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HIM

Back in my room I stripped as quickly as possible, leaving my clothes where they fell. I was almost overwhelmed by a compulsion to get clean. I took a very long, very hot shower and I turned the taps all the way on; the temperature reddened my skin and the water stung my scalp like liquid needles. Then I scrubbed myself as if I was trying to shed my skin. When my thoughts about the evenings events threatened to engulf my mind I turned the hot water off and stood masochistically under the freezing cascade until I shivered and my teeth chattered.

Only with the water off, and when the friction of a towel was returning warmth to my body, did I try to analyse my thoughts and, hard to believe, my feelings. Why did a feel so……..unclean? The party had been a huge success, eventually, I was sure of that. A bullet had been dodged when the undercover reporter had been discovered. There would now be no fallout over that. Then I turned over in my mind the thoughts I realised I had been trying to avoid.

Firstly I had discovered in the past few hours that Mary was my mother. My initial reaction had been joy as I realised that my father’s cold and distant wife was not my mother. Since that moment I guess other emotions had started to seep up from the compost of my subconscious. I had lost my virginity with Mary, I had been fucking her since I was sixteen. That meant I was, literally, a ‘motherfucker’.

Then I thought how many times I had seen Mary ‘serve’ at my father’s parties. I had seen her used many times, as a casual fuck-toy and cum dump. I’d seen her gang-banged like Alice had been this evening. But, unlike Alice, I knew Mary had genuinely enjoyed being treated that way. Many times I’d enjoyed sinking my cock into her well fucked cunt or arse (I’d always enjoyed that slippery feeling) and enjoyed the unmistakable sounds of her pleasure and the exquisite sensations of her orgasms as I added to the overflowing loads inside her.

So now I knew my mother was Mary, the kinky serving girl slut, not Estelle the frigid millionaire’s daughter. How did that make me feel about Mary? How did that make me feel about ME?

‘Confused’ was the answer to my own question, so I put that subject in the ‘too hard’ basket and turned my thoughts to Bailey.

As I did this I had to face the aftermath of the fact that, not to put too much of a fine point on it, I had fucked my sister. I’d discovered that I had been fucking my mother for years, but only the two of us knew about that. But I had fucked my sister in front of a crowd, fucked her in the arse, claimed her as my whore, made her proclaim her whoredom to everyone in the room. But, being ruthlessly honest with myself, I realised that this wasn’t the problem. Definitions of ‘normal’ within my circle of friends were on a completely different plane to the average person. I guessed that my guests were so used to kink that they wouldn’t be judgemental. They all had too many foibles of their own to do that. They were more likely to be shocked because it was out of character for me to be so public at a party, rather than be shocked that it was with my sister.

I had to face the facts. I was not troubled because I had fucked my sister, well not too much. I felt sullied and dirty and wrong because Kat had seen me fuck my sister. Why was that a problem? I didn’t know the answer to my own question.

Kat — was she the problem?

Then all these thoughts were driven from my mind by a timid knock at my door

HER

As Bastion swept from the room where the party had been held I felt dazed by what I had just witnessed. The whole evening had been like something out of a fever dream for me. But what Bastion had just done to Bailey had left me without the mental capacity to process my emotions. I looked around at the guests to see if they were as shocked as me. With the host having left so precipitously it was obvious that the party was over and everyone was making ready to leave, gathering clothes and dressing. As they did so I was surprised that their smiles, laughter and the buzz of happy conversation seemed to indicate that they had all had a good time. It certainly didn’t seem Anadolu Yakası Escort they were shocked by what had happened. I almost felt like they, or I, were part of a different species if our reactions could be at such variance.

I knelt on my cushion beside Mary as one by one the guests stopped to thank her before they left. I risked the occasional glance at them and was shocked to recognise some of them from TV and politics. I was also shocked at the genuine enthusiasm in their thanks. Nearly every one of them told Mary how it had been the best party ‘for years’. The cabinet minister I recognised rushed on to explain that they were all fun, but that this one had been ‘special’. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. The ‘Formula One Guy’ (as I thought of him), whose face was familiar from previous appearances in the press, was effusive in his thanks, even though he had nearly been in the tabloid papers all over again. These people had seen a man flog, then fuck, his sister – and they were saying how much they looked forward to the next party? These people weren’t from another species — they were from another fucking planet!

I saw the security guy getting instructions from Mary and shortly afterwards I saw him helping the reporter down from the ‘sore horse’, before escorting him from the premises. The reporter walked ever so tentatively, limping slowly. Then Mary signalled to Barton to take over and clear the last guests. She took me by the hand and gently pulled me to my feet.

