spared a lot of cuts. You have just a few. You'll have a tender backside a few days, but that's tough isn't it?"

"No, sir."

"Why not?"

El hung her head, her mouth bitter, her ass bared. "I deserved my whipping."

"And?"

"And my bar of soap."

"God damn right you did. Hold up your dress." El grabbed it in her right hand. Z swatted her ass. El jumped. "Arch your back," he told her. He spanked her with his bare hand. "Why don't you count for me, baby? Nice and clear. Let's hear your shitty mouth behaving today." His hand began to work.

"One! Two! Three! Four, five, six," El counted. Her butt was beyond sore and blazing hot! "Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen..."

At twenty hand swats, she was allowed to stop counting. Mr.Z next used a paddle on El's bottom, and was paddled again to twenty. She was forced to thank her daddy, Daddy Z, for loving her after each swat of the wooden board to her bottom.