It was a day much like any other.
Robert had come to her that evening, made her beg for him, and fucked her until she was pleasantly sore.
Afterward, as she lay dazed in a cloud of afterglow, he told her that they would be having a guest this weekend.
"Topher or Elaine?" she'd replied. Those were their two most frequent playmates.
"Neither. She's someone new."
"What's her name?"
"You'll never guess."
"Mistress Dominique?" she came back, playfully.
He chuckled. "No, kitten, she's not 'Mistress' anything. She's a sub, like you."
Cindy was quiet. "Really?" There'd never been another submissive before, just a long list of people who would use her mouth and cunt and ass as they wished.
"Where did you ... where is she from?"
"She lives here in town. Topher met her in an internet chatroom and figured I was right up her alley. She emailed me a picture. I think she sounds like fun." He grinned lasciviously. "Do you have plans Sunday night?"
She smiled into his eyes. "Yes, I plan on making you a wonderful dinner before you take her."
"That too." She kissed him.
Sunday night came soon enough, and as Robert finished the t-bone steak and Cindy's special garlic mashed potatoes, she started to clean up. She was already wearing her slutwear: black satin bra, gartered stockings, and naughty panties. Post-dishwashing, she added black elbow-length gloves and a soft, golden evening gown. The doorbell rang while she was in the bedroom getting changed, and she heard her lover answer it.
She wasn't supposed to go out, yet: he'd told her he wanted some time alone with this new woman before they should meet. Nonetheless, Cindy knew her own house quite well, and knew where she could listen in on the goings-on without being noticed. She headed to the downstairs lavatory, which was a single, thin wall away from the sitting room.
"You certainly look as lovely as your picture."
"Thank you." The blush accompanying the words was almost audible.
"Tell me, what do you do?"
"I serve, master."
A chuckle. "I know that, silly, I mean what do you do for work?"
"I ... work in an office. In media consulting. It's not important, master."
"True, but I was just making conversation. All right, then. I can see from your nipples that the time for small talk is over. Stand over there and display yourself for me. Slowly."
A swishing sound accompanied some motion by the new girl, and Robert commented, "Nice."
"Do you like my tits, master? Doubtless you have seen better."
"They are acceptable. But they are not your tits, slave. They are your fucktits. Aren't they?"
"Yes, master. They're my fucktits. And they belong to you."
"If I want them, yes. Turn around." There was a pause, and a clatter of high-heels on the tile. "Tight ass. You must work out. Bend over and hike up your skirt. Ah, good, you wore something demure, as I suggested. Those panties are very pretty, if a bit concealing, but we won't let that persist, now, will we?"
"No, master. Should I remove them for you?"
"Not just yet, slave. Tell me: does your husband know how much of a demented little fuckslut you are?"
"N-n-no, master. He doesn't know."
"Where the hell does he think you are?"
"At my friend Susan's house. He's out of town and won't be back until Monday."
"What would he think if he found you here, worshipping my cock like you will be soon?"
There was a barely perceptible instant which Cindy just knew was a shiver of delight and terror. It's how she would have reacted to the question.
"He would be disgusted with me. Ashamed. I can't believe I'm doing this. I feel so out of control."
"Not surprising. And how do you feel about that?"
There was happy agony in her voice. "Horny, master. This fuckslut wants to worship your cock."
"Soon enough. Get the rest of your dress off. You're wearing too much. Leave the heels and gloves on. And ... okay ... the panties and stockings."
Cindy looked down at her own heels and gloves, and wondered exactly what the other woman was wearing.
"Much better. Now come here."
"What is it that you want, you little slut? I can see from the thin material between your fuckwhore legs that you're already wet. What is it, exactly, that you want done to you?"
"Whatever you want to do to me, master. I feel so helpless."
"Hmmm ... an okay answer, but pretty lame. Do you want me to take your ass? Or to tie you up and pluck your pubic hairs out one by one? Or maybe fuck your mouth? Oh, I realize that we'll do all of these things, but which one would you prefer? I'm a kind slave-driver. I might just give you your choice."
Cindy heard a gulp. "In my ... in my mouth, master. Please, let me taste your cock."
