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Some of my friends have asked me to write about the past Fourth of July weekend I spent with my two female lovers. It has taken me a little while to get around to it, but I am very excited to relive some of the fun we enjoyed, even if I don’t tell you everything.
As many of you know, I have been seeing two young women for some time now. They knew about each other but had never met. One is Candace, a lovely 29 year old with whom I’ve been involved for over two years, a very long time for me, which only indicates how deeply we fulfill each other’s fantasies. Candace is a lesbian and very, very submissive. We both derive terrific enjoyment from my domination of her. It is a form of love that is a little hard for someone on the outside to understand, but compelling and intensely stimulating for those involved.
Brianna is quite another story. She is 24 but seems younger. Beautiful, fresh-faced and a little innocent, Brianna is a straight girl I had the good fortune of meeting after breaking up with her boyfriend. She refers to me her “first major adventure.†Words cannot convey the intimate pleasure of holding her nubile young body in my arms as she gazes up lovingly with those big crystal-blue eyes. I know that before long a wonderful young man will come along and steal this beautiful angel away, but I count myself lucky to have found and enjoyed her.
When the idea struck me to invite them both for a long Fourth of July weekend in the Hamptons, I must admit that I was assailed by a thousand conflicting thoughts. What if they didn’t like each other. What if they became very competitive. What if... mirabile dictu!... they were attracted to each other and excluded me! Nevertheless, in a spirit of adventure and perversity, I decided to press forward.
We met at Penn Station for the long train journey out to East Hampton and I was simply delighted that the girls took to each other rather nicely. We chatted amiably, discussing clothes, schools, travel and all the little trivia that new found friends make use of to become acquainted. The trip, generally a boring ordeal, was extremely pleasant and passed rather quickly.
This was on Thursday. By Saturday, the three of us were feeling very comfortable around each other and I could not have been more pleased by the turn events were taking. I must confess at this juncture all my fears were blown to the winds. Saturday night I took the girls out for a lovely dinner and some drinks and dancing at the Lily Pond. When we got back to the house I suggested it might be fun to put on our nighties and have a bit of a slumber party. The girls were very excited and dashed off to change.
I lit candles, put on some music and placed a little bag of “toys†by the table. We laid out chilled white wine and snacks and settled on the living room floor like a group of high school girls. We laughed and joked for a while but I got the distinct feeling that if sparks were really going to fly, I would have to provide the kindling. At the optimum moment I mentioned that it pleased me more than I could say that they had hit it off so well and that it would excite me immensely if the two of them would kiss! Immediately Candace shot me a wide-eyed glance and Brianna giggled. This, of course, was not unexpected. I persisted. “Please,†I urged them on. “For me.†A moment later they leaned towards each other and kissed. Before long their tongues met and they embraced each other intimately. I could see they were excited and, believe me, so was I!
I held out my arms toward Brianna and she came into them like a child yearning for affection. Her green baby doll nightie and tiny matching panties hid nothing of her soft, sensuous charms. Our lips met and her tongue pressed into my mouth. As we kissed, Candace remained on the floor near my feet, eyes cast slightly downward, her face radiating a pure, intense longing. Do not think for a moment that I ignored her. I have found that the more I deprive her, the more wanton Candace becomes.
Brianna and I kissed and kissed and kissed. After quite some time, I slipped off her nightie. I kissed down her lovely body to the little girlish breasts and took the pale pink nipples in my mouth, nibbling and teasing them. I took my time moving down her belly and over the tiny mound to her sex. She was becoming terribly aroused and her hips gyrated from the excitement. Her sex lay wide open like a little rosebud, its petals moist with dew. I licked her sweet lips and little anus and as I did she moaned audibly.
I pinched the clitoral hood with my fingertips until the little bead emerged. I took it in my mouth, tormenting it with my lips and teeth and tongue. Her moaning increased and her breathing became rapid. I pushed two fingers into her body, palm upward and began to stimulate her G-spot, speeding up and slowing down my stroking to delay her orgasm.
Meanwhile, Candace could hold back no longer. She knelt behind me and raised my black negligee. I was so ready for her. I was terribly excited and could feel droplets of my honey rolling down my thighs. She spread my cheeks and pushed her face into my sodden nest. She licked my openings while she teased my clitoris and thrust her tongue deep into my ass. There is no one alive, regardless of sex, who is more capable of exciting a woman with her tongue and fingers as Candace. And there is no one more qualified to say so than I. It wasn’t long before I was in a delirium of pleasure.
