Part 6: Oh, What a Night.

The drive to Marguerite’s was short. She lived in a brownstone in an upscale neighborhood less than a mile from the shopping district where her store was located. She had given us the address, and told us to give our keys to the doorman who would park our car. We did so, climbed into an old-fashioned elevator, and soon were outside her door.

A tuxedo-clad male servant opened the door to our ring, and we walked into a spare, modern apartment that seemed to be all shades of gray and black and straight lines and angles. The one discordant note in all this was that the servant was wearing a black mask. Not a tiny little eye-shield mask like you might see at a costume party, but a hood, like a super-hero might wear, even down to bubble-like goggles concealing the eyes.

Jack and I both stared at the apparition. Marguerite suddenly appeared, still in the dress she had worn at her shop.

“Oh don’t mind Edgar,” she assured us, “He’s just like a piece of furniture, and you should treat him as one. As if he weren’t there.”

What an odd and hurtful thing to say! Neither Jack nor I had any familiarity with servants or household staff (I was the household staff at my house, when I was home) but we certainly hadn’t been raised to treat people like objects!

“I see your shocked looks. I’m sorry, I should explain further. He’s a client. You wanted to know more about the lifestyle you are embarking on? We should be able to have some good discussions then.

“You see, what Jack does to you for love – and pleasure, of course – I do for money, and pleasure of course.” She smiled. “I’m a professional Domme. Edgar, here, is a regular of mine. His name is not really Edgar, and the mask is partly to protect his identity and his reputation. He’s a successful businessman with a doting wife and two lovely daughters. But,” her smile turned downward a little, “something’s missing in his life.

“He regularly spends an evening with me, suffering some humiliation and punishment. Something he needs to feel complete in his life.

“And tonight, he will be our servant. He can hear you perfectly, but he cannot speak. So now,” she continued, “he will offer you wine. I will, as the saying goes, ‘slip into something more comfortable,’ and then we will have dinner.” With that, she waved us towards large black leather seats in the parlor area and disappeared into another door.

Edgar did indeed offer wine. Both Jack and I chose red and sat down in individual leather chairs and tried to take everything in. Edgar retreated to a corner of the room and stood completely still, as if he were, indeed, a piece of furniture.

We both looked around the room at the hard angles and straight lines and contrasted them with the brightly colored Impressionist paintings on the walls.

Before long, Marguerite returned. She was wearing something that might have been called a dressing gown, if dressing gowns were made of body-hugging black silk. The gown was closed only at her waist by a tied belt. The belt closure left a generous portion of her upper torso uncovered, revealing a black bustier underneath. Her long legs and dancer’s body were very much on display, as her legs split the front of the gown with each step – showing she was also wearing black stockings with garters, and apparently nothing else.

“Comfortable” to Marguerite apparently meant eye-popping, right down to the black stiletto heels on her feet.

I noticed that, well, Jack noticed. How could he not? The outfit was clearly designed to draw attention to the woman inside, who was already pretty striking in her work clothes. I felt a little overshadowed. I knew I shouldn’t feel jealous. Jack is in charge! I’m his most precious possession (as DeeDee had told me in the Student Union the night of our fight), but still! Jack’s tongue was practically hanging out!

But Marguerite’s first words were to me, not Jack. “Vanessa, please go into my room and you will find something comfortable to wear also. It’s laid out on the bed for you. Go, now, go.” She waved her hand dismissively, as one might with a child.

I stomped off into the room (as a child might do) repressing my fury. I stopped cold at the foot of the bed – laid out was an outfit practically identical to Marguerite’s own, but in white. White silk gown, white bustier, white stockings and white sky-high heels. I smiled. Two could pop some eyes, I guess.

Blonde Vanessa, all in white, and raven-haired Marguerite, all in black – this could be interesting!

