SLIPPING INTO DEPRAVITY - Ch. 37, Helen gets punished

THE ENSLAVEMENT OF HELEN AND COLIN, PART 3

KAYLEY

Helen was telling me she didn’t have a clitoris. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“Nope,” Helen said, with unshakable certainty. “I don’t have one. All the other parts, the lips, the pee place, the ... canal, yes. Definitely. No citrus.”.

It's a fucking clitoris, not an orange! I almost screamed at her. And you fucking have one. You do! You do! You absolutely do! You're not some weird Christian-cult mutant. You're just a creepy little bobblehead and you absolutely, definitely, completely have a clitoris!!!

With an effort, I locked it all down and put on a carefully neutral, friendly expression.

“I’m pretty sure you do,” I insisted.

She shook her head.

“No,” she said firmly.

“I don’t think she does either,” Colin said, “I’ve never noticed it.”

Oh Jesus Christ, Colin, what's wrong with you? I swallowed that down too.

I stared at both of them. Were they fucking with me? I kept waiting for them to burst out laughing, but they seemed so sincere. For a moment, I thought about throwing an epic tantrum. How could they be that stupid? That naive? That innocent?

Yeah, sharp Kayley, beating up on a couple of naive innocent kids. I felt ashamed of myself, for even thinking of letting loose on them.

I sighed.

“Okay!” I said finally. I put on an artificially bright smile. “So one more time, then we’ll skip the written test and proceed with the driver’s portion of the exercise.”

They just looked at me.

Finally, I snapped my fingers twice to fix their attention and stood up. Either they knew it all along and they were fucking with me, a proposition I had no evidence for. Or they had eventually gotten it, another unproven hypothesis. Or it was time to just give up and go on to the next phase.

“All right,” I said. “Let’s see what you’ve learned! Show and tell time, boys and girls! Off those chairs, and on your knees.”

I turned around and sat my ass on the table, pulling two chairs close so I could brace my feet. Legs spread wide. Oh fuck, they were on their knees. My pussy clenched. I really loved naked people on their knees looking up at me. I loved it way too much. I needed to be careful about that, before I started a cult or something.

A room full of naked people on their knees in front of me... Just the thought made my clit throb. I wondered how I could arrange...

Down girl!!!

I pointed at Colin.

“You first, pretty boy,” I ordered, “crawl over hear and see if you can find the clitoris! You might win a prize!”

Soon, his mouth was on my vagina. His tongue seemed to probe the general area, while his lips moved with something resembling purpose. That was an improvement at least. I slid my hand along his scalp and wrapped fingers in his hair to guide him.

“Wrap your arms around my thighs,” I told him, “reach in just above my pussy, fingers flat, and pull upward. That lifts the clit hood.... Okay... now a little higher... a little lower.... there, can you feel it on your tongue? No? How can you not feel... Oh never mind. Just stay in that area.... Slow down... now a little faster... Try making circles...”

I sucked in breath, and looked over at Helen, watching us with something like horrified fascination. Or was it confusion?

"Are you watching?"

She nodded, attention rapt but dubious. She clearly wasn't sure about this, but couldn't look away. I didn't have the impression she was turned on. It was more the expression of someone watching a car crash.

That was so flattering! Stupid bobblehead.

I pushed Colin’s head back a little, he paused.

"Don't stop!" I ordered, and snapped my fingers with my free hand.

"But..."

"Just stick your tongue out," I ordered. "It will reach. You can focus more. Just remember the Alamo."

"What?" he asked.

Fuck, I thought to myself.

"Remember the citrus!" I corrected.

Double fuck! Now they've got me doing it.

"Look," I told him, "just stick your tongue out as far as it will go, and keep touching the tip around the top, where my lips are spread open. Got that."

Don't make me get out the diagrams, I thought. But he complied.

I snapped my fingers. "You, Bobblehead, get over here, I want you to get a better look."

Oh shit, did I just call Helen a bobblehead out loud? I was mortified. I felt myself blushing all over, going hot with embarrassment. Luckily, she didn't seem to notice, and simply moved closer. I pulled her gently to me, so that our hips were touching, and she was looking down directly at Colin as his tongue probed away.

“Pay attention,” I told her, and kissed her cheek in a friendly way. “You’re next.”

I let Colin continue to mess about, offering occasional instructions and guidance, until I’d decided he was a passable beginner and was starting to show the appropriate enthusiasm.

Enthusiasm counts for a lot with this kind of thing. Well, I don’t know how much it actually counts for, but it definitely makes up for lack of skill. Look: It’s men, all right. Standards are just lower.

“Your turn,” I told Helen, once I was nice and dripping wet and starting to pant. I pushed Colin and he knee walked back. He was hard, I took that as a good sign. I patted her ass, and she knelt obediently between my legs, her face inches from my pussy, I pulled my clit hood back and pointed.

“See this, that’s my clitoris, you see it?”

My pussy was wet, and I could feel it hard and excited, my sweet bean. Surely she could see, it was practically on a pink platter.

She poked it with her fingertip. Oh! Ow! What the fuck?

“No,” I said crossly. “You don’t poke it! Why did you poke it! It’s not a rattlesnake. Are you Steve Irwin? Did you want a stick to poke it with? What’s wrong with you two.”

No, I thought, I was being mean. I needed to stop. I took a deep breath. Another deep breath. I looked down at Helen, on her knees below me, her head between my thighs. She looked up, her eyes were wide. I hoped I hadn't frightened her. I took a deep breath and smiled down.

“It’s okay,” I told her, “you’re doing great!”

“You don’t poke, the clitoris,” I explained gently. “Other things you poke, but not the clitoris. You stroke it, you circle it, you fondle it, you lick it, you tease it, if you’re kinky you pinch it–”

Wait! She was reaching with thumb and forefinger! I grabbed her wrist, lightning quick. She looked up, confused. I smiled reassuringly.

“Don’t pinch the clitoris!” I said quickly. “Just be nice to it. Just ... appreciate it. It’s there, you can see it, now that you know where to look.”

