Chapter 32

"I'm all tied up with no place to go."
- J. d'Arc

I could not help myself and grinned at the insistent way Marge had asked me what I had in the bags that were on the coffee table. Any other matters that I wanted to discuss with the Caspar women were pushed aside, and I picked up one of the bags. I grabbed a hold of the first thing I touched and began to slowly withdraw it, but paused just before it came into view and said, "Now, wouldn't it be so much better for Slave to discover some of these items when they are used, and not before?"

Traci, Lori, and Marge had all begun to lean forward as soon as I had touched the bag. However, when I made my observation, all three groaned and collapsed back into their seats. As comical as their antics were, I was successfully able to suppress a chuckle, but I did feel my grin widen. I rummaged through the bag I was holding, and not finding what I was looking for, I set it down and picked up the next bag. It was in the third bag that I found the item that I sought. When I pulled out the object, Traci let out a surprised gasp.

"Hey, that looks like mine!" Traci exclaimed.

While the leather hood appeared similar to the one that Traci had received from 'Santa' at Christmas, it had a few differences. For one, there were padded ear pockets that blocked out all but the loudest of noises. In addition, also unlike Traci's hood, the area over the mouth was not detachable. Instead, there was a three-quarter-inch mouth hole that would allow Slave to breathe -- but she would be forced to do so through gritted teeth. A strap that ran underneath the jaw would prevent her from opening her mouth.

I looked at Marge and asked, "Were you able to pick up the items on the list I gave you? More specifically, the first item I asked for?"

Marge was staring transfixedly at the sensory deprivation hood I was holding, and did not seem to hear my question at first. I was about to ask again about the medical supply list I had given to her a few days prior when she nodded.

"Okay. Lori, I would like you to go upstairs with Marge, where she will give you an enema. Then, when you are finished with that, I want you to take a shower so that you are nice and clean. After you dry yourself off, you will put on the hood. Don't worry about lacing it up or doing the straps, I will take care of it once you return. Once that hood is on, you shall become Slave, and Master's Lover will escort her back down here. Any questions?"

"Yes... well, it is more of a suggestion rather than a question," Lori said. "Mom should have the enema, instead. After all, she is not safely on the pill, yet."

I saw the signs of a sexual flush beginning on Marge. I wondered if she was thinking about the same possibilities I was. I smiled and asked her, "You have more than one nozzle?" When she nodded, I said, "Okay, both of you will have enemas, then. We'll leave whose asshole I come in and who'll be sucking out my cum for later."

A small spasm passed through Marge's body, but she quickly regained her senses. "Go on upstairs and get undressed. I'll be up in a couple of minutes after I have prepared a solution for us," Marge instructed Lori. From her tone, it sounded like she was not talking as a mother to a daughter, but as a nurse to a patient.

Lori stood up to comply with Marge's orders. When she took the hood that I offered to her, she seemed to hold it almost reverently. As Lori ascended the staircase and Marge headed to the kitchen, I began to take out the items that I would most likely be using that evening. Traci watched with amused interest at first, but then she suddenly jumped to her feet and began to walk briskly to the hall that lead to our bedroom.

Curious, I asked, "Where are you going?"

"To change," she answered, not even bothering to look back.

I only had ten yards of three-eighths-diameter soft cotton rope, so I stood next to the coffee table and visualized Slave laid out upon it. Once I had a good idea of the knots that I would be using, I set down the rope and began setting out a few more items that would be useful.

"What the hell is that?"

Traci had returned to the living room, and while I was not terribly surprised to see her carrying her vibrator, I was taken aback by what she was wearing. She had on a pair of my sweats, and while she had grown two inches to my one in the past five months we had known each other, my clothes were still rather baggy on her. The clothes surprised me enough that it took me a moment to recall she had asked me a question. I figured she was referring to the object that I was holding.

"It is a FeelDoe. It is a double-ended dildo, but the shorter, egg-shaped knob goes inside the wearer's pussy. This ribbed patch will rub right up against the clitoris and," I paused and picked up a harness that I had already placed on the table, "you can also use it with this for more stability."

