Chapter 3

My Mistress brought the crop down hard on my ass.

"My name is not Syl," she growled, her crop punctuating every word. "It's Mistress or Mistress Kennedy or ma'am. If my name were Sylvia, then this past year would have been incest, wouldn't it?"

Her blows had me pushing into Megan's mouth even as I tried to pull out of it. Marie, the slave lying on the table in front of me, was my youngest sister. The effect of my other sister's riding crop and my attempts to remove my cock from Megan's mouth were the same as if I'd just kept pumping into her.

My Mistress was my 20-year old sister, Sylvia. I hadn't known that when I started this, though she did. It wasn't until our sixth session together, when her mask had slipped while my cock was buried inside of her that I found out. Of course, I was tied up, with my cock artificially kept hard by a cock ring and couldn't do anything. I'd yelled at her then, but she'd just smiled and kept riding me, her pussy filling and emptying of my erection. I was spread eagled on a bed at Mistress Kali's house, yelling and screaming, trying to throw my sister off my cock but all that did was plunge it in deeper within her.

She had fucked me into submission, telling me how much she loved me and how much she had always wanted me. All the while she was rising and falling on me she was explaining herself to me. After a while, it didn't matter that she was my sister. It didn't matter that this was incest or that she had deceived me. She was my beautiful sister - my beautiful Mistress - and I just wanted to fill her with cum.

It had been hard, but I'd reconciled being my sister's slave and lover. I hadn't even missed a week - couldn't miss a week. The only difference was that we no longer needed to use Mistress Kali's house; we could have our sessions at my sister's house instead. Of course, by then I was hooked and would've met my owner at any house or building. My ego needed the salve only my Mistress could apply.

"This isn't Megan," my Mistress continued, her voice tight. "Her name is Marie. She was staying with me this summer while her parents were on vacation but I kept sending her away every Tuesday. She knew what I did for a living - I'd told her when she asked me to stay over the summer instead of running around Europe with mom and dad ... with HER mom and dad, I mean. She figured I had a client and was curious ... so she came back and saw ... you ... and me. She begged me to let her join, begged me to make her my slave. I did, just to show her how much she wouldn't like it ... but she did like it. She loved it. She begged me ... my slave begged me to let her do this, tonight. She begged me to allow you to come into her unprotected womb while she was fertile. She's been a really good slave, so I decided to reward her."

"She wanted this?" I asked, confused.

"She begged for this," Mistress replied, her voice slow and clear with a hard emphasis on that second word. "She begged for this for weeks. My slave seems to have ... a thing ... for you..."

I turned to my sister, lying bound on the table, her mouth still nursing on my cock. There was a pleading look in her eye, a desperate, begging look. There was no hesitation, no embarrassment. I could find some fear within her emerald eyes but not a hint of anything resembling regret.

"You wanted this, Megan?" I asked, trying to put this whole crazy mess into perspective. I was beginning to wonder if I'd not lost my mind somewhere along the way. Maybe incest did that to you.

"Her name is MARIE!" Mistress said coldly, her crop smacking hard on my ass. Just as I was David Daniel, Megan was Megan Marie. Like a key in a lock, it all fit together.

I almost didn't feel it as my youngest sister nodded her head, her mouth straining to take more of me in. Instead, I felt a cold shudder run through me and the room was just beginning to spin out of control. I couldn't catch my breath, couldn't understand what the hell was happening to me. I looked around, trying to find something to hold onto, some shred of normalcy to a completely wrong situation.

I wasn't to find one as my eyes lit upon the other slave in the room.

She was sitting in position, her long blonde hair flowing in whirls and curls down her back. Her face was an oval, slightly long, but with a pointed chin. Her nose was long and thin, upturned just slightly at the end. She had blue eyes the color of a cloud-less sky and they were watching me silently. Her lips were small and thin, turned down in worry. She had high cheekbones pulling her pale skin taught.

She was larger in the bust than either of my sisters, her breasts a firm and steady D-cup. They looked huge on her slight frame, even though there was just the tiniest roll of flesh around her mid-section. I couldn't see her hands or even most of her legs; she held her hands behind her in the submissive position and her legs were folded beneath her. I didn't need to, however; I knew that body almost better than I knew my own.

