The Benefits of Friends - Cover

The Benefits of Friends

Copyright© 2012 by Memory Heap

Chapter 41: A Meeting of Minds, a Joining of Souls

Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 41: A Meeting of Minds, a Joining of Souls - We had been best friends since the day she was born. We had grown up together, played together, and learned together. Now, she was proposing that we teach each other about sex.

Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   mt/Fa   Fa/Fa   ft/ft   Fa/ft   Consensual   NonConsensual   Spanking   Light Bond   First   Oral Sex   Masturbation   Petting   Sex Toys   Exhibitionism  

True to their word, our mothers had taken over the organizing of the day, and there had been little for us to do. In effect, we needed to show up and get dressed up, then say a few words—everything else had been organized. The ceremony and reception would all take place in the combined backyards of our two houses. Our fathers had removed sections of the fence between the two yards, effectively combining them into one, and the pool had been temporarily decked over, ensuring that no one would accidentally get wet.

A small tent had been erected with a raised platform for us and the officiant to use for the formal ceremony. A larger tent covering the tables had been set up for the meal and dancing at the reception, but it was likely that it would be mostly taken down, since there was no rain and little wind in the forecast.

Our mothers had also firmly dictated that tradition would be followed, and that we were not permitted to sleep with each other the night before the wedding. I was told point-blank by both mothers that I was not permitted to see the bride on the day of the wedding until she walked up the aisle. We barely managed to get in some groping and fondling the night before with the two mothers watching us like hawks. It almost seemed that they were out to protect her virginity until we were married, but they both knew that they were about three years too late.

With the festivities of the rehearsal and its dinner over, I walked her to her back door, then stopped with my arms around her, holding her tightly to me. I leaned over to put my face in her hair, inhaling the fresh scent of her, and kissed the top of her head. When I pulled back slightly, her eyes were raised to meet my lowered ones, and I smiled tenderly at her. "There's still time for us to run away screaming from all of this. We could hop a bus to Vegas and get married in an Elvis chapel."

She grinned at the image, then frowned a little. "I'd love to just chuck it all in and elope, but I think our mothers would hunt us to the ends of the earth, and we would be disowned forever."

I chuckled ruefully, "I think you're probably right. Ah well, regardless of how it goes, when the day is over tomorrow, we will be married forever, and the world will finally know how much in love we are, and what kind of bond exists between us, and that the bond is real and has been from the day this all started. I think it's the freedom and acceptance I'm looking forward to, as much as simply being with you for the rest of my life."

She hugged me tightly. "Somehow, I think that most men would not tend to look upon marriage as freeing them, but something quite the opposite."

"True, but none of them get to marry you, and my outlook is clouded by the fact that I am a loutish brute, one who is misogynistic, chauvinistic, and possessed of a low intelligence, so therefore I obviously don't know any better, and should be happy to accept whatever woman is willing to take me."

She laughed in obvious glee, then reached up to kiss me quickly. "Well, it's taken three years, but the message has finally sunk in. Now that you understand your place in things, I will accept to marry you tomorrow, but you do have to promise to remember who rules in this relationship."

"I can see that I need to have that paddle out in plain sight tomorrow, so that I can administer the first of many matrimonial spankings."

She nestled into my arms again, and said, "I love it when you get all manly and masterful."

"I love you too, even when you are being insubordinate and using that wicked tongue for other than pleasurable purposes."

"I wish I could put this wicked tongue to work right now, and so could you. I think getting married is making me horny."

"I would opine, from past experience, that breathing makes you horny."

She giggled as she said, "I didn't think I was that obvious."

"Trust me, my love, after three years as lovers, I can usually tell when the urge is moving you. We should probably say goodnight for now, or else one of our mothers will come looking for us. Go on in and use one of the toys to deal with your condition, and I'll go home and think about what you look like when you're coming."

"I don't think that I need any toys—you forgot that I've got company with me tonight."

"That's true. I forgot that you and Clara and my slave had something planned. Are both of them spending the night?"

