Janie's thong had been damp the whole time. It wasn't lost on me, kneeling beside her as we ate from pet bowls on the floor. I remembered that Marti forbade her from wearing clothes at home, much like Gwendolyn's rule for me.

Except panties. They were a practical necessity. “I leak,” she had explained. “My pussy is always wet when I’m with my mistress. She doesn’t want me to ruin her furniture.”

We two pets could only listen as we chewed our scraps and took turns drinking from Janie's piss bowl, the dinner conversation being the province of our mistresses, the two women who sat at table like fully agentic human beings.

My ears pricked up when Marti mentioned strap-ons. I had been surreptitiously admiring Janie's mature breasts. I loved the way they hung soft and full when she put her face into the bowl. And now, when she heard that word, I could see her saturated gusset overflow, leaking her slickness onto her inner thighs.

My thoughts turned to licking her there until Marti announced, "Ever since I spanked your boy there, I’ve been hankering to plunder that pretty ass of his.”

I had learned to enjoy being dominated by Gwendolyn. And Marti had already spanked me once. But I had never considered submitting to anal penetration. I heard Marti say that lots of men enjoy it, presenting this fact as first-hand knowledge. That didn't assuage my fear much, but Gwendolyn wanted to see me fucked, so I had no choice.

Having no choice is, paradoxically, quite liberating. There's no point in worrying about what you know you're going to have to do no matter what. You learn to develop your subspace, the place in your mind where you retreat, where everything degrading arouses you and only makes you more compliant.

Dinner ended, and I hardly noticed that I was consigned to help Janie clear the table and do the washing up. Marti left the room, taking Gwendolyn with her, presumably to show her the playroom.

I followed Janie into the kitchen, carrying the serving vessels from the table and put them on the counter. Janie began loading the dishwasher while I watched, rapt by her fluid grace and the beauty of her sensual frame.

She looked over her shoulder at me and whispered, "Don't worry, it only hurts a little at first. And then it gets amazing. She's very good, you know. An expert with the strap-on. I wish it was me getting it."

"Does she fuck you in the ass?" I wanted to know. That had to be different from taking it in her pussy.

"My mistress fucks all my holes, my pussy, my mouth, and my ass," she said proudly, with a look of excitement that assuaged my fears substantially.

"Do you actually like it there? In your ass, I mean." We were speaking barely above a whisper. We could hear the voices of our mistresses, unintelligible, from down the hall. I didn't know if we were allowed to talk or not, but Janie seemed to be taking precautions.

"That's what I'm talking about. I wish it was me."

I looked at her ass. It was pale and unblemished, each rounded cheek forming a half of an upside-down heart that peaked in the dip of her spine at her narrow waist. It was softer and fuller than Gwendolyn's but just as breathtaking.

"Do you think it's pretty?" She said, bending forward to adjust the dishes on the lower rack that were just fine the way they were. Her stance was classic, almost pornographic, presenting herself perfectly for rear entry. Her pussy peeked at me through the gap in her thighs beneath the parted globes of her ass. Its folds were clearly discernible in the thin, sodden fabric of her thong, which disappeared into her shadowed cleft that led upward and inward, promising other delights to be explored.

I was so surprised! Not by the beauty so much as by the implied invitation, so wantonly presented. Her pose was so primal, so fitting with the pet status we had assumed. I wanted to mount her and breed her like a dog with a bitch.

But first I wanted to smell her, to open her up and taste her hidden treasures. I wondered if she tasted like Gwendolyn, whose puckered anus I had been worshiping daily.

"Can I taste you?" I whispered hoarsely.

"Yes, hurry! I don't want to get caught!" she answered quickly.

I was on my knees behind her instantly. She pulled her thong out from between her cheeks and spread them apart with both hands. But the scent of her juices below pulled me off course. Her gusset was overflowing again, giving her inner thighs a new coat of slick on top of layers that had already dried in concentrated flavor.

My tongue went there first. I lapped hungrily at the top of both thighs up to the edge of her gusset, the salt and tang making my mouth water as my nose pressed into her sodden gusset and filled my senses with her heady musk.

"No, you silly boy!" she admonished in sotto voce remonstrance. "Not there! Put your tongue in my asshole!" Apparently this submissive milf was capable of summoning some authority, at least where I was concerned.