"Sarah?!?" I said in disbelief, the final shock in a day filled with them.

David Daniel. Megan Marie. Sarah Ellen. Everything fit.

"Ellen!" Mistress called and I almost didn't feel the crop smacking down on my butt. "Her name is not Sarah, its Ellen. Her husband cheated on her until they came to an arrangement; she promised not to question him if he withheld everything from her about the days when he came to see me. She lived in denial, but it worked and, while she wasn't happy about her husband's activities, she loved him enough to ignore it because he seemed to need what he found at my door so badly. She was curious, though, so one day about 5 weeks ago she followed him and found him coming to my home. She couldn't believe it, didn't want to believe it. She couldn't ignore it though and came to me the next day to ... discuss things. I explained it to her; I explained everything to her. She ran screaming from my house, calling me ... well, she wasn't very happy. The next week, though, she was back. She begged me to instruct her; to show her how to be a Domme for her husband and we tried ... we tried over the next week ... but she just wasn't able to pull it off; she much preferred to be a slave. So she begged me to teach her how to be that; how to fit inside her husband's new kinky world. We worked on it for days and she was learning but not fast enough. An important day was approaching and she wanted to surprise him on that day. So, she lied to her husband about being needed out of town by her company and she's spent the past 6 days here, being my slave all hours of the day, every day."

"Oh god, Sarah, I'm so sorry," I said, tears filling my eyes.

"My slave is ELLEN!" Mistress pounded on me with the crop, but that just drove my cock deeper into Megan's ... Marie's ... mouth. I didn't really notice. My eyes were on Sarah ... Ellen.

She just looked at me, her face expressionless, her bright eyes holding my own. She made no movement, no sound, nothing to give away what she was thinking or feeling. She just sat there as my youngest sister continued to suck on my hardness.

"Ellen, come here," Mistress called, moving a few steps from me. To my amazement, Sarah scrambled to her feet and nearly ran to Mistress' side. "Show Daniel what true obeisance is. Service me!"

I watched in stunned disbelief as my inhibited wife, who had always thought girl-girl sex was disgusting, turned around, showing her back to my Mistress and dropped to her ass. I gasped as her head tilted back, firm tits straining forwards and up, her plain, thin, leather slave collar presented proudly around her neck, and her arms pushed, sliding her towards my ... our ... Mistress, stopping just underneath. I watched, transfixed, the rest of the world dropping away as she opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue and surged upward even while my Mistress squatted slightly. I groaned as my wife plastered her mouth to Mistress' sex. My own mouth was dry as my Mistress closed her eyes and groaned, rubbing her pussy along my wife's mouth. As those beautiful emerald eyes closed, I watched the tip of my owner's tongue dart out and moisten her lips.

"Oh, my slave," Mistress groaned. "Your tongue is so good. Don't forget my asshole. That's it, stick your tongue deep into my asshole. Damn ... now forward, into my pussy. Don't forget ... oh ... god ... that's it ... suck on my clit. Oh ... I'm not going to last long ... I want you to drink my cum, bitch." Mistress' eyes opened and she looked right at me as she ground her pussy onto my wife's mouth. As her eyes held mine, her hips moved forward and back, dragging her lower lips upon my wife's upper ones and bathing Sarah with her sweet nectar.

"You better cum down Marie's throat, Daniel," my mistress moaned to me. "If you don't cum before I do, I'm going to punish you."

It was too much. The sight of my wife servicing my Mistress, the feel of Marie's tongue once again swirling all around my cock as my hips yet again began their forward and back motion of their own volition; it was more than I could take. My hips began moving harder into Marie's mouth, even as my Mistress' did upon my wife's - her slave, Ellen's - face. I grunted as I spewed my load into Marie's mouth but it was almost simultaneous with Mistress cumming into Ellen's waiting mouth.

As I slowly descended from the peak of ecstasy, I wondered if my wife would be able to deal with what she had found; if she would be able to deal with being this woman. She'd always been deferential but never openly submissive; never like this. Guilt wandered through me as I questioned whether I had forced my wife into this role by pursuing my Tuesday pleasure. I pondered if my wife had truly become my Mistress' slave or if she had somehow been playing a part in some strange, demented play. Then I thought back to my Mistress' words and I began to suspect that I was the one who had been deluding myself all this time. Sarah had come here several times in the past few weeks and, according to Mistress Kennedy, had even been her slave around the clock for the past 6 days. I knew, at that moment, that my wife was lost to the slave Ellen; no one could fool Mistress for that long.