I emerged from the room a few minutes later. In addition to the revealing white outfit Marguerite had laid out for me, she had set out a range of makeup items on the bed. I had rummaged a little bit and found a frosty white lipstick and silvery eye-shadow.

Jack looked from one of us to the other with wide eyes, as if he had been punched in the gut. He was absolutely speechless.

Marguerite smiled broadly at me when I appeared. “Ah, Vanessa, our beautiful snow queen, has joined us! Let’s have dinner now, before she melts.” She led the way to the dining area.

During the excellent dinner, served by the wordless Edgar, Marguerite initially steered the conversation to lighter subjects. She asked about our schooling, plans for work and career, where we might live, and so on. Edgar poured more wine to accompany the meal.

Once the meal had been cleared away, she began to address us in more serious tones.

“Now, I know you came here hoping to have a little frank talk. I’ve given you some idea of my experience. If you think you are comfortable discussing it, let’s talk about where you two are, how you got there and where you are going.”

Jack began to tell our story from his perspective. He told Marguerite frankly about the fantasy role-playing and how it became apparent to him that I craved the submissive role.

He also told her how he had first met DeeDee and Rick and how he became aware of their relationship (none of which I had yet heard).

He described in some detail how he and DeeDee hatched the “scene” where I was “kidnapped and assaulted,” first by Rick, and then by Jack, with DeeDee’s assistance and guidance.

This was really enlightening! I had been blindfolded and gagged through most of it, and had no idea of DeeDee’s level of participation in the planning, much less in the scene itself, except for the pussy shaving of course. DeeDee herself had told me about that.

As Jack described it, DeeDee’s presence had been mostly to ensure my safety, and to moderate Rick from going too far. When I remembered back, I couldn’t quite imagine how he could have gone much farther, without causing permanent injury. I guess that was why she was there.

Marguerite interrupted briefly to ask a question. “So the 'scene' was really non-consensual, yes? But you had DeeDee there in a 'safety' role. And the marks I saw during your first visit were from Rick, correct?”

He confirmed the truth of that statement, and then (reluctantly, I thought) told her how he had lied to me about Rick’s involvement, and how I had learned the truth, and our resulting (very public) fight and reconciliation.

He also backtracked for a moment and told her about the public sex in the park and the “audience” there.

He then told Marguerite how, after our reconciliation, I had demanded (his words) that he punish me, and had goaded him into whipping me with the belt.

Marguerite asked for a more detailed description, what I had said, how he had tied me, and so forth. She laughed about the encounter with the floor dick, Andy, and the other students.

“Let me see if I can capture the essence of this story – and please, both of you, don’t hesitate to correct me if I get it wrong – it’s your story, not mine.

“You, Jack, determined from fantasy play that Jeannie, Vanessa, here, really wanted to be a sub. You subjected her to a violent non-consensual attack – that she clearly enjoyed – and then lied to her about the participants, particularly about the person who was her principle assailant.”

Jack nodded wordlessly.

“Then, after dressing her in the garter belt and stockings, and some carefree sex in the park, she came to visit you at school and found out about Rick, and DeeDee, and their participation. You fought, and then reconciled. I have to wonder…how did reconciliation really happen? You crossed a pretty big line with her.”

Jack turned his gaze on me. “I think DeeDee intervened. I’m not sure what she said, but whatever it was, it made the difference.”

Marguerite focused on me. “Vanessa, I’d like to hear your input, please.”

I jumped a little. I had been listening passively, fascinated with Jack’s retelling of our story.

“DeeDee convinced me that Jack had used Rick to hurt me – to break me and convince me that I was submissive – because Jack loved me too much to do what needed to be done. She said he would never really enjoy hurting me. She said I was his most precious possession, but that he had given me away to prove to me what I really was.”

Marguerite turned her full attention back to Jack for a moment. “Did you hear that? I would say ‘from the mouths of babes’ except in this case, it’s ‘from the mouths of subs.’

