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TRIO PART THREE.

Mistress Agnes.

When Sherri made her entrance, I could see that Marie was surprised but not shocked. I loved Sherri in that outfit with the apron as a small hint of health and safety that simply made her look even sexier. Marie and I both had a bit of fun examining and fondling Sherri’s bottom before I sent her off.

We discussed what had happened in the week and Marie seemed genuinely to have enjoyed herself. I got the impression that it wasn’t just the thought of the lifestyle that had excited her but her first taste of another woman’s body under her hands.

I gave her the usual tour and we ended up in the dining room. I was hoping she’d ask first but, as she didn’t, so I brought up the subject of the dungeon.

When I first opened the door, she walked in calmly but then stopped still, frozen to the spot. I gave her a couple of minutes before I took the other key and walked past her to the cupboard. I unlocked it and opened the doors wide. Almost in a trance she came over and looked inside. Although it looked a little like a wardrobe the inside was a tier of shelves. Neatly arranged on them was my full collection of toys.

“I’m sure you recognise many of these from your hours spent on the internet.”

I swept my hand along a row of vibrators neatly arranged according to size. “I’m sure you have one or more of these at home.”

She blushed and nodded. “And these,” I asked indicating a row of silicone or glass dildoes. Again, she nodded. I picked up a medium-sized butt plug and held it out to her. “And this?”

“I … I know what it is, but I’ve never used one. It looks really big,” she said nervously.

“Don’t worry,” I said trying to ease her worries, “That one’s not for novices. I always start people off on this one.” I picked up the smallest of my plugs, a sweet little thing in hard black plastic, barely an inch in diameter. Even that one brought a look of alarm to her face.

Smiling to myself I turned and placed it back on its shelf and picked up one of the floggers. It was a thing of beauty and craftsmanship. Made of black leather with twenty strands and a solid handle covered with neatly plaited leather.

“Now this I’m sure you recognise. After all you have been caring for the effects of its kiss all week.”

“Oh, is that the …” she stammered her attention suddenly on the item in my hand.

“The very one,” I said and smiled while giving it a couple of swishes through the air in front of her.

“I’ve seen pictures but never …” her voice trailed off.

I reversed my grip on the handle and held it out to her. nervously she took it from me and gently swung the tails back and forth. I moved to one side and pointed at the leather horse.

“Why not try it out,” I suggested.

She blushed but stepped forward. She hesitated before lifting her arm and swinging the flogger down almost tenderly on the leather of the horse. She glanced back at me, a half-smile on her face.

“Harder,” I encouraged her, “I think my horse can take more than that.”

She swung again, harder this time and made a satisfying crack on the leather. Another glance at me and I nodded approvingly. She swung it several more times, each being bolder and harder than the last. A broad smile formed as she did so. I was surprised at the end how much force she managed to put into it.

“For someone so small you have an amazing arm,” I complimented her, “there is only one problem. You don’t really know your own strength.”

I held out my hand and she passed the flogger back to me. She was still beaming but her look slowly change to a puzzled expression.

“Let’s try a little experiment,” I suggested, and I place my hand on the small of her back redirecting her attention to the horse, “just bend over that for a moment.”

I felt a tremor run through her, but I guessed she knew she had little choice. She probably knew a moment like this would come at some point over the weekend. Looking back at me, her face full of fear and doubt, she slowly bent over the horse.

“Good girl,” I said and stroked her back, “don’t worry, I’ll be gentle with you the first time, but you have to learn what the flogger’s kiss feels like.”

She didn’t move when I slipped my hand from the small of her back and across her buttocks and took the hem of her dress and lifted it up. Her cheeks were pristine and unblemished and had a lovely overall tan that contrasted nicely with the narrow green string of her thong. I stepped back and let the moment linger and was pleased to see she remained completely still. My first blow was as gentle as I could make it, almost a caress, but she jumped nonetheless. She did, however, stay draped over the horse. I struck again, harder this time, and I heard an intake of breath. A third strike, a little harder still, gained the first tiny yelp. On the fourth and fifth her yelps became louder and the sixth was rewarded with a loud “Oh Fuck!” She started to stand upright but my hand on her back told her to stay still.

“No more flogger, I promise,” I said softly, “but coffeedonutfest.com I want to try one more thing before dinner.”