“Yes,” Helen said. “I see it, and all the other parts."

Oh thank god!

"Except the pee hole.”

“It’s there too,” I said.

“How come I can’t see yours?”

“Focus on the clitoris.”

“Okay.”

“Remember, you have one too.”

“No I don’t.”

Oh Jesus!

I grabbed her hair, struggling to be gentle.

“Well, until yours comes in, you can lick mine.”

Then I shoved her face into my cunt. She was more timid, at first, I could feel the reluctance. But I patted her hair, and called her pet and good little slave, I told her what to do, and praised her for how well she was doing.

Then I felt it, I couldn’t see it, but I felt it, her smile and then a little roll in her hip as she moved. Then more and more enthusiasm. Her tongue danced, her lips pressed, and she even dipped down as far as my asshole, making me sigh and gasp, before going up.

Then she found it!

“Oh,” I whispered, “you are such a good little pet. I may have to keep you. Yes I will. Yes I will. Who’s a good little pet.”

I was getting very close.

“Oh fuck,” I whimpered, right on the edge. I pushed her head away. “That’s enough. Back off a little.”

I held my stomach, feeling my pussy clench, as I panted and came down from my near orgasm.

“Are you okay?” Colin asked. They were watching me.

Oh, it was so fucking close, I took a deep breath. Maybe I should have gone for it. I could have. But no, not in front of the pets. Also, their cat was watching me. Everyone knows it’s impossible to come when a cat is watching you. They’re so judgmental. It’s like they’re critiquing your orgasm, and not generously.

I nodded.

“I’m fine.” I took another deep breath. “Colin, you have some idea of what to do, and Helen, you should have a better sense of what you have down there. It’s your turn. Come on up on the table beside me.”

I patted.

“Me?” she asked.

“You,” I replied.

“I don’t know,” she said, doubtfully. “It doesn’t really seem hygienic.”

I nodded.

“Number one, it’s a little late for that given that my pussy juices are all over both your faces. And Number two, you’re both my slaves and you do what I tell you.”

She still looked doubtful.

“The words you’re looking for is ‘Yes Miss Kayley, right away Miss Kayley!’ Then you do what you’re told.”

I snapped my fingers twice.

“Right now!”

“Yes, Miss Kayley! Right away Miss Kayley!” spoken in a rush, as she scrambled up on the table.

Pets, you have to be firm, or they’ll just walk all over you.

Also, slaves, ditto.

At least the cat had wandered off into the bedroom.

As she settled in on the table, I pulled one of her legs over mine, and eased her toward until her butt was on the edge.

“Spread, sweetie,” I ordered, watching as she complied. “Nervous?”

“A little,” she admitted.

I put an arm over her shoulders.

“You’ll be fine,” I said, “I’m right here.”

I reached down between her legs, making her gasp as I slid a finger inside, and worked my knuckles along her clit hood, right where her allegedly nonexistent clit should be. She gasped, stiffening and then relaxing.

Yeah ‘I don’t have a clit’ my ass! I thought with satisfaction.

“You’re already wet, so wet,” I teased, my voice dropped to a whisper. “I think you really liked licking my pussy.”

She blushed. Yes, I thought, world’s worst poker player. I could so clean them both out. I snapped my fingers twice and pointed at Colin, before she was too embarrassed. He worked his way forward, as I held her pussy lips open for him.

She tensed as his head brushed her thighs.

"Shhh," I whispered. "Trust me. This will be good for both of you."

Maybe I was overdoing it. Maybe it would be easier to just have Colin kneeling there and jerking off while I fingered her until she admitted that, yes Santa, she did have a clitoris. It was sinful how much I liked that idea of Colin kneeling and jerking off.

But then she'd probably imprint on me, and follow me around like a puppy. I wanted to get them into each other and leave me out of it.

As Colin’s mouth closed on her pussy, I kept my fingers on her, pulling back to expose her clit hood, fingering lightly around it, feeling his tongue lap against it.

“Hoo!” Helen cried, she made such odd sex sounds. Her body stiffened, relaxed, stiffened again. I could feel the tensions rippling through her thigh over my leg. “My! Oh me! My! My!”

I pressed, pulling her clit hood, so she was exposed to Colin, and watched her reaction. Her eyes went heavy lidded, she leaned her head back against me, panting lightly. I pushed my fingers down, tapping out a soft beat, making semicircles, seeing her response intensify.

Slipping my hand from her pussy, I reached out to pat Colin’s head.

“Good boy,” I assured him. To make sure, I took a grip in his hair, trying to guide him a little.

“Ooh-hoo,” Helen groaned. “Ooh my my my. Me my. Dear! My!”

I let Colin go, and worked my fingers up again her pubic mound, pressing down. As Colin licked wildly, I focused in beneath her clit hood. The effect was electrical, she heaved, her body stiffening. She cried out incoherently. Her hips jerked. I could feel her against me, her face going red, her body going hot, muscles rigid and trembling. For a moment, her right hand flailed, and then she brought it down on Colin’s head, pushing his face and my fingers against her mound.

“OH MMMMY MY MY MY!” she shouted, and squirted in his face. He struggled for a moment, but she wasn’t letting go her death grip. I held her until it passed through her and she was left panting, the tension flowing out. She took deep breaths. Her liquid continued to trickle out, and I realized she was no longer squirting, she was peeing.

“Colin,” I said quickly but gently. “Be a dear and go get the paper towels. Now.”

He scrambled. I hoped she hadn’t peed on him. I’d tried to convey calmness, and that this wasn’t gross or anything. Although it was. It wasn’t weirdly hot at all. Nope. Gross.

Helen laid back on the table. I should have made them go to the bathroom first, I thought to myself.

“What was that?” she asked dreamily.

I thought for a moment about how to respond, and decided it was best to come clean.

“That was an orgasm,” I said.

“Oh,” she seemed to think it over. “That’s not at all what I thought an organize ‘em was.”

“You’ve been having sex for a year,” I said. And this was her first orgasm. That was tragic.