Traci's gaze went from the silicone dildo to the stuff on the table. Amused, she asked, "Did you ask Erin to get those in purple?"

I shook my head. Both the bondage rope and FeelDoe were in my favorite color, but I had not given Erin any special instructions when it came to color. "I guess she must have known because of my Birkenstocks."

I started moving items from the table to the couch, asking, "Could you do me a favor and lie down?"

"Nooooooooo," Traci said, slowly shaking her head.

Flashing a reassuring smile, I pledged, "I promise I won't tie you up. I just want to see if I have enough rope."

I received a dubious look, but Traci cautiously complied. While the physiques of Traci and her sister were different, I was able to get a rough idea of the amount of rope I needed. I kept my word to my girlfriend and did not bind her at all; rather, Traci held on to the length of rope that I would need for Slave's wrists over her head and kept her ankles next to the legs of the coffee table. After I made certain I had a sufficient supply, I began to coil the rope up.

Traci got off the table and sat in her father's chair. "Slave's head will be toward this end, right?" she asked, indicating the one closest to her.

I nodded and she proceeded to get comfortable. Watching her shift around wearing my sweats, my curiosity got the best of me. I guessed Traci's idiosyncrasies were beginning to rub off onto me, because I asked, "Why are you wearing that?"

Traci let out a small humph as if it was totally obvious. "Not only does my mom have sexual fantasies about me, but now my sister does, too. You think I'm going to do anything to encourage them? At least by wearing this, I can play with myself without them watching me."

I almost said that she should just put a towel over her head, but Marge and Slave were not ravenous bugblatter beasts from Traal, so I kept that comment to myself. As I tried to come up with a more rational reply, Slave and Marge came into view. Slave had her right arm on the handrail and her left on Marge's shoulder. When Marge guided my blinded slave in front of me, she reached up and removed the hand from her shoulder. Slave instantly assumed second position.

Since Lori's safety was my number one priority, I knew I had better explain some things before I tightened Slave's hood. Adopting my master persona, I said, "Slave, your hood will make it virtually impossible for us to communicate. Therefore, you will not need to ask for permission to come; feel free to do so. In addition, you will not be able to use your warning phrase. Instead, when you want to stop, you will say your safety phrase rapidly three times. Even if I cannot understand the words you say, I'll know to stop. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master," came Lori's barely comprehendible reply.

"Finally, I will need to see how much sound your hood blocks. Once I have everything fastened, I will begin to give you orders. I will start softly, and I want you to immediately comply as soon as you understand what I am saying. Do you understand?"

Again, I could only just make out Lori's answer. With care, I laced up the back of the leather hood and then securely fastened the straps. I then took a step back and began telling Slave to lift her left hand. I gradually increased my volume and was almost on the verge of shouting when she raised her left hand. Satisfied with the effectiveness of the hood, I tapped Slave's shoulder once. She dropped to her knees and assumed first position.

Comforted with the knowledge that Slave could not hear me, I dropped my master persona and turned to Traci, asking, "Could you run upstairs to Lori's room and fetch her pillow?"

"Fetch?!? What am I, a dog? You think I'm a bitch, like Pollyanna does Rose?!?" However, there was a trace of humor in her voice, and she quickly got up to do what I had asked.

"Take your time," Marge said, dropping the robe she had been wearing and drawing closer to me. It was like lighting a fire under Traci, because she took the stairs two at a time; when she returned with the pillow, she was slightly breathless. She also threw the pillow at me, instead of merely handing it over. Knowing my girlfriend all too well, I was prepared for that form of delivery and caught it with ease.

Placing the pillow on the end of the table furthest from Traci -- who had collapsed back into her father's chair -- I lifted the coffee table up and angled it away from the couch. Once I had it in the position I wanted, I tapped Slave twice on the shoulder; she stood and assumed second position. Taking her by the arm, I guided her to the coffee table. I sat her down upon the pillow and then spread her knees, guiding her feet to where I needed them to be. Once they were in place, I placed my hands on her knees and pressed down somewhat firmly. While it was not a silent signal that we had arranged beforehand, she seemed to understand what I was trying to communicate and kept her feet where they were.