“You took a big chance, with that scene, and almost destroyed all you had gained with the lie. But the other sub – DeeDee? – was able to salvage it for you. You both owe her a debt. I want to meet this girl.”

“One other thing. Who initiated the sex in the dressing room today. Vanessa, or you?”

“Vanessa did,” said Jack in a low tone of voice.

At this point Edgar reappeared with a tray containing a tall green-labeled bottle with a clear liqueur and three small glasses.

“Ah, good, let’s move back to the sitting room.” Marguerite seated Jack in the same leather chair he had been in before dinner. She steered me, however to a leather love seat that faced it and joined me there, placing me on her right with her arm casually draped across my shoulders. The submissive snow queen, dressed in white, contrasting with – the Domme – dressed in black. Edgar served the liqueur to the three of us. She sat and crossed her legs, and the dressing gown fell away, exposing both legs almost to the hip.

“Berliner Luft, or Berlin Air, is special brand of peppermint schnapps from East Germany. It’s not easy to get here, but American GI’s who are able to cross into the east buy it and bring it home. It’s very good for the digestion. Prost!” she raised her glass, and tipped it to her lips.

“Prost!” Jack and I said together, following her example.

Marguerite put the empty glass down, and Edgar promptly refilled it.

I was thinking that I had drunk more alcohol in the last two hours than I’d had in the last two months. I wasn’t much of a drinker, and neither was Jack, although he obviously had more body mass than I did. I didn’t feel drunk, though, but I did feel pretty relaxed!

I looked down at Marguerite’s long legs, and figured, sauce, goose, gander, etc. I wanted to touch her, but I wasn’t sure how to start. I put my left hand on her right upper thigh, just above the stocking top, and began to play with the garter and the stocking.

“I asked you to tell me that story, so that I could understand more about your relationship, but also because I believed you both needed to hear a little from each other. I know you came to see me to talk more about this, and we shall.

“Jack seems to know quite a bit and Vanessa is clearly learning – and eager to learn more, I see...” She uncrossed her legs and her left hand captured my left hand and gently guided it upwards, in between her thighs.

“We use the term dominant and submissive to represent the roles we take on in our relationships. The dominant, usually referred to as a dom for a man and a domme for a woman, makes the rules in the relationship. The domme’s preferences and desires define the relationship, and the sub agrees to the rules and allows the domme to control him. The sub has turned power over to the domme.

“But all dominants and submissives are different,” she continued, “just like all people. Some subs like and need pain in the relationship, some need humiliation, some must have multiple partners, and some want only to be of service to their domme. In these relationships, safe words are often used to prevent real damage to the sub, whether it be physical or psychological or emotional.”

Marguerite lifted my chin up at this point and kissed me lightly on the lips. My left hand slipped deeper into the hollow between her thighs, brushing the lips of her pussy. Her right hand first pulled me closer, then slipped under the top of my gown, and was now resting beside my right breast, cupping it really. Jack said nothing. I looked at him, and he was looking at us intensely over the rim of his glass. I was deep in “Vanessa” mode and awaited his direction, or objection.

Marguerite continued. “There is another set of terms – top and bottom. Topping and bottoming are more the descriptions of things we do inside the relationship to satisfy our needs. It’s possible to be a little of both – for example, a domme who gets pleasure from meeting the needs of her sub; a sub who knows exactly what he wants in terms of humiliation, or bondage, or pain, and drives the relationship to obtain those things that he needs.

“Subs can have real power in a relationship, even though they have, on the surface, ceded that power to the domme. I think that describes something that is happening in your relationship. You are the dom, Jack, and your desires set the tone. But Vanessa knows what she wants, what she needs, and doesn’t hesitate to demand it – to use your words – from you. What’s important, I think, is to recognize it, and make it work for you.”