It is at moments like this that I lose all sense of time. It might have been ten minutes or two hours. We were joined, the three of us, in an unconstrained orgy of desire: moaning, writhing, throbbing. After what seemed like ages of this, Brianna’s body tensed, her head lolled from side to side and her eyes rolled back. Her orgasm lifted her back off the floor and coated my face with her sweetness. But her excitement only spurred on my own. As I watched the sweet thing thrasing and sighing, I felt the telltale sensations in my own body. As Candace tormented my sex I was suddendly racked by a tumultuous orgasm!
The three of us collapsed together on the floor in a soft embrace barely able to breathe. We shared the sweetest kisses. But it was clear that one of us was still awaiting her pleasure. It is at times like this that I usually finish Candace with a big, studded “strappy.†Tonight I had other plans. When we were finally able to move, I instructed Candace to lay back on the carpet. I told Brianna to sit on Candace’s mouth, facing me and to wiggle her bottom to get a tight fit. Of course Candace didn’t waste a moment getting busy on Brianna’s sodden sex.
I reached into my little “toy bag†and drew out a long, slender dildo which I ran up and down Candace’s pussy lips to lubricate and slid it deep into her anus. I’m sure she fully expected the big strap-on, but I wanted to try something I’d never done before. I extended four fingers straight out and began to slowly insert them in her sex. She was so moist and open I had no difficulty at all putting them inside her. Now I removed my fingers and curled them back and pressed the second knuckles into her. After a few moments of this, my entire fist had disappeared into her body.
I started to drive into her, deeper and deeper, harder and harder. I twisted my wrist, now left, now right, now left again. Candace gasped, partly I’m sure because Brianna, driven half insane by the tonguing and the sight of my forearm thrusting like a piston, came loudly and violently in Candace’s mouth!
My powerful thrusts were pushing Candace to the edge. She gasped and heaved and convulsed. She no longer had any control over her body. Each time I drew my wrist back, a wave of her vaginal fluid followed. I told Brianna to reach down and strum on the swollen clitoris. That did it. With a cry of delight, Candace came!
I kept my fist inside her for some time after, twisting and gently pushing. Brianna kissed Candace and licked her own sweet honey off Candace's face. With a final gentle thrust, Candace came again, a soft, gentle orgasm that left her with a heavenly glow.
The sun had long since come up and I reckoned it was late in the morning by the time we made our way into my bedroom and fell on the bed, Candace and Brianna and your very, very happy Queen Victoria.
I have had a number of requests from my friends to speak about my two marriages and some of the experiences I had as a married woman. Those of you who have come to know something of my history realize that both my marriages, while very different in themselves, were open relationships. I made both my husbands fully aware before we married that I was bisexual and had every intention of continuing having sex with women. That I also mixed in an occasional tryst with a man should not be that matter of wonder it might first appear. Let me relate to you a little story about my second marriage that I believe you may find diverting.
I was married for the first time at the age of twenty-five to a man I had met while I was in the fashion industry. My husband was an executive for a fashion magazine in New York, a very charming, handsome and virile fellow named Andreas. He was in every respect a Type-A personality, obsessed with success, a confirmed workaholic. Our marriage was doomed from the outset as the tabloids like to say. Often left for long periods to my own devices, I ran around on him terribly. It seemed we were constantly apart, often on different continents. The marriage was all over in three years.
Not terribly long after my divorce, I married again. My new husband was quite a bit different than my first. He was a vice president for an iconic investment bank on Wall Street and, although he was also driven to be successful, he could be counted on to be home for dinner and not constantly dashing all over the globe. He was however, for all his power and wealth, totally, hopelessly and abjectly submissive to me. We had first met, in fact, at a “fetish and femdom†party at a downtown club.....but that's a story for another day.
I must heartily admit that at first I adored the overwhelming attention I received from Roger. He showered me with flowers and jewelry, took me to exciting clubs and restaurants and generally stood by, American Express at the ready, to fulfill my every whim which, if you know me, takes a good deal of fulfilling. But that was not all. Not nearly all. Each afternoon when he arrived home from work, he would prostrate himself on the floor in front of me and would not rise until I had proffered a daintily turned foot for him to kiss. He was, for all this, a vigorous, ardent and exciting lover, and yet, for reasons I could never fully fathom, he usually could not achieve his most potent and robust erection until I had secured him to the footboard of the bed and thoroughly reddened his bottom with a leather strap!
Although, up to that time I had never considered myself a “dominant personality,†I had played that role on a number of occasions and found it intensely exciting whenever I did. In dealing with Roger’s strange compulsion, therefore, I saw that it was indeed a predilection thoroughly congenial with my temperament. In this, at the very least, Roger and I were not at all incompatible.
As you might well imagine, it is not long before a woman in such a position begins to feel as though she can do whatever she wishes. I occasionally took weekends alone with friends, had female lovers (and an occasional male) and generally felt free to satisfy my lusts with whomever I pleased. Once in a while I even invited a female lover over for the night. On such occasions, Roger would be relegated to the guest room while my inamorata and I shared the master bed. New York apartments being what they are, of course, he could hear every word and sound!