"I know Clara is, but I'm not sure about your slave. I'm not quite sure what they've got planned, but knowing those two I should probably be prepared for anything."

I chuckled for a moment, thinking about the kinds of hijinks the women could get up to. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it won't be hurtful in any way. You know they both love you. They just like to have a little fun."

"Yeah, at my expense, usually."

I lifted her up to my height so we could kiss each other deeply, then lowered her back to her feet, and caressed her wonderful rear as she turned for the door. When she was safely in for the night, I left for my own house, pausing in the dark of the yard to adjust my erection so that it wouldn't be noticeable.

Thinking of her in a state of orgasm turned out to not be a good idea, as I couldn't get to sleep. I finally gave up and took myself in hand, reflecting that after tonight I probably would never need to do this again, as I would likely always have a willing, if not demanding, assistant.


The crowds had assembled, and the seats were filled, mostly with friends from high school and university, as our families were relatively small. Our collective parents had invited some close friends of their own, people we had got to know, if only slightly, while we were growing up. There were a sprinkling of business associates from each family, and I had even invited a few of my colleagues from my development job. She had invited a few of the nurses and hospital staff that she had come to know, so all in all there was a mixed, somewhat eclectic group in attendance.

The pair that would have probably surprised or shocked many of the rest was Rhonda and her former slave, now my secret slave. The two of them were part of our family, in effect, even if their main claim to belonging was the amount of sex we all had together, or the bonds that existed among all of us. They had both been a part of our sexual education, and therefore our maturation into adulthood.

Another part of the strange mix was Clara, who was the Maid of Honour to my bride, while her own love, Jason, would be standing as my Best Man. I was fairly certain that the next wedding we would be attending would be theirs, and this time the roles would be reversed, with my love and I standing for Jason and Clara.

My fiancée had decided that Clara should design her own dress to wear for the festivities, and I was looking forward to see what she had come up with. In the past she had appeared in little more than body paint adorned with wisps of cloth, and I was sure she wouldn't hesitate to be as adventurous for this occasion. Jason and I would be wearing traditional tuxedoes of matching grey, in order to not detract from the bright plumage of the women.

I wandered through the crowd before the ceremonies, greeting people here and there, mainly heading toward two of the most important women in my life. Rhonda was dressed in a gorgeous blue suit, and looked better and more formal than I had ever seen her. Her cane was entirely absent, so I knew she was also wearing a pair of her custom-made boots that dealt with the difference in the length of her legs. I gave her a tight hug and a deep kiss, and told her how glad I was to see her. With an evil grin she threatened to say something at the appropriate part of the ceremony, pointing out how much of a smartass the groom could be, and offering an opinion as to whether or not the ceremony should proceed.

My slave, on the other hand, was radiant in a suit made of gleaming white leather atop a pair of white boots tooled with silver tracings. The top of her suit was cut to show flashes of skin as she moved, and its skirt had a slit that ran up one side all the way to her hip. It was blatantly obvious that between her body and the leather there was nothing but air. I smiled to myself as I noticed every male eye in the crowd watching her surreptitiously. Most of the women, on the other hand, seemed to want to scratch her eyes out.

When I approached her, I came up on her from behind to ensure that she wouldn't decide to strip and drop to her knees. As I wrapped my arms around her, I spoke quietly into her ear. "I want you to remain clothed today, little one, at least as far as those few pieces of leather cover you. And I do not want you on your knees, unless I specifically tell you to assume that position."

She spun into me, and smiled. "Master, you are trying to take away all of my fun. I should be on my knees, collared and cuffed beside you as you take your own little slave to be my sister in service to you."

I saw that she was wearing the necklace I had given to her, and I looped a finger under it, pulling her in a little closer. "You are collared, little one, and because of that I expect you to obey me, today of all days. Understand?"

Her eyes lowered, and her expression lost its gleefulness. "Yes, Master. I am sorry for causing you any concern. I will await your punishment, Master."