I felt guilty and dirty yet glorious and happy. I had lost my wife. I had violated my under-age, youngest sister. I had obeyed my Mistress. I had gained my wife. All of the feelings were at odds even as my thoughts swirled within me. Then my Mistress' words returned to me: "My law is all that matters here." I'd dealt last year with the incestuous nature of my relationship with my oldest younger sister. I could, somehow, deal with this.

Without thought, I dropped to my knees, assuming the position. I watched the last throes of my Mistress' orgasm in my peripheral vision, watching my wife gobbling at my sister's sex. It was almost beyond belief that my wife, who'd always abhorred the thought of two women together, could be sitting there now satisfying a woman but the proof was no more than 6 feet from me. I saw her throat swallowing, saw her tongue lapping at my owner's flesh. Mistress' hands were at her face, pulling her deeper up into her sex. I could almost see her juices flowing down Sarah's - Ellen's - cheeks.

Mistress' orgasm lasted over a minute, but eventually she pushed Ellen away and moved back. Ellen was still gulping as she pulled forward and moved into the submissive position. Her eyes, though, shining even brighter than the womanly cum soaking her face, stayed on me, emotionless and distant and I worried at that moment that maybe I hadn't found my wife after all. Maybe I had completely lost her. Mistress moved around her unsteadily, her hand landing lightly on Ellen's head. She walked over to me and stood at my side.

"Ellen is almost as good as you, Daniel," she gasped, running her fingers down the back of my head. The slave that had been and maybe still was my wife smiled briefly at that, her face blushing but pleased. "Move back a moment so I can set Marie free."

I crawled back a few steps and then resumed my position. I remained bowed, my face towards the floor, but my eyes followed my Mistress as she moved around the table. I heard the clink and clicks of chains coming free at each place she stopped, though she moved lightly around the table more than once. Finally, she stopped at the side and I heard her grunt as Marie's feet appeared over the side of the platform and then dropped, trembling, onto the ground. I watched Marie kneel at Mistress' feet, watched as Mistress helped her down. Then, she turned Marie to face me.

"You three have some talking to do and I need to refill our pitcher," Mistress Kennedy murmured. "You have until I come back. Don't move. Don't raise your voices or you'll be punished."

I watched as she walked out the doorway then turned to look at my wife. Sarah's expression had not changed, her eyes studying me but her face blank. She offered not a word, simply looking at me askance.

"Sarah," I said quietly, my heart breaking. Had I lost her completely? Did she now hate me and want to be free of me? "I'm so sorr..."

"My name is Ellen," Sarah spoke quietly, her eyes suddenly glistening with unshed tears. "You hurt Sarah ... for a long time. You betrayed her. You crushed her. She tried so hard to forgive you. She told herself for months that eventually you'd get it out of your system, that eventually you'd come back to her." Sarah paused as the tears started down her cheeks. "You didn't though. Every Tuesday you'd open a new gaping wound in her. She tried to bandage it, tried to tell herself that your happiness meant everything. For a while, she convinced herself. Then she started thinking about what you were getting that she couldn't give you. She followed you ... one day ... she followed you..." Sarah broke down at that, her eyes closing tightly and tears streaming down her face.

"Sarah, I'm so sorry," I whispered to her. "I never meant to hurt you; I love you..."

"Don't you think that I know that?" she said, her eyes turning back to me. "That was what made it hardest. If you didn't love me, if I didn't know in my heart and soul that you loved me, then I could have left and gotten away. I love you ... and I knew that you loved me."

She paused a moment, then shuddered and continued. "I followed you here, parking down the alleyway and watched you walk into this house. I knew your sister lived here and I thought maybe you stopped off to talk to her. I kept my car running for nearly 20 minutes, but you never came out. I waited for 2 hours, feeling like a fool, wondering if your sister was helping you, wondering if maybe she was letting you use her house to ... to ... to play at being a slave. Then, when I saw you exit through the back door ... when I saw your hair mussed and your tie undone and your sister kissing you on the lips like a lover with her robe opening on her naked body..."