“It’s been good,” she assured me. “Colin has been good. He’s a wonderful lover.”

No orgasms for the whole marriage up to now. Also, I hadn’t seen Colin last longer than three minutes. Uh huh. I tried to dial back my cruelty, it wasn’t their fault, they were naive kids, raised ignorant, stumbling through life together.

They were in love, and they were trying their best.

“It’s been good, and Colin is great,” I agreed. “But now it’s going to get better.”

I hoped that didn’t sound like I was making commitment or anything.

She looked up at me.

“You were right,” she said, “I do have a citrus.”

What? Oh right, clitoris. She kept doing that. I suppressed the urge to correct her. It wasn’t really the time to be a spelling Nazi.

“Told you.”

“It was like a little tiny land mine, I could feel it going off.”

“That’s a hell of a description.”

I reached out and bopped her nose.

“Pet?”

“Yes.”

“You peed, didn’t you?”

She blinked.

“Yes, I guess,” she said. “After the organiz ‘em I just felt so relaxed it just sort of went.”

I nodded.

“Did I do something wrong?”

I shook my head.

“No way. Not at all. It’s just,” I scrunched my face, “a little messy. Hard on sheets, the mattress. Smell can stick around.”

“Sorry.”

I shrugged.

“First time,” I told her. “Don’t worry about it. You’ll have more control next time.”

I paused thoughtfully. “Or if not, get a plastic liner for the bed. Either way, no worries.”

I bopped her nose again, and she giggled a little.

“Okay,” she said. “At least let us lick your citrus–”

“Clitoris!”

“Let us lick your citorus until you organize.”

“Orgasm,” I corrected. I shook my head. Not with pee dripping off the table and the stupid cat watching to critique me. Somehow, the urge to have one had faded. I think I was in too much of a ‘taking care of them’ mode.

“You know what? From now on, just say ‘come.’ Anyway, I’m good.”

I sat up, to check on my other victim, busily mopping up. Victim?

“Hey sweety,” I said, “you okay? Did she get you?”

“The first splash, yes,” he said.

“That’s okay then,” I said, “that’s a squirt, female orgasm. Doesn’t always happen when a woman comes. You should consider it a badge of honour.”

I paused.

“Do you need a hand?”

“I got it.”

I nodded.

“Do you need a shower? Wash your face to feel cleaner?”

“I’m fine.”

“Okay,” I said, “let’s all just relax. Come over to the futon.”

I dragged Helen off the table, and the three of us navigated around the coffee table. I pulled the blanket cover off and we all huddled under it, pressing naked bodies together. I felt relaxed and comfortable, between them, their body heat radiating. This was nice. They were nice. It was odd to think they were only a few years younger, they seemed so innocent and naive. But really, they were sweet kids, and my lingering guilt had long since evaporated away. I felt I’d done something good for them, improved their lives.

We’d cuddle for a while, I thought. Then we’d hug it out, maybe chat a bit. And then I’d go home, all my karma cleansed. I smiled and relaxed.

“I’m ready to go again,” Helen said, “what’s next.”

Oh for fuck’s sakes!

“So am I,” Colin said. “I’m ready.”

Double fuck!

Okay, think fast. We’d done Oral Sex 101. Colin’s erection was back, it had been back for a while, so we could work with that. AP Blow Jobs? No. Maybe demand some Kayley worship? Tempting. What if I made them both kneel at my feet licking my toes. I liked that idea way more than I should. I could really take advantage of them... if I was an awful person. I didn't want to be an awful person. I flashed on the way I'd treated Sam and shuddered.

Hmmm. Fuck Colin again? No way! A ninety second tumble, forget it, I’d be just starting and he’d be over. Besides, I didn’t want to do it in front of Helen, that’s how this all started.

And the fucking cat would probably be watching.

How about Colin fucking Helen, I thought? Make them do all the work, while I sat back and looked stern. Right, that could work. Low stress domination, I liked it. Maybe I could give some pointers disguised as orders and improve Colin’s technique. No disrespect to Helen who thought her sex life had been great, but she didn’t even know she had a clitoris. Even small pointers would be a sex miracle.

That would work. That was a plan.

“All right,” I said, standing up and stretching. “Colin, you get up. Pet, stay on the futon. I want you to get on all fours - knees and elbows. Arch your back.”

I needed to get a catsuit, I thought suddenly. Leather, vinyl, even spandex. Something. It kind of undermined the whole domination thing when you were as naked as your victims. Victims? Was that the right term? Submissives.

Note to self: Stop thinking about your victims as victims. I mean submissives.

I watched Helen get into position. Get them boning. That will take care of that, and if they take too long, I can sneak out while they’re distracted.

Wait. Did they know? They must have but who the hell could be sure? Neither of them had any idea of what a clitoris was.

“Okay,” I said, “just to be clear. When the penis gets hard and goes into the vagina, that’s sex.”

They looked at me like I was stupid.

Oh you little bitches!

You do not get to have that attitude with me. I suppressed the urge. You want to know why sadists are so mean to their subs? Because the little shits deserve it!

Still, better safe than sorry. Be kind. Be careful.

“Girls have two holes down there. There’s the one that poop comes out of, and the other one. The other one is called the vagina, and that’s the one you used for sex.”

“Yeah,” she said, “we know.”

She actually rolled her eyes at that.

The bitch!

“Watch the attitude, Pet,” I warned. “Just a little more disrespect, and I’d punish the fuck out you.

She stiffened, I could feel the sudden tension in her frame. That’s right, slave, smarten up.

Very briefly, I considered explaining anal sex to them, but then I came to my senses.

“Are you going to spank me?” Helen asked, with surprising eagerness.

“What?” Where the hell had that come from? For a moment, I was confused.

“My hairbrush is in the bedroom," Helen said quickly "Colin, go get it please?”

He jumped to comply, with more confidence and eagerness than he'd shown our whole time. What was going on?