Obediently, but not without a little selfish opportunism, I dragged my broad tongue up the entire length of her gusset on the way to her rectal cleft, denuded and spread welcomely. I washed the juices from her pussy and my watering mouth into her earthy crack and up over the circular bump of her shithole.

My nose had preceded my mouth, exciting me with her anal aroma and preparing me to delve eagerly into her puckered hole. But just as I began to drill, we were interrupted.

"Stop that!" It was Marti's voice.

"Come here, Mike!" came Gwendolyn's command.

I scurried on my knees to my mistress's feet. She had a collar and leash in her hands, which she bent to buckle on my neck.

"You see what a slut she is?" Marti said to Gwendolyn. "Just as I said. This is why she has to be under strict supervision all the time."

Gwendolyn squatted beside me and, holding the leash in one hand and my chin in the other, she brought her face close to mine.

"What were you thinking? Your face smells like pussy! And not mine! Did you think that was appropriate behavior?" Her beautiful eyes searched mine. "Do I have to punish you?"

Marti had clipped a leash to Janie's collar and tugged it to turn her around and down on all fours. She swung the end of the leash, striking Janie's broad, pale ass with a stinging smack.

"To the playroom!" she commanded sternly. "Now!"

Janie crawled surprisingly fast, and Gwendolyn led me by the leash to follow them down the hall to a room at the back corner of the house. The size of a moderately large bedroom, it was sparsely and oddly furnished. Except for the cupboard in a corner, there was nothing at all bedroomy.

Marti was securing Janie in a pillory, bent at the waist. Gwendolyn and I watched as she closed the hinged board over Janie's neck and wrists and then cuffed her ankles to a spreader bar. I was fascinated. Janie was flushed, clearly excited - I could see it in her eyes until Marti slipped a blindfold on her - but completely compliant. Then she put a pair of acoustic earmuffs on her head. I thought they were headphones.

"There," said Marti. "Now she can't hear us or see us. She's going to get a serious paddling, but she's going to have to wait for it, and she won't know how long."

She gave one of Janie's hanging tits a sharp smack, leaving a red handprint on her milky skin.

"Ohhh," Janie moaned. I saw a bead of dew roll down her thigh.

"We shouldn't have to listen to noise from the slut, should we?" Marti said, bringing a ball gag from the cupboard and securing it in place. She also had a couple of clothespins, which she clipped to Janie's long nipples.

That only made Janie wetter. She seemed to quiver as her gusset dripped.

Gwendolyn was watching as intently as I. "She really likes getting punished!" she observed.

Marti laughed. "This isn't punishment," she said. "I'm just giving my baby exactly what she wants. I knew she was going to 'misbehave' and she knew I would catch her."

"So this is all just a game?" asked Gwendolyn.

"What you see here, yes, it's all fun and games. For me too. We both get off on it. I won't tell you how wet I get when I slap her tits like that. I can't wait to redden that pretty ass of hers!

"No, if I really had to punish her, if she had really displeased me, she'd be locked in her cage in the basement in the dark with only a water bottle attached to the bars. Sometimes with her hands cuffed. For hours. Up to ten or twelve hours or more. I usually leave her there until she soils her cage. And then I leave her to wallow in it because she's so prissy and hates to be dirty. It's very hard on both of us, but the make up sex is awesome."

"Wow," Gwendolyn exhaled softly. "You really do love each other, don't you?"

That surprised me a little, because my first thought had been how intense the feeling of helpless submission must be for Janie, but Gwendolyn's reaction came as a revelation.

"So, my boy has been naughty too," Gwendolyn said eagerly. "How would you punish him if he were yours?"

"Oh, I have some very devious cruelties in mind. If you'll allow me, I'd like to borrow him for the evening and show you. Would that be okay?"

"Yes, I'd like that!" Gwendolyn enthused. And then she added earnestly, "As long as you stop whatever you're doing if I don't like it."

"Yes, of course."

"Because, he's mine!"

I saw a look of admiration on Marti's face as she nodded approvingly. "May I take his leash?"