Eventually I chose to throw caution to the wind and declare my absolute freedom of action. I decided to inform Roger that I had invited a charming young boy over for dinner! I told him that under the circumstances I had given our housekeeper the weekend off and that I wanted him to cook and serve us dinner. I must admit that for all the audacity I had acquired in my marriage, I entertained some slight trepidation over how this little announcement would be received. After a long pause, he glanced slightly downward and whispered “Very well, darling."
Gregory was a twenty year old artist studying at the Art Students League here in New York. He had a slender, athletic build, large, dark, soulful eyes, shimmering black hair and an innocent and infectious smile. I was attracted to him immediately, notwithstanding the ten year difference in our ages. I had first run across him at a Soho gallery and we had met for lunch on a couple of occasions before I thought to invite him home for dinner. I had apprised him of the situation with my husband and, although he was titillated by the sheer brazenness of the proposal, he was more than a little apprehensive at the idea of a romantic dinner with an attractive woman in her home while her husband was present. I was not altogether confident myself, truth be known, but my adventurous spirit being what it is, I couldn't help but press on.
On the appointed day, I visited the hair dresser's while Roger remained in the kitchen cooking. Returning home, I took a leisurely scented bath, made up and slipped into a sexy little taffeta dress that I was fairly sure would drive both men crazy. Wishing to extract the maximum pleasure from my husband's humiliating plight, I casually strolled into the kitchen, asked Roger to zip me and then modeled the dress for him, inquiring if he thought I looked alright. I must truly admit that the look on his face, one of quiet desperate frustration, was truly priceless!
When Gregory arrived that evening, I instructed Roger to answer the door and make our guest feel welcome. He brought Gregory into the living room where I introduced the two. They shook hands, quite frankly, like two prize fighters before a bout. I seated the charming boy next to me on the sofa and sent Roger off for aperitifs. I could sense that my young guest was patently uneasy, probably wondering what he had allowed this crazy lady to talk him into. But I soon allayed his worries, assuring him that my husband would not bother him in any way, that is, not if he wished to remain my husband!
Dinner was truly marvelous. Roger was one of those men who loved to putter around the kitchen. He was a splendid cook and had prepared a lovely meal: veal scallopini in mushroom sauce served with baby artichokes and a nice Beaujolais Cru followed shortly thereafter by a whipped strawberry and cream dessert over almond crackers. Roger fussed about like a head waiter, serving us, filling our glasses, clearing the dishes. Gregory's self-consciousness gradually evaporated. Although generally a taciturn lad, he could become quite effusive when the topic was art, and the conversation, centering mostly on his work, was sprightly and interesting. I barely noticed Roger was in the room.
After dinner I led the youth back into the living room where I lowered the lights and put on soft background music. Roger brought in brandy and seemed to take overly-long filling our glasses, I can only imagine in order to see what course the evening's affairs might take. Growing impatient with his intursiveness, I brusquely waved him from the room. He returned to the kitchen ostensibly to wash the dishes. At this point any lingering concerns that Gregory entertained were blown to the winds
I began to flirt outrageously and it took very little effort for me to encourage him to kiss me. I returned his kiss sweetly and warmly and before long, I lay in his arms, our hot tongues excitedly intertwined. It was some time before Roger returned, although I had no way of knowing if he weren’t watching us all along. He stumbled back into the room self-consciously holding the brandy bottle and whispered, "Would you care for more brandy?" This was, of course, far too delicious an opportunity to let pass by. I lifted my glass off the coffee table for him to refill and, as I did, my bare breast spilled out of my disarranged bodice. God! I thought the poor man would faint! Then I calmly applied the coup de gras: "Darling," I said coolly, "Gregory will be spending the night. Go turn down the bed and prepare the guest room for yourself." He looked into my eyes for a long, stunned second not quite believing and gasped, “As you wish.†As he walked away I sank back into Gregory’s arms and we kissed again.
At this juncture, of course, I had no doubt that I was quite the mistress of the situation and, knowing Roger as well as I did, was keenly aware that he was deriving an immense, although thoroughly perverse pleasure from the proceedings as well. I needn’t be a pains to tell you that the erotic power I felt was beyond anything I could have imagined.
I walked into the bedroom wrapped in Gregory’s strong arms. Roger was busily turning down the bed covers and fluffing the pillows. Gregory began to undress. I turned my back to Roger and directed him to unzip me. As I felt his hand touch my bare back and undo the zipper, I reached between his legs and assured myself that he possessed a raging erection. Bitch that I am, I forced the poor darling to stand and watch as my handsome young lover and I slipped into bed.
