Chapter 8: Evening before the competition

Coach Wagner, recent college graduate, age 22

Cindy Spanner, 37, Peaches, Akita: Stacey 16 Partner is Charger

Mary Johnson, 35, Cricket, Water Spaniel: Megan 15 Partner is Pounder

Kathy Woods, 34, Baby Girl, Yellow Retriever: Angie 14 Partner is Caesar

Barbara Lane, 34, Foofu, Border Terrier: Zoe 14 Partner is Hammer

Maggie Hart, 33, Coco, Irish Setter: Karen, 14 Partner is Rocket

Ida Carter, 34, live in girlfriend

Helen Carter, 14, daughter

Bill Woods, 35, husband

It was the evening before the Mid-Autumn Festival and here we were at the Intercourse High School gym, listening to a speech from Coach Wagner. This was our ‘coming out’, so to speak, our presentation to the town of Intercourse before the great competition tomorrow, and boy, were they interested! It had been decided to hold the rally here because the gym could hold a lot of people, and even so it was standing room only.

Of course, so many people knew about the competition that it was bound to attract cranks: in front of the school, blocking the entrance to the parking lots, were the anti-degradation feminists, the ADF, protesting this evening’s event. The past several weeks they’ve been protesting around the county telling anybody who’d listen that women weren’t dogs and should not be trained to act and behave as dogs. I’d tried to ignore it, but it made me so angry: I’d like to tell them that I’d volunteered for this competition and there was no place I’d rather be than on my hands and knees pleasing my Mistress. I just hoped those bitches wouldn’t be allowed at the competition tomorrow, if they were, I’d bark and try to bite them.

The Mistresses had dropped us off in the girl’s locker rooms a couple of minutes before and had gone to the cafeteria to relax, leaving us in our dog cages with our muzzles attached around our heads in the training room. We were just as nervous as they were, but that didn’t seem to matter to them. The five male dogs were free to roam around the room but more often than not they came over to sniff us, especially our rear-ends, their cocks hanging heavily beneath their loins, dripping gobbets of pre-cum on the tiled floor. I don’t know if it was something to do with the scent of anticipation coming from our cunts, but they could tell that something was up and were frustrated that they couldn’t get at us.

We were nervous and strangely excited about being presented in front of all those people, and so were our mistresses, although they didn’t seem to show it in the same way. As I crouched in my cage I thought how unthinkable all of this would have been two months ago, and yet now, despite my nerves, I felt that I had come to accept who I was and what I was doing, and I think the others had too, even poor Barb. Of course, that was partly due to the eight weeks training, but things had changed so much for me in recent weeks: I had learned what it really meant to obey, to accept my role as Mistress Angie’s bitch, and it had been her, my mistress, my lover, the owner of my anus, who had really taught me. At her feet I had learned about love and obedience, that pleasure and pain are often the same thing, and that being totally controlled allowed me to be horny without responsibility and shame. More than that: I discovered that humiliation and degradation, rather than hurting me, turned me the fuck on!

Of course it wasn’t as straightforward as that. There was still a lot of the old Kathy Woods fizzing around in my head telling me that what I was doing was wrong, that I should be ashamed, that I should draw a line and set a better example as a wife and a mother, but whenever Angie told me to lick her cunt, whenever she slapped my tits with the flexible ruler or whispered filth into my ear as she raped my anus, I knew that she was my mistress and that I, as her pet, was absolved of any shame.

And of course over the last six weeks, I had done a lot that the old me would have been very ashamed of.

As I watched Mistress with the girls, I realised that she was getting quite mature for her age and felt a sudden surge of pride. Of course this competition had something to do with it but she also showed a wisdom not expected from a teen: despite her jealousy of sharing me, she was willing to see things my way, and what is more, she realised that she could trust me that whatever I did, it would not interfere with my training.

One night, shortly after Ida and Helen started coming over to the house during the second week of training, Mistress and I came to an agreement. It was during one of my good girl punishments that Mistress had a change of heart.

We had started our third week of training and I was standing in the middle of the room holding her strap-on over my head as she caned my ass cheeks. She was on the stroke of ten and my arms were getting tired, my ass cheeks were on fire and I had tears in my eyes from the sting of Miss Riding Crop: out of the punishment implements on the night stand why did I pick Miss Riding Crop?