She walked me over to a large wooden frame in the shape of an "X" and fastened my wrists and ankles to the cuffs at the four extremities of the frame so that my legs were splayed and my arms spread wide. I felt extremely vulnerable. My cock was semi-erect and horizontal.

After checking that I was fully secured, she went to the cupboard to get some things.

"Now," she said, "we're going to correct your very bad behavior, little boy."

Her tone and demeanor made my cock rise higher.

She held up a plastic clip. She was also wielding a riding crop.

"You've been sticking your nose into places it doesn't belong, haven't you?" She paused expectantly.

"Yes, ma'am," I answered.

She struck my cock with the riding crop.

"Ow!" I cried out in surprise.

"Silence!" she shouted. The crop hit my cheek. "You will only speak to answer me. You will address me as 'Miss.'"

"Yes, Miss," I replied meekly, while inside, I trembled excitedly.

"Answer me. Where have you been sticking your nose?"

"In Janie's ass, Miss." It sounded absolutely ridiculous, but it made me dizzy with lust. I wanted to fall at Marti's feet and bury my face in her pussy.

"Why would you do a nasty thing like that? Are you a nasty little slut?"

"Yes, Miss."

"Say it."

"I'm a nasty little slut, Miss."

"This is to remind you to keep your nose where it belongs."

She put the clip on my nose. I had to breathe through my mouth.

"And your tongue? Where has it been?"

"In Janie's ass, Miss."

"Are you an asslicker, little boy?"

"Yes, Miss."

"And what right do you have to lick Janie's ass? Does she belong to you?"

"No, Miss."

She picked up a wooden clamp. "Stick out your tongue, boy."

She attached the clamp to my tongue, making it impossible to close my mouth or to bring my tongue back inside.

"There. That will keep you from putting it where it doesn't belong."

She put down the crop and slipped out of her dress and shoes. I ogled the bulging flesh spilling from her sheer bra and the dark shadowy mass in her matching panties that failed to contain all of her wild curls.

Then, she blindfolded me.

I felt completely helpless, but my cock was rigid with lust. And with my tongue extended, I was beginning to drool. I could feel it dripping down my chin and onto my chest.

CRACK! I felt a sharp stinging blow to the head of my cock!

"Mmthugh," I moaned. Now I knew how a riding crop feels.

SMACK! This time it was my naked balls that received the blow.

"You see how vulnerable he is?" Marti said. "I can do anything I want to him."

I felt her body come close to mine. "This is what you get for being a greedy slut!" she hissed in my ear.

CRACK! She had moved away to strike me again. This time it was a spot on my shaft that burned and tingled.

Then she was back, pressing her soft curves against me and grasping my balls in her hand. She squeezed and pulled down on them, crushing and stretching them painfully.

I groaned. My knees buckled, putting all my weight onto my outstretched arms.

"And this is to show you who's boss!"

She released me and struck my cock again - CRACK! - on the side of the shaft. And then again on the other side.

"You've done a nice job with him," she said to Gwendolyn. "Did you see how he responded to the crop?" She continued whipping my cock and balls at random intervals.

"His cock got harder!' Gwendolyn sounded surprised. "Does that mean he likes pain?"

"No. I seriously doubt it," Marti said, giving my balls another THWACK! "I mean some people do. No, it's your training. You've conditioned him to enjoy submitting and pleasing you. The pain is connected to that - being controlled - it's very arousing to the submissive mind."

She continued to strike me in places and times I couldn't anticipate. That, and hearing the two dominant women discussing me as if I were an object for their amusement, kept me extremely aroused.

"Subbies like him and my Janie will actually thank you for hurting them. It makes them even more eager to please."

I heard Marti walk over to the cupboard again. When she came back, she removed my blindfold and the two clips. My tongue felt strangely uncomfortable in my mouth at first.

"Look at you. So hard and horny," she said to me. She pushed down on my cock with her index finger and let it snap back, slapping my belly.

"We can't leave you in this state now, can we?" she asked rhetorically.

She poured some lube into her right palm and spread it all over my cock. It felt incredible. Then she started stroking the length of my shaft and up over the head with a twisting motion that immediately had me on the edge of coming. She stopped and pinched me at the root, right above my balls, nipping my budding orgasm before resuming her stroking.