I did not want to take away from the joy of the day, so I used the finger in her chain to raise her chin, forcing her to look at me. "I have no interest in submitting you to physical pain of any kind, my little slave. However, since you raise the matter of punishment, I think I can fill your need."

I thought I detected a slight trace of fear crossing her face, so I leaned forward to give her a quick kiss. "Your punishment for today, little one, is to torment every male at this ceremony. I want you to smile, and flirt, and touch, and make every one of the men think they might have a chance to take you somewhere private and have their way with you. I am sure you were well trained in how to play the game; show me how good you are."

She smiled up at me, and said, "You are a wickedly cruel and inventive master." I felt her hand close on my penis and start massaging it, but she had skillfully positioned herself so that no one could see what she was doing. "Should I go this far, Master, or should I save this particular treatment for you alone?"

"You are so close to being stripped and paddled, and I think you know that, and are attempting to goad me. You need to be careful, little one."

Her hand quickly withdrew, and she smiled again. "I would say that I am sorry, Master, but you would know that I am not. You know that I like your body, and your cock, and I will try to get you to use me whenever I can. You are an excellent lover as well as a most interesting master, and the temptation to tease you into using me is just too strong."

"Ah, little one, you know I love you, but please try not to go too far. I would hate to see one of these people think you're some kind of hooker."

"Do not worry, Master. I know the limits, and I will stay within them." She kissed me deeply, and hugged me tightly, then whispered, "Except maybe where you are concerned, Master," in my ear, and spun out of my embrace.

I watched her move through the crowd, smiling and greeting each man she came near, and I knew that, for her, the game had now begun. As I followed her movements, I felt a presence beside me, and turned to see my Dad. His eyes were also following my slave, and I knew he was about to say something.

"Okay son, spill. Who is that amazing woman?"

"Which amazing woman? There are some real beauties here."

"You know exactly who I mean ... the one in the white leather that's showing more skin than the cow she's wearing."

I nearly burst out laughing at the description, but answered him. "I don't know, Dad. She may be too much woman for you."

"Yeah, yeah, right. Who is she?"

"She's my slave ... or more accurately, she's one of my slaves."

I heard a choking noise beside me, and turned to see my Dad with his mouth open and a pop-eyed expression on his face. I grinned at him, waiting for the shock to pass, and he finally managed to get hold of his emotions. "O-one ... one ... one of your slaves? One! Of your slaves? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Well, technically, I suppose she's my only full-time slave right now. She freed her own slave, so I've lost that one from the collection. And of course, my bride-to-be is only my slave when I collar her."

My Dad's expression hardly changed for a long moment; he stood next to me with his eyes wide open, staring at me. I got the impression he was waiting for me to give him the punch line to the joke I had started to tell. When he hadn't said anything after another minute I decided that it might be time to give him a demonstration.

"I can see you're having some trouble with the concept. Would you like some proof?"

My comment finally shook him loose from his trance. "Proof? What do you mean?"

"One sec." I looked around the yard, and spotted my slave flirting with a couple of men. I caught her eye, and waved her over, then watched as she excused herself from the group and came over. My Dad's eyes followed her all the way.

"Yes, Master ... is there some service I can do for you?"

"Yes, little one, you may. Please explain to this gentleman who you are, and what our relationship happens to be."

"Certainly, Master." She turned to face my father, clasping her hands behind her back, and in a very matter-of-fact voice said, "I am a slave, and therefore have no name of any consequence. My Master, who stands beside you, calls me by a pet name; others would know me simply as 'slave', or to other slaves I am 'Mistress.' As a slave, I am the property of my Master, and must fulfill his every request, or suffer whatever punishment he determines is appropriate.

"I would normally wear a collar around my neck as a symbol of my status since I would have been claimed by my Master. In my case, I pledged myself to my Master, so he placed this necklace on me as the symbol of my status. It can only be removed by him, but he cannot release me unless I agree, and I doubt that day will ever come. He is also the best Master I have ever had."