I put the flogger back in the cupboard and picked up the small butt plug I had shown her earlier. I coated it liberally with lube and turned back to her. Her cheeks were now visibly red, and I stroked them gently before pulling her thong to one side a revealing her pretty little anus. I stroked it with a lubed finger and she shuddered under my touch but obediently stayed in her place. I placed the tip of the plug against her hole and pushed very gently. She tensed up at the sudden intrusion.

“Relax,” I told her, “it’s only the smallest one.”

My comforting words seemed to have little effect, but I continued to press the plug home. I was being deliberately slow in doing so, wanting her to savour and enjoy the whole process. I watched as the fattest part slowly opened her and then suddenly disappeared inside. I neatly replaced the cord of her thong across the centre of the plug base and then stood back to admire her. What a transformation! Five minutes ago, she had shown me a perfect suntanned bottom and now it was a lovely pink, crossed with a wealth of narrow welts and in its centre the black base of the plug showed itself proudly. It was with regret that I lowered the hem of her dress down to cover it and took her hand to help her stand upright. She looked at me with a face that was a mix of emotions.

“You’ve been a very good girl,” I said, smiling at her, “how do you feel?”

“I … I … really don’t know,” she answered honestly.

I pointed to the other side of the door where a full-length mirror hung on the wall.

“Why not have a look,” I suggested, “I think you look even lovelier than before.”

**

Marie.

When Agnes opened the cupboard, I couldn’t see inside from where I was standing so I moved closer and looked in. It was like a display from a sex shop. There were shelves all the way up, and they were stacked with goodies. I knew what some were straight away and recognised others from when I’d browsed sex shop sites, but there were other things that I could only hazard a guess at.

She smiled at me and took out a vibrator. She guessed I had one of them at home and I nodded shyly. I think I also blushed as mine was identical to the one she’d picked out, the one I carefully hid from my mother in a box under the bed. She showed me a couple of dildos, one of which was beautifully crafted in glass and which I knew to be quite expensive. The next thing she held up scared the life out of me. I’d seen all about butt plugs but this one, to me, looked huge although when I glanced in the cupboard I could see even bigger ones on display.

I managed to stammer out something and she grinned. She picked up another one which she assured me was her smallest one although it still looked very scary to my eyes.

I was relieved when she put it away and picked up another item. I was back on familiar ground again. It was a flogger, and not just any old flogger, but the one used on Sherri last weekend, the one whose effect I had been caring for all week. When she passed it to me I felt a strange tingle. It was a lovely thing and the plaited handle felt good in my hand. I swung it back and forth a few times getting the feel of it. Then she invited me to try it out on the horse.

Oh, what a thrill! To start with I was a bit nervous and gentle but at her prompting I started to lose my inhibitions. Each blow came harder and my arm felt a new strength. I stopped because I was beginning to get seriously aroused and my panties were too small to absorb much. I was stronger than I looked she told me and then the moment came that I had both dreaded and looked forward to. It was my time to feel the flogger for the first time.

I could have just said no but part of me wanted to find out what it felt like. What led a girl like Sherri to actually want it? I knew I couldn’t deny myself the experience, so, in answer to the insistent prompting of her hand on my back, I dutifully bent over the horse. I felt very vulnerable when she lifted up my dress and exposed my bottom. The wait for the first blow was torture and when it came I jumped. It didn’t really hurt, just a slight sting, but I had the suspicion that worse was to come. And I was right. Each blow that followed was harder than the one before. The last, the hardest of all, made me swear out loud. Then there was nothing except silence. My bum stung like mad and I nearly started crying. I began to straighten up thinking my ordeal was over but her hand on my back pushed me down again. Obviously, we weren’t finished yet.

I waited for what seemed an age before I felt a hand on my bottom again. My thong was pulled to one side and a slippery finger slid between my cheeks and started stroking my arsehole. I suddenly realised what was about to happen. I was going to be plugged. Determined not to move, my only thought was that it would be the smallest one but even that one scared me. I felt something start to enter me. I’d used a finger on myself before, but my hands were only tiny, this thing just kept getting bigger and bigger. I tried to relax but it wasn’t easy. Just as I thought I would tear apart the agony stopped. There was still something there, I could feel it inside me, but the painful stretching had stopped. My thong was put back in place and my dress pulled back down and with Agnes’s help I stood up and she invited me to check myself out in the mirror by the door.

