Aunty?s Sex Slave

Aunty's Sex Slave (F/M, F/F, D/s, BD, Interracial, WaterSports) by adoration ============================================================================ Aunty's Sex Chapter 1 ============================================================================ ==== Part 1: ============================================================================ ==== It was somewhat ironic, I thought, as I licked obediently at my aunt's moist pussy while she lay on her poolside recliner in the dry Arizona heat, that my predicament had been caused by a female domination magazine entitled, very appropriately, "Mistress Knows Best". Perhaps I'd better explain, because it all happened more than 15 years ago - in 1989. I was 20-years-old and my Aunt Pat 18 years my senior, but she was a stunningly built, still hugely attractive brunette. I had been sent out to Pat's superb lifestyle block on the outskirts of Flagstaff by my step-mother, Karla, a gorgeous but haughty 35-year-old, who had just married my father, a wealthy industrialist. Pat was her older sister and had attended the wedding in London where we had chatted over a glass of bubbly at the "wedding breakfast" and she insisted I call her "aunty". Silly, really, but I found it rather amusing. The holiday was to last for a month, before I went back to learn the ropes at my father's industrial empire. On arrival at Los Angeles International, I had taken a cab around the area while waiting for my connecting flight to Flagstaff. During the drive I spotted an adult bookstore, got the cabbie to stop, and it was there I purchased the magazine that was to change my life. It was wrapped in clear plastic, of course, but the title - "Mistress Knows Best" - and the picture of the beautiful PVC-clad dominatrix on the title page was enough to persuade me to part with $7. It was the best $7 I ever spent! The magazine was published - I know because I still have it - by Holly Publications, and consisted of four photo spreads and the one entitled "Wild With Desire" starring the stunner on the cover was cock-raising material. Anyway, I climbed back in the cab and was soon in the little Western Airlines commuter plane on the flight to Flagstaff. Aunty Pat, a tallish brunette with superb 40-inch breasts, was there to chauffeur me back to her spread, some miles out of town. It was a luxurious, secluded place, with a magnificent swimming pool and large, lush lawns. On arrival, Aunt Pat threw my only bag - I travelled light, just some underwear, swimming trunks, jeans, T-shirts and shirts - onto the bed in the guest bedroom and we went into the huge kitchen where she fixed me lunch. Sadly - no, make that fortunately - she pressed a couple of Coors beers on me, or maybe three. By now I feeling a little light headed and told her I needed a nap - London to LA was a long flight. She smiled and kissed me lightly on the cheek. She smelt of wheat, and I wanted her. But I also wanted to get away from her - I was desperate to check out my domination magazine, of course. Soon I was on the bed, naked, hand on my eight-inch uncut cock, stroking myself as I perved over the pictures, especially the "Wild With Desire" ones. Then, I must have fallen asleep. The next thing I knew I was awake. Judging by the light in the room it was well into the evening. I sat bolt upright and there - sitting in an easy chair by the foot of the bed was Aunty Pat. She was, you guessed it, thumbing through "Mistress Knows Best". I scrambled for the sheet to cover myself, but it had fallen off the foot of the bed. Then I looked at Aunty Pat and suddenly felt my penis start to stir. She was a stunning sight. Her lovely big breasts were covered by a shiny red satin brassiere, with black edging. On her hips was a shiny black PVC miniskirt. One leg was crossed over the other, displaying a wonderful expanse of bronzed thigh. She was wearing blood red high heels. I pulled a pillow and plunked it across my groin to hide my swiftly rising cock. Pat looked up at me and smiled.

Then she put her hand on the table beside her chair and threw a bundle at me. "Have a look at those, you naughty boy, you," she laughed, and I saw the things I took to be paper were, in fact, about a dozen garishly-colored Polaroid prints. Each showed me, cock in hand, perving on my purchase. " Aunty Pat," I tried to bluster, "you've been spying on me!" Pat laughed, laying the magazine down. "On the contrary - my housekeeper, Anita has been doing the spying! Anita, get in here!" Into the bedroom stepped a hard-faced but quite attractive raven-haired woman, some years younger than my aunt. Her beautifully bronzed body was nude save for a black satin garter belt, shiny black stockings and black high-heeled shoes. Her breasts were smaller than Pat's - later I found they were 34-inch beauties - and her pubic bush was jet black and trimmed back to allow a clear view of her piss flaps peeping below the crew-cut hair style. Pat introduced me: "This is Anita Armitage, my housekeeper and partner - she took those pictures through a crack in the door which leads into my room adjoining this. Being a faithful employee-confidante, she thought she should show them to me. Rick - you really are a very naughty boy, aren't you?" "No I'm not," I protested, "I'm just a perfectly normal, highly-sexed 20-year-old who enjoys looking at pictures of pretty women!" Pat sniggered. " Oh yes, pretty women - look what one of them is saying - "Do you want to worship my tits, my arse, my cunt - well on your knees, slave'. Lovely. You' re a freak for femdom, Rick, admit it!" I lowered my face, Aunty Pat had me there, and to my great relief, I poured it out. "Well, since it's pretty obvious, yes, I do fancy being a wonderful woman' s sex slave, aunty. You win!" I confessed. Pat grinned at me, and threw another magazine across. "And take that silly pillow away, Rick, we both know what you look like now!" Sheepishly, I put the pillow behind me, on top of the other two and sat propped up, my cock still stiffly standing high. The magazine that Aunty Pat had tossed over was a German publication, with a young woman wearing a bright red PVC playsuit featured on the cover. It was called something "Sklaven der PVC" or some such thing. "Look at the center-spread," said my "aunt". When I got there I saw a spread of some eight or nine shots of Aunty Pat - named by the magazine "Mistress Helga", but it was obviously Aunty Pat. She was erotically clad in a black PVC playsuit, which was open-fronted and exposed her magnificent 40-inch superstructure. The suit had a zip which ran from the navel back to the small of the back. In every shot, the suit was unzipped, exposing Pat's brown-haired pussy. In every shot she was posing with a many-tailed flogger. By the time I'd finished scanning the pictures I was as stiff as a policeman's nightstick! "I was given the playsuit after the shoot," Pat informed me, looking with interest at my hard-on. "Like me to model it for you?" I nodded so enthusiastically it's a wonder my head didn't part company with my shoulders. " God yes," I breathed. Pat smiled and turned to Anita. "First let's see if he's going to be up to our demanding standards, shall we Anita? Try him out! " With that, the raven-haired beauty stepped to the side of the bed, kicked her shoes off and climbed onto the mattress. Placing a knee on either side of my upper body, Anita lowered her minge onto my unprotesting mouth. Her semi-shaved snatch was wet with sex juices and slithered across my hungry lips. Soon my tongue was sliding into her crevices, flicking against her rosebud anus, then into her sopping wet cunt, then up to her clitoris until, only a minute or two after she had begun her face-sitting exercise, Anita pumped even faster and roared to her climax. Slipping off my and replacing her shoes, Anita bent over and gave my mouth, moist from her musk, a gentle kiss on the mouth and reported: " Magnificent, madam, I think he'll do quite well." "Wonderful," said Pat, rising from her chair and smoothing her mini over her lush buttocks. "Welcome to our humble abode, Rick. It looks like you' re in for a month of sex slavery!"

Part 2: ========================================================== ====================== Lying back on the bed, my stiffy pointing towards the ceiling, I had hoped that my Aunt Pat would follow the example of her housekeeper-cum-partner in sitting on my eager face. My hopes, though, were soon dashed. "I'm going to change, Anita," announced the busty 40-year-old. "Take him down to the games room and play something gentle with him till I'm ready."

The raven-haired beauty smiled sweetly at me and purred: "It'll be a pleasure madam." Then holding out her hand, she invited: "Come with me, Master Rick, there's a room I know you'd like to see." I took her hand and acutely aware of my jutting ramrod, walked with Anita out of the bedroom and down a long corridor in the sumptuous home. At the far end of the house, away from the living quarters was a narrow, metal spiral staircase. Anita led the way down. At the bottom was another long corridor which obviously ran beneath the house, lit at varying distances by harsh strip lighting. The first room we came to had hung on its large wooden door a little riding crop. "Welcome to the games room, Master Rick," said my escort, throwing the door open. I stepped into a lushly-carpeted and opulently appointed room. Scattered along the walls were leather couches, leather easy chairs were dotted around. There was also a padded leather bench, complete with straps and at one end a pair of stirrups. What was obviously a whipping stool stood off to one side. On the walls hung various and varied implements, such as whips, floggers, paddles, canes and so on. It was, I realised immediately, an extremely well equipped torture chamber. Anita stepped over to an easy chair and settled down in it, throwing her thighs over the arms, displaying her lovely pussy to my fixed gaze. "Madam said something gentle, so you may as well get used to pleasuring me, Master Rick," she smiled, indicating I should drop onto the carpet. I moved my mouth to her minge and began to work at providing her pussy with another orgasm. Her sex smelled strongly of feminine musk, heady and intoxicating. I lapped and laved at her labia lips, then her cunt, then her clit. Anita dropped her legs over my shoulders, pinning me more securely. "Don' t forget my arsehole, arsehole," she commanded. Then, after a small chuckle added: "Sorry, Master Arsehole!" My adoration of her pussy was soon paying dividends, when I heard the door to the games room open. I kept up my cunnilingual task, but was aware that Aunty Pat was now standing just behind me. Then, with a roar and a groan of