Then it all fell into place. Home schooled, religious nutcase household. Complete ignorance of sex, plus physical discipline and weird religious ideas equals kink. Probably a lot of repression, lack of genuine affection even physical warmth. Maybe she didn't even get hugs. But discipline, lots of that, lectures and rules, and punishments. All that, together with insecurity lead to some deep craving for submission... All these insecurities and needs, compounding with ignorance and inexperience. She’d had a year of probably semi-comfortable, non-orgasmic sex, plus true love. But deep down, all these dark cravings from a fucked up upbringing.

Then one day she meets the woman who fucked her husband, but betrayal and jealousy is forgotten, because she turns out to be a full fledged dominatrix!

The next thing I know, she’s dragging me home so she can be a sex slave.

Suddenly, her ‘aim butt cheeks and pussy at the door’ pose when I walked into the bedroom made so much more sense now. Oh my god, she'd been presenting for punishment!

And how excited she seemed to get when I grabbed the hairbrush. I thought it was nerves or intimidation. But it was anticipation. She'd thought I was going to...

Holy shit. I’d misread that completely.

Oh geez, what had I walked into?

Colin was coming back with the hairbrush..

“I’m ready,” she almost sang. She actually wiggled her ass. Between her thighs, her pussy looked wet and bright, the lips swelling a little. She was getting wetter. Oh geez! How could she be so innocent, and so kinky?

Christianity had a lot to answer for!

What the fuck, Kayley! I thought. What am I doing? Colin handed me the hairbrush. I didn’t even know what side to use. I put it down beside me on the coffee table.

“I’m going to use my hand,” I announced firmly. “I’m going to slap that ass until you beg for mercy. Then I’m going to make Colin fuck you like a dog - doggy style, and you’re going to love it.”

“Be ready,” I told Colin, “when I give you permission, you’re going to pound the shit out of that tight little...”

Wait! If I said cunt, would it shock them?

“... that tight little hoo haa!”

Hoo haa. Oh my god, that was so embarrassing. What if I accidentally said that in front of Leroy or Sam, I’d just die.

“I’ve been bad,” Helen announced. “I’ve been a bad girl. I accept my pun–”

“Nope!” I said loudly. “None of that. You’re not being punished. I’m spanking you because I enjoy it. You’re my slave, so your duty is to please me.”

“I want to please you, Miss Kayley,” she said, “please–”

"Oh shut up," I told her, and smacked her ass cheek as hard as I could, leaving a very gratifying hand print. My hand stung, but at least she squeaked and shook. Take that, I thought.

Make me your mistress will you? I smacked her other cheek.

Try and be my submissive little sex slave? Smack!

You and your gumdrop shaped nipples! Smack!

Who calls it a citrus? Smack!

How dare you be so... sweet! Smack!

Innocent! Smack!

Naive! I was mad! Smack!

Jesus Christ my hand was stinging.

After a half dozen slaps, my palm was raw, I could barely close my hand. Why doesn’t anyone mention this? Helen was practically yawning. What was she made of? I was practically crippling myself, and I was on the edge of boring her. Her religious fanatic mother probably whaled on her twice a day with a fucking cricket bat.

“Colin!” I held my hand up, I could feel my fingers stinging and swelling up, hard to move, “Brush!”

“Okay,” I told Helen fiercely, desperate not to look like an idiot in front of them, “the warm up is over. Now you’re really going to get it. And then Colin’s big hard cock is going to split your slut pussy like cordwood, and you’re going to love every second of it.”

“Yes Miss Kayley!”

Way too enthusiastic! I flipped the brush around in my palm, rotating from smooth to bristly side, as if I knew what I was doing. But really, my hand just stung so much it was hard to hold. Bristles? No way!

To buy time, I slid my other hand between her legs, slipping two fingers in her cunt. She was so wet, they slid in with no resistance. She moaned like a normal person, arching her back.

“You slut!” I snarled, genuinely angry, “you’re getting off on this! You’re totally getting off!”

“I’m sorry Miss Kayley!” she cried out.

"Don't apologize!" I yelled

I whacked her with the smooth side, and got a gratifying squeal. I suspected she was still enjoying it. She wiggled and squirmed as if trying to get away, but I noticed she didn’t actually go anywhere. She remained right in place for the next one. I brought the brush down hard.

"You didn't do anything wrong!" I snarled.

I slapped the brush down on the other ass cheek, and she squealed.

"You don't deserve to be punished."

I whaled on her for at least a half dozen hard strokes, getting caught up in the satisfaction of smacking her with the brush. Take that you creepy little kinky nympho bobblehead! How can you be such a freak and not even have decent underwear!

Each strike seemed to ripple through her body, bring a new squeal. There was something so naked, so raw about her reactions, it excited me. Her response to each smack made me hungrier to do the next one, awoke this lust and cruelty in me. I found myself grinning and breathing hard, choosing my spots, trying to elicit a response. The pink blossoming on her ass cheeks was thrilling. I slammed harder.

"You are a kind and loving person, and you deserve to be loved! Do you hear me!"

"Yes Miss Kayley!!!"

I started to worry about bruising her. Hah, probably wasn’t even bothering her. The weird-ass little bobble-head home-school slut. I wanted to teach her a lesson, show her whose boss. She wouldn’t be able to sit down. Do it! Punish the fuck out of her!

Geez, get a grip, Kayley!

"Then say it!" I roared.

"I deserve to be punished!" she cried out.

I slapped her hard.

"Loved!" I snarled. "You deserve to be loved."

Smack.

"Sorry!!!!!"

"Say it then!"

"I deserve to be loved!"

I gave her a few strokes for good measure, and left her gasping and writhing on all fours on the futon. By the redness of her face and chest, and the way her back arched and flexed, I could tell she was aching for it. Even her toes were curling. I was panting, my pussy was wet, I could feel it. I had a sudden urge to mount her, squat over her, squeezing her face between my thighs, and punishing those gumdrop nipples. I imagined her gasping and thrashing under me as I worked towards orgasm. With an effort, I pulled back.

Helen was panting and shivering and giving these breathy little gasps.

Colin was standing beside me, eyes wide as saucers. Oh god, I hoped I hadn’t traumatized him.