In between strokes, Mistress scolded me because I had shown affection, not only to Ida but also Helen. I knew she was upset and it made me feel very loving towards her to think she might be jealous, but it seemed unfair that she was taking it out on me.

“Baby Girl meant nothing by it, Mistress,” I said as she struck my left cheek with Miss Riding Crop. “Eleven Mistress.”

“You belong to me, motherfucker,” Mistress replied as she walked around me.

“Yes, mistress, but I am an adult woman who can multi-task at pleasing multiple people.”

SMACK, “Twelve, mistress.”

She ran her hand around my ass cheek. I decided to try something else.

“Motherfucker thinks Mistress is jealous.” Christ now I sound like a high school kid.

SMACK, “Thirteen mistress”

Mistress came around the front of me, reached out and slapped my face with her right hand. The blow stung so much that it brought tears to the corner of my eyes. She looked at me intently, then swung the riding crop several times, making it swish through the air.

“Fuck, mom, fuck!” was all she said. She turned away then turned and looked at me again. My arms were getting tired holding up her strap-on, but I looked up and met her gaze.

Mistress nodded. “Yes, mom, I’m jealous. Gawd damn it, you belong to me. You’re my pet, my plaything. I own you: fuck the team owns you!” she said in frustration.

I responded quickly without thinking. “Mother knows you own her and that she is your pet and plaything, but when she doesn’t have the attention of mistress’s sexual desires, she wants to avail herself of other possible outlets for her needs.” There I said it. It’s out in the open now.

There was a pause before she spoke. “You know I can just put the clamp back on you so that I control your needs?”

“Mother understands and she knows that Mistress will do what she thinks best for her.”

Angie paused again and when she looked back at me, her eyes had softened. She nodded her head. “This training has changed us both hasn’t it mother?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Kiss Miss Riding Crop and put her back on the night stand.”

I quickly did what she asked and stood in front of her. “Secure my strap-on around my waist, then get it nice and wet with your mouth,” she said with her hands on her hips.

As I knelt in front of mistress with my head bobbing back and forth on the dildo, she said, “You have my permission to explore your other desires. It should not interfere with your training, unless it is a part of your training. Just remember, you answer to me and nobody else, understood?”

“Hmmm, yes, Mistress!” I mouthed on the dildo. My heart jumped a couple of beats and I got a tingly sensation in my stomach.

Shortly after that I was on my stomach on the bed with a ball gag in my mouth as mistress had the dildo seated firmly in my anus. She had begun by fucking me hard and deep, almost savagely, as if she wanted to show me just how much she owned me. My ring had burned agonisingly as it stretched to accommodate her thrusts, but the pain made my cunt wet, knowing that I was feeling my Mistress’s love. Now, she was slowly pumping my ass, cooing and moaning in my ear as the clit massager on the strap-on worked her clit, while her hands held my wrists in front of me. She came softly and slid out of me, collapsing onto the bed and then lay there smiling up at me. I was hoping that she would fuck me now.

“Clean your dildo,” she commanded.

I looked down at the phallus bobbing obscenely from her crotch: even in the dim light I could see that it was coated with a discoloured sheen. I looked back up at her.

“Does Mistress mean... ?” I stammered.

“You know very well what I mean, motherfucker!” she snapped, and then her voice softened. “I have given you the freedom to explore your needs, I need to know that you won’t get carried away, but will still obey me without question.” She paused. “Besides, you like drinking my pee, this can’t be that different.”

And she was right. As I took the dildo into my mouth and cleaned it, my ass slime tasted bitter, earthy, and the very perversion of what I was doing made my cunt gush.

She leaned forward and I felt her fingers running gently around the ring of my still gaping asshole. “I love my anus,” she said. “Just remember when you are playing your dirty games, that it’s mine and only mine.”

“Motherfucker will remember, Mistress.”

Several days after that fateful day, mistress requires me to be in uniform when she got home which means that Ida and Helen now see me in my uniform. When I pointed this out to mistress she replied that I had better be enthusiastic then because I would have to be the same way on competition day. The third week of training was tightening up and I felt as if I was going deeper into the training regimen with no way out. Thing was, did I want out? I craved the humiliation with Ida and although she pissed me off, I couldn’t resist it.

“So Ida and Helen will be part of my training like Julie and Kayla, Mistress?” I asked as I raised my head from between her ass cheeks.