She turned her head toward me, and raised an eyebrow in question. I smiled at her and said, "Well done, little one. You could not have said it any better ... and for the record, I also hope that you decide not to request your release from me."

Her expression said it all, but she stepped up to me and wrapped her arms around me tightly. I held her while I looked at my father and asked, "Was that sufficient, or do you need more proof?"

"I ... uh ... I don't know what to say ... it's like I'm just meeting you for the first time. Are you really my son, and is this all just some kind of elaborate joke?"

I had a wicked thought, and I whispered in my slave's ear for a moment. She pulled back and smiled at me. "You are devious, my Master, but I think it will be fun." She kissed me quickly, then moved to my father and wrapped her arms around him, plastering herself tightly to his body. A moment later I saw him give a start and look sharply at her. She stared into his eyes and smiled a little mysteriously. To my eyes, they simply seemed to be in a tight embrace.

Looking at them, I chuckled a little, then laughed out loud when she turned her head to me and said, "His cock is nice and hard, Master, and seems to be about the same size as yours. I can feel the family resemblance."

My Dad's face was getting kind of flushed, likely from the massage his penis was receiving, and he actually blushed red when she asked him, "Would you like me to suck it for you? I would hate to see you under any kind of sexual tension, and I'm sure I can take care of this in short order." His jaw dropped open again, and I laughed even harder at his expression.

I decided that it might be time to put an end to the torment. "I think we've done enough to my poor father, little one. Let him go so he's got time to calm down before the rest of the guests get here."

"Yes, Master. As you wish." She smiled at him, then kissed him hard before she stepped back and moved to my side.

"So, Dad, are you convinced now?"

He shook his head, then focused on me once again. "This ... this ... beautiful woman would do anything you told her to do, regardless of what it was?"

"Dad ... you're still not getting it ... if I told her to strip, she would be out of her clothes in two seconds, and it might not take that long because I know that she's not wearing very much." Before I could say anything, she had pulled her top open and was on the way to dropping it on the ground. I growled, "Enough, slave. I told you to stay dressed today."

"Yes, Master. I'm sorry, Master." She started pulling herself together again, and I looked around to make sure that no one else had seen her little show. I cast a glance at my Dad, and saw that he was now staring at her, watching raptly while she fastened her top, slowly covering her beautiful breasts.

I put a hand on his shoulder, and chuckled. "It's okay, Dad. You can look all you want. She won't mind, although Mom might not agree. I have no intention of telling her, so there's no harm done." When she was covered up again, I took her hand to bring her beside me so I could wrap an arm around her. She pressed closely to my side and draped an arm over my shoulder, watching my father and me.

"Obviously there's some kind of story here ... how did you end up owning a slave? I knew that you said you had experimented with bondage and domination ... but slavery?"

I grinned at him and gave my slave a squeeze. "Well, you can probably appreciate that it's a long story, but my slave and I met the first summer that my bride-to-be and I started having sex. You see, my slave here owns an adult toy store, and we had gone there to buy a few things. One thing led to another, and my beautiful possession here ended up teaching me how to use a whip. That led to an incident after which she decided to pledge herself to me as my slave. Quite some time later, I discovered that she had actually been a slave before, that time to the woman who was now our landlady. I arranged to re-unite the two of them, and for that she pledged herself to me for life."

My Dad still had an incredulous expression on his face as he looked directly at her. "You really did that ... pledged yourself to him?"

She smiled almost wistfully, then kissed me on the cheek before she answered. "Yes, I did. Your son is the most dominant man I have ever met, but at the same time he has a romantic heart, which makes him the kindest Master I have ever known. He actually cares about me, enough that he has tried to release me as his slave. I refused him that time, and will refuse him again if it ever happens. I was a free woman when I pledged myself to him, so he cannot actually let me go. The bond between us is as deep as the one between him and my slave sister, who will become his wife today."

The puzzled look still hadn't gone away. "He said you used to be a slave to... ?"

"Yes, to my former Mistress, who now happens to own the house where your son lives. To use a cliché, it is a small world." She smiled widely. "I think she would almost like to be one of his slaves, because she really likes what he has done for her."

