Chapter 20

"How was your day, dear husband?" I asked him as he came into the house. A low gruff sound was enough to forewarn me of the bad day you had. I shook my head silently, wishing once again that you'd start looking for a new job. He threw his coat into the closet, not bothering to use a coat hanger. I followed, watching silently, as he made his way room to room, going through his evening ritual of washing up, changing outfits and grabbing a coffee.

"Get over here, slut, I need a massage -- my dogs are killing me." Obediently I went to him, knelt and removed his socks. My nose wrinkled in distaste at the smell which only brought on an evil grin from him.

"What's the matter, slut? Don't like the smell of the man who owns your ass?" I didn't dare look up at him. I wasn't about to correct him, tell him that he was co-owner of this slut. I shrugged as I began work on his feet. "Did you make your phone calls, slut?" I was wishing he'd stop calling me that, but I don't know why I felt that way.

I nodded. It'd been a hectic day for me and with my husband home now, there was surely no relief in sight. From my kneeling position on the floor, I told of my string of calls and the end results. He did look pleased and said he may even join me to watch the piercing process. I had mixed feelings about that idea, but didn't say anything. It wasn't my place. I guess if I had to have an audience, whether it be him, him and my Master, or a group of strangers, then that's what I'll have. I hated that last thought discovered I had to ask about it.

"Sir,... ?" I began hesitantly.

"Call me Lord or m'Lord, slut." Nodding, I began again.

"M'Lord, who all will be present during the piercing?"

As I switched feet, you looked at me studiously. "What concern is that of yours, slut?" I shrugged, not really knowing the answer to that question.

"Don't shrug, slut. Give me a real answer." I heard you softly groan as I worked the soreness out of the arch of your foot.

"Well, m'Lord, I'm not sure if I could withstand being exposed to too many strangers. I know I have to let the man doing the piercing look at my body -- and you and master, of course -- but, what of other onlookers? I-- I'm not sure I could handle an audience." I felt my palms get sweaty with just the thought of having an audience of nosey people watching this lady have a stranger pierce her private parts. I stopped massaging your foot as my imagination took on the scene of men leering at my spread pussy lips, or worse, at my pointed breasts as the employee teased them to attention before taking the needle to each one.

I felt myself falling backward, the effect of you placing your bare foot to my face and pushing against it. "Pay attention, slut. Stop daydreaming."

I got back up on my knees, but didn't retrieve the foot I'd been massaging. "You sound just like my master when you say that, m'Lord."

"Perhaps then it's time for you to learn how to properly listen to others more attentively, slut?" I nodded in agreement. What else was I going to do? Deny the need to learn to focus? I smiled quietly at that thought.

"Slut."

I heard the stern, monotone warning in your voice. "I'm sorry, m'Lord." Oops, already I was losing focus. "Did you say something?"

"No, but now that I think about it, how about we clean out the basement this weekend, after your appointment. We could make ourselves a dungeon. I can invite your master over to help with the details. Maybe even invite a few extra sluts to help out."

"M'Lord, bring in extra sluts? For what purpose?" I couldn't help feeling a mixture of shock and jealousy at the thought of sharing either of my men with strangers.

"Now, slut, we can't fuck you if you're healing from the piercing. And, having the extra hands will help to ensure that everything will be in working order as it's completed. Wouldn't you like to see my other slut hanging from the ceiling, fully exposed for any kind of entertainment?" Shit, I'd forgotten about that other woman.

"You would bring her into our house again, m'Lord?" I was shocked and hurt that he would do this to me.

"Slut, you don't have a say as to who is invited into this home. Remember, it was you who made the decision to be a slut and slave to two men. Your choice, not ours. Unless," I watched from the floor as you cocked your head to the side.

"Unless, you want out of the arrangement? I think I could get us a quickie divorce. Of course, you'd lose everything."

Oh.

"I'll behave, m'Lord and be a good slut and slave to both you and Master. It just hadn't occurred to me that you still associated with other women. By all means, invite your guests for the weekend. I'll even make refreshments for them."

"My dear slut, you women -- with the except of your pierced areas -- will be the refreshments." Wickedly, and with what looked like anticipation, you smiled.

The rest of the week went uneventfully. Well, almost uneventfully. I worked at adjusting to my new schedule and the two men worked at readjusting my body into positions that should be considered inhumane. Thankfully, each man only has so much time with me, so once I'm manipulated into one position or another in some contraption or other, photographs are shot for posterity, and I'm rewarded -- usually -- with a wonderful orgasm, or two, or three.

I'd have each morning to myself to clean house, run errands and tend to my own needs. Those needs of mine were becoming less and less as my Master and m'Lord took over my body more and more -- dictating my actions, setting precedence, and even drilling me on proper responses for different situations -- both public and private. My favourite time was when out in public with either man, I could refer to him by his name or some other, more discreet, endearment. Then, back home or in the car, it'd be: "Yes, Master. Yes, m'Lord." Rarely would the word no be used -- and if used, it was always used at the proper time. Never, was it used to deny either man a service.