"Yeeees", Anita announced her orgasm. "Up you get, Rick," I heard Aunty Pat command, and I rose to stand before her, prick jutting up proudly. What I saw made my penis stand out even more stiffly, if that was possible! Aunty Pat, true to her word, was now modeling for me the PVC playsuit she had appeared in for the German magazine shoot. I gaped, open mouthed, at her wondrous breasts which I had previously only lusted after in photographs and bra-clad glory. The lush 40-inch boobs were standing up in glorious uplift, the nipples erect in the air-conditioned torture chamber. At her pussy, the hirsute appearance in the German porno magazine had been replaced by a shaved pubis, in which only a slight wisp of sandy, light brown hair remained on her prominent mons. On her legs, Aunty Pat was wearing black leather boots which came gloriously high - half-way up her sun-tanned thighs. On her arms were black PVC gloves which came up to her elbows. Pat grinned at me: "Well, Rick, don't just stand there, say something!" I gulped, then gathered my thoughts: "You are the most stunningly sexy sight I've ever laid eyes on." She seemed impressed. "And I suppose you would like to perform some body worship adoration on this `sexy sight', would you, my darling?" I fell to my knees in what I hoped would be a suitably submissive pose, staring up at her lovely thick piss flaps. "Ohmigod, yes, yes, please, aunty,"

I was almost pleading. Pat laughed and then helped me to my feet. "Of course you may, my dear Rick, but it will be a special form of body worship - one which I hope will amuse you." Then, turning to Anita, she announced: "Get out some of that perfume for Rick - what do we call it?" Anita responded: "Jean Patou by Pat, I think you're referring to, madam." "Ah yes," said my aunt, "one of the more exotic perfumes, I think." Anita smiled and went to a refrigerator that I had not noticed before, standing in the far corner of the chamber. She returned holding a large glass container containing almost a pint of perfume, with an atomizer attached to its neck. "Now, Rick, we'll play some body adoration games. First, I am going to permit you to worship five places on my body - can you guess where they are?" "Er, no aunty," I almost whispered. "Come, come, Rick," she chided me, " use your imagination for crying out loud! Where would you like to lick me?" I gulped, Then waded in: "Your breasts, your buttocks and - er, your pussy aunty." Pat mockingly put her hands together in one sarcastic clap. "See, it was easy, wasn't it?" Then turning to her accomplice, Pat instructed: "My left breast first, Nita." The raven-haired nude sprayed a film of perfume across Aunty Pat's large left globe. "Ouch," she winced, "that's so goddamn cold. OK Rick, get to work." I stepped to her side and lowered my mouth to her breast, then paused, inhaling the aroma from her bosom. "Get on with it, Rick," she commanded, "you 'll enjoy it, promise!" I gulped back a protest and ran my tongue all over her lush, large melon, confirming my worst fears. The "perfume" Anita had sprayed on Pat's breast was urine - chilled urine, but urine nonetheless. "Come on, Rick," Pat commanded, sensing my reluctance, "there are sex slaves around the world who would pay thousands to perform the task you're enjoying right now - put some fucking enthusiasm into it!" I ran my tongue all over her gleaming globe, then straightened. "See," she laughed, stroking my cheek with her PVC-gloved hand, "it wasn't so bad, was it?" "No, aunty," I mumbled, still tasting the saltiness of her " perfume" piss. "Good," said Aunty Pat, "now we can proceed to the right breast - Nita, do

the honors!" The nude partner in punishment sprayed a liberal amount of piss on Pat's other breast and once more I bent to the task, this time being careful not to upset my dominating aunty. The next target Anita Armitage sprayed for my worship was Aunty Pat's left buttock. I knelt and licked and laved at the liquid, now aware of a marvelous pussy aroma coming from Pat's pussy. Then the right buttock was similarly anointed. "And now for the part we've all been waiting for, eh Rick?" Pat said from above me as I completed my buttock worship. "Yes, aunty," I replied, by now becoming somewhat more accustomed to the tanginess of the perfume Anita was spraying onto Pat's body. Aunty Pat walked over to a large couch and placed her left foot up on the leather, thus spreading her snatch invitingly for Anita to apply the " perfume". I watched with a mixture of fear and excitement as the dark-haired beauty performed the spraying. Finally, she stood back from Pat's pussy and my aunt called out: "Quickly, darling, it's cold and I want to feel the heat from your tongue!" Swiftly I obeyed, kneeling in front of her glorious figure. My tongue licked at the "perfume" and tasted a combination of her chilled piss and the wonderfully tasty juices from her sex. This was by far the most appetizing part of the task, as the sex juices combined with the urine spray to provide almost an intoxicating liquid. I laved eagerly, encouraged by Aunty Pat's comments: "Oh, Rick, that tongue is so hot, yes, eat me, lick me, let me come!" I continued my task, and then Pat pushed my head back. "Nita," she gasped, "freshen my minge up, Rick must have licked all the perfume off by now!" Anita obliged, then I went back to work, my now eagerly sucking and lapping at aunty's sex. Soon groans and moans flooded from my aunt's lips and with an ecstatic " Yeeeees", she grabbed my head and graunched her groin against my face as she shuddered to her climax. I stood and felt Aunty Pat's arms enfold me. "There, darling," she smiled, kissing me strongly on my piss-perfumed mouth, "that wasn't so awful, was it?" I had, to my total surprise, to admit that no, it wasn't. Aunty Pat grinned wickedly. "Of course not, in fact I suppose it was so nice you'll volunteer to do it with Anita, won't you?" I looked across at the housekeeper. She was already handing the by-now half-empty atomizer bottle across to Aunty Pat ......

Aunty's Sex Slave Chapter 2: ============================================================================ ==== Part 1: ============================================================================ ==== I hung suspended in the metal flogging frame, my wrists held in the top corners beneath the cross bar by sturdy leather restrainers. At the base of the frame my widespread ankles were similarly bound. The height of the frame meant that my toes were just touching the smoothly cut lawn beneath me. The frame had braces at the base extending to two small wheels on each side, which made the entire contraption portable. I had been placed into this position of bondage on the first full morning of my month's holiday at Aunty Pat's secluded Arizona spread. After breakfast, which I had consumed in the nude while Aunty Pat and the 30-year-old Anita had worn provocative little bikinis, Anita had made me drag the frame out from the large, four-car garage adjoining the luxury home. When the raven-haired beauty had me attached to the frame she had gone into the house and returned with a bowl of warm water, a shaving brush, safety razor and scissors. Now, hanging in the wonderfully dry Arizona heat, I had been shaved of body hair from my armpits, around my nipples, from my thighs and calves. Anita had also shaved all the pubic hair from my scrotal sac and my stiff 8-inch cock, while cutting the bush on my pubic bone back to a really short crew cut. The bikinied woman had then lathered the front of my body liberally with suntan lotion and left me hanging there. Some 30 minutes later she re-emerged from the house to turn the frame around so the sun's rays now beat on my back, which also received a coating of lotion. "Another half an hour and you 'll be ready for madam," Anita informed me, stroking my cock gently before leaving me alone again. Finally, my Aunty Pat stepped out onto the lawn and moved in front of my helpless, naked body. The lush-breasted 38-year-old was again dressed to arouse and I felt my cock stirring as I gazed at her. On her head a broad-brimmed black leather sombrero sheltered her face from the sun. A black latex bolero jacket, which was buttonless and consequently could not be closed across her lushness, hardly covered her 40-inch breasts. Her midriff was bare, her pussy lips clearly visible. On her feet were knee-high black leather riding boots, on her hands shiny black leather gloves. Aunty Pat plunked my scuffed Nike trainers and a pair of white sox on the grass, then dropped what looked like stirrups and a rubber bit and reins beside them. "Let's get you out of that uncomfortable position, darling, you look exhausted," she said, expressing exactly what I felt. I stretched my arms and legs when I was finally freed to remove the numbness. "Trainers and sox on," I was instructed. The next thing I knew, as I was still bending tying my laces, Aunty Pat draped the leather strap attached to the stirrup across the top of my back and placed the red rubber bit with its reins in my mouth. "Squat," she instructed, and I went into a sort of baseball catcher's crouch. Aunty Pat then carefully straddled my upper back, slipping first one booted foot into a stirrup, then the other. I felt her weight press down on me and I felt a dampness just below the nape of my neck. She was, I was delighted to feel, aroused! "Now get up, slowly!" she ordered me. Slowly I rose to my full height, my body straining as I bore Pat's weight, my hands clasping the leather at her booted feet to aid in maintaining my balance. I swayed slightly, then steadied myself. Digging her heels gently but firmly into my upper hips, Aunty Pat called out "Walk on", and I took my first steps as her human pony. A regular gym worker, although no muscle-bound body builder, I soon found that by careful stepping I could transport her. Soon we were quite some way from the house and then, to my horror, I saw Aunty Pat was steering me towards two young women -- I took them to be in their early 20s -- who were working on a cactus garden area well away from the property. I shook my head in the reins, violently, but Aunty Pat laughed at me. "Don't worry, Rick," she said, soothingly. "My hired Latino help -- Conchita and Pepina, by the way -- are devout lesbians. They're far more interested in me than they will be in you." Despite this I felt my penis start to stir as we neared the ladies, who were both clad in brief leather shorts and black leather bras which pushed their small, firm breasts into high uplift. When Pat reined me to a halt she chatted with the girls, issuing instructions for their chores on the property that day. As she spoke to one, the other walked behind, surveying my sweating body. Coming around to face me, the girl told Aunty Pat: "E as a nice arse, mistress." Pat laughed: "You and Conchita do a good job this week, and I may let you flog it later!" The other one, Pepina, obviously, sniggered. "No, mistress, we would be too ard on him, not gentle like you!" Aunty Pat waved a gloved hand and I walked from the girls work station, acutely aware that my cock was swaying stiffly, betraying my interest in their near-naked charms. "Don't worry, darling," Pat informed me, as we drew away, "I won't let them have you."