"I called in sick the next day and came back, ready to beat the shit out of Sylvia," Sarah hissed. "I actually slapped her as I walked in, slapped her a few times. She fought me down, wanted to know what the hell was going on ... but there was fear in her eyes and I knew that she knew. I spit at her, yelled at her, tried to throw her off me but she wouldn't let me up. Then, I just broke down crying because I knew I'd lost you. I knew you loved me and I knew that I would never lose you to another woman ... but this wasn't just another woman ... it was your sister. How the hell could I compete with that?"

"I don't really remember how," Sarah continued quietly, "but we ended up at the kitchen table of all places. I kept crying that I lost you ... and Sylvia just let me cry it out. Then she started talking to me. She told me that," Sarah smiled a wan, little smile, "that she was jealous of me because you loved me and she was just a diversion to you. She explained how, when this had started, you hadn't known it was her - that she'd worn a mask but that, at one of your 'scenes' it had fallen off while you were tied up and you tried to get away but she wouldn't let you. She told me that she loved you, more than a sister, that she had always wanted you but had given up having you because of all of the shit that society thought about it. When you'd come to her, though, her dominating older brother, wanting to be a slave for just a little while but not realizing to whom you were talking, she'd thought maybe it was a sign. Maybe the universe was letting her have you, for just a little while ... and she cried, saying that she'd grasped at having you to herself just that tiny bit."

"Sarah, I..." I started, but my wife hushed me with her fingers to her lips.

"She told me she'd teach me to be like you needed," my wife continued. "She'd teach me to be a dominant ... and we tried ... god, how we tried. I left early every day for a week so I could sit in on one of her sessions. I watched her, tried to mimic her ... but I could never get the hang of it. I was always fighting myself. That's when we sat down and she told me that she didn't think I could do it; that being a domme wasn't really something you learned this late in life, it was something that was instilled in you early and that you had to be born with it to be good. I cried for a while ... then asked her to show me how to be a slave. If I couldn't be what you needed, I wanted to share what you did. She tried to talk me out of it ... but I wouldn't let her ... and she finally gave in."

"It was going well, I was learning to please her, to make love to her body with my mouth and my fingers. Oh, I fought it at first. I'd always been taught that two girls together were wrong ... but being a slave means being obedient, so I eventually gave in. It was ... startling. When I finally gave in, when I sucked my Mistress' pussy lips for the first time, drinking her ... I found that I really liked it. Her taste, the feel of her cumming in my mouth. It was ... divine. I came with her pussy spewing her sauce all over my face..."

"I was eating her when Megan caught us," Sarah whispered, looking over at my youngest sister. "Sylvia was sitting in her chair, her legs up on either side of the arms and I was servicing her with my mouth, when Megan burst in, screaming at us, asking us what the fuck we were doing. Mistress never even moved, she just turned to Megan and said 'I'm getting my cunt licked, what do you think I'm doing?' Megan didn't know what to say to that. She just stood there, looking at us; I'd stopped, but Mistress pulled me back into her cunt and told me to continue ... so I did. I had to obey my owner."

"Afterwards," Sarah chuckled, her eyes staring into mine "after I brought my Mistress to her orgasm, after I drank down her cum, it was bedlam. There was yelling and screaming and Megan was ranting and raving. Finally, though, the truth came out. Megan had caught you and Sylvia together the week before and now she found Sylvia and me together and she wasn't sure how to deal with it. She felt betrayed and hurt ... and horny and left out. Mistress explained and we talked ... and it turned out that Sylvia wasn't the only one who had lusted after you. I was feeling deeply worried because now I wasn't competing with just one of your sisters ... but two..."

"It was as we were sitting there, talking about you that we hatched this plan. Mistress told us your anniversary was coming and that she wanted it to be special. So we plotted and I took time off work because both Megan and I needed to be ready, needed to truly be ready to be slaves."

The room was spinning again or my mind was whirling or maybe it was both. Sarah had found that she really enjoyed being with a woman. I'd never managed to make her come without truly touching her. Our sex life was great - at least, I thought it was great - but I'd never heard her talk about our love-making that way. Had I really lost my wife?

