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Chapter
16
I minced into the kitchen
in my heels. Linda was there waiting for me.
"Kimmie told me you
were going to make lunch for us. About time you showed up," she
said. And she pulled the cord off my bathrobe being none to gentle
about it and my robe parted showing the pretty things I was wearing.
"Just don't see what
Kimmie sees in this stuff," she said. She yanked the front of my
panties down below my balls and fondled my cock with a few expert
strokes. I responded all right. "And stay that way," she warned.
Linda decided I would
make a light lunch for all of them and had me prepare a veggie tray
including sliced celery stalks, carrot sticks, and cucumber sandwiches.
Lunch was served on
the patio as Mistress had intended. Even though we were outside,
in no time I felt comfortable and natural in my frillies. Mistress
had replaced my bathrobe with a gown made of a nylon transparent
overlay that Kathleen had produced. It too was open at the front.
Mistress consigned my
bathrobe to the garbage can.
Mistress' solicitous
cock-petting and Linda's rougher handling of my organ pretty much
set the tone for lunch. Every time my cock was anything less than
rock-hard Kathleen delighted in making a big deal of it and then
it was a contest between Mistress and Linda to see who could take
me in hand the fastest and return me to my earlier state.
I don't remember all
the business details they were talking about but it was agreed between
the women that the 'full-dress' strategic plan for exploitation
of the 'new market' would take place the next day starting at 10
a.m. at my house.
After lunch, Mistress
and Kathleen returned to my bedroom and Linda went back to her painting.
I was left to wash and put away the dishes, and to clean up generally.
After my kitchen duty,
I reported to Linda as ordered. Once again, she made me strip, and
I was secured to the board to watch her paint. The project, at least
was coming along nicely, and she was already beginning to move stuff
out. I guessed correctly that my scaffold was the last to go. Time
passed swiftly that afternoon.
It could have been one
hour, two hours or a half hour when Kim and Kathleen walked into
the room where Linda had me bound. Kathleen was in her bra and slip.
Kim was wearing one of Margo's nightgowns. Kim was uncharacteristicly
disheveled. Her hair was in disarry and her makeup was smudged.
She had a glazed look in her eyes, and it seemed that she not only
didn't care about her appearance, she didn't seem to care about
anything. I'd swear that she was on some kind of drug, but she didn't
seem the type to do that.
The women were holding
hands and giggling. Kathleen took Kim's face in both her hands,
turned it towards her and gave her a final, long, deep kiss.
"What do we have here?"
Kathleen asked, looking at me tied up on the board.
"Oh," Linda responded,
"This is where I keep him when I have nothing better to do with
him."
Kathleen taunted her,
"And just what do you do with him when you do have something better
to do with him?"
"Well, we play. Hey!
How would you and Kim like to help me in an experiment?"
The two women looked
at each other and said almost in stereo, "Sure!"
"What do we have to
do?" asked Kathleen.
"Well, one of the things
I get as a professional painter is free samples of painting products.
I got these from a hardware chain." Linda tossed several small paint
brushes on the table. "The salesman wants me to use them and tell
me which one I like the best."
Linda unwrapped one
of the brushes. It had a head about 1 inch across. "These are nylon
brushes," she added, "The same material Kim likes on her legs. The
bristles are very soft and silky. Don't you think so?" She said,
brushing it lightly against my face. She was right.
She unwrapped two more
and showed them to Kim and Kathleen. "These are a different type
of nylon, and as you can see, the bristles are different thicknesses
and the points are chiseled differently."
"One of the problems
a painter has," LInda continued, "is painting in small places, and
painting small (here she giggled) objects. I have to evaluate my
tools to see how well they will work. Suppose I had to paint a spindle
holding up a banister or some other cylindrical object ..."
She jerked her thumb
in my direction. "Which do you think works better," Linda asked,
"taking turns 'painting' Tom's penis, or if we all do it at once."
"All at once!" Kathleen
responded, grabbing one of the brushes. Kim followed suit.
I never felt a sensation
like it before in my life. It was like my penis was being licked
by a thousand tiny hairs, every one of them matching up with a nerve
ending on the head of my penis. It didn't take long for me to drip
precome, and it took even less time for the women to use it to paint
my penis into a glistening sheen.
The soft silkiness of
the bristles wielded under gentle, deliberate female hands was the
slowest torture I could imagine. The stimulation was enough to start
the sequence of events that would normally lead to ejaculation.
Unfortunately for me, but to the great delight of the women, it
was not enough to complete the act. The result was that I was caught
on the verge of orgasm in an extended state of anticipation.
With Linda sitting on
my legs, I couldn't provide any movement of my own. I gritted my
teeth and tensed every muscle in my body trying to get as much blood
into my penis and increase its sensitivity enough to make it discharge.