As soon as we were out of earshot, Aunty Pat informed me: "They used to work in a domination dungeon I own in Los Angeles but they had to come out to the desert after their attentions on one of my clients attracted a complaint to the police. There's no way I'd let you be seen to by them -- they'd tear your arse to pieces!" My hard-on had disappeared. Further down the dusty, sandy track Aunty Pat had chosen I felt her start to sign from her position above me, then she flicked the reins and cried " Faster, darling, faster, I'm coming!" I moved into a trot, heaving and straining, sweating beneath my burden until I felt aunt's thighs contract around my neck as she shuddered to her climax. Aunty Pat then dismounted and walked beside me for some way, stroking my cock before making me squat. On the ride back to the house I was once more urged into a trot when aunty felt another orgasm nearing -- this time not at all far from the Latino women, who I now noticed had removed their leather bras, their small brown breasts gleaming in the strong sunlight. Back at the house, Aunty Pat dismounted, remove the gear from me and ordered: "Shoes and sox off and into the pool for laps -- but don't start till Anita and I get there!" I waited, standing by the edge at the top end of the pool, its water shimmering in the light. I was sweating and eager to start swimming. Some 10 minutes after arriving poolside, I was relieved to hear the sound of two pairs of high heels clopping across the concrete path leading around the lawn to the pool. Aunty Pat and Anita -- who that morning I had been told to address as Miss Anita -- had arrived. Both wore black stilettos, and both were nude saved for baseball caps, shading their eyes from the sun. Both appeared to be fans of the Arizona Diamondbacks, I noted. With some apprehension, I also noted that both were carrying short leather crops. Aunty Pat walked over to stand beside me, while Miss Anita went round to the far end of the pool and stood, hands on hips, feet a foot or so apart. " Get to the edge, hands up clasped behind your head," snapped aunty. I stepped forward. "There's your target, when you get there, out of the pool and worship at Miss Anita's pussy. When she tells you to stop, back on your feet, facing me. Understood?" I nodded: "Yes aunty." Suddenly the crop stung against my buttocks and I toppled forward into the water and free-styled my way to the end, clambered out and pressed my tongue against Miss Anita's dark-haired minge. For the first time the previous evening, I tasted her sweet snatch but just as I was starting to enjoy myself, the bronzed beauty snapped: "Up!" I stood, displaying an erection, and turned to face back down the pool. There stood my aunty, hands on hips, in an identical pose to Anita's. Again my buttocks were thwacked by a crop and I splashed back into the water. Completing the lap, I struggled from the warm water and began to perform adoration at Aunty Pat's pussy, tasting her wetness and the wonderful tangy taste of her sex juices. "Up!" came the command and I was set off back down the pool by another cut of the crop. I had completed about 10 laps each way, when I became aware that the two topless Latino ladies had arrived and were amused spectators, leaning on garden hoes as they watched my pool discipline. Finally, after some 40 laps -- 20 each way -- I was allowed to stop splashing back and forth. I was panting from my exertions and my buttocks were stinging. Aunty Pat kissed me on the mouth: "Excellent, now get downstairs and wait for me!"

Part 2: ============================================================================ ==== By "downstairs" I had no doubt whatsoever that Aunty Pat had intended me to wait for her in what she termed "the games room", and as I walked off I saw Aunty Pat talking to the two gardeners. I couldn't hear their conversation but a peal of laughter from the two younger ladies convinced me that I had been the subject of their mirth. I entered the cool basement beneath the house and stepped into the "games room". I had no idea how long my aunt would take to get down there, but I knew I should appear ready for her arrival. I thought for a moment and then decided on what I hoped would be taken as a suitable posture of submission. Kneeling in the centre of the room, with my knees a couple of feet apart, my feet behind me touching, I put my hands behind me and clasped my ankles. Luckily, I did not have long to wait. The door to the room swung open and in marched my two beautiful dominas. "Aha, it looks like Rick has been reading all the correct slave training manuals," smiled Aunty Pat, as she saw my

pose. "Or reading too many femdom magazines!" laughed her friend. As I looked at the two women, my penis started its by now familiar upwards surge at the sight of them. Pat had chosen a black latex quarter-cup brassiere, her 40-inch globes thrusting out in mouth-watering uplift. Black leather boots which came half way up her lovely brown thighs completed her attire. The 30-year-old had selected a sheer black bra which had cut-out sections at the center of each cup, her nipples brown and erect in the air-conditioned torture chamber. On her hips a similarly sheer pair of black panties had a cut away section which revealed her raven-haired mons and pussy lips. She wore black stilettos. "Up you get, Rick," said my aunt and as I climbed to my feet, she instructed: "Anita, get him hooked up. He's been my pony this morning, now I want to see if he can prance!" Anita went to a rack on the wall and produced two leather cuffs, which she strapped around my wrists. A leather cuff was then clipped around my throat. She then made me put my wrists beside the throat choker and attached the D-rings set in the cuffs into metal rings on the choker. "Now fetch me a buggy whip, darling," said Pat. Anita handed her a long slender, stiff whip, which must have been all of five feet long. It tapered to a cruel, thin tip. "Right Rick," smiled my aunt, "stand to attention, feet together. Now I' m going to stand to your left. When I flick this little persuader against your backside, you will lift your right leg until your thigh is horizontal to the floor. I will then walk around to your right side and the next stroke means you lower your right leg and raise your left. Simple, eh?" I nodded: "I understand, aunty." Whether it was "simple" or not I had my doubts. "Good," said Aunty Pat, "then we'll begin." Standing well away from me, Aunty Pat swooshed the buggy whip through the air and it cut into my buttocks. I lifted my right thigh and tried to maintain a perfect balance. Then Anita snapped: "Point your foot down daintily to the floor, Rick!" I complied. Aunty walked around behind me and when she was level, flicked the whip against my tush once more. As I lowered my right leg and started to raise my left Anita sprang into verbal command mode again: "Faster, Rick, we don't have all day!" Aunty Pat strolled in front of me and when she was immediately in front of me she traced the tip of the buggy whip against my cock and balls. I tried to suppress a giggle and swayed slightly. "Steady, boy," she lectured, " you don't want to know what I do to prancing ponies who over-balance!" And so aunty's diabolical little "game" went on, crack, balance, crack, change legs, balance, tickle of whip against genitals. Soon I was sweating freely from the discipline. Then, when I hoped for a respite, Aunty Pat handed the buggy whip to her partner in punishment: "Here you are Nita, you have a go, while I observe his technique more closely." Anita took over my correction, if anything striking me slightly harder with the whip than my aunt. At last, after what seemed like ages, but in reality could only have been a quarter of an hour or so, they finished with me. Aunty Pat unhooked my wrists from the throat collar and kissed me lingeringly on the mouth, her lovely breasts pressing thrillingly against my heaving chest. "Wonderful, Rick, I think we'll make a lovely little pony out of you yet!" Then she announced: "Time for lunch I think. Then we'll teach you the pose flogging game!" Lunch I was looking forward to. Pose flogging? I wasn't too sure about that!