I was trying to listen, to understand, and I think it was getting through, but other matters were beginning to take priority in my consciousness. I had discovered that Marguerite’s pussy was also shaved. Not completely, like mine; hers had a small patch of hair just above the clitoral hood. Additionally I had discovered that she was – also – wet. My fingers had been slipping in and out of her pussy, and I lifted them out and up to my mouth and sucked my fingers while looking once more directly at Jack.

The fingers on Marguerite’s right hand were now gently tugging and rolling my right nipple through the thin material of the bustier. When she saw me suck my fingers, she captured them with her left hand, leaned over and languidly sucked them too. Then she lifted my chin and kissed me again.

This was no chaste kiss on the lips this time; her lips opened, her tongue drove deep into my mouth and met mine, and the two tangled in delicious combat for a long moment. Her left hand came up behind my ear and pulled my head closer. I kissed her back with equal abandon. My fingers returned to her pussy and began to stroke her more urgently, now gently brushing the clitoris itself. Her right hand was now inside the bustier on my breast, cool fingers against my heated flesh, continuing to tease my now rigid nipple.

She broke from the kiss and continued her thought, a little breathless this time. I could see that Jack was breathing heavily as well. He shifted his weight a little in the leather chair. His cock was getting hard, I realized.

I was about to come apart at the seams.

“There is a third set of terms, Master and slave. Generally speaking, these are the most experienced and devoted practitioners, who have real in-depth knowledge of each other. The slave, in this case, has truly given power to the Master. Often, they know each other’s needs and boundaries so well that a safe word becomes unnecessary.”

At this point Marguerite leaned back in the love seat, and guided my face to her breasts. I slipped the robe off her shoulders, pulled the straps of her bustier down over her shoulders as well, and freed both of her lovely small breasts of their covering. I slipped down to my knees in front of her, and my lips sought her nipples and my hands were squeezing and fondling the fleshy globes.

At this point, I could hear Jack stand up – he bumped the low table in front of his chair slightly – and then I heard the metallic tingle of buckle and the faint sound of a zipper.

I couldn’t work my way down her body and kiss the soft flesh of her belly like I wanted because of the bustier and its attached stockings, so with her hands guiding my head, my lips quickly found their way between her legs. I had never kissed a woman’s pussy; heck, I had never been this close to a woman’s pussy before other than my own since I knew what one was.

But I knew the things that Jack did, that felt so good, and my teacher was not shy about providing guidance with gentle movements of her hands and quietly uttered phrases. I felt her hands grow tighter in my hair as I kissed and licked her most intimate flesh. I sucked on the outer lips as Jack had done for me, and pulled gently on them and the dark moistness of the interior with my tongue and lips.

I had tasted my own juices on Jack’s cock before, but that had not been as intense as the smell and taste of Marguerite. She began to rock her hips against my face and I drove my tongue deeper into her and captured her clit. Suddenly I could feel the orgasm approaching; she began to buck against my mouth and tongue as I strove to suck and lick her, trying to draw all of her sweet tender pussy into my mouth. She made small cries of passion and then was suddenly silent.

I glanced up to see why and saw that Jack was standing by the love seat, her face in his hands and his stiff cock filling her mouth. I redoubled my efforts, wanting to draw the orgasm out of her so she could focus on sucking Jack’s cock. Marguerite’s bucking against my straining lips and tongue became more intense, both faster and wilder. Suddenly I could feel her tension release; along with the sudden feeling came more of her delicious juices, which I hastened to suck and swallow.

Jack continued to fuck Marguerite’s mouth. Her cheeks hollowed with the effort of taking him all in. The shudders from her own orgasm beginning to fade, Marguerite turned her body slightly to adjust his angle of attack and suddenly his cock was buried full length in her throat.

I’ve got to learn how to do that, I said to myself, remembering Rick’s pile-driver assault on my unwilling mouth and throat the night of the “scene.” Had it really only been two weeks ago?