Follow up thought: I hope he lasts more than two minutes this time.

Helen’s pussy was dilating, and shiny wet. I didn’t even need to touch her, she was actually dripping. I’d never seen anyone so wet. I could do it, I thought. I could flick that clit and make her come instantly.

No.

This wasn’t about turning these two into toys. This whole thing started because I was a selfish asshole and I used a stranger like a toy. It’s about them. I was a good person, not a monster. Not out of control. Not callous. Not like that night. Not to strangers.

Deep breath. Control.

I reached out and gently took hold of his cock, resisting the urge to squeeze it until he whimpered. To crush him like a bug and use him. Still rock hard, that was good. I pulled forward guided him onto the futon between Helen’s knees.

“Hands on her hips,” I ordered. “For stability.”

I was still holding his cock, guiding it up to her pussy.

Was I micromanaging too much? Fuck, domming was hard! I had a lot more sympathy for Leroy, especially with how easy he made it look. You don’t really appreciate it until you’ve done it yourself.

“Colin?”

He looked at me.

“I want you to make her organize,” I told him. “Orgasm! Come! Make her come! Hold off for her. Hold yours off as long as you can.”

“Yes Miss Kayley!”

I released him, and he started to slide in. I slapped his ass lightly with the back of the brush. He shouted with surprise and lunged forward, producing an answering squeal from Helen. It had been a hostile impulse, but I was thrilled at the result. He didn’t object. Clearly, he liked it too, I could tell. I did it again.

The minute it's too much, I told myself, the minute I see he doesn't like it, I'll stop.

“Faster!” I cried, smacking him, not too hard, not nearly as hard as Helen, but hard enough to leave red marks and have him lunge to my strikes. Still not objecting. There was a wild excitement in his eyes.

“Harder! Harder!”

“Hoo! Golly!” Helen was squealing. “My my my! Oh me! Golly!”

“Fuck her,” I roared, giving Colin another smack. Couldn’t she swear like normal people? It was so distracting.

Colin fucked her like a wild bronco, pounding her mercilessly. Every time he slowed, I’d smack his ass with the brush. And when he was going good, I’d reach under her and pinch one of those gumdrop nipples, or try and stroke her clit to excite her further.

“Golly me!” Helen shouted suddenly. “Golly me! Golly GOLLY GOLLY, OH MY GOLLY ME!”

She was coming.

“Go girl!” I shouted encouragement.

“Harder!” I smacked Colin.

Then she was gone, and a couple of minutes later, so was Colin. For a moment, they remained locked together, panting like dogs, sweat covered, bleary, sexual exhaustion and sheer happiness radiated off them in waves. As one, they seemed to look at me expectantly.

Wait.

My approval was required?

Fuck me.

“I’m very pleased,” I said solemnly. “With both of you.”

Their smiles turned into blissful grins. Helen stretched out on the futon, and Colin stretched out on top of her. For a moment, I wanted to poke them, so they’d be laying on their side, and he wouldn’t crush her, she was such a delicate little thing. But they seemed okay, and I was a dominatrix, not a mother hen.

I noticed she didn’t pee on the futon this time. Good. Maybe that was a fluke.

“Make room,” I ordered, pushing my way onto the futon. They squirmed about, until both their heads were in my lap, and I was stroking their hair.

“You did well, pets,” I told them. “You did very well.”

Helen giggled happily. Colin sort of did this pleased grunt.

“I think we’re done,” I said. “I’ll get going soon.”

“But you didn’t come,” Helen complained.

Yes, I noticed. Thank you for pointing that out. My lack of personal satisfaction had completely escaped me. I hadn’t noticed. I was totally not at all troubled by the unfairness of it all. Nope, I completely was not bothered by the fact that I hadn’t and wouldn’t be getting any, because I’d had to spend all my time taking care of those two whiny, demanding, little bitches. And their cat.

“That’s okay, Sweety,” I said. “This was training. I have to teach you to please each other, before I can start to train you to please me properly.”

Which... had a certain allure to it. The idea, I mean: A pair of hot and cold running sex slaves waiting on me hand and foot? Yummy. I flashed back on the two of them kneeling naked below me, as I'd sat on the table. A roomful of naked people kneeling in front of me. Ordering Colin to make out with Sam while I watched, oh my god, the things I could make them do while Helen licked me through one orgasm after another.

But I suspected that they might be more work than let on. A lot more work. They might be more demanding than I liked.

And how would I explain them to Sam?

‘Sam, they followed me home, can I keep them?’

‘Kayley, I warned you about collecting slaves.’

‘But they’re so cute! And submissive! Pleeeeeaaaassssse.’

‘Well, okay, but this is the last time.’

The calico cat jumped up in my lap, navigating around their heads, to find a comfortable spot to settle down and purr. I petted it. Helen turned around to smile up at me.

“Jezebel likes you,” she said happily, as if cats were ever any kind of judge of personality. Dogs sure, dogs could tell good people from bad, or at least people likely to feed them from people not likely to feed them. But cats? If they could, they wouldn’t because they didn’t care.

Anyway, I noticed Jezebel was a boy cat while it was showing me its anus.

“I like Jezebel too,” I said politely. “But...”

“Just a few more minutes...”

“Just a few...” I sighed.

It wasn’t actually bad to wait. It was kind of nice to be all together, albeit with a misgendered calico cat sticking its testicles in my face.

“You didn’t tie us up,” Helen said thoughtfully. “Or do the leash thing. Not much spanking. We didn’t do most of what you were saying you would do. Or the dress up.”

Oh fuck! Now I was getting notes!

“Well, you know,” I said airily, “Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

“I guess,” she said, “that will be next time? When you’ve got your domatricky stuff? Oh, and butt stuff too! Let's do that!"

Next time? Next time? Oh and wait, butt stuff? Where had she gotten that from? And Dominatrix stuff? Like she wanted me to have gear? What was she thinking, the kinky little Bobblehead? I played with her hair and looked down at her, as she stared up at me with complete innocence, not even a trace of guile. How can you be that naive and that perverted at once?