Cindy was getting sympathetically wet. She knew well what her master's cock tasted like, and what it felt like when he came all over her tongue.
"An excellent choice! I'm a big fan of fellatio. Well, you should start by assuming the position--" He hissed angrily. "Ah! Ah! Did I tell you that you could touch my cock, bitch?"
"No, master, I just thought--"
"Yes, I can tell you did. Hands at your sides. You didn't let me finish."
"I'm so sorry, master."
"You should be. I'll kick your ass out on the street in your underwear if you don't stop jumping ahead in the game. Now quiet. You're in the position, now, but something's missing ... You know, I prefer to fuck pussies. Mouths are great and all, but something's missing, somehow. When you pull your cock out and there's that wonderful aroma of bitch in heat ... and a girl's throat doesn't wrap itself around you like a glove and squeeze uncontrollably in orgasm, does it?"
"I will fuck your mouth, but only if it smells like pussy, as all good holes should. Do you understand me?"
"I ... I think so, master."
There was a silent moment, with some fumbling and a wet sound.
"Stop that! Did I say you could finger yourself? Oh, I see. I admire your creativity, what with the smearing pussy on your lips and all. But it's not what I had in mind. Cindy?"
Cindy stopped eavesdropping and walked out at the same time as she heard the other woman inquire, "Yes, master?"
"Ha. Oops. My mistake. Cindy," he said as he saw the gold of her dress, "I'd like you to meet Cindy." He indicated the kneeling blonde. She was an older woman, about thirty-five years or so, and a portrait of creamy complexion, with elegant aristocratic features that seemed misplaced on a cowering, mostly naked whore with moisture smeared atop her lipstick. Her black panties had a pretty pink fringe on them, and covered a black garter belt; the ensemble was completed by matching pink pumps and long gloves. The panties were obviously damp.
"Cindy," he said to the new slavegirl, "this is my other slut, Cindy. You don't really look too much alike, but I'm sure you've got quite a lot else in common."
"Um ... hello."
"Hello. Welcome to my home."
"Your home? But I thought it was Master's--"
"She shares everything with me, don't you, my pet?"
"Whatever is mine, I give you, Robert."
"I know, dear. Well, I need something right now."
"Very good. Cindy, here ... the other Cindy? The blonde Cindy? I don't know how to refer to you two! Calling you 'fuckslut Cindy' and 'cuntwhore Cindy' would be too confusing for me-- I'd still get you mixed up. I'll figure it all out later, but at any rate, she's in dire need of tasting my cock and her mouth is not cunty enough for me yet. I need you to smear your twat on her face for ... oh, a good half hour or so. Do you think you can do that for me, kitten?"
"I think so, darling. Does she ... um ... know what she's doing?"
"A good question. Slave, have you ever eaten pussy before."
"No, I-- No, master."
"I ... don't know."
"A damn shame. Every girl should, from time to time. Women are delicious. As you'll soon find out. Go over to her right now," he pointed toward the younger girl, "on your knees, and ask her nicely if you can please use her pussy to make your mouth smell better."
The kneeling woman slid across the tile, the slick sheen of her nylons making it less clumsy than it should have been. She looked up at her younger, brunette namesake and, with a trembling lip, mumbled, "May I please use your pussy to make my mouth smell better?"
Before the standing woman could say anything, Robert cut in, annoyed. "That wasn't very impressive. One might get the impression you didn't really want to do this-- to make your mouth worthy of my cock. Is that the case?"
"No, master. I-- no."
"Then ask nicely if she will please help make you into a cuntmouthed slut."
"Please ... um, can you help make me into a cuntmouthed slut?"
"Please, I need to have your cunt on my face so I can be worthy of my master's cock. May I eat your pussy? Please? I know i've never done it before, but I'm a fast learner, and I know I can make you come!"
A slight inclination of Robert's head indicated that this could proceed-- and not a second too soon, as far as the brunette slave was concerned. She hiked up her golden dress, exposing her soaked, crotchless panties to the other woman's gaze even as she braced herself against the couch to remain standing.
.... There is more of this story ...