I was almost too scared to look but, in the end, curiosity got the better of me. Standing with my back to the mirror and looking over my shoulder I slowly lifted the hem of my dress. I found a sight familiar to me from the past week. Although by no means as extensive as Sherri’s had been there was still the pinkness. Running a hand across it I felt the familiar ripples where the strands of the flogger had bitten into me. I was surprised at how warm it felt this soon after the event. What made mine different to Sherri’s was the black circle of the plug that had been planted in my bottom, neatly bisected by the thin string of my thong.

“Pleased with the result?” she asked me.

I was still confused so I replied, “I’m not sure what I think yet.”

She came over and put her arms round me and together we gazed into the mirror. I knew then that an act such as this was one of affection and I almost cried.

“Thank you,” I managed to say, and she kissed me on the forehead.

She stood back and took my hand. “Let me show you my special chair,” she said and led me over. “What do you think of it?” she asked.

“It doesn’t look very comfy,” I admitted.

“It’s not designed to be,” she replied, “but it has some very special features. Let me show you. Why don’t you sit down?”

It looked hard and unwelcoming but not dangerous, so I sat down. It certainly wasn’t friendly to my bruised bottom and the hard seat pressed against the base of the plug making me feel even more aware of it. She explained that the chair was made to her own design and its purpose was to restrain the sitter. As she was talking she went down on one knee and I felt something soft go round one of my ankles and become tight. Before I could protest my other ankle was quickly fastened. My feet were trapped. She stood up again. Between my thighs were two sets of catches the same as are used for car seat belts. I very quickly found out why they were there. Wide straps came over just above my knees and clicked into place and were then tightened. She pushed my dress up my thighs and another pair of straps went over just below my pussy. I was beginning to get nervous again. Nervous but also excited.

She told me to put my hands up over my head. I did so, and a pair of leather cuffs were wrapped around them. When I tried to lower my arms, I found I couldn’t. She then slowly wound a crank that stuck out of the back of the chair and my arms were slowly hoisted up until I was quite tightly stretched.

“Now for the best bit,” she said, thoroughly enjoying herself at my expense.

There was another crank coming from the side of the seat which she started to wind slowly. It took me a while to realise what was happening. The seat was being split in two to form a V shape and my legs were being forced apart. Slowly my thighs were forced further and further apart and as they did so my dress was forced higher and higher until the tiny triangle of my thong was clearly visible. So too were damp patches on the fabric and even on the tops of my thighs. I was hoping that Agnes wouldn’t notice but it was a vain hope. She stopped winding the crank even though I guessed there was still more available. I sat there, unable to move and totally exposed to her gaze.

“I can see that your time in this room has quite excited you, little Marie,” she taunted, and I blushed deep red. She reached down and stroked the front of my thong and there was nothing I could do to stop her. But I didn’t want her to stop. I craved her touch. “You’re very wet, my dear,” she said.

I tried to reply but when her hand slipped inside my thong and touched my pussy I nearly came right there and then. It was the thought that she wouldn’t approve that stopped me.

“And neatly hairless as well. I like a naked cunt,” and she slipped a finger inside me. I was struggling to retain my sanity and I moaned involuntarily. “Does little Marie want to cum?” she asked.

I couldn’t trust my voice, so I nodded my head and pleaded with my eyes.

“Not good enough, I want to hear you say it.”

It took nearly all my willpower, but I managed to whisper, “please.”

“Please Miss Agnes, may I cum,” she demanded of me as a second finger went into me.

I took a deep breath and tried my best. What came out was almost inaudible and barely intelligible, but she decided to look favourably on my feeble attempt.

“Well done, girl,” she said after a delay, “yes, you may.”

And I did. Oh, wow, did I, all over her hand and all over my thighs. My thong was a sodden scrap. It seemed to go on and on and reality blurred. I sensed her fingers slowly coming out of me and she wiped her hand on my dress. I didn’t care. I was so happy.

