Molly and the New Editor Pt. 05

Now Miss Gwen (the editor) commands, and Molly (the writer) obeys.

That was the relationship the two of them now had, built on mutual trust and respect. Molly respected that Miss Gwen would always honor her limits, and Miss Gwen respected that Molly would not disappoint her.

However, what Miss Gwen told Molly over the phone did give her pause. Molly was naked, as she seemed to always be these days when writing. She was also kneeling, holding the phone to her ear, because the moment she heard Miss Gwen's voice, she dropped to her knees, as was expected.

"Please say that again, Miss," Molly requested.

"It's all quite simple, slut girl," Miss Gwen stated. "The man I'm telling you about organizes kinky parties for his friends. He saw you as the table decoration at the dinner party, and watched you being used by those men. He called me to ask if it might be possible to hire you for his next party."

"Hire me? Like he wants to pay me money to get fucked at his party, Miss?" Molly choked out.

"Oh don't worry, my little bitch. I know you want to keep your amateur standing. In hiring you, he won't pay you - he'll pay me. Even though I know you're a slut, we'll not turn you into a prostitute." Miss Gwen thought a moment, then continued, "Unless you beg me to experience that profession for some upcoming story, of course."

"But didn't I hear you say that he wants to 'test me' or something, Miss?"

"Yes, girl," Miss Gwen confirmed. "He always does that. He needs to test your reactions to certain situations. His parties deal with quite a bit more humiliation than you've experienced up until now."

Molly heard the word 'humiliation' and shuddered. That could mean so many things. But she also recalled being tied naked to that bed, when the three strangers walked in to see Eric's cum plopping out of her gaping ass hole. How mortified she felt being seen like that, and hearing their lewd comments. But she also remembered how she actually wanted those strangers to use her somehow, and how she'd confessed her excitement about it to Miss Gwen.

"And you won't be present while he's doing this, Miss?" Molly's voice squeaked slightly, betraying her fear.

"Molly," Miss Gwen said, grabbing her attention, since Miss Gwen rarely addressed her by name in these interactions. "I've known this man for many years, and I know his character. I trust him implicitly. I would be shocked if he did anything untoward with you. He knows it would ruin our relationship if he did, and he could end up shunned by his friends. Do you trust my judgment, girl?"

Molly didn't hesitate to answer, "Yes, Miss. I trust you. It's just that this is the first time you're asking me to 'solo' as it were."

"Yes, I am," her editor answered. "I think it's high time you did. He is also aware of your 'yellow' and 'red' safewords, and will certainly honor them, if necessary."

This is how Molly, on a warm summer day, came to be whisked to the isolated home of the mysterious Mr. X in Miss Gwen's town car. She kept fidgeting in her seat, wondering what he might do to her during this test. Upon their arrival, the chauffeur hopped out and hurried to open Molly's door. As he helped her out of the car, the chauffeur mentioned, "Miss Gwen instructed me to bring you here, wait for as long as it takes, and take you back to her office, afterward."

Molly, very nervous, impetuously gave the chauffeur a quick hug, murmuring, "Thank you." Since they were right on time, Mr. X was waiting for her on his front steps.

"You must be Molly," he said, standing with his arms crossed, looking her up and down.

"Yes, Sir," she answered, resisting the impulse to shyly scuff the toe of her shoe on the ground as she regarded his daunting body language. He seemed to emanate power, causing her to feel very small and intimidated.

"We may as well get started with your testing," he stated. "Take your clothes off."

"Here? On your front steps?" she exclaimed, feeling her thumping heart try to leap from her chest.

"Is there something wrong with your hearing, bitch? I said take them off!" he ordered, forcefully.

Molly was afraid his loud voice had carried back to where the chauffeur waited, so she glanced over her shoulder. That was a bad idea, because the movement of her head actually attracted his attention, so now he was also focused on her.

Face reddening, Molly reached behind her back and unzipped her dress. Stepping out of it, she rued the fact that she'd dressed with garters and stockings, wanting to look her best for this interview. Bemused, Mr. X, and probably the chauffeur as well, watched as her shaking hands undid the stocking clasps, and then rolled each stocking down her thighs and legs.