I looked at my lovers (plural, I thought in a detached way) and knew Jack’s moment would be soon; his ass was tightening and his balls seemed to swell slightly as he came. And cum he did. I could see the length of his cock expanding and contracting rhythmically inside her throat as he ejaculated and I could see her throat working desperately to get it all down. It was surreal – I had never seen anything like it. Marguerite’s long, pale, swan-like neck, framed by the coil of her jet-black braid lying across her shoulder and distended by the thick cock buried within, pulsing as jet after jet of semen filled her.

Only I was denied an orgasm, but somehow, I didn’t feel cheated. What I had taken part in...what I had witnessed...it was amazing!

Marguerite’s body relaxed and a few heartbeats went by when no one said, or did, anything. Then I half-heard Marguerite murmur to Jack. His strong arms lifted me onto the love seat and turned me as Marguerite shifted onto the carpet and knelt at my feet. Her tongue found my dripping pussy and suddenly my head was slamming back into the seat. Marguerite’s skill far surpassed my own and even (dare I admit it?) Jack’s. This girl really knew how to eat pussy! I thought irreverently. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my dear God! I was already turned on beyond all imagining by the events of the last hour but now….I began to scream wordlessly as my orgasm rolled over me, wave after wave.

Jack staggered around the back of the seat and plopped down beside me, wrapping one arm about my shoulders much as Marguerite had done. Marguerite remained at our feet. After a few minutes, the general gasping for breath seemed to ease.

Marguerite turned her face upwards towards Jack and, with an unexpectedly severe expression said, “That will be twenty-five hundred dollars, please.”

Both of us stared at her, probably with our mouths hanging open.

Marguerite held the severe expression for another heartbeat or two. Then she covered her mouth and fell back against my leg laughing. Soon, we got the joke and began to laugh as well.

“I’m so sorry, I couldn’t help myself, but you should have seen the looks on your faces!”

She got up on her knees again, and gave Jack’s no-longer-fearsome cock a kiss and then did the same for my pussy. Then she reached behind my hip onto my ass cheek with her hand, pulling me closer to her, and gave my pussy another slow lick with her expert tongue and looked into my eyes for a long moment.

She glanced over towards the wall, where Edgar still stood silently, and breathed, “Well, that was fun, but it’s back to coal mining for me.”

“What?” Jack queried.

Marguerite responded. “I mean back to my work. How do you say it? Not coal mines?”

Jack chuckled. “The American expression is ‘back to the salt mines.’ Not coal mines.”

“Sometimes my tongue fails me,” she laughed back, sticking her tongue out and wagging it.

“I can’t imagine that at all,” I said, sticking my own tongue out and licking my lips. Marguerite smiled back and said nothing.

A moment later, she began to stand up. “Let me show you where you are sleeping. I still have some responsibilities to attend to, but there is no reason for you not to relax. You are welcome to stay out here, have more wine or schnapps as you like, but I must deprive you of Edgar’s services. It’s time to deliver what he really came for.”

Marguerite showed us down the hall to a well-appointed bedroom, suite really, with a king-sized bed and its own bath.

“Please relax. I think there is everything you might need in the room. Use anything you want, if you discover there is something you need that is not there and you cannot find it, I will be available in an hour or so.

“Tomorrow, we will have a further opportunity to discuss any of your additional questions or needs at breakfast. Please, take your ease.”

At that, she disappeared in the direction of her own room, and we went into ours. It wasn’t really that late, but it had been an eventful day. We had no bags to unpack, so we both began to look around for the things we might need for the night and morning. The place was fully equipped for strays like ourselves, with all sorts of toiletry items, including shaving (shaving!) gear, lounging robes, and slippers.

Jack and I sat down on the bed for a moment and just looked at each other.

“Wow,” he said, looking at me, “that was a little more than we bargained for!”

I nodded in response without speaking.

He continued, “Are you OK?”

I nodded again. “She and I had exchanged some looks at her store, and she had caressed me a couple of times. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to go through with it,” I giggled a little, “but the alcohol helped. She IS dominant, and she clearly had no difficulty taking charge of me tonight. She even dressed me for the occasion!