Slowly I came back to normal. Instead of feeling dirty and ashamed I felt joyous. My arms were lowered, and my wrists released. The straps came off my thighs and ankles and I slumped in the chair. As my thoughts cleared the sting in my bottom and the harsh feeling of the plug came to the fore once more. I looked over and she was locking the cupboard. For the time being my time in this room was over. I stood up, a little shakily and walked over to her. Every step made me conscious of the plug and the wet feeling of the thong between my legs.

My voice had come back, and I felt I had to say something. “Thank you, Miss Agnes,” was all I could manage but it brought a smile from her. She led the way out of the room, locking the door behind her.

“It must be almost time for dinner. I’m going to wash my hands first then I’ll find out when it will be. I’ll be right back.”

“May I also use your …”

I was cut off abruptly. “No, I want you like that for now. Wait here.”

**

Sherri.

It was lovely to see Marie. She looked really pretty in her green frock and heels. It was a bit embarrassing when Mistress showed me off to her, making me turn around and display my bottom. It was almost back to normal with hardly a mark on it thanks to Marie’s care and attention during the week. I’d wondered what she would make of me working naked in the kitchen, but she didn’t bat an eyelid and seemed to take it as the natural course of events.

I was glad to be dismissed and, as soon as I had served the wine, I went back to the kitchen. There was little else to do as most needed cooking just before serving but I knew that Mistress wanted some time alone with Marie. I was still puzzled about Marie’s interest in us, but I must have said something for Mistress to have invited her. Throughout the week Marie had been very dominating in her dealings with me but I was worried how she would cope when she met Mistress.

I guessed that she planned to show her round and that the ‘dungeon’ would be part of that tour. We call it the dungeon more as a joke because a room less dungeon-like would be hard to imagine. Mistress hated the internet clichés of dark, dingy and forbidding rooms and ours was painted white and had a window that faced onto the back garden. It was only made sinister by the equipment in there. I wondered what Marie would make of it. Would she be disappointed? What was she expecting? I knew she had been watching videos so probably had an idea what a ‘proper’ dungeon should look like.

I heard them go upstairs and then, a short while later, come back down. Then their voices grew fainter and I guessed they had gone into the dining room and on to the room beyond. It seemed like forever before I heard their voices again, albeit briefly.

And then, “Sherri,” I heard Mistress call, “come here for a moment.”

Luckily, I had finished my prep ages ago and was filling in my time before the final flurry of cooking dinner started. I left the kitchen and went across to the dining room and what I saw there came as something of a shock. Mistress sat in her usual seat at the head of the table while Marie stood to one side. Her eyes were firmly fixed on the floor and she was blushing bright red. I glanced down, and she was in something of a mess. The front of her frock was all crumpled and her thighs were streaked with runnels of moisture. When she looked up at me she seemed to have been crying.

“Marie and I have been having fun in the dungeon,” announced Mistress, “I introduced her to the delights of the chair.” Marie blushed even more and looked away at anywhere but me. “Unfortunately,” continued Mistress, “she’s very messy when she cums. She needs cleaning up a bit before dinner, don’t you think?”

I looked at Mistress and I knew what she was asking of me. I walked up to Marie and knelt in front of her. The floor was hard under my knees, but I ignored that. The front of Marie’s dress was covered in damp patches and, as I lifted it, I smelled the heady scent of her orgasm. Her thong was tiny and dark with her juices. I leaned forward and started to clean her thighs with my tongue. She tasted wonderful and I was in heaven ministering to her. I was repaying her for all the kindness she’d shown me during the week. I cleaned her as best I could, even trying to suck the moisture from her thong.

“Well done Sherri,” Mistress interrupted my attempts, “doesn’t she taste lovely?”

I sat back on my heels, “Yes, Mistress, delicious,” I replied, happy to tell the truth.

Then she turned to Marie, “turn around, Marie, and lift your dress. Let Sherri see the result of our fun and games.”

Marie gave me a shy smile and slowly turned around. She lifted the frock up and showed me her bottom. From my kneeling position it was at eye-level and I was pleased to see she had tasted the flogger! It looked lovely and I was a little bit jealous although it was obvious that Mistress had gone easy on her. I was even more jealous when I saw the black disc between her cheeks. Mistress had even made her wear a plug! I hadn’t been allowed the feel of one for what seemed like ages.

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