Bully Ch. 13

James guided Beattie down between Alicia's thighs which was something she had never done before. Sucking, licking, biting, and just as it had been done to her, she carried on until Alicia cum. The slave-girl put on a show when she climaxed, by writhing around, lifting her hips, and thumping her heels into the bed.

Beattie was proud of her part in giving the slave-girl an orgasm. There was a satisfied smile on her face, and she stroked Alicia's long blond hair. They all rested for awhile, getting their breath back, yet the two still stroked and teased Beattie.

Alicia whispered to Beattie so as not to wake James, saying, 'Let's get him going, it's his turn.'

Beattie nodded, as her excitement level upped another notch.

'You take his cock while it's small, then I'll take over. You won't be able to manage it,' Alicia pointedly said.

Beattie sucked his cock into her mouth, and thought she would show the slave-girl how she could cope. Not having sucked a cock since college, she began to realise how unprepared she was. This one was larger than she was used to, and was threatening to choke her.

Not daring to swallow it, she bulged out a cheek as much as she could, while gripping it tight with her lips, and tongue. A moment of fright brought a terrible thought. Why was she doing this? Sucking on a young guys cock was so very wrong, yet she couldn't stop herself.

He shot hot semen down her throat, she choked, pulled back, and felt him spurt his load over her face, and chest. Oh! Shit! She was naked on his bed, playing disgraceful sexual perversions.

Alicia scooped up his cum and pushed it between Beattie's lips. For some reason she couldn't say no, though the word was silently practiced. She just lay there exhausted, letting it happen. She must have swallowed all of the boy's cum because the tow pulled her close to cuddle and say soothing words of comfort.

Beattie fell asleep, too tired to care anymore.

***

Beattie woke late and with a small cry, pulled the sheets to cover her naked body.

'Why? How in hell?' she whispered, while looking around the room, afraid of seeing either one of them.

She had committed terrible sins last night. Why had she let them corrupt her? How had they made her let loose her strict moral code. She had always kept a strict control of herself, not allowing herself to be tempted. Last night she had given in to her baser animal instincts.

When she got home she would burn those nasty Gor books. They had allowed the worm of a devil to enter her head, and gnaw away at her self control, obliterating her fine moral standards.

Beattie showered and returned to the bedroom to get dressed, only she couldn't find her clothes. Draped in a towel she padded on bare feet to the kitchen, where sounds and smells of cooking could be heard.

'Err, morning Alicia. I can't find my clothes,' Beattie timidly spoke.

After the antics of last night, she felt bad, and that everyone would judge her, even Alicia and James.

'I'm not sure what clothes you are to wear, have you been told?' Alicia said, while dishing up eggs and bacon.

'What do you mean? I was looking for my clothes, the ones I arrived in,' Beattie said, looking lost and vulnerable.

Standing in someone's kitchen, wearing just a towel, was new to her and she didn't know the protocol. There were always rules of behaviour and she was at a loss to know what they were in these circumstances.

'Out master will decide what clothes you are to wear. I expect it will include stockings and suspenders for you,' Alicia told the woman. 'Because you have long shapely legs,' Alicia added, when Beattie looked puzzled and concerned.

'Have some breakfast, and you'll feel much better,' Alicia said.

She wasn't too happy about having a rival for her master's attention. He'd promised this woman was just a distraction, and wouldn't be here long. Beattie was just something for them both to play with.

Before she could sit down, James walked in looking bright and breezy.

'Morning, slaves,' he happily said, and of course he was happy.

James had two mature women, beautiful MILFS, at his disposal, so of course he was feeling on top of the world. Beattie had been given cookies laced with weed, and had consequently been in a relaxed mood. The straight woman had come across too easily, but he found out she had a thing about being a slave-girl.

She'd revealed the fetish during their session on the sofa, which explained the easy submission, and deference to him. James hadn't so much conquered her, as released her natural reserve, so she could live a favourite fantasy.

This morning she looked tender, shy, and very ashamed of what she had done last night. He grabbed her before she could say anything, which was probably a complaint, or worse. Not giving her time to raise a defence, he pulled her tight against his body and deeply kissed her. His hands went down to grab her cheeks pulling her against his hardness.

Her normal response would have been outrage, followed by shouting at the naughty boy. Opening her mouth to say something, he took hold of her mouth in a big strong hand to stop her, then explained her position.

'I'm your master, you know that after last night. We'll keep it between us, so know one need know you are my slave-girl. All you need say is, yes master, and thank you master,' James heavily told her.