“Hmmm, yes, motherfucker,” purred Mistress. She reached around to put her right hand behind my head and push my face into her anus again. “No more silly questions. I want your tongue right in there, cleaning me out.”

I didn’t think it was a silly question, I mean I have to know who has the rights to be part of my training. But more than that, perhaps the answer helped me resolve the turmoil of Ida in my head: if me humiliating myself in front of her was part of my training, then I could hardly be blamed for being turned on by it, nor should I be guilty about it.

As a result of her answer, the daily pattern of my life developed into a prolonged period of sex and perversion.

I was free to explore my desires and I thought that would be easy, but you know what really bothered me the last six weeks? What caused me most psychological turmoil: it was my behavior in front of Ida fucking Carter.

When I first found out that Ida was fucking Bill, I could cheerfully have killed her: not only was my pride hurt, but I felt humiliated, by Bill’s betrayal, and Ida’s smug delight at parading her new mistress-status in front of me. But now I had Mistress Angie, and my training had kicked in, and I found that my reaction to Ida’s humiliation excited me and turned me on so much that I was impatient for her visits and craved her demeaning treatment. I just couldn’t help myself. I was like a drug addict, I needed the fix, but just like an addict, I felt miserable when I came down off my high.

Several days after Ida had me first remove her thong and Helen had me remove her panties in the living room, they were back. Ida had picked her daughter up from school and was stopping by the house. Both mother and daughter were surprised when I answered the door because I was nude. Ida stood there in the hallway with Helen standing next to her, both of them staring at me and me averting my eyes.

“Well?” she asked as she put her hands on her hips.

“Well what?” I replied, my heart pounding.

“Miss Ida,” Ida said.

“Well what, Miss Ida?” I repeated. My cunt suddenly got really moist.

“My thong is dirty, remove it and wash it, like the other day” she ordered. Beside her, Helen giggled.

I could have told her to fuck herself or even walk away from her, but I didn’t because the humiliation excited me so much. I looked at her and she raised her eyebrow and my heart skipped a beat. I needed that fix I told myself. I nodded my head and knelt down in front of her.

“Don’t wrinkle my skirt,” was all she said looking down at me.

“Yes Miss Ida,” I replied. I carefully put my head under her skirt which came to mid-thigh on her. Then I brought my hands up to her waist, gently resting my right cheek on the inside of her left thigh and carefully pulled down her thong. I could smell the ambrosia of sperm from her warm, moist cunt and I wondered if it was Bill’s: something perverted inside me hoped it was.

I got her thong half-way down her thighs when I felt her hand through the fabric of the skirt on the back of my head. She gently pushed my head towards her cunt. I knew what she wanted. Her breathing was heavy. My heart was racing and if I rubbed my thighs together there would have been a squishy sound. I gave her clit a kiss.

“See that wasn’t so hard was it, Baby Girl,” she said huskily. “Do you recognise the taste?”

Under her skirt, I moaned.

“It’s Bill.” Her voice was like treacle. “I met him for lunch and he filled me up, you know how much cum he can pump out.” I thought for a moment about Caesar, but pushed the thought to the back of my mind. “Stick your tongue in there, Baby Girl, get a good taste of your husband’s fuck juice.”

She squatted slightly and I moved against her, pushing my tongue into her cunt, and felt thick juices flow over it and into my mouth. The flavour seemed to explode against my taste buds and I moaned again as I swished it around my mouth and then swallowed it.

“There’s a good girl,” Ida continued. “I’ll tell Bill and perhaps we’ll make you another cum cocktail tonight. Perhaps if Angie doesn’t need you, we’ll let you watch,” she added mockingly. “Now see to my thong.”

She removed her hand from the back of my head but I voluntarily kissed her clit again, then quickly pulled down her thong to her ankles. I removed my head from under her skirt but didn’t look up at her: I knew that my face was burning red, and my mouth coated with her slime. I waited for her to raise her foot so I could remove the thong and out of the corner of my eye saw Helen staring at me, her hand out of sight under her skirt. Fuck I was ashamed of what I just did, but I needed it. I felt so, what’s the word, complete? All my training, to obey, to submit completely, brought rewards that I had never dreamed of.

“Look at me Baby Girl,” Ida ordered.

I lifted my eyes to her but my left hand remained on the thong.