Aunty's Sex Slave Chapter 3 ============================================================================ ==== Part 1: ============================================================================ ==== After an appetizing lunch, Aunty Pat and Anita Armitage left to get kitted out in different outfits, which I was soon to find was part of their penchant for always looking ravishing for their sex slave. My aunt instructed me to return to the games room and await their return and I was kneeling in the middle of the chamber when the domination duo returned. Aunty Pat had chosen a lustrous black PVC top which covered her shoulders and breasts, heaving the 40-inch glories into stunning uplift, the nipples sticking out in the shiny material. On her arms were black, elbow-length PVC gloves. She went bare-crotched but her legs were encased in gleaming black leather boots which came half-way up her thighs. Anita also mouth-wateringly dressed. On her short-cropped brown hair sat a jaunty little black Muir cap, an open fronted red PVC brassiere thrust her 34-inch breasts forward enticingly and a red satin garter belt held up shiny black stockings. Red high heels completed her erotic outfit. I wanted to fuck both of them! Aunty smiled and held out her hand to get me to stand. "Now my dear," she announced, "it's time to teach you pose flogging. You're going to do the posing, we're going to do the flogging. Won't that be fun?" "Yes, aunty," I replied, "but there's something I want to say." Aunty looked me directly in the eyes and nodded: "Say away!" "I want to fuck you, aunty," I said, as fervently as I could. Aunty Pat frowned. "Oh dear, Nita, it looks like we've got a problem here. Look, Rick, we're training you to be a sex slave and that's our number one priority now. We can discuss this fucking' business later." Then she smiled at her friend: "Rick here is obviously having a problem with this." And with that she stroked my eight-inch hard-on. "I think perhaps the open-fronted posing pouch might help him with his problem." Anita grinned mischievously at my aunt, who then told her: "Fit it for him, there's a darling, while I fetch the gear for his pose flogging." Anita went to a drawer in a table along one wall of the dungeon and returned holding a little rubber pouch with a sturdy leather strap attached. Pulling the opening of the rubber garment, she fitted it around my scrotum, then let go and it snapped into place, gathering my balls in its tight grip. As Anita adjusted the strap tightly around the base of my cock I felt hundreds of little pricks starting to inflict themselves on my balls. Aunty Pat returned carrying a cat o' nine tails and a metal rod like a golf club, only with leather grips at each end. She surveyed Anita's handiwork and smiled at me: "There, that should help drive those lustful thoughts from your naughty mind, my dear. Wasn't that nice of Anita?" I gulped. "Nice" wasn't the word I had in mind. "Yes, aunty," I answered. Aunty nodded her agreement. "Yes, it was so nice, I think you should give her a nice long kiss to say thank-you." It wasn't an observation, I realised, it was a command, so I stepped over to the lovely raven-haired lady and went to kiss her on the mouth. Both Anita and Aunty Pat roared with laughter. "No, no, no, Rick," said my aunt. "A nice long kiss down here is a euphemism for cunnilingus." And I looked at Anita who was pointing at her pussy. I went down on my knees, said "Thank-you, Miss Anita" and started to kiss her pussy lips, an action which only served to keep my prick stiff and add to my pain from the punishment pouch. After a minute or so, Aunty Pat tapped me on the shoulder and said: "That' s enough, Rick, no need to make a meal of it!" I stood and faced the busty brunette. "Here," she said, "take this", and thrust the metal bar into my hands. It was about four feet long. "This bar will remain in your hands throughout the session," Aunty Pat explained. "Now in a pose flogging there are three positions, and you will be ordered to adopt them on the command Position 1 ' and so on." I nodded. "The first pose is on tip toe," said aunty. "Raise the bar above your head, arms fully extended and spread your feet about a yard apart - that'll help with your balance." I did as I was told, feeling the strain on my calves and thighs as I assumed the position. "That's the pose," said Aunty Pat, "now all we need is the flogging." And with that she traced the cat down my back, from shoulders to buttocks. The thongs felt cool on my naked flesh. "It's a rubber flogger," Aunty Pat explained, "which means it won't break the skin and it won't be too painful - just a light stinging." And then she flicked the flogger between my spread thighs, the tips of the lashes curling around my rubber-cover balls. I let out an involuntary "Oooouch" and earned a reprimand from Miss Anita: "No, Rick, it's `One, thank-you Aunty Pat'." "Sorry," I apologized, "one, thank-you Aunty Pat." The words were hardly out of my mouth than the second stroke stung home across my shoulder blades. I counted properly. Then a third cut into my buttocks. Every now and again the blow was of such force that I was forced to teeter forward on tip toe. Already the strain on my legs was starting to tell. I was sweating freely. After 10 strokes, Aunty Pat halted and handed the cat to Anita. "Take him through position two, darling," she instructed and made herself comfortable on an easy chair to watch the second segment of the flogging. Miss Anita stepped beside my straining body and said: "Right, slave, feet a yard apart, then bend over until your hands are grazing the carpet." I bent over, my back towards Aunty Pat, and presented my arse what I thought would be a perfect flogging position. Just then, there was a knock on the door to the chamber. "That'll be the girls," said Aunty Pat, "I told them I'd let them watch Rick's training if they finished their chores early." And with that she walked over to the door and let the two Latin ladies, Pepina and Conchita, into the room. As they crossed the floor of the games room to be seated on the couch directly behind my back, I noticed that both had removed their black leather shorts and were now clad only in black leather g-strings and black high heels. Their small breasts with the cherry red nipples erect, were bare. As Pepina and Conchita settled down on the couch, Miss Anita drew her arm back and flogged the cat down across my tautened buttocks. She continued the punishment for 10 strokes, then was instructed by Aunty Pat: "Move on to position number three, now Nita!" The gardening girls broke into applause at this. "Eees going to like this one," one of the pair said. "I'm sure he will," said my aunt as Miss Anita

went into command mode. "On the floor, kneeling with your knees about a yard apart, slave," she told me. I did so. "Now behind you put your feet together, then place the rod behind you, lay it across the backs of your ankles and grab it." This forced my upper torso and genitals into a completely helpless display for my dominatrix. Miss Anita stood alluringly before me, her nipples peeping through the open-fronted PVC bra, her minge brown and inviting. Then she raised the flogger and cracked it down across my chest. "One, thank-you Miss Anita," I called out. "And now this is why you're going to enjoy this position, Rick," I heard my aunt say from her seat. Anita then moved forward and rubbed her sweet-smelling pussy across my mouth, before pulling back and delivering another blow. "Two, thank-you, Miss Anita," I intoned, and once more was rewarded with an aromatic pussy being rubbed over my face. This continued for 10 strokes, then Anita was replaced by my aunt. She repeated the 10-stroke, 10 pussy lick, punishment-pleasure game and after the final stroke, I heard a voice from the couch: "May we ave a go with eem, mistress?" Aunty Pat looked down at me and smiled. My mouth fell agape, aunty had promised to keep the lesbian gardeners away from me! She realised my confusion, then replied: "Of course you can, girls - 10 strokes each." Before handing the cat o' nine tails to one of the gardeners, Aunty Pat glanced down at me: "I know I promised to keep you away from the girls, darling, but I've changed my mind, it's a woman's prerogative, you know." Then standing before me was a now-nude gardener - it was Conchita, she informed me. She had stripped off her g-string to reveal a very dark, slightly shaven pussy, with shocking pink piss flaps. Her first stroke fell across my cock and balls. I bit back a shriek and cried "One, thank-you, Miss Conchita" and the Latina lowered her pussy to my mouth. It was a strongly-smelling snatch, with a mixture of sex juice, sweat and urine, all intermingled in an intense aroma. The 10 strokes were delivered, and as Conchita handed the flogger to her gardening mate, she remarked: "Look, ees still ard - `e likes eet, the filthy pervert!" Pepina's pussy was a twin-sister of her colleague's, semi-shaved, dark with pinkish piss flaps. The taste, too, was strikingly similar, that triple taste of sex, sweat and piss, and I was both thrilled and disgusted to feel that throughout the 10-stroke punishment, my penis retained its rigid erection. At last the three-pose flogging was over and Aunty Pat, helping me to my feet, told the girls they could leave. Both stepped up and kissed me on the cheek, and fondled my stiffness, before leaving the chamber, chuckling.

Part 2: ===================================================== =========================== >From then on, the days ran into a summery blur. Each morning, after breakfast, I would be prepared to ride either my aunt, or Anita, out around the property. Anita was lighter than my aunt, but not by much, so both were a weight on my shoulders. On other mornings, for a change, I would be saddled to a pony cart, which Anita and Aunty sat in while I dragged them around, encouraged from time to time by a buggy whip stroke across my back or buttocks. After each "pony" session, I was allowed to cool off in the lovely waters of the swimming pool, but with the added humiliation of having to haul myself from the pool at the end of each lap for the obligatory pussy adoration,

then cut with the crop, as a signal to set off on another lap. Then it was down to the basement games room where Anita or Aunty Pat - sometimes both - enjoyed playing "games" with me until lunchtime, by which stage I was (a) rather tired, and (b) extremely hungry. The afternoon was either spent lounging by the pool or, if either of my lovely tormentresses was in a teasing mood, in the torture chamber undergoing punishment and pleasure, sometimes just punishment. From time to time, the gardeners played the pose flogging game with me, always leaving me in a state of flustered arousal. The evening meal was usually followed by a movie session, in which I was allowed to pick a porno video, while Pat or Anita made a choice, so we always watched two movies. I, without hesitation, chose a movie with a femdom theme, because I loved the comments Anita and Aunty Pat passed on the performances. Aunty Pat's preferences were usually black and white "film noir" while Anita's were of the lesbian variety - one which included the gardeners in a steamy sex session. One evening, about a week after my arrival, I collapsed into bed and had almost fallen into a deep sleep, when I felt a rustle of the sheets. Anita snuggled up alongside me, and lay a warm hand on my cock. "Your aunt suggested it was time we did something about your problem down there," she whispered. "She's worried that you may have a case of blue balls." I kissed her softly on the mouth and asked: "How old are you, Miss Anita?"

She chuckled. "Why this obsession with age? I'm 30. And my other vital statistics, which I guess you're also interested in, are 34-25-35. Now, will you fuck me?" I did, and for the first time since my visit to Aunty Pat's I was allowed relief from the longing ache in my poor balls. When I awoke the next morning, the sun was streaming through the curtains and I was alone.