Placing my left hand on her back, I pressed my right hand to her chest and guided her so that she was on her back. I then took a hold of both of her wrists and raised them so that they were over her head. When I released my grip, she held them in place, and I moved over to retrieve the coil of rope. I folded the rope in half to create a lark's head and drew the ends of the rope through it to create a loop. After wrapping the loop around Slave's wrists, I reversed direction and began to bind her wrists together. I was careful to keep the tension somewhat loose, since Slave was in no position to tell me if it was too tight. Since I was working with a set amount of rope, I only wrapped the wrists four times before bringing both ends of the rope through the lark's head and cross-wrapping them, creating a cinch. Again, I kept the cinch-wrap simple, but instead of tying off the ends, I took both strands of rope and brought them to the end of the table. Keeping the rope together, I guided it underneath the table until I reached the center. I then tied a knot so that I could separate the ropes at that point and brought each end to a table leg. As with the knot that bound Slave's wrists together, I wanted there to be just enough wiggle room in the tension of the line so that Slave could move her arms slightly. I tied off each end to the table legs after making sure I had the right amount of slack for her arms. Careful not to restrict Slave's circulation, I tied her ankles with the remaining rope.

I stood up and inspected my handiwork. Confident that Slave was not going anywhere, I announced, "I'm going to go and take a quick shower. Feel free to keep Slave 'entertained' until I return. Oh, please only use the stuff that I set out on the sofa. The stuff that I left in the bags should stay in the bags. Also, while Slave did express an interest in exploring her limits when it comes to pain, it would be best to hold off on dealing with that until she can at least vocalize any protests."

"What are those scissors for?" Traci asked, pointing at them.

"They are EMT scissors and should cut through the ropes with ease. If Slave wants out, don't bother wasting time untying her, just cut her loose," I explained. My reluctance to damage the long rope was secondary to Slave's overall safety.

Traci and Marge nodded in understanding, so I headed back to the master bedroom. Before I entered the hallway, I glanced back one last time and saw Marge reach out and run her fingertips along Slave's abdomen. Stripping as I walked, I knew I was operating on a limited amount of time. Because of her fit condition, I felt that Slave could hold that position for about an hour. The sensory deprivation hood was what I was most concerned about, though; since it restricted Slave's breathing to only her mouth, I wanted to remove it as soon as possible.

I was nude by the time I reached the master bathroom and only paused to tuck my long hair under a shower cap before climbing into the shower. Even though time was of the essence, I made sure to wash my entire body from the neck down, since I was unsure of what the night was going to involve. When I finished, I quickly dried myself off and tossed the shower cap aside before entering the bedroom. I paused long enough in there to grab the tube of Astroglide from the bedside table and my bathrobe. I did not bother donning the robe, but I figured it would be good to have on hand when we finished the scene.

When I returned to the living room, Marge rushed me and gave me a deep kiss. My arms instinctively wrapped around her back, the lubricant and robe falling from my hands on to the floor. As our tongues dueled, I detected a familiar taste on her lips. In a turn of events, I was tasting her daughter's juices from her lips, instead of the other way around. No, it was not her daughter's, but Slave's juices, I reminded myself.

When we broke the kiss, I gave her a grin and observed, "It 'tastes' like you've been busy."

While the flush that Marge had might have been easy to confuse with embarrassment instead of sexual excitement, the desire in her eyes made it appear the latter. "Jesus, I swear she tastes just like Mel."

To me, each of the three Caspar women had a similar, yet slightly unique, scent and taste. However, since I had never sampled the essence of Marge's sister, I had to take her word for it that this family trait carried further. "Did she have an orgasm?"

"I think she has come close, but I don't think so," Marge answered.

"She hasn't, and neither have I," Traci replied. Traci had been witness to more of Slave's orgasms than Marge, so she could be pretty confident with her statement. Sitting in her father's chair, Traci had her legs drawn up and both hands down the front of her sweats. Even with the distance between us, I could hear the faint sound of buzzing coming from under the article of clothing.