“You see Helen, Baby Girl, knows her place, you just have to show her,” Ida smirked, then lifted her foot so I could remove the thong. Yes, the training I had been through had put me in this position.

“Take my panties off too, Baby Girl,” Helen asked with a serious tone of voice.

“Yes Miss Helen,” I replied with a red face.

I reached under her dress and slid my fingers under the band of her panties. Her skin was smooth and warm and I let my fingers rub against it as I gently pulled them down. Copying her mother, she didn’t raise her foot, but put her hand behind my head and pushed me forward towards her crotch.

“That’s it sweetie,” Ida said with a heavy, aroused voice. “Show Baby Girl what you want.”

It is so hard to describe how much my new, enhanced sense of smell can reveal, but now every new scent tends to paint a picture. At this moment, I was surrounded by the smell of cunt: my own, mature, rich, urgent; Ida’s, soiled and perverted; and mostly and so deliciously to my nose, Helen’s, fresh, pure, rich in teen curiosity.

I didn’t hesitate to kiss her slit, her smooth-as-silk cunt, and even when she took her hand off my head, carried on kissing it, rubbing my tongue over the tiny swelling of her clit and pushing between her wet, fragrant lips.

“Damn, his feels good,” she hissed. I didn’t look up at Helen but continued to pleasure her cunt with my mouth.

“I know honey. Maybe we can get Baby Girl to do this all the time.” There was an obvious excitement in her voice, and I wondered if she was fingering herself as she watched us, but I didn’t bother to look. Helen was squatting now, opening her cunt to my tongue and pushing herself harder against my lips, and I could hear her panting softly.

Ida spoke again and it took a moment for me to take in what she said. “Come with me Baby Girl to my new bedroom so that we can ... talk things over.”

I felt a sudden anger that she was interrupting me so selfishly and thought of how I would protest, but Helen beat me to it.

“Oh mom,” she panted, half in anguish, half because of my thrusting tongue, “don’t make Baby Girl stop now! Her tongue feels so good. Please don’t make her stop!”

There was a pause. “Okay, sweetie,” Ida said at last, “you have a nice cum and I’ll talk to Baby Girl afterwards.”

I worked her cunt harder after that, raking my tongue across the tiny clit and fucking the sweet cunt with my tongue until her body began to tremble and her hands pulled viciously on my head, pulling me tighter against her as she came. I opened my mouth wide and felt her cum flow over my tongue, sharp and creamy and fresh, knowing that as it did so, my own flooding cunt betrayed me to the watching eyes of Ida.

Eventually, I felt Helen relax and her grip on my head soften, and she stood up straight, stepping out of her forgotten thong. She walked over to the couch and plopped down, sitting carelessly with her legs spread wide apart.

“Do you like licking cunts?” Ida said, her voice taunting me.

I swallowed. “Yes, Miss Ida,” I whispered, looking down at the ground. The delicious taste of Helen’s fresh cunt cream still filled my mouth.

“I want to talk to you upstairs,” she commanded, “in my room.”

“Yes, Miss Ida,” I replied as I stood up, still averting my eyes. The emphasis she put on the word “my” hurt me. Although whatever she had planned for me upstairs wasn’t going to be good, I was beginning to crave the humiliation.

She looked over at her daughter still splayed out on the couch and said, “Helen, sweetie, you watch TV for a little. Baby Girl and I need to talk things over,” before starting towards the stairs.

“Okay,” Helen replied and then she looked at me. “Can we do this again later Baby Girl?”

I turned and smiled at her and she smiled at me, and then I followed her mother upstairs.

In the bedroom Ida sat down on the bed on what used to be my side. She stretched out with her right leg straight out and her left leg bent, which exposed her cunt and anus and she was idly running a finger up and down her glistening slit.

“Lick me Baby Girl, I need tension relief,” she said, tapping the bed beside her.

I nodded and lay on the bed. Mistress had given me permission to explore my desires and boy was I going too. I nestled my head on her right thigh as I moved my mouth closer to her cunt and anus, and I started to kiss, lick and slobber on her cunt.

“Hmmm, Baby Girl, that’s nice,” Ida cooed. “I never realised what a filthy bitch you are. Watching you tongue fucking my daughter, your slime running down your thighs, and now it feels like you can’t get enough of my cunt.” She gave a smug laugh. “This is the way it’s going to be. If you’re not training and Angie doesn’t have plans for you, I want you here between my legs worshipping my cunt and ass.”