Part 3: ============================================================================ ==== A fortnight after my arrival, the day had followed its usual routine. I had played the role of "pony" carrying Aunty Pat around on my shoulders, during which journey she had enjoyed two noisy orgasms. There had been the lengths of the pool to cool down, punctuated by pussy adoration at the completion of each lap, and then a session in the games room - a pose flogging, and a worship session of "perfume" licking from the two dominatrix's lovely bodies. After lunch, Miss Anita had ordered me to set up the flogging frame in front of their poolside recliners. After strapping me into it, she oiled my naked body and left me hanging there, the hot Arizona sun improving what I considered to already be a sensational tan. Later, the two ladies arrived, clad in one-piece PVC playsuits - aunty's was black, Anita's a vivid red. The suits were both cut away at the breasts, so their boobs - Pat's large and jolly, Anita's smaller but firmer - were completely uncovered. The garments' crotches were open view, as well, allowing me unhindered glimpses of two lovely pussies as they lay back on their loungers. I felt my prick begin to rise as I gazed on their bodies. After Aunty Pat and Anita had made themselves comfortable, the two Latin lovelies, both naked, although they wore black high heels, arrived with an ice bucket holding a bottle of finest Dom Perignon champagne, and a tray with

two flutes. As they opened the Dom and poured a glass for Pat and Anita, my aunty made a call on her mobile. The two gardeners then left the poolside deck and I heard aunty's side of her call. "Hi, Ebony, it's me Pat. I'm well. I'm just calling to invite you to a poolside party tomorrow - I've got a lovely young sex slave nephew, and I thought I'd show him off. Lovely! See you at midday!" Aunty Pat then punched in another number. "Hi Paula, it's Pat here. Fine thanks. Just a quick call to invite you to a poolside party here tomorrow - midday onwards. I want you to meet my young nephew - he's from London and he's a sex slave. I think you'll find him cute. Great! See you tomorrow!" Another number selected, another conversation. "Bobbi - great to hear your voice, long time, no see. I'm throwing a small but select poolside party tomorrow to introduce my young nephew to some friends - I'm inviting Ebony and Paula, too. "He's 20-years-old and he's a sex slave - you'll adore him. Tomorrow then? Midday on. Yup. See ya!" The calls over, Aunty Pat turned to Miss Anita: "Get him down, there's a darling." Anita freed me from my place of bondage and I rubbed the circulation back into my wrists and ankles. Aunty Pat looked up at me, her big breasts glistening in the hot sun, her thighs brown and burnished. "On your knees, darling," she ordered and I crouched down beside her lounger. "Now, since I'm throwing a poolside party in your honor, how about thanking me, very, very nicely?" Aunty widened her thighs, allowing me a clear view of her moist minge. I shuffled closer to her magnificent perfumed place and started to thank her. Very, very nicely.

Aunty's Sex Slave Chapter 4 ============================================================================ ==== The evening before the party, as we relaxed watching one of the femdom videos I had selected from Aunty Pat's wide selection of porno movies, she told me about the three ladies who had been invited along to the poolside party. "You'll love Ebony," said Aunty Pat, as she gently stroked my eight-inch erection, while we watched a trio of sexily-clad dommes put a pony boy through his athletic paces. "She's a 40-year-old - a black lady, as her name suggests - and she's a university lecturer," my aunt informed me. "She's got a big body - not overweight, just big, and she's heavily into watersports, golden showers, you know." Indeed, after more than a fortnight at aunty's secluded property, I knew very well! "Then Paula - she's a 35-year-old blonde, and she's from England, so you two should get on," said Aunty Pat. "She's also a rather large lady, and she specializes in flogging. She's a part-time dominatrix at one of my dungeons." Aunty grinned at my look of discomfort. "Don't worry, she's got a new flogging game you'll just love!" I sincerely hoped so, but somewhat doubted it! "And Paula?" I asked, as I watched the pony boy being cruelly disciplined for some minor infraction during his prancing exercises. "She's the baby of the group," explained Aunty Pat. "She's 20, a blonde, rather skinny, hardly any breasts, and she's got a thing about pony boys, so you'll be perfect for her." Again I looked apprehensive. "Don't worry, darling," my aunt reassured me, "she's quite light - but she will expect several orgasms during a ride!" Dominas riding me and expecting orgasms was nothing new to me, now! "And if you're wondering where Bobbi fits into the picture, she's Ebony' s personal assistant at the university and works part-time with Paula at one of my dungeons." Party day dawned clear and hot and I was ordered to arrange five recliners in a circle surrounding a black rubber mat, just off by the pool. Conchita and Pepina were also in attendance, dressed in saucy little black latex bikinis and high heel boots, to act as waitresses for the five dominas. Just before midday a car arrived carrying the three guests and Aunty Pat ordered me into a kneeling position in the center of the mat, my naked body glistening with sun tan lotion. She then went to greet her visitors, leaving Conchita and Pepina bearing drinks trays, and me kneeling on the mat. Some minutes later, five women emerged from the back of Aunty Pat's spacious home and walked across the lawn to accept drinks from Conchita and Pepina. >From my aunt's descriptions, it was easy to identify who was who. Ebony was a big black woman, naked save for gleaming black leather boots which came so far up her magnificently marbled thighs they were almost in danger of stroking against her prominent pink piss flaps. Her snatch was shaved, only a thin layer of crinkly black hair glistening around her sex lips and on her mons. Her breasts must have been as big, if not bigger, than my aunt's 40-inchers, with stunningly-hard nipples surrounded by wide areola. Her hair was bunched up in Afro-style and she was grinning broadly as she looked at me, kneeling in submission, my stiffy waving before me. After accepting a glass of bubbly from one of the garden girls, she stepped onto the mat and knelt beside me. "Hi babe," she smiled, stroking my erection. "Do you like golden showers?" I gulped a "Yes, very much, Mistress Ebony" reply. She continued: "And eating pussy?" "Yes, Mistress Ebony," I answered. She gave my cock another caress. "Great, then we'll get along just fine!" she said before rejoining the group. Next, I was approached by Paula, a woman who my father would have described as "a blowsy, barmaid" type, her blonde hair dragged back in a severe ponytail, her cheeks rouged. She was busty but her breasts were encased in a tight red leather bra. A matching red leather garter belt was slung around her middle, holding up black stockings. Bright red leather boots which came half-way up her big thighs completed her outfit. Her pussy was totally free of pubic hair, her sex lips thick and pendulous. "'Ello, darlin'," she said, in a broad London accent, "my name's Paula. I'm lookin' forward to floggin' you - won't that be fun, eh?" I nodded: "Yes, Mistress Paula." That left the 20-year-old Bobbi, to greet me. She was wearing a jaunty little satin jockey's cap on her head, a shiny black PVC bra covering her hardly-there tits, and black leather riding boots. In one of her leather-gloved hands was a cruel-looking little riding crop. Bobbi knelt close to me, so I could stare at her pussy, covered in a light wisp of fairish hair, the piss flaps peeping through her unshaven but sparse thatch. "I do hope you like being a pony boy, because I love having orgasms on slave's necks," she said, smiling at me, our faces nearly touching. "I like being ridden, Mistress Bobbi," I replied. As she stroked my hard-on, she laughed: "Great, because I'm going to play with you first!" I was then left to kneel in the sun, while the three guests and Aunty Pat and Anita - both wearing skimpy little PVC bikinis and high heels - lay around chatting, and drinking. Later, Aunty Pat approached me, carrying a pair of white sox and sneakers. "Get these on your feet, Rick, Bobbi wants to go for a ride," she informed me, throwing the sox and sneakers down on the mat in front of me. After I was "shod", Bobbi made me squat while she placed a short pair of reins and a red rubber bit in my mouth. When she had straddled me, I was ordered to rise. It was easy - she was much lighter than Aunty Pat. I felt her

pussy snuggling against the nape of my neck. When she was comfortably mounted and I had a good grip of her booted feet, I felt a sharp sting of her crop against my left buttock, followed by a terse "Walk on!" I started off, with Bobbi making me do a couple of laps around the lawn to encouraging calls from the audience, before pointing me out into the property and away from the house. As I ascended a smooth incline which led away from the house and the pool, Bobbi's gasps indicated that she was in imminent orgasm mode, and as we crested the ridge and out of sight of the group left by the pool, my rider cracked me across the buttocks and ordered: "Faster!" I obeyed and soon the 20-year-old had thrust her body against my sweating neck in a noisy climax. As Bobbi recovered from her excitement, she allowed me to slow, then dismounted and walked beside me for a while, stroking my cock with a gloved hand. "Shit, that was fun," the young secretary and part-time dominatrix said.