I wondered suddenly if either of them had a pee fetish? Nope! Don’t even think about that.

Oh Jesus, as if my life wasn’t complicated enough with Sam and Leroy and all Leroy’s bullshit and cucking and the booths and everything, now I had sex slaves! What was I going to do with sex slaves?

But I couldn’t just blow them off. God knows, if I left them running around on their own, what kind of horrible assholes they might end up with. They could get hurt. Goddamn. It’s like the Chinese say, give a person an orgasm, and they’re your responsibility for the rest of your life.

This is what comes of fucking waiters, I thought as I eventually got up and got dressed. Damn. Never again.

“I have a full schedule,” I said diplomatically.

“Oh sure,” Helen said airily. “We understand. I guess you do this professionally. We don't have much money, but...”

I opened my mouth, then closed it, forgetting what I was going to say.

"I'm not going to charge you."

Creepy little bobblehead, now she was giving me her big orphaned waif eyes, and smiling like I was the greatest person she'd ever met. I sighed.

“I’ll fit you in,” I told them. “We’ll keep in touch.”

Then they hugged me. Because, of course, they would hug me.

“I’m so glad you fucked my husband!” Helen told me, her eyes shining.

“Yay,” I said flatly.

&&&

It was late driving home. I wondered what I was going to tell Sam. God, my sex life had gotten weird and messed up since Leroy had come into our lives. Not that I could blame him for this.

There was no way I could tell Sam about this. This was just too crazy. I couldn’t even begin to explain it.

This was happening more and more, and it was eating into me. I sighed unhappily.

More and more it felt like I was keeping secrets, sins of omission, outright lies, and perhaps worst of all were the ones when I was with him.

I remembered my hunger for those men to come in me when we had our evening, and my desire, my need concealed from him. He wouldn’t have cared, but I’d needed to hide it. When we played with Leroy, there were hungers and cravings I could barely describe to myself, much less share with Sam.

And in the cuck sessions, and now in this latest encounter, something dark inside me had risen up and tried to seize control, something dark and predatory. A relentless cruelty. And alongside, a hunger for power, for control, for domination. Was this just the other side of my submissive nature, or something else. I had no idea. I’d felt it with Helen and Colin, though I’d kept it from running wild.

I was ashamed of what I had done to Sam during the cucking. And yet, when I’d been doing it, I’d loved it, I’d barely been able to rein myself in, the drive, the need had been overwhelming. It was like there was another Kayley, a terrifying, relentless version of me.

As bizarre as the encounter with Colin and Helen had been, that other version had been triggered, had risen up. I’d been ravenous, hungry to dominate, just barely restraining myself.

Gods, I needed to talk about this with someone. But the only person I trusted to reveal this too was also my victim.

I couldn’t talk about this with Sam.

&&&

“Honey, I’m home,” I called.

Sam looked up from the couch, where he was reading a book. He smiled.

“Welcome back,” he said, “how was the apology tour? Went late?”

I rolled my eyes, walked over and plopped myself in his lap. He wrapped warm, wonderful Sam-arms around me. I sighed heavily.

“That bad.”

“His wife was there,” I told him.

“Ouch!”

“Yeah,” I said, “there I was, stammering out this apology, and finally he says ‘this is my wife.’ He’d told her everything. She’s glaring daggers...”

“Ouch!”

“I felt like an inch tall. At that moment, I wanted the earth to open up and swallow me up.”

“Poor baby,” he kissed the top of my head. “Tell me all about it.”

“Nothing much to tell,” I said. “I felt terrible. It was awkward as fuck. But we talked, and talked and talked, and eventually worked it out.”

“They forgave you?”

“I think the important thing, was they got past it with each other,” I said. “I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if I’d fucked up their marriage.”

“You care about people,” he said. “I love that in you. That decency and compassion.”

“Yeah,” I said quietly. I didn't feel like a good person.

And here I am lying to you. Again. I thought about the cuckolding session, my runaway savagery, the insatiable cruelty that had risen up in me, and felt a wave of shame.

“Just for the record,” I said, not looking at him, “I didn’t actually have sex with either of them. Just so you know. I’m not a complete slut.”

“Hmm,” Sam went, thoughtfully, “that’s an oddly technical way of phrasing it.”

“I guess so,” I said. “Yeah.”

He didn’t push, he just waited to see where I was going to go.

“It all got complicated and really hard to explain,” I explained.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” I said.

He nodded, and shrugged.

“Okay,” he said, “I trust you.”

Oh goddamnit!

I started talking about it. I didn’t want to, but I just started. I couldn't help it, it all just came pouring out, this bewildered confession. Sam listened quietly for a while.

Then he laughed.

“Creepy little bobblehead?”

“Don’t laugh!” I complained. “Helen is really nice. I was just frustrated.”

“Tell me you didn’t say it out loud?”

“Sam!”

“Okay, okay,” he snickered.

“She really does have a nice body,” I insisted, “once you get used to it.”

“You saw her naked?”

“May I continue?”

I picked up again, and he listened with attentive care, until...

“Citrus!” he bent over laughing. “Citrus!”

“Yeah,” I chuckled. “She couldn’t seem to even pronounce it correctly.”

“And she was positive she didn’t have one?”

“I know! Right!” I said, enjoying myself. “Fucking weird-ass Christian home-schooling. Totally fucked up. Oh, and they know it too, it’s a sensitive subject for her. She got touchy. But the ignorance was so stunning...”

A little later...

“It was crazy,” I laughed. “I kept making drawing after drawing. Like, I was practically flow charting it out, trying to explain it to them. They’re going ‘oh no, that doesn’t look right at all’ I’m going ‘It’s your anatomy, how can you not recognize it!’ It was like, I was doing an entire ad hoc sex-ed class. It was like I needed puppets, visual aids.”

“At least you didn’t have to try and explain anal sex,” he said.

I doubled over laughing.

A few minutes later...

“So that’s what you meant by ‘actually’ - hate to break it to you, hon, but in forty-eight countries, that counts as sex.”