He pulled her close so she could whisper in his ear. He could feel her brain ticking over trying to find an alternative to what he wanted from her. He slapped her bottom to reinforce his words, and repeated them. The message sunk in, that she was being blackmailed into being his slave-girl.

Reluctantly she responded as an alternative couldn't be thought of, 'Yes, master, thank you, master,' she murmured.

The stunned weary state she was in was a good reason to give up the booze. Maybe if she had been wide awake and functioning on all four cylinders, she might have fought the boy, or even found a way out of the mess. As it was her muzzy mind was so messed up she just stood there mesmerised by him.

He pulled the towel from her body, leaving her naked. Standing in a neighbour's kitchen, naked, bemused, and thoroughly defeated, she felt like a slave-girl. All those stories of Gor flooded her mind, adding to her confusion.

'Sit down and eat breakfast. Afterwards I'll get you some clothes. I'll tell you the rules of this house, which you will abide by, slave-girl,' he firmly stated.

'Yes, master, thank you, master,' Beattie meekly replied.

Alicia looked the woman over, carefully noting her attributed her master would be interested in. The bitches breasts were bigger, and her legs were longer, maybe more shapely too. Alicia was happy that she looked younger, and sexier, than this woman. Her master just wanted to conquer her and play with her like a cat with a mouse.

Alicia was the only permanent slave here, and would fight to keep the position. It was only after Beattie had been tamed that she thought of herself as his permanent slave-girl. Up until yesterday it had been one of two games, either playing at being a airhead, or his slave. Now she needed to be his favourite slave-girl, or lose all she had.

***

After breakfast she felt better, and able to cope with being naked. Mulling things over, she reasoned that as an adult, that outweighed anything that boy could do or say. The idea of being that boy's slave-girl was a non-starter. Whatever he thought he had over her, could be denied. She wasn't going to be manipulated by a mere boy.

'I want my clothes back,' Beattie asserted.

She looked determined and sounded forceful, more like her old self. Without a drink or drugs she had a clear head. Standing up to her full height, she looked down on Alicia, just an inch, but it was enough to boost her ego.

'Where is he, that bad boy,' she asked.

Calling him a bad boy seemed a totally inadequate description. He was evil and so was his accomplice. What they had done to her was so very wrong, she didn't have words to describe it.

'Are, there you are! I want my clothes, now!' she demanded.

James wrapped his arms around the woman, and deeply kissed her. Beattie tried to back away, but she was engulfed by the big guy. Before she could say a word his mouth enveloped hers. Trying to push him away was useless, so she stopped trying. It was terrible to feel his tongue invade her mouth, as though he were taking her down there.

Right here in a normal kitchen where she just had breakfast, a young guy was taking her! It was like having sex with a stranger in the street, in front of everyone. Not struggling enough was wrong! She should at least kick him. Maybe biting his tongue would stop him taking advantage of her.

Hearing her panting breath, she figured it was panic and fear. When she nestled up against him, it dawned upon her something was very wrong. Despite the thought of how bad this was, her emotions were the opposite. She was panting with desire!

He was a good kisser. He was big and strong. He was a handsome young guy. That didn't make it alright!

'I told you, Mrs Morgan, there is no need to be frightened. I'll keep your secret so long as you are a good girl and obey your master. You don't have to worry about anything at all, you just say, yes master, and, thank you master. You can do that can't you?' he asked.

'Yes, master, thank you, master,' she quietly said.

Mrs Morgan was losing her wits. All she could think of was James abusing her. The fear of her sordid actions being revealed to the world was all consuming, wiping out all other thoughts. It was eating her up with anxiety. Someone must be told, just to share the problem, and better still, suggesting a way out of this torment.

Who could she tell? The police would have to make it a big production, or do nothing at all. She might as well confront her bully and call his bluff, rather than go to the police. Mrs Morgan was in no doubt, that if she didn't cooperate with the boy, he would have a fit of temper, and put everything up on the internet.

If anyone saw those video's her reputation would be ruined. More than that, her marriage would be over. Everyone would know how weak willed she was, or think she enjoyed being a boy's mistress.

Shit! Not a mistress, she was his slave-girl. That's what he said. Oh! Hell! He demanded she call him master, and she had. Whatever it was he was doing to her, it was working. The boy was beating her into submission, and she was capitulating.

***

Alicia gave her a dressing gown to wear, while they tidied up the kitchen. Beattie lost herself in the usual everyday activity of completing chores, trying not to think about what was happening to her. Once home there would be time to think, without the boy's influence. It would take some effort but she would find a way to escape his stupid blackmail attempt.