"University is boring, and sometimes just getting slaves ready for Paula can be a chore - but riding a pony boy, that's what I call pleasure!" I nodded, the rubber bit still firmly in place. Bobbi then re-mounted me and we went off deeper into Aunty Pat's property, until she had enjoyed two more orgasms before reining me to a halt back at poolside. I was panting and sweating, as she dismounted and told Aunty Pat: "Thanks, Pat, he's a lovely pony boy!" Pat grinned: "OK Bobbi, any time - now why don't you and Rick strip off and have a nice dip in the pool, and then we'll get him ready for a session with Paula?" Bobbi and I stripped and swam for a while, until Aunty Pat called out: "OK Rick, time for your whipping!" I heaved myself from the pool, toweled down and presented myself to the blonde London dominatrix. Paula had a metal spreader bar ready, which she attached to my ankles, forcing my legs wide apart. A heavy leather yoke was then placed across my neck and shoulders, and my arms and wrists strapped down onto it. The English whip expert then produced a black marker pen and a four-foot long whip, with a leather flap at the punishment end which must have been all of four inches square. "I'm going to mark my targets, darlin'," announced the English woman. Then, using the leather flap from the flogger as a template, she drew " targets" onto my naked flesh until there were 10 black-marked squares outlined on me. The boxes were around my nipples, one on my belly, one on my abdomen, one on each inside thigh, one on each buttock and one on each shoulder blade. Paula stepped back to admire her handiwork, and proclaimed herself satisfied. Then she picked up the flogger and stepped off to one side. Aunty Pat, I noticed, had produced a video camcorder and was filming my predicament. "I'm now goin' to flog our lovely young man from position one through to 10," Paula told her audience. "So I'll start at is nipples, then belly, abdomen, thighs, is back and finally is buttocks. If you ladies would like to count as I go along, that's fine with me. Fine with you, slave?" I nodded, what else could I say? Paula then stood in front of me, measured her distance and cracked the flogger against my left nipple. A searing pain shot through my chest. The audience, as one, chanted "One!" Then my other nipple was struck. " Two!" cried the spectators. Both blows were perfectly placed on the squares Paula had marked. And so she worked her way around my naked body, each time striking me with the flogger's flap perfectly on the square indicated - I can say that because I've seen the video! After she had finished, Paula turned to her audience and asked: "OK, oo wants a go?" Ebony leapt from her recliner and grabbed the whip. Her first stroke wasn' t perfectly placed, and Paula pointed it out. Ebony frowned: "It's not as easy as it looks." Paula laughed: "Try it again, darlin." This time, the blow struck my marked target over the left nipple perfectly. After Ebony, who had to repeat her strokes several times before she landed a perfect strike, Aunty Pat had a go, and was much more proficient. Anita followed, then my aunt announced: "OK, that's enough flogging for a while - Ebony, time for your specialty!" The strikingly-built black domme stepped onto the mat, her leather boots gleaming, breasts bouncing. "On your back, big boy," she sneered and pushed me on my chest so I fell back onto the mat. Ebony stood above me, her snatch gleaming in the light. "Now we've established that you like golden showers and eating pussy, haven't we, slave?" she said. "Yes, Mistress Ebony," I answered. A sneer came across her face: "You'd better not be lying, slut!" Then she barked: "Legs and thighs close together!" I obeyed and Ebony then knelt until she was squatting above my groin. When she was ready, the lovely lecturer let loose with a strong stream of urine, which splashed warmly across my cock and balls, until it formed a yellow lake above my genitals which overflowed down my hips onto the mat. After she had completed pissing on me, Ebony lowered her crotch until her pussy was firmly in place on my shaft and then she rode her snatch up and down on my piss-drenched cock and balls. When she was satisfied that had done that for long enough, she knelt up above my face and with a haughty, sneering smile commanded: "Eat me, slave!" Her strongly-smelling pussy was then on my face, its urine-soaked contours giving off a strong aroma. As I worked on her big-lipped minge I heard a cry from one of the audience - it was the Londoner: "Well knock me darn wiv a fever - look at the filthy pervert, es got a fuckin' hard-on!" It was true. Despite the humiliating task set me by Mistress Ebony my cock was standing rigidly to attention. When she heard that news, the black beauty pulled away from my soaked mouth and said: "Time I freshened up a little, baby." She then lowered her pussy onto my groin once more graunched around before again presenting her piss-perfumed pussy to my mouth. Again, after a few moments of licking her there, I heard the appalling flog artiste call out: "Whatta fuckin' pervert - look, he's still fuckin' ard, the dirty little sod!" After her latest foray onto my face, Ebony called out: "Anyone want to freshen his cock and balls up for me?" I couldn't tell who it was who stood over my midriff and exploded a strong stream of urine onto me, but from subsequent viewing of the video I can say now it was the whip-wielding Paula. This time, Ebony did not soak her pussy with my urine-drenched cock and balls but rubbed her lovely large breasts all over them, before presenting the gleaming globes to my mouth. As I sucked, licked and laved at her boobs, the loud-mouthed Londoner was at it again with her comments: "Oooh, look at im, as ard as a copper's truncheon, the fuckin' perv!" And so the poolside party continued. Pony rides for Bobbi, whipping demonstrations from Paula and pussy and breast adoration for Ebony Finally, as the Arizona evening brought cooler conditions, Aunty Pat called a halt to the punishment party, and everyone trooped inside for a fine meal, before the domination trio departed, each one promising me to visit again. Paula and Bobbi? I didn't care if I never set eyes on them again. One was flat-chested and far too young - now I realize, of course, that I crave the domination of an older lady. The other was a loud-mouthed tart - great body, but none of the erotic style needed to make a slave like me hard. But Ebony was another story. As I kissed her good-bye, I whispered: " Please come back tomorrow, please!" She smiled at me and in a lovely husky voice replied: "Like they say in the movies, baby, tomorrow is another day!"

Aunty's Sex Slave Chapter 5 ============================================================================ ==== A couple of days after the poolside party and my embarrassingly gauche protestation of love for the statuesque Ebony, the 40-year-old black university lecturer, Aunty Pat, Anita and I were sitting having breakfast when the phone rang. Aunty spoke for several minutes, then hung up. "That was the general," she told Anita. "He needs us for a session." Then she turned to me: "The general is a rather kinky old gentleman who sometimes calls on our expertise for a lengthy session of punishment games. I' d tell him I was busy with my lovely young nephew from London, but he pays far too well to ignore." I nodded. "I'm sure I can enjoy myself while you're away, aunty," I told her. Aunty Pat smiled: "Yes, but I'm afraid those fucking gardeners of mine will enjoy themselves, too, and I don't trust them with you. I'm concerned they'll be too rough, my dear Rick. No, I have an alternative plan." And with that, she picked up the phone and dialed a number. "Hi, Ebony, it' s me, Pat. I wonder if you can do me a favor?" I listened with great interest. My penis started to thump in my shorts as I listened to Aunty Pat's side of the conversation. "Anita and I are needed out at the general's and since you live about a 10-minute drive away, I was wondering whether you'd mind baby sitting young Rick for the day." I crossed my fingers as my aunt listened to the response. Then I felt a wave of euphoria creeping over me as Aunty Pat replied: "Great, we'll drop him off at your place in an hour. Probably pick him up around 6 this evening, byeee." Aunty Pat grinned at me, noting the anticipation on my face. "Your favorite domme would love to look after you for the day," she smiled. "She's got one of her students over for a tutorial', as she calls them, later in the morning, but reckons it will be an educational experience for you. Now, off you go, shave that cock and balls smooth, then be ready to go in 20 minutes." I flashed into my bedroom shower cubicle, shaved - my face and down there - and presented myself in the lounge. Aunty and Anita were both dressed for a drive, Anita in a little chauffeur's outfit, Aunty in a black leather miniskirt and severe white blouse, which presented her 40-inch straining breasts superbly. Aunty smiled and stepped forward, holding a bright red rubber cape, with only an aperture for one's head to go through. She slipped it over me, the rubber rustling as it made contact with my bare skin, cold but slippery. She adjusted the neck collar so it was secure but not tight, then stepped back. "Perfect, darling," she laughed, "just what the domme ordered! Have a look at yourself in the mirror." I walked to a full length mirror in one side of the large lounge and saw the cape came to just below knee height. And then I saw something that I'd missed when aunty had draped the garment over me. In black lettering across the upper chest of the cape was the word "Slave". "OK, Rick," said aunty, when I had finished admiring the humiliating garb in the mirror, "pick up our two day bags and bring them out to the car, we' re off!" I picked up two bags which obviously contained aunty and Anita's domination gear for the session with the general, and took them out and stowed them in the capacious boot of the Lincoln Town car. Anita got behind the wheel, and aunty indicated I should join her in the back seat. Laying back against the black leather seat, aunty hiked her mini up over her haunches and I could see that we was not wearing panties. She put a hand beneath the hem of my ridiculous rubber cape and felt my stiff cock. "Right, Rick," she smiled, as Anita steered the big Lincoln out of the driveway at the end of the mile-long approach to the property, "I estimate the trip to Ebony's should be about a two orgasm ride." I nodded, aware that Aunty Pat's statement was also a command, and sank down onto the vehicle's lush carpeted floor and placed my mouth against my aunt's smooth and saturated snatch. Aunty Pat must have enjoyed cunnilingus on rides to Ebony's on previous occasions, for after her first orgasm she allowed me up onto the seat while she stroked by eight-inch stiffy for a few minutes, then ordering me back into action. She was just coming down from the high plateau of her second climax, when I felt the Lincoln turn off the road onto a driveway. Aunty smoothed her skirt down, stepped from the car and took me by the hand. I hesitated, looking around the street, fearful of being seen in my humiliating costume, but there was no one in sight. Hand in hand we walked the few yards to the front door where Ebony was waiting, clad in a toweling robe.. She ushered us in, pecked Aunty Pat on the cheek, looked at me and laughed: "Ridiculous outfit, Rick - it suits you. I think I might make you wear it all day." Aunty Pat then bid her farewells, telling her friend: "He's all yours till around 6 or 7 this evening, darling. And thanks so much for babysitting him for us." And with a swift kiss on my cheek, she was gone. "Follow me, Rick," said Ebony and the lushly-built 40-year-old led me into her kitchen area, then dropped the robe from her stunning body and stood nude before me, her breasts high and heavy, nipples starkly erect, trimmed bush dark and curlingly-inviting at her snatch. She threw me a quarter-cup leather bra which was lying on the kitchen table. "I know young studs like you are masters at removing ladies' bras, Rick, but let's see how good you are at putting em on." I placed the bra beneath her heavy, natural breasts and ran the slender black leather straps over her shoulders before clipping the back of the garment. She adjusted the sexy garment slightly and kissed me on the mouth, at the same time running one hand beneath my cape and fondling my erection. "Well done, stud, now the garter belt," she whispered in my ear. The belt was made of matching black leather and I adjusted it over her lovely hips. Ebony then stepped into a pair of red PVC stockings, which gleamed