“Nuh huh,” I protested. “Not the way he did it. Sam, it was so epically bad. It was like he’d never ever done it in his life.”

“Which, from your description, is accurate.”

“That’s doesn’t even go halfway there, it was so inept.”

“But he improved.”

“Sort of,” I said, “it makes me appreciate you so much more. Truly you are a god among linguists.”

“God of cunning?”

“I think I got them to baseline, some knowledge of anatomy, what to do, but...”

A few minutes later...

“Wait, you’re telling me that she just peed. On the kitchen table. Just went. No self consciousness at all?”

“Yeah,” I said. “It was freaky. She just didn’t realize.”

“Something physical? Medical problem?”

“No,” I said, “I just don’t think she was aware she shouldn’t. It was all so new to her.”

“Naive!”

“Extremely,” I said. “It was kind of endearing in a strange way. It made me want to look after them.”

“I get why you said it wasn’t actually sex,” he offered. “It didn’t even come across as S&M. They just seem so naive and vulnerable the way you describe them. You weren’t being a Mistress so much as their spiritual spirit animal guide.”

“Ahhh,” I went. He was so empathic and understanding.

“Ghost pussy totem,” he deadpanned.

“Jerk!” I stuck my tongue out.

A few minutes later, as I explained how I kept failing to get away, he did his deadpan Al Pacino impression from the Godfather.

“She thought she was out, but they kept pulling her back in.”

“Not funny!” I hit him with a cushion. He just laughed so I kept hitting him with it.

A moment later: “So she was asking for it?” he said, “With a frigging hairbrush!”

I glanced down at the cushion in my hands.

“Not just asking: Demanding!” I said. “But it pulled it all together. It was that weird home- school, religious fruitcake, bible thumping, corporal punishment upbringing.”

He nodded.

“I’ve heard about something like that,” he said thoughtfully, “that English fetish, caning, flogging, stuff like that. All those grown men obsessed with getting whipped. Came down to being punished as boys in public schools during a formative period.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “All of a sudden, it all made sense. The whole weird scene. I think she'd been craving and didn't even know it. Then suddenly, I drop into their laps.”

“Colin too?”

“I’m not sure, I think maybe. Some. But definitely her.”

“Well, well, well,” he said, “so my love is started on her career as a professional dominatrix. I’m so proud. Some day, I’ll be able to point and say, ‘I knew her when I was just a lowly cuck!”

“Stop!” I giggled and shoved him.

“Once it starts...”

“Oh you wish!”

“Seriously,” he pulled me to him, “how do you feel about it?”

“Weird,” I said thoughtfully. “Almost surreal, like an out of body experience. Part of me all the way through is going ‘is this really happening?’ It was hard to get a handle on it. It just kept throwing me. I had conflicting urges. Part of me really wanted to dominate the fuck out of them, I mean crush them. But I started off feeling bad and guilty for using them, and I kept wanting to take care of them. I remember going back and forth from one state to the other. I feel okay, though, I guess.”

He kissed my forehead.

“You know what I think?” he said.

“What?”

“I think you are a caring decent person, and you encountered a pair of confused, vulnerable people, and you looked after them, you took care of them, and you guided them and taught them, and left them better off. After a life of ignorance, and a year of bad sex, you rescued them. I think you are a good person, and that’s why I love you.”

“You do remember the cuck session, right?” I asked. He winced, and I knew right away I’d stepped wrong. I’m so sorry, I thought, but shame choked the words back. I wasn't sure that I was a good person after all, I tried, but I'd met my dark side and liked her way too much.

“Any thoughts,” he asked. “Things you regretted? Things you missed? You going to keep doing it?”

I thought about it.

“Colin’s ass,” I said reflectively. “It was just such a perfect boy-ass! Almost as good as yours. I so wanted to bite into it and leave teeth marks.”

I paused.

“Helen’s gumdrop nipples. They were just crazy sensitive, and I kept wanting to play with them. Suckle them. They were irresistible. But I didn’t spend nearly enough time. I have this idea, that I could maybe make her come, just by teasing her nipples.”

I shrugged.

“I don’t think it’ll be a thing though. I don’t think I want it. And I don’t think they really need me. I think that for the next while, they’re going to go nuts with oral sex and real orgasms and learning to actually fuck. They’ll forget all about me. I don’t mind. Life is too complicated already.”

I swallowed.

“This wasn’t so bad,” I said. “I had no idea how I was going to tell you about it... but...”

He hugged me a little tighter.

“You know we can talk about anything, babe,” he told me.

“Yeah,” I said quietly.

Except we weren’t. Or more accurately, I wasn’t. I was keeping things from him. I needed to talk about my solo encounters with Leroy. About my trips to the booths. We needed to talk about the cuck session, I’d gone way too far and hurt him, I needed to address that.

But we’d talked about this, and it hadn’t been so bad. Maybe it was time to open up, before it got too deep.

I licked my lips, trying to prepare the words, figure out how to say the things I needed to say before my courage failed me. I took a deep breath. Confession time.

My phone beeped. I jumped in his arms. We looked at each other.

“Maybe it’s them,” he laughed.

I dug it out of my purse, and glanced at it.

“Oh Jesus Christ!” I swore and tried to drop it back in.

But Sam was too quick. He grabbed it and held it up, laughing his ass off. I’d just been texted a photo - Helen and Colin, grinning like hyperactive kids, suspiciously bare shoulders on both of them. Caption “Miss Kayley’s Newest Sex Slaves!”

“Oh this is precious!” He laughed. “Yeah, they’re going to forget all about you and move on. It’s totally over.”

“You bastard,” I mock-swore at him, “give that back.”

“It’s like baby ducks, you know,” he said. “Sometimes they’ll imprint on a human and think it’s their mother, and they’ll follow around in a little row. I’ve seen it on youtube. It’s the cutest thing. They’ve imprinted on you.”

“They have not!”

“Nope. You're their mother-duck now. Totally imprinted."

He paused.

"This is a disappointing picture,” he said. “You should text them back a failing grade, kick them out of sex-slave academy, tell them they blew it. I’m sure they’ll take it well. Tell you what, I'll text them, and tell them.”