Roger stood by, eyes downcast, waiting for me to dismiss him. I didn’t. The moment was far too pregnant with possibilities to simply let him walk out. I had to have my little joke first. Gregory’s splendid young penis was as rigid as a steel rod, head glistening, veins throbbing. I took up the rampant beast in my hand and licked it’s length once or twice before plunging it into my mouth. Up and down I rode him, up and down, taking it deeper and deeper, until I felt the tip bumping against my throat. Almost as an afterthought I paused, looked up, smiled pleasantly and wished Roger a good night, reminding him to be certain to close the door behind him. “Oh, yes,†I added, “and he may awaken us in the morning with breakfast... but not too early, as I am sure we will be sleeping late!â€
My randy young stud turned out a vigorous and exhilarating lover who more than made up in enthusiasm what he may have lacked in experience. After I had sucked him, licked his balls and probed his anus with tongue and fingers, the poor boy's rampant young cock could have easily serviced a plunging mare. We rutted like dogs in heat for over an hour before he emptied himself inside me. But neither of us was fully satisfied. After a short rest, I took him in my mouth again inspiring yet another rigid erection. Our fucking went on well into the early morning hours and provided Roger with all the moans, groans, grunts and squeaking of springs his tortured imagination could handle. When he knocked on the bedroom door at noon the next day with a tray of coffee and pastries, he found my weary lover and I entangled in the wreckage of the bedding.
As you might well imagine, my marriage to Roger provided me with a great deal of amusement for as long as it lasted. Ultimately his desperate, fawning need to be submissive to me began to bore me. In the end, no matter how depraved a woman may think herself, she desires to be married to a strong man who will take the lead in the marriage. Finally I accepted an invitation from a lesbian friend to spend the winter "shacked up" in her Florida condo. I left poor, dear Roger pining away in New York with a tear in his eye and a letter from my attorney.
Tags: marriage, slave, bdsm, cuckoldry
Twenty years ago I enjoyed a career as a fashion model. During that time I had occasion to work in New York, Paris, London and Milan and found the lifestyle terribly exciting. I had any number of extraordinary adventures during those years but none any more so than the one I shall relate.
I was at home in my New York apartment one evening when I received a disquieting phone call from my friend Stephanie, a gorgeous woman who was married to a wealthy fashion wholesaler. She was in a terribly agitated state. It seemed she had just walked out on her husband. They had both claimed the other unfaithful and had argued violently until she packed a bag and stormed out. She wanted to ask me if she could stay with me for a couple of days until she had made other living arrangements. As luck would have it I had a spare bedroom that I wasn’t using and so I told her that I would gladly put her up for a little while and to come right over.
Not long afterwards she arrived on my doorstep bags in hand. I helped her get her things put away and we spent the rest of the evening discussing her distressing situation. Many hours later we retired to our rooms and all seemed serene once again. It was not until the second evening that matters took something of a turn. I had just dozed off to sleep when I felt someone slip into bed next to me. Stephanie wrapped her arms around my waist, kissed me deeply and, need I say more, we became lovers!
As events turned out, she remained with me for about two weeks and, at the end of that time, she and her husband Jack reconciled. Nevertheless, she took the opportunity to blackmail him into booking an exotic trip for her and myself to pay me back for my kindness in putting her up. Jack was so overjoyed to be getting her back, he arranged a week’s stay for the two of us at the Mandarin Oriental in Bangkok, Thailand! I must say, we were both surprised and ecstatically happy to be sharing such a glorious adventure.
Bangkok was absolutely fabulous! We toured the sights, browsed exciting shops and markets and enjoyed the thrilling night life. On our third night in the city we went dancing at a very exciting nightclub. There we happened to meet two Danish couples, Henrik and Pia and Emil and Karin. The men were partners in an export business in Copenhagen and had taken their wives on an extended holiday. The four of them were in their early to mid 30s and were very attractive and sophisticated people. They became quite fascinated with us when Stephanie, responding to an innocent question of why we were there without male companions, let it slip casually that she and I were lovers. Being Danes, of course, our new friends were all quite open to this sort of sexual freedom and didn’t bat an eye when the topic of our same sex dalliance came up. Henrik told us that they had chartered a yacht for a week and wondered if we would enjoy a day out on the open water. It sounded terribly exciting of course, so we agreed right away.
The yacht was very large and luxurious, and the weather clear and balmy. The water on the Gulf was like a sheet of glass. We left the shelter of the city’s long river and were soon out on the sea. We enjoyed a lovely lunch consisting of local delicacies and then the six of us settled ourselves on the aft deck for an afternoon of relaxation and sun bathing. Karin told us that the Thai crew was quite discrete and if we found it more pleasant to discard our bathing suits she was sure no one would mind in the least. I quickly stole a glance at Stephanie and found that she was already slipping out of her bra. She thought it was a wonderful idea!