The sound of the vibrator grew louder as I went over to my girlfriend. Leaning down, I gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead. Traci had tilted her head back and closed her eyes when she saw me leaning towards her, but when I only kissed her forehead, she gave me a small, playful pout. I guessed she had expected a kiss on the lips, but I felt that the subtle remaining taste on my lips would most likely be unwelcome. Her expression changed when she shifted her gaze to my manhood; a grin spread across her face.

"Looks like I need to get you ready for Slave," she said, addressing my cock.

When I had been tying up Slave, I had been focused on the task at hand and tried to subdue my desires. Still, Slave possessed a fantastic body, and that combined with the succulent scent of her excitement had made me semi-hard. My arousal had been washed away with the shower, but it had slowly began to creep back in ever since the greeting I had received when I returned to the living room.

I took a step forward and pressed myself against the side of the chair, while Traci removed her right hand from under her sweats and reached out to stroke my hardening cock. Wrapping her small hand around the base, she looked up, and our gazes locked upon one another as she brought her lips to my cockhead. I was the first to break our staring contest when I closed my eyes to marvel at the sensation of her tongue swirling around my glans when her lips engulfed the tip. So lost was I in my tactile enjoyment, I did not notice Marge move up behind me. It was her pressing her breasts against my back that alerted me to her presence. Opening my eyes, I tried to look back at her, but the mouth on my cock made it impossible. My turned head did give Marge the opportunity to stick out her tongue and trace along the ridge of my ear, though.

Again, I closed my eyes and allowed myself to fully enjoy my other senses: the suction of Traci's mouth on my manhood, the nibbling of my ear and then my neck from Marge, the softness of Traci's hair on my fingertips as I rested my hands on her head, the change in tempo of the sound from the vibrator as she began to match its penetration into her with that of her mouth on my cock. It was when Marge had slowly squatted down, keeping her breasts pressed against my back and trailing little kisses as she made her descent and slid her tongue along the crack of my ass, that I finally became fully erect. My cock jumped slightly when Marge spread my cheeks and pressed her tongue against my asshole.

It appeared that my reaction had alerted Traci that she was not the only person applying ministrations to my body, because she removed her mouth from my cock. Opening my eyes, I saw a look of amusement on Traci's face.

"You should be good to go with Slave, now," proclaimed Traci.

Upon hearing this, Marge stopped the rim job I was receiving and stood up. Free to fully turn towards her, I gave her a smile, as well as a quick kiss on the lips; her tongue had just played around the surface of my anus and had not penetrated me, so I wanted to show her my appreciation. She grinned at me and then at Traci when she saw her youngest daughter move her now-free hand under the sweatshirt she was wearing to fondle her left breast.

Less than five minutes had elapsed since Slave was last attended to, and I hoped that the lapse had only increased her anticipation. As I moved back to her, something on the table caught my eye, something I knew that was not there when I had left the living room earlier. I reached down, picked it up, and arched my eyebrow when I turned my head back at Marge.

The grin was still plastered to Marge's face when she explained, "I thought it might be useful, so I slipped it in my robe pocket before I came down. Since it takes some time for it to work its magic, I went ahead and applied it."

"She means. To herself and. Slave," Traci haltingly clarified. Unrestrained by servicing my cock, she had fervently begun to masturbate again and was working herself close to an orgasm. In the state she was in, it was a small miracle that she had even heard her mother, let alone been able to say something.

I set the tube of Anal-Eze back where I had found it. Since she had her eyes closed, Traci did not see the smile I gave her. While Traci had found it pleasurable for me to play with her rosebud using my tongue or finger, she had shown no interest in exploring anal sex. I was somewhat relieved at that, because I thought that, with her smaller frame, it would only be painful to have something as wide as my cock in her asshole. Even the desensitizing powers of Anal-Eze only helped with the initial moment of penetration and would not be effective in numbing her completely.