'Uh-oh, dangerous ground coming up, ' I thought. Before I could say anything, she answered my father's quizzical look.

"My Mistress has quite fallen for your son and his fiancée. She says they have brought life back to her house, and to her as well. She says that your son is the best lover she has had since she freed me and I moved away." She felt me tense up as she finished speaking, and I saw her look turn serious as she fixed my gaze with hers. "Master ... have I spoken out of turn?" She started to drop to her knees, but I caught her before she got too far. She stepped back out of my embrace and put her hands behind her back. Her eyes lowered, and she quietly said, "Master, I have revealed information that you wished kept secret. I am deeply sorry that I have offended you, and submit myself for your punishment."

Out of the corner of my eye I could see my father's head whipping back and forth as he tried to follow the exchange. His mouth was still open from hearing about Rhonda and me as lovers; watching my slave turn into a complete submissive, asking for punishment, was threatening to overload his senses. I ignored my slave for a moment, deciding that getting back on an even keel with my Dad was more important for the moment.

"Yes, Dad. Rhonda and I have had sex. Several times, in fact. And yes, she's old enough to be my mother, but she's also a dynamic, witty and smart woman. She and I have become very close friends, and she has helped me out with a few personal issues. She keeps me straight, and we have had some good laughs together."

"But ... your fiancée... ?"

"My fiancée knows all about my time with Rhonda. She and Rhonda swim together several times a week, and bathing suits are never worn. They quite typically have sex with each other by the pool, and the noise they make often wakes me up—they like to swim early in the morning." Now his eyes were threatening to bug out of his head; I really hadn't wanted to get into this discussion, especially not today, and especially not to this depth, this quickly. I took a deep breath, and knew that I had to meet the issue head on.

"Dad ... you have to realize that lifestyles have changed, and they've certainly become more complicated. What we're doing is really not that far out of line, especially for people who love each other, and care about each other. Veronica here may be my slave, but that's more a state of mind; we also love each other, and care for each other very deeply. The bond between her and Rhonda is even deeper; Rhonda quite literally saved her life. Veronica turned around and did the same thing for Clara.

"I kind of stumbled into all of this, but my intentions were always honourable. I got Rhonda back together with her former slave, and the two of them have never stopped thanking me. Sex just kind of got thrown into the midst of it all. It just happens that we're all very sexual creatures, and that is one of the ways we express our love for each other. Age doesn't matter, and jealousy doesn't even enter into it. We all love each other, and just happen to express that love physically."

I could see my father pondering what I had said, so to give him time I reached out to bring my slave back into my arms. She had a truly sad expression on her face, and I knew that she was feeling quite sorry for what had transpired. I was put in mind of what happened when Clara had revealed similar information about my slave to my fiancée. In the end, everything had worked out, as this would; the truth would ultimately come out, and there would never be a good time for it. I brought my face to hers, meeting her eyes. I could see the tears glistening in them.

"Master, I am so sorry for speaking out. I should have respected that you might not want to reveal your relationship to my Mistress. Please, Master, you must punish me for what I have done."

I cupped the side of her face, and kissed her tears away. "No, little one. There is no harm done. Today should be a happy day. I do not want to see you sad. You are beautiful when you smile, and when you are at your most mischievous. I want to see that side of you today."

Her eyes showed the beginnings of a smile, and I kissed her tenderly. "I love you, even when you are being an uppity slave. Now go back to teasing the men and making the women want to scratch your eyes out."

Her smile widened as she leaned back in for another kiss. "Yes, Master. Should I start by teasing your father some more?"

I glanced over at my Dad, who was watching us closely. "Somehow, I don't know if his heart could take any more of your teasing today. Better give him a break, I think."

She stepped back out of my arms, but ignored my words and moved to embrace my father. She smiled up at him. "You have raised an amazing son, and you should be proud of him. Do not let these revelations bother you, for they are all part of who he is. You and your wife are very lucky people." She kissed him, then stepped back and spun away to go and mingle once more.