We lay about for a while sipping chilled white wine and chatting amiably when Pia remarked that she found my breasts quite lovely and ran her hand gently over them. Her touch was soft and sensual and she smiled at me sweetly as her fingers caressed my aroused nipples. Then she kissed me warmly on the mouth. Well, in hardly the time it takes to say it, Karin and Stephanie were lying on the deck in each other’s arms and Pia was softly brushing her nose and lips in the little nest of fur on my mound.
In the background we could hear the men excitedly egging us on. It was obvious that this was not the first time these ladies had made love to women, nor the first time they had done so in front of their husbands. It was not very long before the four of us were writhing and gasping and moaning in each other’s arms.
Pia and I lay in a sixty-nine position. She was, I must admit, extremely adept at arousing and exciting a woman. I could easily discern from Stephanie’s ragged gasps that she too was in the throes of sweet ecstacy. We changed partners and I fell into Karin’s oozing nest. It seemed to me that Karin was no less a virtuoso with her tongue and fingers and it became apparent why when Henrik laughed that the two ladies had practiced a great deal upon one another. At last Emil suggested that the four of us form ourselves into a circle, head to tail!
Now the two men took their turns with Stephanie and me. Henrik loomed over me, his shaft long and thick and rigid as a pike staff. He slowly pressed into my sex. I had never before felt myself so thoroughly stuffed. His long probing cock seemed to go deeper and deeper until I thought it must finally reach the back of my throat. Henrik was a powerful and enthusiastic cocksman. I was drilled as I’d never been before. My fluids coated his pubic area and spattered on his belly. I thought I would faint with excitement. Finally the two men decided to change partners and now Emil’s penis was inside me. He was not quite so large, but was a much more subtle lover. I found myself moaning and sighing as he expertly touched places inside me that set off thrills of excitement. All the while Karin and Pia kissed us and sucked on our breasts. I simply lost track of my orgasms. After what seemed hours, Emil withdrew his cock, stroked it two or three times and sent jets of hot semen across my belly and breasts!
The rest of the afternoon passed in a dreamy languor as we lay about the deck in a loose tangle of bodies, kissing, licking and stroking each other’s private parts. As the afternoon waned, the Danes asked Stephanie and I to let them watch us perform on each other, which we did with great avidity. We were by then so inflamed with lust and perversity that it did not take us long to bring each other to shuddering orgasms once again.
Upon our return, as we approached the harbor, we passed a beautiful seagoing vessel that had a lovely figurehead on its bow. You’ve probably seen figureheads before on pictures of old sailing ships. They were wooden carvings, usually of a woman, that were meant to protect the superstitious seamen from danger. Pia, who was laying between my legs with her head resting softly on my thigh, said that it was a great shame that modern vessels such as ours did not have such marvelous decorations. Emil said wouldn’t it be nice if there were a figurehead on the yacht, to which Pia excitedly replied “How about Victoria?â€
And that is how I ended up astride the bow sprit of the yacht. Urged on by my lovely shipmates I stood nude, legs apart, my bare breasts shimmering in the waning sunlight, the lovely sea breeze wafting through my hair. I needn’t tell you that we caused quite an unholy uproar amongst the good folks in the harbor. It seems that everyone there caught sight of me and was pointing excitedly in my direction. What a wondrous and electrifying feeling after such an exhilarating day to return to the port to the shouts and waves and the blaring of ships’ horns, all seemingly saluting the nude figurehead standing at the bow or our beautiful yacht!
Tags: lesbian, group, nude, yacht, bisexual
It is sometimes difficult for people to understand that the wealthy and socially prominent often live a very different sort of existence. We hear of it occasionally in the newspapers, on television or in the movies and we shake our heads at what we consider, from our standards, excess and depravity. Having been born into the kind of family that inhabits this exalted stratum of society I quite naturally hold an alternative viewpoint. Those engaging in these sorts of lusty behaviors do not look upon them in the same way at all. They assume that their position in life grants them license to act in any manner they wish. I was introduced into this outre world at a time when I was living and working in Europe. Permit me then to offer you a glimpse into the prodigality of this bizarre world.
I was twenty-four years of age, living for a number of months in London. Once of the fashion designers at the house where I modeled had taken a great interest in me. Knowing my adventurous nature and a little of my history, he had secured for me a coveted invitation to a tony soiree at the Mayfair home of one Lady Sommerville, the city’s social doyenne and its purveyor of all that was unusual and bizarre. He informed me that the elite of London society as well as a half-dozen other fashion models could expect to be in attendance, but that I had been personally brought to Lady Sommerville’s attention due to certain of my natural proclivities. He would not elaborate, but I needn’t tell you my interest was clearly piqued.