There was a noticeable damp spot on the pillow under Slave when I crouched down to examine her pussy. She appeared incredibly wet, and while some of it may have been Marge's saliva, it was mainly her own secretions. Lining my cockhead with her entrance, I was careful to avoid contact with her and thus alert her of my presence. I figured, with my saliva-coated cock and her wetness, that I should be able to fully penetrate her with one stroke. The hood would prevent me from readily judging if I caused her discomfort or not; thus, I shifted my gaze to monitor her body language for her reaction as soon as I entered her and began to slide home.

There was indeed a reaction from Slave, but it was not the one that I had been worried about. A scream of pleasure escaped through her clenched teeth as she arched her back. I felt the walls of her pussy squeezing my cock in rhythm with the spasms that coursed through her body. Even my careful precautions with tying her wrists and ankles seemed in vain; such was the force she was pulling at them, they were bound to leave rope marks.

Now that I was fully seated in her, I remained motionless waiting for her to come back down.

"And that is what she looks like... when she comes," an exhausted Traci explained to her mother.

It appeared that Slave was not the only one to have had an orgasm; my girlfriend had her eyes closed and her head slumped to the side, her heavy breathing almost in sync with Slave's. Marge, who had moved to sit on the edge of the couch and had begun to caress her sex, glanced at her youngest daughter before turning her attentions towards me. We shared an amused look for about five seconds before the two of us burst out laughing. Both of us tried to suppress ourselves, but the shaking that passed through my body drew a moan from Slave, which in turned caused Marge and I to laugh even more. It took almost a half a minute for the two of us to contain our mirth.

Once we had recovered, I began to slowly fuck Slave and Marge resumed playing with herself. I shifted my attention to Slave and concentrated on the muffled moans that escaped from the leather hood. Part of me regretted having Slave wearing the contraption, since it did not allow me to clearly read her reactions, but her immediate orgasm upon my initial entry into her was a clear indication that she enjoyed the hood. However, I was working with a time limit and wanted to remove the hood as soon as possible.

"Marge, could you grab the Astroglide?" I asked. Fearing that Slave's pussy was drying out, Marge quickly abandoned her pleasuring of herself and moved to comply. After retrieving it from where I had dropped it, she came up beside me and began to undo the cap.

I then added, "It's for the strap-on."

The look of surprise on Marge's face at my suggestion was quickly replaced with a wicked grin. It took her a minute to figure out how to put it on, then after coating the egg-shaped bulb, she slid that end into her pussy. She then began to rub the lubricant onto the rest of the shaft.

"Mom grew a cock," observed an amused Traci. It appeared that she had recovered from her own orgasm and had renewed playing with herself. I could not hear the sound of the vibrator, but from the hand movement under the sweatpants Traci was wearing; it looked like it was in good use.

"Damn, it sure the hell feels like I did," commented Marge as she began to stroke the purple shaft. From the way it glistened, the FeelDoe appeared well lubricated, and as Marge continued to pump her hand up and down the silicone dildo, it appeared that she enjoyed the sensation the FeelDoe created in her pussy and on her clit. I was going to need to talk to Erin the next morning to see about getting the vibrating version.

Slave, who was unable to hear any of our conversation, was working herself closer to another orgasm. I was also pretty close to coming myself and knew that it was only a short matter of time before I spilled my seed -- especially if I had to endure the wonderful feeling that the walls of her pussy created when she came. A whimper of protest escaped from Slave's lips when she felt my cock leave the warm embrace of her pussy.

Once I stood up, I gestured for Marge to take my place. She hesitated for a second before crouching down and positioning herself between Slave's thighs. After running the head of the phallic member along Slave's dripping valley, Marge began to slowly guide the FeelDoe into Slave. The effect on Slave was instantaneous as the familiar feeling of my cock was replaced with this new sensation. Frozen, Slave held her breath and remained absolutely still until she felt Marge's hands upon her legs. This drew a loud moan from Slave. As Marge began to work up a steady rhythm, Slave answered by trying to lift her hips to match the thrusts.

Beckoning me over with a couple of fingers, Traci gestured that I resume my former place next her. I was slightly surprised. I doubted very much she would want to perform fellatio, especially with my cock coated with Slave's juices. I turned out to be correct, as she wrapped her small right hand around my manhood and began to give me a handjob.