She did this three times. The third time, as she pinched it, she asked me, "Do you want to cum for me?"

"Yes, Miss," I gasped desperately.

"If I let you cum, you have to do everything I say, understood?"

"Yes, Miss." I would have done anything she wanted anyway.

"Are you ready to cum for me?"

"Yes, Miss."

She released my cock. She didn't stroke it this time. She just removed her hand with the words, "Cum for me, slut. Now!"

I watched as my cock jerked and shot an arc of cum high in the air. And again. And again, four more times. Each shot seemed to come from deep in my gut. Each spurt made my whole body tremble.

"Good boy. Obedient boy. What do you say?" she asked as I hung in my bonds, gasping.

"Thank you, Miss?" I said, dazed.

"Good boy."

She produced a washcloth, ice cold and wet, and used it to thoroughly wash my cock and balls, shrinking my cock down to a shriveled lump.

"Now that that's taken care of, we can put it away," she explained.

She slipped a metal contraption over my balls and compressed my soft cockflesh into an impossibly tiny space behind a flat disk that sat above my captive balls. It looked like my cock had disappeared, like it no longer existed. I nevertheless became aroused by the level of control Marti had over me. It felt like a burning knot in my groin.

"See? No more pesky penis to get in the way," Marti said magnanimously. Her big, soft boobs pressed against me as she reached up to release my wrists. Then she stooped to undo my ankle cuffs.

"Maybe now you'll be able to stay out of trouble. Have you learned your lesson, little boy?"

"Yes, Miss," I replied. Every time she called me "little boy," it made me more aware of her superiority and authority. Her age, her experience, and her take-charge demeanor had me in awe of her and of her buxom femininity.

"Good boy," she said. She sat on the side of a padded bench. "Come here. Let's have a look at you."

I stood before her timidly. She fluffed the light hair on my chest and traced her fingers over my nipples. They stiffened, and I felt that knot in my groin.

She lifted my balls, which were very prominent with no cock to hide behind. She caressed them gently.

"See how pretty and pink they are?" she said.

Their color was darker than what I would have called pink, but I was too enthralled to care. "Pink" was more emasculating. I felt like putty in her hands.

"Yes, you're very pretty," she said, placing hands on my hips. "Turn around, now," she said softy, turning me firmly.

"You're a pretty pussy boy, aren't you?" She ran a hand over my bottom. "Don't you want to be my pretty pussy boy?"

Pussy boy? The first time she said it, faint alarm bells echoed in a distant analytical quarter of my brain, but were easily dispelled by her last question.

"Yes, Miss," I answered breathlessly, as she gently fondled my ass cheeks with both of her capable, experienced hands.

"Yes?" she repeated. "What do you want?"

"To be your pretty pussy boy." I was lost in her labyrinthine web.

"Ask me properly." She sounded like a kind schoolmistress.

"Can I be your pretty pussy boy, Miss?" I simpered.

She was kneading my cheeks firmly now and a finger strayed between them and brushed across my tiny hole. I shivered.

"Do you want me to fuck your pretty boy pussy?" she asked in the same gentle tone.

Obviously, I had been anticipating this all along, since dinner, but there was something mind-altering about this moment. Rather than an inevitable event of abject surrender that I half feared, it was a gift she offered me, an opportunity to display my submission, to surrender my body and the last vestiges of my masculinity for her pleasure.

"Yes, please, Miss," I replied, bending forward slightly, hoping she would touch my virgin hole again and possess it. "Please fuck my pretty boy pussy!"

"Such a good boy!" she exclaimed, turning me back around and pulling me to my knees.

She took my chin in her hand and leaned in and kissed me on the lips. It was a gentle kiss for a second and a half before she bore down and took my mouth possessively.

"You kiss well. Take off my underpants and kiss me there," were her orders.

She lifted her big soft ass as I pulled the waistband and cooperated so that the sheer panties were quickly free of her feet.

"Smell them," she instructed.

They were delicious. I couldn't wait to taste the source of her aroma.

She spread her thick, dimpled thighs, revealing a tangled nest of grey-brown curls with her vertical crimson lips smiling from their midst. I could have just admired the view and simply breathed the scented air already wafting into my flaring nostrils, but I didn't hesitate. I couldn't.