She stepped out of her shoes, and removed the rolled stockings from her feet. Straightening up, she became aware that she was now standing in a bra, panties, and a garter, outside on his front steps. She realized that the more she dawdled, the more likely it was that other people, driving by, might see her. Quickly, she unhooked the garter belt, then her bra, and dropped them both on her dress. Taking a deep breath, she fairly yanked down her panties, and now stood nude before him.

"Can we go inside now, Sir?" she begged, hunching over and hooking one arm across her chest, while her other hand splayed to cover her sex.

"There's no rush, girl. Put your hands behind your head, and stand up straight, with your feet shoulder width apart," he commanded.

As she did so, the placement of her arms made her breasts lift invitingly, and she could feel the slight breeze wash over her exposed flesh. She was especially aware of the breeze moving between her spread thighs, touching her outer labia. She blushed, praying no cars would be driving by, no meter readers would suddenly appear, and no delivery vans would choose this moment to arrive.

Mr. X commented rhetorically, "See these marks on your flesh made by your bra straps, garter, and the elastic of your panties? If you're given the privilege of serving my guests at a party, I want no such lines. Wear a simple dress - nothing else." Molly flinched, hearing another failure mark going down on his mental score sheet, and her blush deepened when Mr. X gestured to the chauffeur, summoning him.

"Yes, Sir?" the chauffeur queried as he reached them.

"I need to ask your opinion of this slut," Mr. X said, pointing at Molly. He lifted one of her tits. "Is this appealing?"

Mortified, because the chauffeur had never seen her naked before, Molly held her breath, very aware of Mr. X's hand cupping her breast. The chauffeur looked long and hard before answering. "Yes, Sir. I would say it's very appealing."

"I tend to agree, but it's nice to have a second opinion," Mr. X concurred. Addressing Molly, he said, "Girl, bend forward and brace your hands on your knees."

Molly brought her hands from behind her head, and leaned forward, visualizing the now even more raunchy display of her body. Mr. X and the chauffeur went out of sight behind her, leaving her staring at his front door. Moments later, two powerful hands seized her ass cheeks and pulled them sideways, exposing her privates.

"And this cunt?" Mr. X grumbled. "Do you think it's seen much action?"

After a moment of two, the chauffeur replied, "I'd say she's definitely not a virgin, Sir." Molly's pupils dilated, hearing the two men so casually engaging in gutter talk about her.

Mr. X guffawed. "Here. Hold her right ass cheek over to your side."

Molly felt a smaller, cooler hand take control of the right side of her butt, and realized the chauffeur was now pawing her. She considered protesting, but stayed silent, hands braced on her knees. She jerked slightly as unexpectedly, a finger prodded her anal ring.

Mr. X intoned, "This hole here. Do you feel its ever been used?"

The chauffeur chuckled. "Rumor has it that she's been broken in there as well, Sir." Molly gasped, wondering how widespread such rumors might be, and who was instigating them.

"Is that true, slut?" Mr. X asked Molly. "Do you take it up the ass?"

Shocked by the directness of the question, Molly sputtered a few times, finally murmuring, "Yes, Sir."

"What?" Mr. X asked. "We couldn't here you back here. Louder, using a full sentence."

Molly felt like her face was on fire. "Yes, Sir, I do," she answered.

"You do what? And speak even louder, so anyone in the yard can hear," he demanded.

Hoping that no one else had really entered the yard, Molly said loudly, "Yes, Sir! I take it up my ass!"

Mr. X gave her a quick slap on her ass cheek, making her yip. "Now, that wasn't so hard, was it? Straighten up, hands behind your head again." Dismissing the chauffeur, Mr. X opened his front door. Gripping one of Molly's nipples, he yanked her inside. She winced, and stumbled after him.

Once they were inside, Mr. X led Molly by her tit into his living room. They were alone. "Feet shoulder width apart!" Mr. X barked at her. Molly realized this was the pose he wanted for inspection. He examined her hair, testing its silkiness and bounce. Picking up a small, but powerful, flashlight, he beamed it into Molly's ears, nose, and mouth, making her feel like she was some sort of animal, being examined by a veterinarian. She tried to remain stoic, but was failing miserably.

"Get on the floor on your back, arms down along your sides," he next told Molly. She appreciated the beauty of the hardwood floor, although not its rigidity, as she reclined on it. "I'm going to lift your feet up past your head, girl," he informed her. "This will lift your hips up into the air. Plant your elbows on the floor and brace your hips up with your hands as I help you into position."