"Do you..." I stuttered, my heart pounding its way through the wall of my chest. I couldn't say it, I couldn't say the words that might cost me my wife forever. I had to, though; the not knowing was killing me. I licked my lips, summoning all of my courage. "Do you ... want a divorce?"

Sarah just looked at me like I suddenly sprouted a second head. "Why would I want a divorce?" she questioned in reply. "David, I love you. Unconditionally. I did all of this, for you."

I felt my stomach untie itself and I almost shouted in relief. "When I heard you talking about ... about having sex with ... with Sylvia..."

"I don't have sex with Sylvia," Sarah interrupted. "We make love; just like the two of you do. I love her too, David. I love Sylvia as much as you do. But I love you and if I had to choose between the two of you, I'd choose you in a heartbeat and never look back. But don't you see? I don't have to choose. YOU don't have to choose. The three of us can be together."

"Four," Megan interjected and I quickly looked over at my youngest sister. She had been so quiet and I'd been so intent on my wife that I'd almost forgotten she was there.

"The four of us can be together," Megan offered to the question written on my face.

"Megan," I replied softly, my voice trying to be reasonable but Megan was having nothing to do with reasonable.

"There will be four of us, Davy," she insisted quietly, her face set. "You, Sarah, Sylvia and me. Mom and Dad won't mind; they've been talking about moving south for a while now and they trust the three of you. I've already got them half convinced to let me move in with Syl after the summer; these three months have been like a trial run. So there's going to be four of us in this relationship."

"Megan," I intoned, a look of stunned disbelief on my face. "Why would you even want to? I'm your brother and I'm older than you and..."

"You're Syl's brother too and that doesn't seem to stop you," Megan retorted. "And you're only 9 years older than me ... which isn't much. But mostly ... mostly it's because ... I love you ... I love you like a boyfriend or ... or ... or a husband..."

I started to reply that she was too young, that she had all the time in the world to find someone to be with but she just talked over me.

"I've never dated much, did you know that?" she questioned loudly. Then, when I stopped speaking, she went on in a much lower tone. "I've never wanted to and when I did try to date I kept using you as a ruler ... and none of them ever measured up. That's why I've never ... why I was a virgin until ... just now. I used to dream of our wedding; used to imagine me in a beautiful white gown and you in a tuxedo standing in front of a preacher and ... god ... I used to almost cum when he pronounced us man and wife. I've jilled-off for the past 5 years ... always to you. When you'd come home and hug me or kiss my forehead ... it was all I could do not to rip off my panties and show you how I really felt. You could just look at me and I'd get soaked. There were days, days when I knew you were going to be around, that I didn't even bother to wear panties because I figured what's the use ... I'm just going to be changing them over and over again."

"But, Megan, you're too..." I started but once again Megan just talked right over me.

"No buts, David," she interjected again. "I'm too young? A hundred fifty to two hundred years ago a woman was considered an old maid if she weren't married by 16. So I'm too what? Huh, David?? Do you think I'm too immature?"

"No, Meg," I replied loudly, my ire starting to rise. "It's not that, you're just..."

"I'm just what?" she interrupted yet again. "I'm just too irresponsible? I'm not able to make my own choices? What, David?"

"N ... No..." I stuttered, trying to gather my thoughts. "I ... I..."

"What is it, David? Huh?" my sister interrogated me, the blush of anger rising into her eyes. "Am I not beautiful enough? Do you think I'm ugly? Am I not sexy enough? You seemed to like my body a few minutes ago. Am I not smart enough? Am I not witty enough? What do you find so repugnant about me?"

"Nothing," I said immediately, wondering how I'd lost control of this conversation. "You're perfect..."

"If I'm perfect, then why don't you want me?" she inserted quickly. "What is your objection?"

"I ... I ... you're ... my sister..." I replied in a stutter. Sitting here, nude, in my sister's house, even I knew how lame I sounded. I'd had a handful of reasonable sounding objections no more than a moment before but now I had nothing. How had my sister disarmed me so easily?

I heard laughter from my right and turned to my wife. She was laughing freely, her eyes twinkling in mirth. "The big, bad lawyer," she explained between chuckles, "completely out-argued by his baby sister."