on her lovely legs in shocking contrast to the black leather of her two other garments. I was made to attach the garter belt straps to the stockings. Finally, she pulled on a pair of ankle-length black booties which gave her almost the same height as me, then led me onto a couchette at the side of the kitchen. "Now, let me tell you about my lovely student, the naughty Nikki," she said, pouring me a cup of black coffee. "She's 19-years-old, body to die for and my best pupil. She's also a raving masochist. You'll like her." I also liked the way Ebony was stroking my cock. "But I'm a slave, mistress, it says so here," I protested, pointing to the lettering on my rubber cape. "Cut out the mistress' crap, Rick," she snapped. "This morning you're going to do what I tell you to do with Nikki and in the afternoon I'm gonna fuck your brains out - among other things. Clear?" I nodded: "Yes, mistress." Ebony glared: "I said cut out the mistress' crap, for fuck's sake." Suddenly, the door bell rang once, twice, sounding urgent. "That'll be our naughty Nikki," said Ebony, pushing away her coffee mug. "Sit there, I' ll bring her in, do the introductions and then we'll go down to the games room - nowhere near as luxurious as your aunty's, but it serves the purpose." Soon Ebony was back with a shortish little brunette, with close-cropped hair, big brown eyes and what appeared to be a figure that would put a horn on a corpse. "Rick, this is Nikki," said the university lecturer, "she comes for a tutorial - only it usually turns out to be a correctional!" Nikki laughed and smiled a huge, come-fuck-me smile. "Hi Rick, pleasure to meet you - love that outfit!" I blushed beetroot red. Then Nikki stepped forward and held out her hand to shake mine. She was wearing a little T-shirt which strained across her busty 34-inch breasts. The logo on it read "I'm not perfect, but parts of me aren't bad!" The logo was a lie - she was perfect. A little white tennis skirt came achingly high on her sun-tanned legs, little white sox and sparklingly-new Nike trainers completed her outfit. "Have a feel, Nikki, he won't mind," said Ebony, and the young woman placed a delightfully small hand beneath my cape and stroked along my eight inches of rigid cock. "Wow, Miss Ebony," she cried, "he's really rather nice. And uncut!" Ebony smiled. "Yes, you can explore him more intimately in a short while. Now, let's get you stripped and we can go down to the basement." I stood, mouth gaping, as Nikki placed her study books on the kitchen table, peeled off her T-shirt to reveal mouth-watering breasts, full, round globes, which even without the confines of a bra were bunched so as to be touching in the cleavage region. She unzipped her tennis skirt, threw it on the couchette alongside her T-shirt and stepped out of a tiny pair of white knickers. Her mons was covered in a trimmed brown thatch, but the rest of her pubes were shaved, just leaving a light brown line around the outer sex lips. My cock strained at the rubber cape, producing a tent-like effect as Nikki turned to present a glorious arse to my view while she bent to remove her sox and shoes. From her tan it was obvious that she sunbathed naked! "Right, let's go," said Ebony, leading the way in her quarter-cup bra, garter belt and PVC stockings, me in my humiliating red rubber cape and Nikki, totally nude. Once inside the games room- nowhere near as large as Aunty Pat's but containing most of the requisite equipment as far as I could see - Ebony walked to an easy chair, sat back in it and splayed her legs wide, thighs resting on its arms. "Time for my first orgasm of the day, Nikki," she announced. "Get to work. " The 19-year-old quickly knelt in front of the statuesque black woman's pussy and began to lick at her exposed charms. "Interesting, Rick," said Ebony, "her first target of attention is my anus. What do you make of that?" I pondered. "Er, that's she's a true submissive, Miss Ebony," I responded, using Nikki's form of address for the dominatrix. Ebony laughed. "A typical slave's response, dear Rick," she said, " always trying to rationalize submissiveness. Haven't you considered it could just be that she likes the tangy taste of my arsehole?" But a reply from me became unnecessary as Ebony reacted to Nikki's change of direction. "Ooooh, yes, lick my cunt, push your tongue up it, Nikki, higher!" cried Ebony. Moments later, Ebony was urging her slave on again: "Time to caress that clit, Nikki, piss flaps first, lovely, lovely, now the clit, yes, yes!" And very soon, the lovely black domina was moaning and grunting as her climax rocked her. After she had calmed down, Ebony pushed the lovely 19-year-old's face from her pussy and smiled down at her: "Time for the pillory, my pet. Be so kind as to bring it center stage!" Nikki brought the pillory, which had four sets of castor wheels set in the base for portability, into the middle of the room. Ebony, in the meantime, had placed a metal bowl on the carpeted floor and was squatting over it. I watched with fascination as the 40-year-old let loose a strong stream of piss which must have flowed for at least 45 seconds. She then stood and Nikki picked up the bowl and set it in a holder on the main support plank of the pillory, immediately below the opening for a prisoner's head. The girl then knelt in front of her domina and, after Ebony had spread her stance with feet wide, she licked lovingly at the woman's pussy. "OK, into place, my darling," said Ebony, and Nikki bent her upper body and placed her wrists and neck in the cut outs on the pillory's upper beam, while Ebony lowered the upper half and bolted her into place. Nikki's upper body was now horizontal to the floor, her superb breasts hanging gloriously. "Now, while I breast feed this lovely little slave, you go down on your knees Rick and taste her pussy - tell me if she's aroused," Ebony commanded. I quickly knelt behind the stunning arse and ran my tongue over her puckered little anus before going down to her cunt lips. The student's pussy was awash with sex juice! "She's very, very aroused, Miss Ebony," I reported. "Good, then feed her those eight inches you're so proud of," said the black woman. I stood, then heard the domina add: "And take off that fuckin' stupid cape!" I did and then, stiffy swaying and dripping pre-cum, I stepped behind the lovely slave's backside and held her hips before guiding my cock into her smooth little cunt. As I thrust back and forth, I saw that Ebony was seated on a stool in front of the pillory and was dipping her breasts into the bowl of urine, then presenting her globes to Nikki for oral adoration. Soon I started to pant as I felt the excitement of an orgasm begin to course through my thrusting body and Ebony ordered: "Pull out, Rick, not time to come yet." I pulled my cock, its helmet now pink and naked as the tightness of Nikki' s cunt had pulled the foreskin back to the ring, away from her sweet snatch. "Bring that thing round here," ordered Ebony. I stood beside the black woman. "There, Nikki, how'd you like to taste that?" Ebony asked her pilloried prisoner. Nikki grinned at us: "I'd like it just fine, Miss Ebony!" Ebony placed a hand on my arse and pushed me towards the girl's face. Her mouth closed over my cock head, sucking sweetly on its rigidity. Then Ebony spoke again: "Dip it in the bowl, Rick, give her a fresh taste treat!" I dipped about half the length of my cock into the warm yellow liquid and presented it back to the slave. Nikki opened her mouth and again swallowed me, thirstily sucking on my stiffness. "And again," ordered Ebony, and once more I immersed my cock head in the urine. Nikki lapped on it. "Right, time to warm that cheeky little arse of hers," said Ebony. "You' ll find her favorite paddle on the equipment bench - it's got the letters NN stamped on the end." I picked it up and hefted it. It was quite heavy. "Give her 25 strokes while she laps up the rest of this piss," said Ebony, dipping one of her large breasts into the bowl. I stepped behind Nikki's glorious arse and began to flog her buttocks, not going too swiftly and not too hard. I'd given her about 10, when Ebony stood up from the stool in front of Nikki and took the paddle from me. "I'll finish her off, you give her that piece of meat again - and Rick?" I paused, as I adjusted my cock, pulling the foreskin back up to cover my helmet. "Yes, Miss Ebony?" Ebony smiled broadly: "This time you can come!" I stood in front of Nikki's mouth and when I heard the first "Thwack" as the woman whipped the paddle onto the slave's arse, I placed my cock in her mouth. Nikki sucked on it eagerly, and by the time Ebony had burned the 25th stroke onto the girl's arse, I was grunting with pleasure as my ejaculate spurted through my shaft to explode down her throat. Ebony looked across at me and grinned. "See, Rick, there's something to this domination thing, isn't there?"

Aunty's Sex Slave Chapter 6 ============================================================================ ==== Aunty Pat and Anita called to collect me for the return drive home around 7pm. Ebony had been true to her word and had "fucked my brains out" after lunch, with the occasional visit to her torture chamber for some punishment games. So I was pretty exhausted by the time the car arrived to pick me up! Luckily, so was aunty! She and Anita had spent a hectic day satisfying the general's demands, so Aunty Pat only demanded one relaxing bout of cunnilingus from me on the drive home. The next morning, after breakfast, I put on sox and a pair of Nike trainers for my pony boy session, which was carried out this time by Anita, who enjoyed three orgasms on our way round the route. She allowed me to enjoy a relaxing plunge in the pool when we returned, and was standing by in a shiny little PVC bikini ready to hand me my towel when I emerged naked from the water. As I dried, Anita informed me: "Report to your aunt's bedroom, she wants to talk to you." I knocked on aunty's door and entered. Aunty Pat was sitting on the side of the bed wearing her stunning PVC playsuit, with its open front for her breasts and crotch. It was her favorite outfit for punishment games. Aunty looked at me and patted the bed beside her. "Sit here, darling," she said, in a low voice. I did so. Then she turned and looked intently into my eyes before kissing me gently on the cheek. "I'm afraid I've got some very bad news, Rick, very bad indeed," she told me. I was only 20 at the time, but I wasn't stupid. I knew immediately it concerned my father. "What's happened to my father, Pat?" I asked. "I'm afraid he's dead, darling," she replied. "I've just had a call from your stepmom, something about a yellow sports car and a truck on the M4, is it?" I nodded dumbly. The yellow sports car would be the Lamborghini, which father always drove too fast for his expertise. Then the tears began to flood down my cheeks. Aunty Pat leaned against me, patted me on the head, soothingly, and I pressed my face against her lovely big boobs, my tears cascading over them. Then, to my surprise, I felt myself licking and kissing at aunty's big breasts. My tears were still flowing, but for some reason I needed to obtain comfort from her lovely 40-inch mammaries. I licked and sucked and soon her nipples were hard to my touch. I pushed aunty back onto the bed, then climbed aboard, amazed at how, in such a moment of grief, my cock could stand up to rigid attention. Aunty sighed as I plunged into her and then she resumed stroking my head, comforting me with small words, as I pumped and pumped my way to a pulsating ejaculation. The next day, I was packed and Anita, dressed once more in her sharp little chauffeur's outfit, and Aunty Pat, dressed in very formal black, took me all the way to Los Angeles for a night flight to London. I was met at Heathrow by Johnson, father's faithful retainer, in the Rolls - why couldn't father have been driving the Rolls on the M4? - and we drove to the Mayfair apartments, where my stepmother was waiting. Karla, a stunningly-attractive 35-year-old brunette, was dressed in a simple, stark little black dress which did nothing to hide her fine figure. Her big brown eyes were red and rimmed with tears and exhaustion. She gave me a