I moved to look him in the eye as I asked, "Are we okay Dad? I know it's a bit much to take in, but I'm still just your son, and I'd hate to have you think any less of me."

He straightened up and smiled ruefully at me. "I feel like I've been hit with a club, but I'm also amazed to learn that the man these women think so highly of is my son, and I have to take some pride in that. I'll admit, it sounds like you're living every man's fantasy, but if it works for you, then I'm fine with it." I stepped up to put my hands on his shoulders and embrace him, then moved back and grinned at him. He smiled at me, then said, "But, please, do not tell your mother about what your slave offered to do for me. That would get both of us in serious trouble."

I chuckled and replied, "Well, you know, she would just as easily do the same for Mom, so it might all balance out."

"No. Definitely not. Do not even suggest that. As much as it might fuel my fantasies, I will not be the one to suggest anything to your mother."

His consternation made me laugh, and I told him I would not suggest anything to anyone. I felt as if we had regained the even keel we had started with, so all seemed once again correct in my world.


At the appropriate moment, Jason and I arranged ourselves in front of the officiant, then turned as we heard the first notes of the music, signaling the entry of the women. I saw Clara first, wearing the dress that she had designed herself; she looked stunningly radiant. I felt Jason puffing up a little beside me, and I glanced at him with a bit of a smirk. He shrugged his shoulders as if to say, 'What can I do? I love her and she's beautiful.'

Behind Clara a vision suddenly appeared, on the arm of her father. In that instant, all of the other people disappeared. There was only one person for me, and she was smiling at me, and walking toward me, and I knew we would be together for the rest of our lives, regardless of what happened here today. Her dress was off-white, the colour of old lace, with ruffles that framed her face and descended to a deep décolletage, then fit tightly at her waist before spreading out again. It almost looked like a corset except for the deep plunge in the front. Around her neck was a band of lace, like a choker, and I was immediately put in mind of a collar, although I felt the significance would be lost on most of the people there.

As she reached me, her father handed her off, and I took her hand in mine. "I love you," I whispered. "And you are beautiful." She giggled quickly, then squeezed my hand and moved beside me.

The officiant put out her arms to signal everyone to sit, then began the service. We had decided to have a sort of traditional but non-religious service, and had actually written most of what we would be saying. Since someone needed to have the actual power to perform a marriage, and certain words needed to be spoken for legal purposes, that meant that parts of the ceremony were pre-ordained, but the rest was pretty much up to us.

After the initial greetings, and the explanation of what was happening, it became our turn to pledge ourselves to one another. With her in heels, we could almost look each other in the eye. She stepped closer to me, then raised her right hand and placed it on my chest, palm flat, exactly as she had done the day she proposed our first research project. I smiled at her, and I saw in her expression that she knew that I had grasped the significance of her gesture. In a very clear voice, although this time with at least a modicum of emotion, she began to speak.

"Three years ago, I invited you to embark on a journey of learning with me. Today, I join you on a journey that will last until the end of our lives together. We have been friends, and lovers, we are soul mates, and now we are to be morally and legally joined in front of friends, and family. I pledge to you my life, my love, my respect and my soul in times of joy and sadness and wealth and poverty. I make this promise in front of all these witnesses, and I bind myself to you for the rest of my life." A tear rolled down her cheek, but neither her gaze nor her voice wavered as she recited the vows. I could hear sobbing coming from parts of the assembled group, but didn't turn my head to see who it was; my eyes remained locked with hers.

I raised a hand to cover hers on my chest, swallowed and started to speak. "I have known you forever, and you have been my friend since birth. I have loved you from the day you invited me on the incredible journey. You are the best friend I have ever had, and the only lover I will ever want. You are a part of my soul, you are the air that I breathe. I will love you forever, regardless of health, wealth, or status. I am bound to you for all time, and I pledge to love you, to honour you, and to respect you for the rest of my life." We smiled at each other, each knowing that it really would be for the rest of our lives.

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