“Now we need to take care of you child.” She said with a gentle smile. Without releasing my hand she led me up a flight of stairs and down a short corridor. The room we entered was a large and beautifully decorated bedroom. She opened another door to reveal a luxurious bathroom.

“Let’s get you cleaned up quickly dear.” She said. “It wouldn’t do to keep our Lord waiting now would it?”

She turned away to start the huge shower, adjusting the heat. I noticed the change of terminology now that the party was over. ‘Bastion’ was once again ‘Lord La Motte’ again, our joint Lord and Master. It was funny how that thought no longer seemed strange to me, how quickly I was adjusting and accepting.

When the shower was the correct temperature she came back to my side, looking me up and down in a way that made me blush. She laughed at my reaction and fluffed my hair with her fingers as she explained,

“Just seeing what needs doing dear, not much time.” Then she added. “Your hair is fine, which is lucky as we don’t have time to wash and dry it.” Then she made me jump by brushing her hands over my breasts, gently touching the angry red marks left by the candle wax. She examined them with a look of sympathy.

“Bailey can be such a bitch.” She stated sadly, then smiled, “but maybe she’ll be different from now on.” I didn’t know what to say to that.

Bending forwards she examined the stripes on my thighs. Delicately tracing the lines with her finger tips, causing goose-bumps in profusion. Then she smiled at me.

“You must be so proud of such lovely stripes.” The way she phrased it I couldn’t be sure if it was a question or a statement. She must have seen the puzzlement on my face as she added

“Proud because you took them so well, that you didn’t let your Master down. They are a badge of honour for any good submissive. And I know that you are a good submissive.” Then she closed her eyes and shivered as she recalled what happened. I could hear the capital letters in her voice when she spoke of Bastion.

“Plus it was so delicious to see you, hear you, cum when He cropped your clit. I know that will have pleased Him.’

I was shocked at this thought, and at the same time strangely pleased.

“Do you really think so?” I asked.

“Oh, I am sure of it.” She assured me. “Now jump in the shower, hurry. Don’t get your hair wet.”

I stepped into the shower cubicle and luxuriated under the steaming water, eyes closed — until the welts on my legs started to sting. I bit my lip to stifle a sob — then forgot my pain as I felt Mary, naked now, get into the shower with my and wrap her arms around me. My eyes flew open and Anadolu Yakası Escort Bayan I saw her smiling at me.

“Four hands will get you clean quicker than two.” She told me and kissed me gently on the lips. The electricity that flashed between us was startling and I heard a moan — I couldn’t tell if it came from her or me. With an effort one of us pulled out of the kiss and Mary took soap and a sponge and began to clean me delightfully, taking care to be as gentle as possible with my ‘badges of honour’.

The lash stripes on my back barely hurt anymore but the crop marks on my thighs stung. Mary distracted me once again by gently yet unexpectedly running her finger tips over my pussy.

“We might be able to get away without washing your hair, but we must never skimp on this. He does like his sluts to have smooth cunts.” It was peculiar that these words didn’t sound dirty coming from Mary.

“Is that how you see yourself? Are you his ‘slut’ Mary?” I asked, scared I was being rude in asking.

She wasn’t angry at my question. “Yes dear.” She answered, without shame.

“First and foremost that is what I am. I am also……..many other things as well.” She added, in a slightly strange voice. Then she steered me gently out of the shower’s stream and knelt on the floor. On the rim around the shower was a can of shaving foam and a new razor. The white foam was squirted into her hand and when she smoothed it over my…..’cunt’, (Mary had taught me the right term and it seemed appropriate to start using it,)

I couldn’t help whimpering when the razor’s blade was dragged over my sensitive skin and I felt my thighs start shaking. Then a delicate finger pushed aside my labia for a caress of the blade and I felt my cunt flood with moistness. With exquisite care, or cruelty, Mary manoeuvred the hard nub of my clitoris out of harm’s way or the last few efficient strokes of the razor.

She stood up and announced, “There you are, very ready for Master.” The smile that played on her lips told me that she fully intended the single entendre.

When I was dry (at least on the outside) she sat me in front of a well lit mirror and knelt before me to begin to expertly applying make-up. It was a master class in everything I had been doing wrong up till now. Her understated, ‘less is more’ technique enhanced my appearance till I was amazed at how different I looked, but even to the most critical observer it would appear that I was completely, ‘au naturel’.

When the make up was finished she gently, ever so gently, rubbed cream into my stripes. I could see the sympathy in her eyes when I winced. Then she started to try and explain.

“You know that he isn’t really cruel, it’s just that he believes to the core of his being that traditions are important, that the rules must be obeyed. Even when he is the one who makes the rules, he can’t even bend them’ let alone break them…….”