My lips were on hers in a flash, in a kiss of intense passion. I wanted to devour her. I licked and sucked and coaxed and teased every ounce of nectar I could from her dewy petals and the depths of her flower.

She was evidently pleased with my ministrations, but she stopped me and had me take her place on the bench. I watched the broad expanse of her naked ass shifting and dipping side to side as she walked back to the cupboard.

She showed the items she retrieved to Gwendolyn.

"This is my favorite set," she explained. "The harness goes on like this, and you adjust this part to fit in your pussy. Then you attach the dildo here. I have four different sizes and shapes. I'm using the smallest one on your boyfriend."

"That's the smallest?" Gwendolyn said, surprised.

"Don't worry," Marti laughed. "He'll love it!"

I certainly hoped so. Her confidence was reassuring, but, once again, I reminded myself that my feelings had no bearing; she was going to do whatever she wished with me and I would accept it.

As she walked toward me, her obscene pink phallus was a fearful sight. I looked up and fastened my eyes on her massive breasts, well supported by her bra, despite the sheer translucency that displayed her dark areolas. I wondered how low her tits would hang if set free.

She stopped and stood before me, legs slightly spread. "Kiss my cock, pussy boy," she said, placing her hand on the back of my head and guiding it to the realistic-looking tool.

I put my lips to the tip of Marci's fake cock. Despite the unappealing hard plastic sensation, I had an immediate desire to suck. My position, head bowed and restrained by Marci's hand, plus the provocative scent of her wetness, so close, triggered all the servile passions that Gwendolyn had honed in me.

"Good boy," said Marci, pulling away before I could lower myself to becoming her cocksucker.

"Now lie back." She helped me pivot so that I was aligned lengthwise on the padded surface with a pillow behind my head. I let her position my legs, bending and spreading my knees. She lifted my knees toward my chest and placed my hands behind them to hold them there, effectively rolling my hips.

"There we go!" she said encouragingly. "Show me your pussy."

She poured some lube on my exposed knothole, a jolt of cold that rapidly dissipated as she rubbed it in, jangling lots of little nerve endings. She stretched my tightness with a finger, forcing my sphincter to relax and making me want more.

I closed my eyes and surrendered to the exquisite sensation of two, and then three fingers sawing through my widening, tingling boycunt. If her goal was to make me accept the idea of being her pussy boy, she had already succeeded. On my back, legs spread, my feet up in the air, I was ready, willing, and able to be fucked like a girl.

Her fingers left me open and wanting. I opened my eyes to see her remove her bra. Her massive boobs swung low as she climbed between my elevated legs. Her long, stiff nipples dragged up my chest as she positioned herself. Her soft tit flesh smothered my face.

I grabbed a nipple with my lips and pulled it into my mouth. Thick and rubbery, it was satisfying to suck, gratifying to nurse on, and distracting from the attack at my other end. I gasped around a mouthful of boob when I felt her thrust into my primed and ready pucker. It wasn't pain. Close, though. It was intense.

The rough surface of her plunging shaft wrought havoc on the myriad sensors around my tight portal. Alarms sounded, flares fired, a hue and cry clamored from all its defenses, which immediately collapsed, defeated, and welcomed the invading force.

With almost no resistance beyond the initial breach, the phallus filled me up. It felt amazing. And, reversing, it left me wanting, despite the erotic pull on my clinging ring.

Suddenly, we were fucking. Both of us. I'm not ashamed to admit my complicity. I rocked my pelvis to meet her thrusts and sucked avidly at her nipple, making her grunt in pleasure. I started biting down on her nipple as she accelerated, chewing it gently while lashing it with my tongue.

There was pressure and heat building behind my balls. I wondered if I could reach orgasm this way. My rectum was feeling better and better as we fucked, but what I wanted was to make Marti come. I rocked harder, matching her in force and rhythm, and soon I had my wish.

With a fierce moan, she slammed into me and collapsed, her legs quivering and her ass spasming, causing little jerks of her tool deep in my bowels.

And I thought of Gwendolyn. I knew she was watching. Had she enjoyed it? I had.

I had pleased Marti, that was evident. But had I pleased Gwendolyn? Suddenly that was all that mattered.

to be continued