“I was a little worried that you might object when I began to touch her…you hadn’t really given me permission. But it seemed that you liked what happened. I’ve heard it said that men like to see two women together, but I wasn’t sure about your reaction.”

“Did you enjoy it?” He queried.

I smiled. “What do you think?”

He smiled back. “I think you are a submissive slut, which is just the way I want you. I also think you may be a little bisexual. I don’t mean that as criticism, just as an observation. If you weren’t enjoying sex with Marguerite tonight you did some fantastic acting. What I witnessed between you two tonight was hot – almost the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Really? What was hotter than that?” I asked, genuinely curious.

Jack looked into my eyes. “Seeing Rick fuck you when you were bound and blindfolded.”

Wow indeed. That took me back. I remembered how brutal that had been, and how hot it had made me feel. I began to feel a tingling in my pussy again, just thinking about it. And where I was tonight, that was largely a result of the way Rick and Jack (and DeeDee) had changed me that night. Again I wondered...had it only been two weeks?

“How did you feel about seeing me with her?” He asked off-handedly.

“How could I object? You are in charge, we had that discussion already. I’ve already imagined you with DeeDee and I think I am OK there. With Marguerite, she and I were already making love when you joined in. How could I object then?

“Remember what I said tonight, about what DeeDee told me the night we had our fight? She said that I was your most precious possession. Is that still true?”

He drew me close. “Truer than ever. You become more desirable every day. I will NEVER release you. Lend you, maybe, but never let you go.” Then he kissed me. It was not an all-out “let’s fuck” kiss, but rather a warm, loving caress.

We began to ready ourselves for bed. I went to the bathroom to pick up a glass to get some water and the glass slipped out of my hand, fortunately falling on a soft rug instead of the tile floor. Nevertheless, it managed to break a chip out of the rim and I needed another glass.

I had already undressed and showered, but I put the white gown back on and slipped into some high-heeled mules that were in the closet. I could have worn a proper robe but I liked the thin, revealing material that Marguerite had given me to wear earlier. I left the room and headed for the kitchen, which I assumed was behind the dining area. Just coming out of our bedroom and back into the hall, I encountered Marguerite.

She was dressed entirely differently this time. Skin-tight black leather pants, high laced-up high-heeled boots, a short close-fitting leather jacket, and a leather peaked cap, similar to a police cap but narrower and taller. She actually looked pretty amazing (again), and very intimidating.

“Liebchen, was brauchst du?” Marguerite inquired gently.

I looked at her without comprehension.

Marguerite laughed and said, “I’m sorry, my darling, I’m in my German brain. Edgar likes me to berate him in German. He’s Jewish, so I think it’s part of his need for humiliation. That’s the reason for this outfit, although I think I look good in it myself. He would have me wear a Nazi armband, I think, but I will not do that, for him or anyone else.” She shook her head.

“Did you need something?”

I told her about the glass, and she ushered me into the kitchen, where she quickly provided a replacement.

As I turned to leave, she said, “Wait...” and I stopped, and turned to face her.

She reached out and pulled me close. Even with the heels on, she towered over me.

“I used the word ‘delicious’ to describe you before, at the shop. I want another word for you, one that is to ‘delicious’ as, perhaps, ‘blazing hot’ would be to ‘warm.’ You are blazing hot, and you cause me to burn as well, with hunger for you. I have known many men, and women, but you are something special.

“I think you have a good man in Jack, who loves you and has the potential to be a good Dom for you. But know this,” she continued, “I would make you my own pet in a second, were you to wish it. If Jack allows it, I will take you and train you. You belong on your knees, Vanessa.”

She kissed me then, more aggressively than she had in the love seat earlier. She bit my lip in her kiss, I tasted my own blood.

“Go to your room, girl. I will come to you later.”

