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Chapter
3
The rest of that afternoon
was spent with Owen providing personal services for us. He attended
Chantel and I in the shower as well as dressed us.
"You have a lot to learn,
slave," I said as he buttoned my blouse. "Aside from basic discipline,
you will have to learn how to do your chores adequately. You are
quite clumsy with the way you are getting me dressed. I suppose
that you don't know how to fix my hair or do my nails do you?"
"No mistress," he said.
"That's too bad, you'll
need to learn, and we're not going to let you go until you do."
"Here are some magazines
that explain how to fix a woman's hair. You will study them on your
'free time'. Meanwhile, you can use a hair dryer and a brush, can't
you?" Without waiting for an answer, I continued. "You'll need practice
doing nails. I will provide what's needed today, but in the future,
you will get everything you need to do the perfect pedicure on your
own. You will practice on yourself, and then do it for us women."
As Owen stood there
brushing my hair, Chantel and Beth continued their plans for ensaring
Gary. "Is there anything you can tell me about Gary that might help
us," asked Chantel.
"Nothing much, really.
Like most boys, he seems to be caught up in this macho thing, and
he does seem to have sex on his mind most of the time. He seems
more interested in sports, school, beer, and getting it off than
he does about me."
"You've just described
about 90% of the male population," I added, "How do we get to him?"
"Well, the thing that
attracted him to me was my physical state. He seems to like atheletic
women. He jogs about 3-5 miles every day himself. In fact, up until
the time I kneed him, I think he was getting excited with our wrestling
match. Physical contact is the key."
By this time, Owen was
attending to Chantel's hair, it was her turn to speak. "It looks
like we're going to have to get into shape, girls. If he's a jogger,
then Julia and I will become ones too. I'm sure he'd like to run
with a couple of 'fast women', eh?"
After laying out our
plans for Gary, we then turned our attention back to Owen. After
giving all of us back rubs, he prostrated himself at my feet kissing
them. "OK, slave, you may speak to your mistress."
"Mistress Julia, please
may I cum?." At that, all three of us broke out laughing.
"This is so delicious.,"
chuckled Chantel, "I can't wait for the day when all men come to
realize that their rightful place is at the feet of the women they
are to serve."
"Mmmm, make him beg
some more, Julia.," echouraged Beth, "Make him squirm and beg like
a puppy."
"Sit, boy," I ordered
and made him get up on his knees. "Let's see what my bad boy has
been up to." I got a belt from my bedroom, put it over his head
and used it as a leash. "Heel," I commanded as I led him around
the room a couple of times, finally getting him kneeling on a bench
facing his female audience.
"Beg," I said, and he
assumed the position. "That's better. Now let's see what we have.
Chantel, get the camera. This ought to be fun."
What we had was a thoughougly
engorged cock, dripping with precome. "I bet you want to touch yourself
and releave the tension. Don't you?"
"Yes, mistress," he
responded.
"We'll forget it! Only
real men have control over their penises. Obviously you don't. We
will teach you how to control your orgasms. You will learn that
you cannot have them unless we order them, and then you must be
able to have them on command. I not forgetting that you have been
a bad little boy and played with your 'pee pee' without your mistress'
or a superior female's permission. I will consider a proper punishment."
"Beth, you're our guest;
do you have any ideas?"
Beth responded, "It
seems like bondage is a part of the game no matter what we do. Unless
we need to let him move to service us, we ought to keep him tied
up."
"You're really getting
into this," said Chantel as we carried out Beth's suggestion.
"Also the magazine showed
the men gagged and blindfolded. I don't want to blindfold him. I
want him to see what we are doing. But I think he should be gagged
for being so bold as to ask permission to cum."
We didn't have a real
gag, but I did have the bikini underwear I just took off. They were
quite soaked with my juices as I was flowing rather heavily watching
Chantel and Beth dominate Owen earlier. I put the crotch portion
in his mouth and drew back the sides. There wasn't enough material
in the back to knot it, so I fastened it using a safety pin.
This time we used the
bungee chords on Owen's wrists and ankles in such a way to tie them
all together. In this postion, Owen was forced to kneel on the bench
with his back arched and his hips thrust forward. He looked so vulnerable
that way.
"One more thing," Beth
noted, "Some of the boys in the magazine had the penis and body
of a man, but no pubic hair. Get me a shaver." We had created a
bitch. Beth was really getting carried away with this once she got
started. She was, however, delicate with the shaver and took her
time denuding the hair from around his cock and balls. When she
was finshed, he looked like a well hung little boy. In its new setting,
his cock seemed to stand out even more.
Chantel and I sat there
sipping wine while we watched Beth work on Owen. She picked up one
of her sneakers and holding it by the heel, hefted the sole against
her palm. "Yes," she nodded with satisfaction, "this will do prefectly."
Beth pointed to a spot
on the table, and issued a terse, one-word command, "BEND!"
Owen strained against
the bunge cords and put his forehead to the table. His ass was up
in the air.
With the strength and
coordination she learned playing tennis, Beth swung her sneaker.
It contacted with a sound that was a combination of a slap and a
thud. Owen let out a muffled yelp.
Chantel and I pulled
closer to look. Chantel was working the camera to zoom in on what
was going on.
After several minutes
of this, we could see Owen tense. He started to grunt and pant through
the panties. Then the dam broke. His penis started pumping out copious
quanties of come. Chantel and I had seen him come in our previous
session, but it was nothing like this.
We couldn't believe
that a boy could come whitout ever touching himself.
Beth was delighted with
herself, and kept spanking him rhythmicaly with her sneaker as long
as he kept pumping come. I had to lend a steading hand to Owen as
he swooned with the pleasure of his ejactulation.
It was obviously time
for recess, so we unbound and ungagged Owen who immediately dropped
to his knees and kissed my feet.
"Speak slave," I said.
"Thank you, mistress,"
was all he could gasp.
We had him clean up
the mess he made on the table and the floor.
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