Stealing Cassie Pt. 02: I am Theirs

He grabs my hair, turns me to face him, "Do you understand, slave?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Good. You may begin."

I place my mouth over Becky's and send my tongue on a sweep and search mission for her tongue until she responds.

But when the first blow strikes her rump, she tenses her entire body, and I feel the blow's power expressed in her kiss. My mouth muffles her groan of pain. No, not muffles ­ I absorb it all, take it and make it my own.

We kiss and kiss, and I feel the physical suffering each blow elicits in her. But beneath the pain, I also sense pleasure accumulating, like Magma about to jettison. Now it is she who dominates me with her lips and tongue, kisses me ferociously. My hands remain bound behind me, and it drives me half-insane that I cannot run my palms across her soft flesh.

For a moment Josh stops his beating. She slumps, barely supporting herself with her high-stretched arms. THen I sense him behind me, undoing my bound wrists.

"Now, slave, listen carefully: I have freed your hands because they have important work to perform. If you do this right, I will know just what a good little slave might be capable of becoming. Are you listening, slave,"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Good."

"As well as kissing this slut, you will pinch her nipples as I beat her. Do you think you can do this for me, Slave."

"Yes, Daddy".

My mind is in confusion; I have no idea how hard he wants me to pinch.

When he releases my hands, I rub my wrists and then fill my palms with Becky's large breasts. Before I kiss her again, I look her in the eyes, perhaps hoping they will reveal her acquiescence to what I am about to inflict on her. All I see is a fearful anticipation.

I clamp my mouth over hers again and feel her tensing as the beating resumes. The repeated thwack of leather on her rump thrills me. I sense her suffering, her pain revealed as an exasperated self-control that flavours her kiss. I sense something extraordinary growing within her, intensifying with each thwack!

I pinch her nipples rhythmically in time to his blows. She hums her appreciation into my mouth. We kiss and kiss, and she moans louder as I pinch harder and harder. I imagine how sore her nipples will be later. Her cries reverberate into my mouth, and I feel a joyousness in being a part cause of her pleasure in suffering. I love having her naked here next to me, my hips pressed into hers as I pinch her nipples and gag her with my tongue.

Josh comes to me, takes e from her, eases me down from the stool and leads me over to a black leather spanking horse that stands at the opposite end of the room to the St Andrews Cross is positioned.

"Lie on here, slave ­ No, on your belly," he tells me.

He secures me to the contraption by my legs and arms with leather straps. The leather is cold against my flesh. I turn my head to the side and rest it there, feel its chill on my cheek, breath in the familiar shoe-store aroma of tanned hide. He tugs hard, and my arms are pulled down straight. My legs are splayed, and I feel the night air between my butt cheeks, fresh at my cunt.

I hear the winch and know he is lowering Becky down. Then the scratch of a key against metal as he unclips her shackles.

"You enjoyed our attention too much," he says to her as he brings her over to where I lie spread out on the spanking horse. "It is time to serve up a different dish. Now on your knees, slave."

I try to turn my head to see the two of them over my shoulder, and I just make out Becky going down on her knees directly in front of my butt. I imagine the sight she sees between my spread legs.

"Now, slave! Pay attention: You love pussy, don't you, slave."

"Yes Daddy," she says weakly.

"With more enthusiasm, Slave. Say it. Say: I love pussy'."

"I love pussy," she says with forced enthusiasm.

"But what about butt-hole ­ have you ever tasted girl-butt before."

"No, Daddy, never."

" Have you ever wondered what it might taste like, slave."

"No Daddy, I never have."

"Not even the tiniest bit curious?"

"No, Daddy."

"He grabs her hair and pushes her close to my butt. "Look at Salve's butt, how smooth and round it is, see how it has split so you can see her cute little pucker." Then his exasperation with her "­ for fuck's sake, slave, open your fucking eyes. OPEN THEM NOW!

He stoops down at her side to make sure she is looking. He runs the crop over my buttocks and then down the crack of my arse.

"Doesn't it look good enough to eat?"

She does not answer.

"I asked you a question, slave: doesn't her butt look good enough to eat?" He tugs on her hair, hard."

"Yes Daddy," she says.

"Yes Daddy what? Say it properly."

" . . . looks good enough to eat."

"What looks good enough to eat!" he yells.

"Her butt," her voice is barely audible.

"Well eat it then, slave. And let me hear how much you enjoy it."

He pushes her face into my butt; her nose goes deep between my cheeks. He grinds her face into me as he calls out, "Eat her, eat the bitch, eat her now."

And then her tongue is on my anus, and I feel it burrowing like a tiny mammal; it probes and probes, flickers and twists, and is the most thrilling sensation I have ever experienced. I want to touch my clit as she gobbles me, please myself in time to her tongue's gyrations, but my hands are bound. Such pleasure without fulfilment delivers me to my witts end.

She laps at me, moans her appreciation ostentatiously, for him to hear, to leave no doubt.

"Good, good, way-to-go, slave," he says, and again pushes her into me and firmly holds her in place.

She struggles to breathe. I can sense her rising panic until pulls her from me. I hear her desperate gasps for air

"Have you learned something tonight, slave," Josh says to Becky.

"Yes, Daddy."

Tell me then, slave."

"I have learned that I am not to be selfish when I am with Daddy in our special place," she says.

"Have you learned anything new tonight, perhaps acquired new taste?"

"Yes, Daddy . . ."

"What is it, slave."

"I love to lick girl-butt,"

"You have redeemed yourself. You are once again my Darling Girl.

But what about me. I am humming with a need for cock. I want to be filled, satiated by a man.

But all they do is unfasten my binding and lead me back to the house. We sip wine at the breakfast bar, friends back from a party.

In bed that night I masturbate over and over, but it is not enough. I spend the night tossing and turning.

When I awake the next day, I realise it is Monday, and I have to work. I consider phoning in sick, but I need to get stuff sorted. The weekend has been like some phantasmagorical fantasy. I begin to doubt my sanity.

I have not even unpacked, have to get my work blouse and skirt from my suitcase. Is it only two days since I packed my things and they came for me?

I wonder how I will function at work and if I should come back to this place, or should go home and try to put things right with Ian?