It wasn't successful, and the women laughed at my thrashing and
gnashing.
"Ooh," Kathleen observed,
"I've never done this with a man before. I bet he'll do anything
for us now." She was right.
"We'll get enough of
that tomorrow," quipped Linda. "We got to get him off and stable
so I can train him for the show tomorrow."
The other two women
continued to paint up and down the length of my shaft. Linda slapped
my penis from side to side vigorously with her brush. That did it!
I errupted in a fountain of come to the sucking of air on the part
of Kathleen, and a surprisingly gigglish "ewyoo yuck" from Kim.
Had she accepted my come? Man was I falling for this girl!
The women were already
getting up as I came down from my orgasmic high.
"Well, if you two are
done with him," Linda said, "I have some training I want to get
done with him."
Kim and Kathleen just
laughed, "Use him all you want. I'm sure Kim and I will find a way
to keep busy."
Kim and Kathleen went
back to the bedroom apparently to get dressed. Linda untied me and
took me to the family room where the following day's meeting was
to be held. She wanted me to help her set up the room, and learn
some additional things from her for the show I was to put on.
"Get in here, my pud-pounding
pet!" Linda ordered me into the family room.
"Look, we got company
coming tomorrow. That means a couple of things. One, you have to
clean this place up; it's a pigsty. I guess that's appropriate for
you. But mom doesn't live here anymore. From now on, you'll be responsible
for cleaning up around here."
"Two, you are going
to have to learn to be a good host or hostess, depending on Kim's
whims. I'm sure she has you well trained in the service part of
hosting, I'm going to teach you how to entertain properly."
Linda kept me busy that
afternoon. Since she was just about finished with the painting,
she had me pack up and clean her supplies as she humped them out
to her truck. She didn't want to let me get dressed yet, and even
she didn't want my neighbors calling the police.
There was still a lot
of cleaning up after her work was done, but she said, "Leave it
for now. You can clean it up after I leave. It will be good practice
for you."
Linda was more interested
in preparing me for the following day's show. She put me through
a lot of paces, and although I could figure out some of what she
planned to do with me from what she had me do in this practice session,
I still didn't have any idea what the show was going to be about.
There were some things she made me do that I simply had no idea
of how she would use them!
The three women left
me sometime later Friday evening. No-one even asked me if I wanted
them to come back the next day. It was understood that I would always
do what I was told.
I wanted so much to
lay down and relax. Then I remembered my tasks! Particularly the
one for Kim. I still hadn't researched the Cosmopolitan article.
My 48 hours were running out. I took a quick shower and put on some
male clothing. I actually felt uncomfortable putting on my boxer
shorts. I felt a sense of loss not having the silkiness of feminine
garments next to my skin. I hopped into my car and sped off to the
library.
I got there several
minutes before closing. Although I frequented this branch often,
I didn't know where the periodicals were kept, and certainly didn't
know where the back issues were hidden. I swallowed my pride and
asked the librarian for assistance. "I need to research a back issue
of a periodical," I told her.
"Sure, we can help you.
I'll get my assistant." She turned and said to the young blond sitting
at one of the terminals behind me, "Lisa!"
I turned around to look
a Lisa. She was the same Lisa who lived down the block from me and
was a high school student pushing 16. Wonderful! She looked up from
her terminal, smiled at me and said, "Hi, Mr. Greer! What are you
looking for? I'll get it for you."
I was trapped. I knew
I didn't have time to browse the stacks. "The June 1994 Cosmopolitan,"
I whispered as lightly as I dared. Lisa lifted an eyebrow, but otherwise
had no reaction.
"You're in luck," she
said, "We still carry the original issue. Anything older than two
years might be on microfiche. Wait here."
I felt the heat rising
in my body, a knot in my stomach, the flush in my face, and the
sweat trickling down my back. I was sure that the three other patrons
knew exactly why I was there.
Lisa returned in a matter
of minutes, but it seemed like hours to me. She carried the green-covered
magazine in her hand looking at the cover titles intently, including
the one that read, "Men who want Women to Dominate Them."
If she had any doubts
about which of the cover topics I was interested in, they vanished
when I stated plugging coins into the copier to reproduce the four-page
article. I finished my task and returned the magazine to her. As
I walked out I could see her and the librarian whispering, looking
my way, and doing their best to stifle their giggles. I knew they'd
remember my "unusual" request every time I came back.
I drove home and spent
an exhausting couple of hours cleaning as the women had ordered.
I grabbed a final cup of tea, and studied the article. By the time
I dragged myself to bed, I was so tired I hardly appreciated the
soft pink nightie and matching panties that Mistress had left on
my bed for me. I barely slid the delightful fabric over my body
when I lost consciousness.
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