“Sam!” I laughed, clawing for the phone, “No! You’re so cruel!”

“Yeah,” he said, holding it out of my reach, “you’re right. The deserve another chance. Hold on, I’ll send them a text for you.”

“Nooooooo!!!!”

“Here, let’s see: ‘Disappointed w pic. Kno U can do better!’ Now.... Send.”

I grabbed the phone away, and we wrestled around, until I got on top and started kissing him, laughing all the while.

“You’re a madman!” I told him. “I can’t believe you did that. You’re horrible!”

My phone beeped again. We looked at each other.

“You are in so much trouble, Mister!”

I grabbed the phone, and cuddled up against him, as we looked.

Helen and Colin, again, full nude top to bottom, still grinning like rednecks inheriting a strip club.

“Your fault!” I said.

Sam nodded.

“I see what you mean by bobblehead,” he said.

“Sam!” I cried in mock-outrage, “What a terrible thing to say!”

“Hey,” he replied, “I didn’t say creepy little bobblehead. You said that.”

“I didn’t say that!” I said, “I thought it. I never once said it out loud! And I was being an asshole! She's sweet! And pretty!”

“You said it to me,” he replied, “and I record all our conversations. For a small gratuity, they’ll never have to know what you really thought of them.”

“Liar!” I cried. “And anyway, I unplugged the recording equipment.”

“Back up batteries! And uploaded to the cloud!”

“Ha! I rearranged all your icon! It all went into the recycling folder!”

“Ah,” he said. “You got me. Foiled again.”

He paused.

“I suppose this is a bad time to confess my profound sexual attraction to bobbleheads,” he said. “Especially the creepy ones.”

To emphasize it, he tapped out a row of heart emojis to them.

“You are so evil!” I laughed, kissing him. “You leave them alone. I had enough trouble fixing their marriage. I’m not going to let you go wrecking it like a bull in a china shop.”

“They do seem like a sweet couple though,” he said, studying the picture, “you can tell they’re in love.”

I took the phone and swiped back to the previous picture.

“They are. I think that was why I was so patient with them. They remind me of us, you know. More innocent, more naive, not nearly as fortunate as we were, they didn’t get the opportunities we had. They got shitty home-schooling by religious creeps, and toxic families, and crappy jobs. But when I look at them, I see a bit of you and me. When you get to know them, there’s a sweetness to them.”

“I’m glad they found you,” he said, “even if you do seem to have acquired a couple of sex slaves.”

“Oh god!” I rolled my eyes. “You’re not going to let it go.”

“Give up something like this,” he laughed. “Not a chance.”

“Evil,” I sniffed. “You are so evil.”

The phone beeped again, a new picture appeared.

“Oh my god!” My eyes bulged. I covered my mouth with both hands, then my entire face. It wasn’t enough, I jumped up off the couch, turning way.

Sam picked up the phone and looked. “Wow! I guess you went easy on me after all.”

“I did not do that!” I swore. “That’s not me!”

The had sent a backside shot. They must have used a timer. Both of them had huge livid purple and black bruises all over their butts.

“You must have been really whaling!” Sam said, sounding impressed. “That’s ER levels of bruising. Wow!

“I swear!” I said. “That’s not mine. I didn’t do that. I just got them a little red, that’s all. Oh my god! Oh my god! What did I do?”

“Kayley,” Sam called, he wrestled me back to the couch. “Kayley, come here, take a look. Another look.”

“No!” I covered my eyes.

“Just a peak. I want you to look again, I’ll hold you, it’ll be okay. Don’t look at the bruises. Look at the top of the picture.”

“Don’t wanna!” But I peaked with one eye through the gap between two fingers.

“See their heads?” he asked. “See how they’re turned to each other. What are they doing?”

He waited.

“Kissing?”

I noticed he’d sent them a row of heart emojis. That would only encourage them.

“Yes, they’re kissing. They’re happy. You can see how happy they are. They sent you three pictures, probably happier than they’ve ever been in their lives. They sent the pictures, because that’s what you did for them. They don’t mind the bruises at all.”

“But...”

“It’s probably not as bad as it looks. Lighting can make things ten times worse. Maybe they used make-up. Who knows. You did something good. Don’t be ashamed.”

“It’s just...”

“I know,” he said. He swiped it away, back to the full body nudes, because he’s a man, and men are pervs. And he might have actually been telling the truth about a sexual attraction to bobbleheads. I’d suspected it for a while, actually.

I relaxed against him.

“I know,” I said miserably. “Life is just already complicated, you know?”

“I know,” he said. “Don’t worry, it will work out.”

He paused.

“I’m glad they met you, instead of someone really nasty.”

“Yeah,” I had a thought. “Let’s make sure we don’t introduce them to Leroy.”

He shuddered. “For sure, a guy like Leroy would eat them alive. They wouldn’t be able to handle him.”

“Not like us,” I agreed. “No way. They wouldn’t have a chance.”

I turned around in his arms, looking at him, then at the image on the phone.

“They are pretty hot,” I said, “I’ll thank them later for the pics. And say nice things.”

“That would be polite.”

“So....” I said speculatively. “Sexual attraction to bobbleheads, huh?”

“It’s good to finally confess,” he said, “It’s been weighing on me.”

“You know,” I said thoughtfully, I put my finger to my bottom lip and pulled it down.

“What are you doing?” he asked, confused.

Scratch that sexy gesture. “Nothing."

I paused and smiled.

"Anyway, I don’t know if I ever mentioned it, but I bobble my head pretty good.”

“Really?” His brows lifted.

“Oh yeah,” I said. “In high school, Captain of the Head Bobbling team. Went all the way to regionals. I even made the Olympic Head Bobbling tryouts.”

“Oh my, tell me more.”

“I think this is the sort of conversation we should have in the bedroom, don’t you?”

“Totally agree!”

“Lead the way.”

Behind us, the phone beeped again and again and again.

But I didn’t care. My head was bobbling.