On the appointed evening I arrived at the Lady’s lavish townhouse dressed as elegantly as one could possibly be in a floor-length one-shoulder silver gown, sparkling silver pumps and a dramatic silver and diamond drop necklace. There were twenty-five or thirty guests, each more resplendently attired than the next, including a Conservative MP, a famous British movie producer, two leading European fashion designers, a lovely Italian coloratura, three titled members of the British peerage and six or eight fashion models, some of whom I already knew.
Dinner was an elegant and sumptuous affair and the wine flowed freely. The talk around the dinner table was fascinating, sprightly amusing. Although the models were spread evenly around the table, I found myself sitting opposite and utterly enchanting Eurasian beauty whose name was Sabina. She was very tall and exquisitely slender with radiant dark eyes and short, shimmering black hair. We chatted a little, mostly of work, and I was simply enthralled by the odd conjunction of her luminous Asian features and lovely French accent. After dinner, as the party moved to the drawing room for cocktails, I was taken aside by one of Lady Sommerville’s maids who asked me if I would be so kind as to follow her. We proceeded down a corridor to a bedroom. Her Ladyship, the maid explained, had expressed a desire that I take the lead in the evening’s entertainment. Naturally, I was thrilled to do so. It seemed, the maid went on, that one of the guests was well-known to be something of a masochist who intensely loved pain and it was Lady Sommerville’s wish that, for the amusement of her guests, I assume the role of dominatrix, a part she was obviously well aware I had played before, and apply a lashing. This person, I was assured, would derive the most exquisite sexual pleasure from it. At once I saw clearly the hand of the chap who had arranged my invitation. Nevertheless, I must admit I could barely contain my excitement.
The maid instructed me to remove my clothing and then stepped to an enormous armoire which contained a large assortment of leather, rubber and latex items: shoes, stockings and all the appurtenances the fashionable domina might require. She helped me to chose a pair of black stockings, a narrow latex waist cincher with chrome buckle which doubled as a garter belt, a black latex strapless bra and short, tight black gloves. Finally, she helped me into a pair of strappy black shoes with impossibly high heels! As I gazed at my image in the mirror, I appeared every inch the dominant vixen.
As the maid conducted me into the drawing room, I found myself mentally running down the guest list wondering who the “extreme masochist†might be. Could it be the film producer? Perhaps the member of Parliament? One of the titled gentlemen? As the door opened before me, I saw that the group was arranged in a circle around a wooden and steel frame about six feet high and four wide that had been moved into the center of the large, high-ceilinged room. As I approached, the circle parted before me like the Red Sea before Moses. I heard excited murmurs of approbation as the crowd caught sight of my barely clothed state.
Suddenly I was drawn up in total shock. There, before my eyes, stretched upon the rude wooden frame was none other than my glorious Eurasian! It was she who was to be the object of my cruel ministrations. She was totally nude except for high heels and even more astonishingly beautiful than I had at first imagined: a slender, supple back, a taut waist, extremely narrow hips, the tiniest little bottom and long, long willowy legs. Her lovely pale skin was flawless from head to toe. Lady Sommerville stood next to her holding a leather riding crop. “You look simply ravishing, darling,†she enthused, “Just like a blond goddess! I want you to make our lovely little Sabina suffer without causing her undue damage.†She handed me the crop. “This should do the trick nicely.â€
I walked purposefully round to the front of the beguiling creature. Upon her sublime face was a mixture of fear, anticipation and astonishing lust. Her arms were stretched outward and upward and fastened to the corners of the wooden frame, drawing her firm little breasts taut, the swollen, aroused nipples pointing obscenely upward. I teased the underside of the quivering nipples with the tip of my finger, eliciting a soft murmur from deep within her throat. Then I grasped her hair, drew back her head and kissed the warm, moist mouth, pressing my tongue deep between her lips. I whispered in her ear “Is it your wish that I do this?†to which she replied “Oh, oui...mais oui.†At this, Lady Sommerville reached round and placed a bit gag between Sabina’s teeth and fastened it behind her head.
I took my place behind my helpless victim as the small crowd widened the circle around me. I placed the head of the crop gingerly beneath her magnificent bottom and stroked its length back and forth along her sex. When I withdrew it I was thrilled to see that it was coated with her moisture. It was clearly obvious that she was intensely aroused.
My first few strokes with the crop were, I readily admit, rather tentative. I had whipped men before, but never a woman. Lady Sommerville urged me on. “Do not be afraid, my darling,†she said soothingly, “Sabina adores the pain!†I struck harder, leaving a red welt. I struck again. Each time the crop fell on her soft flesh, I heard Sabina’s breath whistle around the bit she clenched tightly in her teeth. I applied strokes to her lower back and slashed her beautiful thighs. I loved watching the way the tender flesh of her ass quivered beneath the crop. Soon she was bright red from her waist to almost her knees, yet the audience exhorted me on.