“Yes, Miss Ida,” I hummed as I sucked her clit.

“I’m sure Bill would love to have his cock sucked again as well. I will have to have a word with Angie about that. That’s something I don’t like to do, but I’m sure your mouth could take its rightful place on his cock?”

“Yes, Miss Ida.”

She thought for a moment. “Perhaps if you’re very lucky, we might let you watch us fuck. I might even let you clean us up afterwards.”

“Yes, Miss Ida.” I licked, sucked, and kissed her cunt to orgasm, my jaw was sore.

Bill and Ida asked Mistress if they could use me in their sex games, as they put it. Mistress asked me if I was sure if this was what I wanted. ‘Oh fuck yes’, I replied.

The very first time they brought me into the bedroom, Bill had me on my hands and knees, naked. Ida lay down on my back, her back on my back, the back of her head resting on the back of my head. She pulled her knees back and Bill knelt behind us. He fucked Ida while I held her up. It was humiliating to feel Bill push and pull on Ida’s cunt, knowing that I was complicit in his adultery.

Other times, Ida lay on my back with her tits mashed against me. She would reach under me and squeeze and pull my nipples as Bill fucked her cunt and ass. I would clean is cock with my mouth after he came, I would clean Ida’s cunt and ass of his cum. It was glorious and wonderful.

Then one evening at dinner time Ida played her next humiliation card. Dinner times had become fun since Helen had arrived: I would eat from my bowl but sometimes Helen would feed me from her hand. Other times, I would be in the sitting position next to her at the table and watch her eat. Mistress loved that. Mistress, Bill, Ida, and Helen would feed me table scraps from their hand. However, this particular evening, mistress was not home.

“Baby Girl,” Ida said suddenly, “when you have finished eating, I want you to go upstairs and sit outside my bedroom and wait for me.”

I looked up at her, trying to read her meaning, but her expression was like a stone. “Is that clear?”

“Yes, Miss Ida.”

I sat upstairs for half an hour waiting until eventually I heard her and Bill coming up the stairs. They ignored me as they walked past and into the bedroom, shutting the door behind them. I waited for what seemed like half an hour, listening to their muffled giggles and then moans, until Ida opened the door. She was red faced and naked except for a pair of stockings, and I didn’t need my new enhanced sense of smell to tell me she was excited: the evidence was glistening on the insides of her thighs. She held my leash in her hand and attached it to my collar, leading me into the bedroom.

Bill was sitting on the bed, also naked, stroking his hard cock and smiling at me. I licked my lips: when the girls removed our clit massagers late in the third week, I wanted sex, dirty sex, more sex in my life and if getting to Bill’s cock meant I had to go through Ida then so be it. I wanted Bill, if for nothing more than familiarity and the memory of those days when my sex life was normal.

“I want you to suck him off,” Ida commanded. “It’s not something I care to do myself. And then I thought, we have you.” She broke into laughter, pleased with her own cleverness. “And I will expect you to swallow!”

It felt wonderful to have Bill’s cock in my mouth again, even though it carried the taste of Ida’s cunt, and as I took it into my throat and heard him moan, it was just like the old times. Ida held my leash and as soon as Bill had pumped his seed into my mouth, she pulled me away and off the bed.

“Open!” she said, and I opened my mouth to show that I had swallowed Bill’s spunk. “Good dog, Baby Girl. If you behave yourself, then perhaps we will let you join in some of our games, but there will be no fucking you of course.” She paused. “Do you understand?”

“Yes Miss Ida.”

And so a pattern developed. On some evenings when Bill got home I would be in his room sucking his cock while Ida waited for him to put it in her cunt. He would pull out of her cunt and put his cock in my mouth then back to her cunt. I always had to be in uniform as Ida held my leash. If Bill came in her ass then Ida would squat over my face and push the spunk into my mouth. Fuck, what a nasty bitch I was turning out to be.

Bill couldn’t fuck me without mistress’s permission of course, but that didn’t matter, I was part of their sex games now. At night I would relive the fucking with mistress, telling her every juicy detail. She would rub herself up and down on my thigh, timing her cums with the end of the story.

Life is good.

And then there was Helen, fourteen year-old Freshman. I should have known that I would not have avoided her in my new role when she and her mom came to the house that first time, and to be honest, I didn’t want too: I had lusted for her sweet little cunt.