I did as I was told.

When I entered our room, Jack was just toweling off after leaving the shower. “What took you so long? I was going to come looking for you as soon as I was dry.”

“I ran into Marguerite. She was just coming back from...doing whatever she was doing to Edgar. She was dressed for the part. And Jack...” she trailed off for a second. “She made it clear she was hot for me, and was going to ask for your permission to train me.”

“And how do you feel about that?”

“I get a vote, right?”

“Always.”

I knelt on the carpet at Jack’s bare feet. “I vote for you to decide.”

******

We got into bed together, naked, as was our custom, and kissed in a relaxed fashion. We had both had an exhilarating and exhausting day, so it wasn’t long before I flipped around into our “spoon” position, and soon Jack’s breath became regular and even. I couldn’t go to sleep; I hadn’t told Jack that Marguerite’s last words to me were “I will come to you later.”

Soon, however, the door opened and Marguerite’s sleek form was outlined in the dim light from the hall. She slipped into bed beside me, naked, her long hair loose, damp and slightly smelling of shampoo.

“Will he waken?” She asked quietly.

“He generally sleeps pretty soundly,” I answered.

“Later, for him, then.” She responded.

I wasn’t exactly sure what she meant, but I didn’t really care at the moment. I wanted her.

We embraced, and I began to kiss her without waiting for command or invitation. The kisses were gentle and tender at first, and then more intense. I broke away and began to nibble her ears and kiss her neck. She giggled when my hair tickled her face as I worked my way around her shoulders. I gave both of her lovely boobs my devoted focus this time, no clothing or position issues in the way of my attentive lips and tongue (and gently-applied teeth where appropriate). When I was sure both of her nipples were stiff and distended, and her breathing had begun to grow ragged, I continued down her rib cage and belly with my kisses.

I skipped the obvious target and began to lick and kiss her long, smooth legs, down to the ankles, and then her feet. I took each toe in my mouth and sucked it as if they were each one a tiny cock. I planned to work my way up the back of her legs, but I felt her begin to shift positions. She pulled on my legs and it came to me that she wanted me to rotate them over her head so that, as my lips approached her pussy, she would be in position to do the same for me. She wants to sixty-nine? I thought silently. Jack and I had tried something similar a few times but found it a little awkward.

It wasn’t awkward with Marguerite.

Later, we both lay back, exhausted, fingers intertwined. This would have been the time for a cigarette in the movies, but clearly neither one of us had that habit. I was surprised that Jack was still asleep, but Marguerite’s pussy had apparently been an effective (and intoxicating) gag against my usual noise.

Marguerite leaned over and kissed me gently. “I will see you both in the morning, liebchen.”

At that, she slipped silently out.

Had I just been unfaithful? Disobedient? Or just the slut they both wanted me to be? I wasn’t really sure, and at the moment, I didn’t really care.

Soon, I too was asleep.

******

The morning came brightly through the windows. Jack was already up and in the bathroom brushing his teeth. He urged me to hit the shower (knowing my pre-, during, and post-shower activities took way longer than his routine).

I did so, and, after completing my initial ablutions, came back into the bedroom.

Imagine my surprise to see Marguerite’s slender legs wrapped around Jack’s hips, with his naked buttocks clenching and unclenching as he lay on top of her and pumped her with his cock! She glanced over at me, sweat streaking her face, and smiled. I smiled back and blew her a kiss as I turned and went back into the bathroom.

I looked into the mirror in the bathroom, searching my feelings as I searched my face. No guilt or jealousy resided there. I was simply Vanessa, plaything for Marguerite and Jack. And I loved it!

After a little interval, I returned to the bedroom. Jack and Marguerite were lying facing each other, talking quietly. I climbed back into the bed behind Jack and kissed the back of his neck. I think it startled Jack a little, but he relaxed as I kissed my fingers, reached across his shoulder to brush back a lock of Marguerite's jet black hair, and place the kiss on her cheek.