I needn’t tell you I got terribly caught up in the excitement as the circle of guests pressed around us. Some gasped, some sighed, some stood silent, fascinated, but no one turned away. There grew a collective groan with each blow. I felt my own sexual excitement rise dramatically as though nearing climax. My head began to swim. I felt hypnotized. There was nothing but the sound of the crop whistling through the air and Sabina’s sharp intake of breath. Finally, Sabina’s hips began to roll suggestively and I could not altogether rid myself of the thought that she were coming to an orgasm. Suddenly her body went limp.
No sooner had the contractions of Sabina’s orgasm subsided than two of the men were releasing her from her bonds. She was placed face up on the floor at my feet. It was obvious that she was still in the throes of her excitement because her body writhed convulsively as she lay. “Darling,†Lady Sommerville said, “she is yours. You may do with her as you wish.†Sabina raised her arms towards me, imploring me onward. I placed a foot on each side of her head and slowly lowered my oozing sex onto her mouth. Oh, what glorious sensations coursed through my body as the intoxicating beauty satiated my raging lust with her lips and teeth and tongue. As she did so I teased and tormented her swollen nipples and throbbing sex and occasionally motivating her with strike from my crop. When I rose I left her beatific face coated with my drippings.
There now ensued a general melee. Gowns were doffed and trousers fell to the floor. Everywhere one looked unclad and semi-clad figures assumed erotic positions. One of the titled gentlemen, a baronet if I recall rightly, took me by both hands and drew me to a chair over by the wall. Settling me in the chair, he fell to his knees before me, his hands clasped as if in prayer, abjectly imploring me to use my whip upon him. I ordered him to lower his trousers and to kneel facing away from me with his bare bottom raised. I reached down between his legs, grasped his rampant phallus to use as a handle and slashed enthusiastically at his rump. I had never whipped a woman before this night, but I had no compunction whatever about doing so to a man. Soon his pitiable shrieks filled the room. I continued to strike him until I grew bored, then placed my foot on his scarlet ass and thrust him violently away.
Now, driven to an excess of desire, I threw myself with avidity into the mass of recumbent bodies. Penises, tongues and fingers were everywhere. As I took one engorged phallus in my mouth there would be another pressed into my sex or anus. I did not know, nor much cared, who they belonged to so long as they satisfied my craving. One of the penises thrust into me felt a little strange and when I turned to see discovered Lady Somerville’s lovely little maid taking me with a strap on dildo! In this wise the debauchery went on well into the early hours of the morning. How many orgasms I enjoyed or how many I inspired it is impossible to say.
The next day, when I finally awoke, I found myself lying in bed between two naked men. My waist cincher was gone, the bra hung near my hips and my stockings were in shreds by my knees. I struggled up from the tangle of bodies, found a trench coat to cover myself and wandered about the apartment stepping over prone bodies lying in grotesque positions. I searched carefully for the lovely Sabina. How I longed to kiss her one last time. But, alas, she had departed and I was never to see her again.
During the summer of my nineteenth year, I had the great good fortune to become involved romantically with a older woman by the name of Charlotte. She was thirty-six at the time, an extremely sophisticated, intelligent and utterly beautiful woman who was also independently wealthy and socially prominent. Charlotte had many interests, particularly the arts, which was how we came to meet, but she had one overarching obsession: eroticism in all its myriad permutations. I can say without hesitation that I have never known anyone, man or woman, who possessed her intimate knowledge of the subject. What she knew about the art of making love would fill a library. Given my own sexual predilection, it needn’t be said that during the months I spent with her, I received an advanced education in the giving and receiving of sexual pleasure.
Charlotte owned an enchanting apartment in the picturesque little cobble stone alley in Greenwich Village known as Washington Mews. I lived with her there for three months while my parents were away in Europe, surrounded by the charming ambiance and artistic atmosphere of the mews, sharing the excitement and adventure of Charlotte’s unconventional everyday life.