I gently (and boldly) laid my finger on Mary’s lips and whispered the words that were already engraved on my heart, “I accept and submit.”

As I spoke those words I saw the joyful tears well in her lovely eyes, at the same time as a tremulous smile swelled beneath my finger. She knew the source of those words, recognised my heartfelt acceptance of their meaning and wordlessly acknowledged our strange sisterhood by taking my hand and kissing it.

Mary dabbed her eyes and rose, seemingly effortlessly, from her knees to her feet in a way that made me envious. “Come, have a look at these.”

She showed me some nightwear she had picked out for me. Laid on her bed were various frothy, lacy bits of nothing. I swear that one even had marabou feathers. Mary was about the same size as me, if a little less busty, so I was sure they would fit, but I just didn’t like much of what I saw. I did see a lovely pair of white lace knickers which I slipped on quickly, making me feel a little more comfortable in front of Mary. After all we had done together it was strange that I felt shy, but I couldn’t help it that modesty was so deeply ingrained in my psyche.

Then I noticed something hanging in her wardrobe and, feeling suddenly bold, Escort Anadolu Yakası I stepped past her and took the simple cream coloured gown from its hanger. I held it against me and felt the luxury of the silk on my skin, making me shiver. A wordless question was asked with a glance and answered in the affirmative with a barely perceptible nod. I slipped the gown over my head and it slithered sensuously over my body.

I turned to study myself in the mirror and was pleased with the image reflected. The hem trailed on the floor but the material clung to my body all the way down, just transparent enough without being too revealing. Despite the Grecian cut neckline my breasts strained against the material and rubbed my nipples to a tantalising hardness. In the mirror I could see Mary behind me, nodding her head.

“Yes child, that is perfect. He will love that.” She laughed. “It seems you already know what He wants better than I do.”

I could hear the tinge of sadness in her voice, and her laugh, and I impulsively turned to hug the older woman. For a second she made as if to push me away, then sighed and took me her in her arms. With a hand gently against my cheek she drew me to her breast for an instant. Then she stepped back and cradled my face between both hands, studying me.

“Yes, you will do.”

She kissed me on the forehead, nose, and lips. Then she took my hand, announcing.

“We mustn’t keep our Master waiting.” Then with an enigmatic smile she took my hand and added. “Let me lead you to his ‘lair’. There you will enter uncharted territory alone”

I wondered at her words all the way to an imposingly large door. Mary indicated that it was my destination with an inclination of her head. With my knees literally knocking I approached the door and, not knowing what else to do, I knocked.

HIM

I opened the door to reveal a frozen tableau. Kat stood in front of my looking delectable but at the same time like a defenceless creature caught in the glare of oncoming headlights. I found the mixture of fear and nervousness visible on her face strangely arousing. Then, after sensing Kat’s immobility, Mary gently pushed her in the middle of the back and the girl stepped into the room. Over her shoulder Mary gave me an unreadable smile and turned to retreat down the hall.

I stepped back into my room and Kat followed me, tentatively. The light from the hall lit her from behind and I felt my heartbeat quicken at the sight. Her floor length gown was transparent in the glow, emphasising the lush, flowing curves of her body. Her breasts swayed intoxicatingly beneath the thin material, her nipples hard and obvious points. Under the gown I could discern panties, adding a lovely touch of mystery to the ensemble. With a nimbus of light around her she appeared like the proffered sacrifice of some pagan rite, as imagined by Bernardo Bertolucci. And even the most demanding of Gods would have been satisfied with this offering.

I was so staggered by her loveliness that I was almost as tongue tied and uncertain as a teenager. I found myself taking one hand in mine and stroking her face with the other. Wordlessly, unable to think of a coherent thing to say I lead her to my bed. Looking at her as I walked I managed to trip over a floor rug and ended up falling on to the bed with underneath me.

And then we kissed.

I was startled, at first, suddenly realising this was the first time I had kissed her. Then I wondered when I had last kissed anyone like this. Then I gave up on all rational thought and felt myself fall into the warm, wet, delicious pleasures of a full-on, old-fashioned snog; there was no other word for it. It was everything I remembered the best kisses being — and more.

Our lips met and our tongues explored, delicately duelling at first, then meshing and entwining, before disengaging — but only for the briefest of moments. The sensations were too exquisite to desist from them for long. Even the clumsy moments, when teeth met or noses bumped were part of the delightful dance. I was sure she could feel the smile on my lips as we kissed and I felt myself harden as our mutual passion rose. I heard the catch in her breath as I pulled her tight to me. I revelled in the rising moans in her throat as our kisses became more urgent and demanding.

Breaking away for a second I tried to gather my thoughts, tried to think of an order to give. Then I felt her hand on my thigh.

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