tender hug, the first time she had ever showed me any outward emotion. On the table in the lounge newspapers were scattered, The Times, the Guardian, the Daily Telegraph and the tabloids, all with large stories about father. The heavier papers carried obituaries on him, and the Telegraph even had a mention for me. "The dashing 20-year-old Rick, like his father a devotee of fast cars and fast women on the night club circuit, is destined to take over his father's empire," it raved. Stupid fucking obituary writers! The funeral was, thank goodness, a quiet affair, although several members of Fleet Street's finest managed to snap picture of my poor stepmother in all her grief, the bastards! About a week after the funeral, Mr. Snipcock arrived at our Mayfair apartments. My father's trusted solicitor was ushered into the apartments by Johnson and received by my stepmother and myself in what had been father's office. Mr. Snipcock read the will, and quite honestly it was all way above my head. I was trained in engineering, not legalese, so at the end of his dreary recitation, I asked: "Now, Mr. Snipcock, could you please translate into simple English for me and, I assume, my mother." The doddery old solicitor smiled indulgently and nodded: "Of course, Master Rick. It will be my pleasure. "Your father has left his homes in Paris, Wentworth, Manhattan and Sydney, Australia, along with these rooms in Mayfair to your mother, plus an annuity of 10 million pounds. "He has left the residue of the estate, his industrial empire, his fleet of cars - er, minus the Lamborghini, of course - to you. You will receive an annuity of 20,000 pounds a year until you are 30 years of age. "In that time, you will be under the care of your mother, who will administer the expenditure of your annuity. You are, in effect, to be her ward until you reach 30. Then the estate devolves to you, except the properties, of course." My stepmother stood and smoothed her dress over her lovely thighs and bum. "I think it's all very straight forward, Mr. Snipcock," she said in her slight American drawl. "Thank you for coming, Johnson will show you out." She rang a bell and Johnson arrived to remove the old man from our presence. Karla then turned to me. "When that slimy old bastard has left, you can give Johnson the rest of the day off. I don't want him snooping around. And when Johnson's gone, I want you in here - nude!" The word "nude" rang out like a pistol shot. And then, of course, it dawned on me. I was now under her control! And her first example of that control was to order me to report to her naked! Johnson eagerly accepted his day off, there was a race meeting at Ascot he wanted to attend and could he take the Rolls? I gave him permission and he was soon out of the house. In my bedroom I stripped and was interested to see that the thought of reporting to Karla naked had caused me to have an erection. I tapped on the door to my father's study - now her study! - and heard her answer "Come!" I stepped inside and closed the door. Karla smiled at my nudity and the erection it revealed. "Very nice, Rick,"

she commented, "bring that thing over here." I walked to where she was seated, and she spun the swivel chair around and placed her mouth over the helmet of my erection and sucked sweetly on it. Christ, she had a great mouth! Pulling back, Karla then handed me an envelope. "There's a letter in there which Aunty Pat put into your baggage before the flight from LA," she informed me. "Remove it and read it to me." I found the letter and pulled it out, then placed the envelope back on my father's - wrong, again, HER desk. I started to read. This was the letter: "Darling Sis, Hope everything is clearing up for you now after the awful bereavement. Here, as you requested, is my report on Rick's slave training. We were lucky to find on his arrival that he was into lovely ladies and female domination, so it was easy to get his training started, although even if he hadn't bought the magazine in that LA sex shop, we'd have found another excuse very quickly! Young Rick is extremely useful at cunnilingus and gives lovely orgasms. Anita - she sends her love, by the way - says he is also a very competent fuck, although I can only report on one fuck from him, which occurred under somewhat trying circumstances, so I will excuse the rapidity with which he came. He is an accomplished pony boy and with very strong shoulders and neck muscles can provide his rider with several orgasms during a lengthy ride. Young Rick is very stoic when undergoing floggings and can even maintain an erection during many whip games. He is also quite capable of staying erect during mild cock and ball torture! He also has a penchant - hope I've spelled that right - for water sports, keeping a hard-on while worshipping at piss-smeared pussy and even while drinking the stuff! You're going to be a very lucky lady! I hope you approve of the way he's been trained. I look forward to working him over with you when I visit in a month or two. All the best, your loving sis. Patricia." "Thank-you, Rick," smiled my stepmother, "that was an excellent report card. You have obviously been a very capable student, but then I thought you would." I was still stunned by the fact that it had obviously been Karla's intention all along to have me turned into a slave! Karla then picked up the envelope and shook dozens of glossy color prints from it. She pored over them for some while, asking me questions about some of them, wanting to know who some of the participants were. "Who's this?" she asked, pointing to a print showing Ebony smearing me with her pussy on the rubber mat, the first time I had met her. "Ebony," I replied. "Ebony, mother," snapped Karla. "Sorry," I stammered, "Ebony, mother." "Ah yes, she's the black bird you fancy," smiled Karla. "And yes, this next picture shows you with a very nice hard on as you work on her smelly pussy. Wonderful!" And with that, Karla stood and turned her back to me. "Unzip me, Rick," she ordered, and with trembling fingers I ran the zip at the nape of her neck down. As it ran past her shoulder blades I saw gleaming black satin straps, then over the small of her back more gleaming black satin from her garter belt. I ran the zip down to the hem of the dress and saw that she was not wearing panties! Her buttocks were sensational! "Throw it on that chair, Rick," said Karla and I obeyed, tossing the little black dress away. The long-legged beauty then turned to face me - and I fell in love! Her bra was a quarter cup job, revealing lovely firm breasts - at 36 inches nowhere near the size of Aunty Pat's but incredibly mouth-watering nonetheless. Karla obviously shaved her pussy. There was merely a small splotch of dark brown hair at her mons. Beneath it her sex was shaved, the lips red and inviting. Her lovely legs were encased in gleaming black seamed stockings. Her black high heeled stilettos similarly were agleam in the study's bright lighting. "Kneel, Rick," said Karla, trying but failing to hide the excitement in her voice. I knelt below her, my cock straining and aching for her touch once more. Then she placed one foot up on the chair by the desk, completely exposing herself to my gaze, her calf shapely in the black sheath of the stocking. "Kiss me," she ordered. I raised my head to her pussy and kissed at the sweet-smelling snatch. "I think I'll start the way I intend to carry on," Karla said, looking down at me in a haughty manner that I was soon to know very well. "Open wide!" I opened my mouth. She urinated. And she tasted just like Aunty Pat .....

Aunty's Sex Slave Epilogue: ============================================================================ ==== That was all 16 years ago. I've now inherited the industrial empire and my

stepmother, now an extremely attractive 51-year-old has remarried, some Swiss watch tycoon. I think he's a submissive! Anita saved her earnings from Aunty Pat and has now opened an extremely discreet dungeon premises in Beverly Hills. I visit from time to time and enjoy her services. She's put on a bit of weight, but she's still a great fuck - and a great domina! Aunty Pat still lives at the place outside Flagstaff, is now 54 and hasn't put on an ounce. She's married to some Hollywood mogul. I hardly ever see her, her visits to Karla are in Geneva and I understand the movie mogul is a possessive type. Knowing Aunty Pat, I'd also bet he's a submissive type, too! Ebony - now 56 - now lectures around the world on her specialty subject, the rapidly-diminishing Amazon rain forest. She also appears often on television discussing the rape of the jungle and has written a book. I still have the pictures of her playing with me all those years ago. The little Latino gardeners were arrested by the police. The man they'd been over-zealous with in the brothel had hired a private detective to track them down, but he dropped charges when they agreed to be deported. Both now work in a Mexico City brothel, double teaming as "The Princesses of Pain". Whatever happened to Paula and Bobbi I don't know, and don't care. I am married to a lovely little blonde, some 10 years younger than me, and we have two delightful children. She has absolutely no interest in dominating me, but then a lot of wives don't, do they? I maintain my interest in female domination by using a large house specially equipped for the role in a quiet part of Reading. There I can whistle up on call an exquisite black lady - as a reminder of Ebony - a lovely young blonde and a raven-haired young Asiatic beauty. Each is extremely capable when it comes to female domination! On top of all that, I sometimes find the need to masturbate. I'm not unfaithful, like so many masturbators, who need vast libraries of porn to keep them going in the stroking department. I still stick with that wonderful femdom magazine I purchased all those years ago in LA. You may remember me mentioning it, it was entitled Mistress Knows Best. I'll say she does!