Traci's digital manipulations of my cock were nowhere near as talented as her past endeavors. It was a good thing too, since I had been very close to coming. It was still a good feeling and she kept me hard, but she was distracted at the sight before her. At times, she would pause both of her hands (her left hand had not left her sweatpants; the telltale sound of the vibrator announcing its presence once more) and watch transfixed as her mom fucked Slave. The look on Traci's face was difficult to read, and I could only imagine the internal turmoil she must be feeling. On one hand, she was watching two women who had both admitted that they were sexuality attracted to her. On the other hand, the forbidden scene was quite erotic and seemed to make my voyeuristic girlfriend even more excited. As is usually the case, hedonism seemed to have won out, and Traci began to try to work the two of us towards an orgasm.

When I felt myself once again getting close to coming, I reached down and grabbed ahold of Traci's wrist, signaling her to stop. Turning her head away from the Sapphic sight, she looked at my cock and a smile spread across her face. The grip I had on her wrist was light, so it was not difficult for her to slowly milk my cock, starting at the base and working her way towards the tip. When the drop of precum that had formed at the tip of my cock began to grow, Traci leaned closer and stuck out her tongue. Her fist almost reached the head of my cock when the drop fell upon her waiting taste buds. I had to inhale deeply and fight the urge to come when I saw the angelic look on her face, her eyes filled with the love we shared and a grin of happiness on her face. The fact that there was a trail leading from my cock to her lips did not help matters. I quickly turned away when she released her hold on me, the trail breaking as I did.

It appeared that I was not the only one close to coming, as Marge had begun to quicken her thrusts into Slave. Squatting down next to Slave, I gave her right nipple a quick kiss before I began to undo the buckles on the leather hood. Once they were unbuckled, I guided Slave's head up, and she held it in place while I began to unlace it. After I was done, the leather hood hung loosely on Slave's head, and I noticed that she had to stop herself a couple of times from trying to shake it off. When she realized that I was not going to remove the contraption, she tentatively began to lower her head and only fully relaxed when I had not stopped her.

The ordeal with the leather hood seemed only to postpone Slave's orgasm slightly, because less than a minute afterwards she began to tense up. Marge sensed it as well and renewed her effort in trying to bring the two of them off. Once again, I feared for the wellbeing of Slave's wrists as she pulled at her bonds, her back arching as an orgasm worked its way throughout her body. Despite that, I grabbed the top of her hood and quickly yanked it off her head.

"MOOOOOOOMMMM!!!" Slave screamed out in passion, the sight of Marge plowing into her seeming to renew and greatly magnify Slave's orgasm.

I do not know if it was Slave's cry that triggered Marge's orgasm, but it was at that point that Marge came. A loud cry of pleasure escaped from the oldest Caspar's lips, and she buried the FeelDoe as deep as she could into Slave's pussy, as if trying to plant nonexistent semen in her daughter's womb. Finally, as the last wave of pleasure rolled through Marge's body, she practically collapsed, exhausted, upon Slave's body.

Marge remained motionless; her head beside Slave's, with their breasts pressed against each other. After a few moments, Marge's body began to shake again, but this time it was not because she was in the throes of an orgasm. When she lifted her head, tears were falling from her eyes and she moaned, "Oh, Lo... Slave."

The triumphant grin that spread across Slave's face lasted for an instant, and I think I was the only one in the room who noticed it. Slave began to tug at her wrist restraints once more and I realized the folly in using one length of rope. I quickly grabbed the scissors and cut the rope that bounded her wrists. Slave wrapped her arms around Marge and began to console her. Raising her head, Slave began to kiss and lick away Marge's tears.

When Marge had calmed down, Slave brought her hands up to Marge's face and cupped her cheeks. Slave waited until Marge was focused upon her, then she said, "I am so happy that my first time with a woman was with you, Master's Lover."

Slave's words earned a wry grin from Marge, and their eyes remained locked as Slave gradually guided Marge's head down. Slave closed her eyes first when their lips touched and Marge began to leisurely explore the other woman's lips.