He stood, straddling her waist as he faced her feet. Grasping her ankles, he lifted them up, and stepping backwards, pulled her feet back past her head and well out to either side. This left Molly holding her hips up, with her cunt directed vertically. Since her legs were wide apart, her whole sexual area was prominently displayed. If anyone stood near her butt, facing her head, her legs and thighs made a large "V" shape, converging at her cunt.

Mr. X examined her labia - outer and inner - very carefully with his flashlight. That delicate flesh was rubbed between his fingers, as if testing its thickness. He also stretched each lip as far as it would go, which made Molly groan with slight pain at each maximum. He picked up a speculum, lubed it slightly, and screwed its closed jaws deep into her cunt, before ratcheting it wide open. The beam from the flashlight shone so brightly into her vaginal tunnel that Molly could swear she saw its glow emerging from her lower abdomen. This was worse than being in the stirrups at the gynecologist's office!

She was relieved when Mr. X let the jaws close again and withdrew the speculum. But she actually shrieked softly as she felt him press the jaws against her butt hole! She grunted as he pushed the metal device deep into her nether hole, and then experienced the very strange sensation of air rushing into that normally tightly closed passage as the speculum was cranked open! She had no idea what he was looking for, back there, but she was extremely grateful that she'd clean out her rectum thoroughly before this appointment. It was bad enough having a clean rectum inspected. She shuddered to think how it would have appeared otherwise.

Finally, the speculum was closed and withdrawn. Without a word, Mr. X walked out of the room. Molly wondered if she should stretch out on the floor, but he'd not told her to change positions at all. She decided to play it safe, and remained as she was.

Minutes later, he returned, and stood by her upraised ass. Looking down at her, he smiled. "Good little bitch. Waiting for orders, I see." Suddenly, he dropped down, shoving two fingers into her cunt, and placing his lips so he could suck both the upper region of her slit, and her clit. He fingered her furiously, and sucked so hard her labia fluttered with obscene, sloppy wet noises, and her clit felt like it was in a vacuum cleaner's nozzle. She shrieked in shock, but continued holding her hips up in offering.

His fingering and sucking were so intense that she couldn't hold back her orgasm for more than a few minutes. As she started to cum, he pulled his lips away, still fingering her cunt hard, but now slipped his thumb and finger repeatedly from the base of her clit to its swollen head, as if trying to pull cum up out of a miniature cock. Molly's resultant orgasm was so intense that she squirted her juices straight up into the air! They arced at their peak, and splatted down on both people below.

"Yes! Wonderful!" Mr. X gloated. "I remember you squirting at the dinner party. Most impressive. Sit up now."

Heart thumping hard, a dazed Molly sat up. "Hold your hair up out of the way, bitch," he commanded as he produced a dog collar. Very swiftly, the collar was buckled firmly around Molly's neck. The click of a leash's snap hook sounded loudly in the room as Mr. X attached one to the metal loop in the collar.

"Get on your hands and knees, you nasty little bitch!" he ordered. When she'd done so, he grabbed the back of her neck, and forced her nose down into some of her cum that had pooled on the hardwood floor. "Look at the mess you made! Bad little bitch! Lick it up!" He released her neck and stood back holding the leash.

Shaking with indignant humiliation, Molly started licking her cum up off the floor. She was apparently not doing so fast enough to suit him, because the loose end of the long leather leash flicked painfully across Molly's unprotected ass. Her yelp of dismay blended with his cry, "Faster, you lazy bitch."

Not wanting to feel another such flick, Molly licked like a demon, searching frantically for all the small pools of cooling cum. But again the leash cracked on her ass flesh as he pointed with his toe, "You missed this spot!" She scrambled and lapped rapidly. When she'd finished, she held herself motionless as he inspected his floor. "Took you long enough, you useless piece of trash," he snarled.

Molly's flesh quivered and she physically cringed from his insult. She was trying to do her best. Beads of sweat sprang out on her forehead, betraying her elevated dismay.

"Let's see if you can move gracefully, crawling at the end of my leash. Heel, bitch," he intoned, as he started to walk.

Molly blinked, confused by the word. The leash went taut, and she was dragged a few inches forward as he stopped.

"Don't you know anything?" he said, sounding exasperated. "Heel means your head or shoulders should be alongside my left leg as I move. Get into position, stupid girl."