It was on a Friday evening the week after mistress and I started fucking. Helen and Ida had come over a couple times during the week, but Helen had never really seen me with mistress. Mistress was sitting on the edge of her chair at her desk and I was on my hands and knees under it, licking her cunt. I had her squirming when I heard the door open and I instinctively looked towards it. I caught a glimpse of Helen holding the door knob looking in and at the same time, I felt mistress twist slightly in the chair to look over her shoulder. I pulled my head back to say something, but she put her left hand behind my head and gently pushed my face back into her dripping cunt.

“Shhh!” she admonished me.

I whined a little bit, but continued my licking, nervous about what was going to happen.

“Hi Helen, what’s wrong?” She asked.

“Oh, nothing, I was just bored and wondering what you and Baby Girl were up to.” The sound of her voice, so seemingly innocent, made my clit pulse.

“Where’s your mom?”

“Oh, she and your dad are fucking in his room.”

My clit jumped again.

“Come over and take a look.”

My heart was beating fast as I heard her walk across the room.

“Wow,” Helen exclaimed. “What is she doing?”

I could hear the smile in mistress’s voice. “She’s making me happy.”

“What do you do to make her happy?”

“Hmm,” Mistress replied as she ran her fingers through my page boy haircut. “She likes to be punished.”

‘Not true!” I screamed in my mind but I kept licking her.

“Oh, cool,” the girl replied.

“Do you want to see her?”

“Oh, yes please!”

Angie backed her chair out and I tentatively crawled out from under the desk. I had my puppy uniform on, even my tail. I averted my eyes, aware that the lower half of my face was covered in mistress’s cunt juice.

Helen seemed to look me up and down and then giggled. “Wow, cool!”

“She’s my puppy, aren’t you Baby Girl?” Mistress asked.

“ARF!”

Helen giggled again.

“Sit!”

I sat back on my heels in the proper position.

“Go ahead and touch her. She won’t bite!”

The teen angel looked at me with hesitation then looked at Angie again.

“It’s okay, touch her anywhere you want.”

Helen reached out and grabbed both my nipples and rolled them between her fingers. “I always wanted to do this,” she said huskily. I tried to hold my position as an obedient pet, but the pain and pleasure of her fingers went straight to my already wet cunt and I could smell my scent surround me.

Mistress smiled. “Well, you can do that anytime you want.”

Then Helen slapped both my tits and giggled as my tits bounced back and forth. I kept looking straight ahead.

“You can play with her if you want.”

“Okay.”

“Play Baby Girl,” Mistress ordered and I noticed Helen’s eyes got big when she said that.

I turned and playfully sniffed at her and she giggled and started to run around the room. I chased after her and although I could have easily tripped her, I followed her, sniffing at her wake instead, so that I could take in her delicious smell. Eventually, I reached my left hand out and gently tripped her, and she fell to her knees in front of me, her bottom pushed up in the air as she slumped forwards. Her skirt was pulled up and I found myself looking directly at her ass: to my delight, it was naked, she wasn’t wearing any panties. I leaned down and sniffed her, taking in the fragrance of sweat and piss and teen cunt, and even a hint of shit, then I licked her ass cheeks and ran my tongue up along her crack tasting the flavour of her tiny puckered rosebud. I pressed my tongue against the hole for a moment and then swept down to her tangy little labia. She froze and gasped, and looked over her shoulders at me.

“That feels good, Baby Girl,” she said with a wide eyed look. I looked over at mistress instinctively and saw her glaring at me.

“Baby Girl, you nasty bitch!” Mistress said as she came over and yanked on my collar. I whined and cringed, looking at her, wondering what I had done wrong. She clipped my leash on me and handed the end to Helen. “Walk her around the room,” she said, I could hear anger in her voice.

For the next ten minutes Helen ordered me to sit, stay, heel, and fetch when she tossed her shoe to the corner. Eventually, Ida called her and she sighed in disappointment, turning around and doing a little wave to me as she left the room.

Two days after that episode, Ida and Helen were standing in the living room and I was in my sitting position. Helen squatted in front of me then reached out with both hands grabbing my nipples and tweaking them making me wince. I looked down at her, her legs spread wide with child-like abandon, and gulped: her panties were pressed tightly against her plump sex, the material dampened in the middle where she seemed to have been touching herself.