We enjoyed sex in every way imaginable: between ourselves, with other men and women, in any way that suited our fancy. Nothing was taboo. We played an infinite number of games, enjoyed sweet, intimate sex, violent fetish sex, dominant/submissive scenes and every other sort of play that we could possibly dream up or fantasize about. She was extremely independent and cared not a whit what others might think and so it was not uncommon for us to walk hand-in-hand on the street or to display our intimacy in public. In everything, she taught me to be adventurous and bold and not to pay any attention to the opinions of the bland souls around me. One evening she decided to invite over a friend of hers named Meg for dinner. Meg was a very lovely woman of about forty who worked as a pianist/singer in one of the trendy Soho night clubs. She was bisexual, lived with a man, but always seemed to have time for a dalliance whenever Charlotte called and she loved to visit without her significant other who, I suppose, was well aware of where Meg was and what she was up to. That evening, before Meg arrived, as I was stepping out of the shower, Charlotte came into the bedroom and suggested I wear a particular dress for the occasion. The one that she selected she had recently purchased for me. It was short and silvery with spaghetti straps and a loose bodice that was more than a little revealing. She also asked me not to wear a bra. For those of you who have seen my photos, my breast though not enormous is substantial and the amount of cleavage left exposed was more than a little shocking to say the very least. In fact I felt half naked as I drew up the straps and looked at myself in the mirror. Nevertheless it pleased Charlotte and I was only too happy to oblige. Besides, when she made a direct request like that, invariably there was an excellent reason.
The evening was extremely pleasant. Charlotte’s housekeeper had made a delightful dinner which she served by candlelight. The food was marvelous, the wine superb, the background music enchanting and the conversation lively and fun. As we chatted Charlotte made many pointed references to me, asking Meg if she liked my outfit, if she thought I was attractive. I became, I must admit, a little self-conscious as I sensed these charming women staring at the valley between my half-exposed breasts. After dinner we adjourned to the living room for coffee. When the housekeeper had placed the coffee things on the table, Charlotte told her that she could leave. The housekeeper, who knew Charlotte well, gave her a knowing smile and nodded good night. The conversation picked up where we had left it, but once again came around very pointedly to me. Charlotte wanted to know if Meg found me beautiful, sexually exciting. Meg blushed deeply and with eyes cast downward whispered “Oh, yes.†“Vicky, darling,†Charlotte said to me coolly, “would you be so kind as to kneel in front of Meg?†Knowing her eccentricities and the pleasures they usually afforded me, I didn’t hesitate a second. I rose, walked to the couch and knelt on the carpet in front of our lovely guest. I was shivering with excitement and was quite fascinated to see that Meg’s knees, only inches away, were shaking as well despite all her efforts to control them. Charlotte rose from her chair. I heard her heels on the floor as she walked across the room. A drawer opened and closed. She came up behind me, drew my arms behind my back and cuffed my wrists with a pair of leather cuffs we had used once or twice before in our own play. Then she placed a leather collar around my neck, attached a leash to it and handed the strap to Meg. “She is yours, darling,†she said to Meg, “You may enjoy her as you wish.†I thought Meg was about to faint and try as she might she could not entirely recover her composure. She drew the leash towards her and kissed me with a deep and desperate lust. Her tongue circled my lips before plunging into my mouth and I could feel the heat rising in her. We kissed until I had grown terribly excited and Meg seemed on the verge of heart failure. Finally, unable to contain herself, she rose, drew down her panties which were soaked through and knelt on the sofa with her moist little nest just before my eyes. She pulled me into her and my face splashed into her sodden sex. With my hands useless I had only my mouth with which to pleasure Meg and so I went about it with an abandon that was quite breathless. I found myself employing all the little tricks of oral lovemaking that Charlotte had so painstakingly taught me. I tickled and teased her clitoris, nibbled, sucked and licked her. I plunged my tongue again and again into the warm, sweet opening of her sex. As is the case with me, I invariably lose track of time when I am in the throes of excitement such as this. I could feel Meg shudder and wriggle and all the while she sighed and mewled and moaned. Her first orgasm was intense and with her second I was certain she was on the verge of passing out. I drew my head back for a few gasps of breath and her spendings coated my face and dripped off my chin. But Meg was not finished with me yet. She tugged once again on the leash and I went back to the task of bringing her to another soft little orgasm. Meg collapsed like a rag doll on the sofa, totally spent. But I was not finished as yet. I heard the soft voice of Charlotte calling me and saw that she had spread her legs and pulled up her skirt to expose her glorious pink folds. She motioned me to come to her. My neck was stiff and my jaw was getting sore but I wanted Charlotte’s sweet little opening too desperately to care. She was terribly aroused by what she had witnessed and her inner thighs were already coated with moisture. It did not take me very long at all to bring my lover to a quivering climax. When I had finished my tongue and mouth, face and breasts were coated in the mingled honey of these two exciting women. By this time Meg had recovered somewhat. Now both women took me in their arms, kissing and caressing me and whispering their love in my ear. They made it clear that I had more than fulfilled their desires and that for the rest of the night I should be at the center of the lovemaking. They took me to Charlotte’s bed where I lay until morning between these two delightful women who with tongues and fingers and toys brought me to one beautiful orgasm after another.
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