With clear reluctance, Marguerite rose from the bed.

“Breakfast in five minutes!” she said brightly. “It will be simple, European-style. Coffee and juice also. No need to dress up!” And she was off the bed and out of the room.

Jack pulled on a pair of loose silk pajama bottoms he found in a drawer, and I decided I could get one more wear out of the white silk dressing robe that was part of my “snow queen” outfit from the night before. That, plus the high-heeled mules I had found in the closet, comprised my complete outfit.

Marguerite had a similar idea. She was wearing a black silk jacket, with multicolored dragons embroidered on the lapels, that was even shorter than the dressing robe she had worn the night before. Once again, she buttressed her already commanding height with high-heeled black mules.

On the table was a selection of breads, cheeses, and cold cuts, as well as sliced fruit. She queried our coffee needs with a look and then poured for us.

“We have a little more talking to do. I had hoped we could discuss this last night, but other activities interfered.” She smiled coquettishly. “You both have much to learn, and I would happily take the time, but I know you have to get back to your school and I have my own requirements today.

“Jack, I don’t recommend the use of a belt on Vanessa, except as a last resort. It does too much damage and the welts last too long. I suggest you use a flogger, you can whip with it or pull the blow at the end and just hit with the tips. A paddle is also good. I have prepared packages with all of the clothing and shoes from yesterday and last night, and I’ve put a flogger and paddle in there.”

I began to pay closer attention.

“Secondly. You mentioned to me this morning, Jack, that you were looking for ways to mark her.”

I was paying really close attention now. Mark?

“I put a small catalog of jewelry in your package. I have a jeweler here who will make, and install, anything you want. Collars, rings, piercing jewelry. When you have decided, or if you want to discuss advantages or disadvantages, let me know. If you decide to tattoo or brand her, I can arrange that also. Those are serious steps, as you know, so consider carefully.”

Pierce? Tattoo? Brand? Holy shit!

“Also, the shaving. I would suggest you consider another means of keeping her bare. I myself had electrolysis done. It’s permanent, but it takes a number of sessions to complete. The laser, I am not sure about. I’ve heard it works well, but it is expensive. I have a clinic here that will do the electrolysis, and I would be glad to set that up for you.”

“Marguerite, you’ve been enormously helpful – more than helpful, I think. We must pay you for all of these things, the clothes, the shoes, the...the...flogger and paddle.” Jack started.

Marguerite waved her hand dismissively. “Trust me, I have enjoyed our experiences together. And I expect I will be hosting you both again, and especially Vanessa. You promised to let me train her, and I look forward to that.” She licked her lips.

“And I am very interested in meeting this other sub, this DeeDee. Oh, and her Dom, too. We must arrange that.” She paused for a moment. “Do you have other questions? I don’t mean to rush you, but we all need to get dressed for the day.”

Jack hesitated for a moment. “You never really said much about your feelings concerning how we got here...I mean, how we developed this relationship. Particularly the scene with Rick and DeeDee.”

Marguerite looked at both of us for a long moment. “It is not for me to judge. Your way is your way. You took a big risk, bigger because of the lie. A D/s relationship is not about force, not in my view, anyway. It’s more about trust.

“The sub commits her willingness to obey you, trusting that you won’t hurt her permanently. And we’re not talking just physically here. But,” she smiled, “in your case, it worked! Vanessa is clearly submissive. Demanding, needy, pushy, maybe even a little bratty at times. But she does belong on her knees. And I will happily help you keep her there!”

Bratty? I thought. Who’s bratty? But Marguerite was leaning forward to kiss me, and I held her embrace a long time. She kissed Jack just as thoroughly.

“Now, go get dressed. No need to say goodbye; the doorman will help you with your packages and your car. I must get...to the salt mines!”

And with that, she whirled away down the hall.

Jack and I looked at each other. Wow! What a sendoff!