The laughter was infectious and I couldn't help but smile as I continued to wonder why my brain wouldn't work. I knew I should be furious, I should be arguing animatedly against my youngest sister becoming my lover, I should be saving face somehow. I knew, though, that I'd lost my argument. My youngest sister had taken every argument I could think of and torn them down like the house of cards they were.

"Just give up, David," Sarah continued, her laughter calming to giggles. "She's got you; there's no argument you can give that isn't going to sound silly. So, tell her. Tell her she can join us."

"You're okay with this?" I queried, astonished.

"Who do you think suggested it?" my wife replied quietly. The laughter was gone and there was a deep seriousness to her now. "They asked me if I was okay with sharing you one last time, with the two of them. Of course I said yes. I couldn't deny you or your sisters any more. When I heard them talking and plotting, though, I began to wonder why it had to be one last time. It's been a year since you started Submissive Tuesdays and your enthusiasm for it hasn't waned, so I knew that you'd be ... disappointed ... if it stopped. Besides, I found - much to my surprise - that I didn't mind sharing you. Just as long as I was included. That was what hurt me most, I think; that you had this part of you that I couldn't share," she held up her hand as I was about to object, "I know that it's mostly my fault; that I told you I didn't want to hear about it. But ... god ... for so long it just ate at me. I didn't want to go back to how things were; I still don't. Once I found out everything about them, I couldn't go back to just ignoring Tuesdays any longer."

"So we planned this," Mistress injected. I had been so intent on the conversation that I hadn't even noticed her return. "With the option, if you found it agreeable, of making it permanent."

"Mistress," we all said, almost as one. I didn't watch the other two, but I bowed respectfully.

"No," she said firmly. She knelt on the floor a few feet away and I realized that we were in a strange circle of sorts. "We're not in a scene and we need to talk this through ... as, more or less, equals. We have decisions to make. Let's just time out for now."

I looked back up to my Mistress ... my sister ... and nodded my head slowly. Sylvia smiled at me, a line of worry still creasing her brow. We were on the very edge of coming to an agreement of sorts but none of us knew exactly what that agreement entailed. I laughed a bit ruefully at how the tables were getting all turned around; Megan and Sarah were supposed to be the dutiful slaves but here they were leading us around by the noses.

"I heard Megan's ... argument and I had to laugh," Syl chuckled quietly. "That's how she got me to agree to her ... requests. I'm surprised she's so easy to dominate, honestly. I think she might just argue better than you do."

"Cards on the table?" she asked, after a moment's pause. Everyone just nodded. "I'm ... retiring. Or taking a break or ... whatever. I was only taking Kali's light subs anyway, ones who are like you - mostly dominant but wanting to be subs for a little while; some light BDSM cases, too. Kali is ... well, she's really hard core about this. She's a true domme and thought maybe I could do it too; but I guess I'm not as dominant as she'd hoped. So, when she told me that she'd found the sub she wanted to be with for the rest of her life it just seemed to be the time."

"Besides," she continued, her eyes moving to study the floor, "I've got med school coming up in the fall and I won't have time for this. I've saved most of the money I've made in the past two years or so; I should have enough for med school and to keep me going until my residency is over in a few years."

She looked back up and there were tears in her eyes. "But I think I'm just as addicted to this as you are; as you all seem to be. I don't think I can give up our Tuesdays together. I don't want to. I think we can work out a way where we're all happy."

"I think this could work," Syl said earnestly. "Us. The four of us, together, just like I asked you earlier. Sarah and Megan could be your slaves and you could be mine ... at least some of the time. Other times, you and I'd be ... equals ... partners." She chuckled as her hands moved nervously in her lap. The simple wringing motion of those hands unnerved me; I'd been coming to see Sylvia as my Mistress for a year now and she'd always been in charge - she always projected firm control. Seeing her nervous, unsure of herself, was something relatively new for me, at least in recent memory, and yet it just seemed to make me love her all the more; it reminded me of the little girl I used to babysit. It brought out a protective side of me that I'd buried during our sessions together. No matter our other relationships, Sylvia was still my sister and it was still my job to protect her. "I don't want to be your Mistress all the time, Davy. Sometimes, it's exhausting and ... it's a job. I don't mind working sometimes when I'm with you ... just not all the time."