Molly felt a combination of indignation and abasement - indignation, because she'd never had a dog or seen one trained, and abasement because of the abuse he was heaping on her verbally. However, as she scrambled on her hands and knees to get by his left leg, her body had a strange reaction. She felt a funny tingling in her stomach, that radiated into her pussy. She couldn't look to check, but it felt like her labia were engorging! Was she getting excited by being humiliated by him?

She couldn't dwell on those thoughts, because Mr. X was walking again, and she had to crawl fast to keep up with him. He was changing speeds, and watching her movements, judging her grace in motion, and learning what paces made her break her rhythm.

Molly tried to crawl sensuously, envisioning herself as a magnificent feline, perhaps crawling through the jungle. But the spell kept getting broken as her tits swayed and banged together as they dangled under her torso, and her mind kept wondering what her ass must look like as she crawled. The fact that her thigh movements kept tugging directly on her outer labia, and indirectly on her clit was not helping with her focus, either.

It was during one of her internal dialogues and loss of external focus that Mr. X brought them to the proximity of his front door. Molly was snatched out of her reverie as he opened the front door, and the warmer, fresher air washed over her. He was taking her outside! And she was naked, and crawling like an animal!

Molly balked. The leash went taut, jerking against Mr. X's hand. He looked down with an angry scowl, and stepped back to where Molly had stopped. His open palm cracked harshly against her ass cheek, making her yip with pain. "Heel!" he said loudly, and started walking out the door. The loudness of his voice had alerted the chauffeur, who looked on with an attentive expression.

Molly, more embarrassed than she'd ever been in her life, up to this point, went scarlet as she became aware of the chauffeur's scrutiny. The heat of her shame seemed to put her head and neck on fire. She crawled with her head hanging down, staring at the grass. Noticing this, Mr. X tugged sharply on her collar via the leash, commanding, "Head up! Eyes front!" As Molly complied, she was horrified to feel her cunt juices streaming down her thighs! She was undeniably aroused by this humiliation! She tried to process how this could possibly be happening, but ultimately gave up. She couldn't ignore her body's reactions, or rationalize them away - she merely accepted them - another step toward submission. She actually wondered if she was subconsciously making exaggerated torso movements to 'show off' her tits to the chauffeur.

All that crawling under the warm sun got Molly pretty sweaty. When they reentered the house, Mr. X said, "Not too pitiful for a first time, bitch. You may improve with practice. Get on your feet now."

Molly gratefully got off her hands and knees and stood upright, not bothering to try to cover her nudity with her hands now. The feeling of submissiveness was growing inside her. She stood still as he unsnapped the leather leash, and then unbuckled the collar from her neck. "Follow me," he commanded, as he strode away, not looking to see if she was obeying. He led her to one of his bathrooms. "Get in the tub, and kneel," he instructed her, as he began removing his clothing.

Molly thought the large, glass enclosed shower unit would be a better choice, but she mentally shrugged. Looking forward to the possibility of washing off the sweat and grime from her body, not to mention the grass stains on her knees, Molly entered the tub. The surface was cool on the parts of her body that touched it.

Mr. X stood close to the side of the tub, but didn't enter it. His penis was limp, resting against his scrotum. "Cup your hands below your tits," he told Molly. "I have to take a piss."

Molly's pupils dilated with shock. Her mind echoed the word 'piss' even as her body reacted, raising her hands and cupping them. She looked at his groin, seeing his hand reach down to grip his penis, and aim it at her hands. Stunned, she stared at the tiny slit in the head of his cock, still not convinced he was serious. He was going to pee on her? If she hadn't been part-way into that state of submission, she might have said 'yellow' or even 'red' - her safewords - and brought a halt to this. But she didn't. She stared at that penis' slit and watched with exciting horror as a yellow stream arced from it!

Her mind registered the warm splash of fluids on her hands, and the pungent, but not unpleasant tang of urine in her nostrils. Her cupped hands filled quickly, some urine overflowing onto her knees. At first, she thought the contact of the piss on her tits was due to splashes from the pool in her hands. But then she realized he was raising his cock, aiming higher, now pissing on her tits directly! And the stream was arcing even higher! Instinctively, she closed her eyes, just in time. Mr. X was pissing right onto her face and up into her hair! She felt the hot fluids flowing over her eyelids and closed lips. The stream hitting her hair was running down her back. She was awash in piss before his flow ceased.