The chores had been finished so Alicia and Beattie walked into his study, looking to be dismissed. Alicia wore her usual short flared skirt, and a skimpy top. Beattie wore a short house coat, and nothing else. With a forced determination, she stood before him, trying hard to maintain her integrity. Still needing some decent clothes to return home, she had to play along for the moment.

'These are the house rules, Mrs Morgan. Are you paying attention?' James patiently asked.

'Yes, alright, get on with it,' she returned.

'Not alright, Mrs Morgan. You're not paying me respect with that attitude,' he said, as though talking to a child.

'Don't patronise me, I'm a mature woman, and you are just a naughty boy, so get that clear. I'm the one who should be respected, and don't forget it,' she demanded.

'Yes, Mrs Morgan, that's right, you should be respected,' he said, in a conciliatory tone of voice. 'Should be, is right. How can I respect you after those filthy things you've done? Well? What do you say to that? Will anyone respect you when they see those video's on the internet? The evidence of your indecent acts are ready to go on the internet, any time you want to stop being my plaything. Come on, tell me, who is to be respected now? You, or me?' he heavily demanded.

'Oh, well, err, you, I guess, it's you, sorry,' she admitted.

'Sorry isn't enough. You need a reminder of your position in my house, a punishment for being disrespectful. Turn around, and bend over that chair. Go on, no excuses, do as you are told,' he said, with a mischievous grin on his face.

She turned around, but had to be forcefully pushed over the chair. Even though she was bending over, exposing her bare ass, Mrs Morgan continued to complain. This deplorable situation just couldn't be taken in. It was all too much for her.

'Please, you can't do this to me. I'm an adult, I can't be spanked! You're just a boy, you can't spank me! I'm a respectable woman, I'm married! I don't want to be hurt, please, James, please don't spank me!' she cried out.

'That's another punishment due, for complaining and squirming,' he told her.

'Ouch! Stop it!' she said, through gritted teeth.

'Ouch! You can't do this to me!'

'Ouch! That hurt!'

'Ouch! I'm sorry, I really am,' she whined.

'Ouch! Alright, I'll be good, I'll do as you want.'

'Ouch! Whatever you want, just tell me, and I'll do it.'

'Anything?' he asked.

When she hesitated he slapped her ass, harder this time.

'Owww! Owww! Yes, anything you want, I promise!'

'You'll be a good girl, obedient, and servile?' he asked, wanting to hear her squirm.

'Ouch! Please, stop! I'll be a good girl, I promise!'

'Ouch! Yes, yes, I, promise, really I will!'

'Ouch! I promise to be a good girl, obedient, and servile.'

'Good girl. Now listen to the rules,' he heavily told her.

'Yes, master, thank you, master,' Beattie dutifully said.

'You will be obedient, and try your hardest to be what I want you to be. No questioning orders, you will do as you are told. You promised to be obedient, and servile, and that is what you will be. You are my slave-girl, what are you?' he shot at her.

'I, err, I'm your slave-girl, master,' she hesitantly spoke.

Saying the words did something to her. Her stomach cramped. It felt as though she were in a different world, where masters and slaves existed. Her fantasy had come true, where she was owned, and having to obey a strict master.

'Yes, master, your slave shall obey her master, and not let her master down,' Beattie dutifully said.

The sound of her voice was very different to before, and Alicia and James looked at each other. He winked at Alicia, trying to reassure her.

'Go to your room, and prepare yourself, slave-girl. Wear something appropriate, and return,' he ordered.

When she left, James pulled Alicia onto his lap for a cuddle.

'It will be interesting to see what she wears. Shall I send her home this evening?' he asked.

'It's up to you, master,' Alicia said, slipping into calling him master.

He duly noted the term, Alicia used, knowing they were competing against each other for his attention. The woman had her own private reasons for being a slave-girl, and Alicia didn't want to be left out of the game.

Even when Beattie was complaining, her body betrayed her, with nipples hardening, and standing with feet apart. The woman had been heating up all morning, and right now she was a bitch in heat, making it easy to accept his demands.

For the rest of the day he teased her by demanding her presence, then ordering her away on errands. Each time he summoned her, she thought he might use her, only to be disappointed.

In the house he figured she was safe enough, and wouldn't shake off the feeling of being his slave-girl. He looked up Gor on the internet, to find out what she had been reading. He needed to fit in with her image of a master, and treat her like a slave. It kept her responding and playing the part.

'Come here slave-girl. Alicia, my slave can carry on with dinner. You are to practice your slave positions,' he told her.

It was funny how eagerly she assumed a position, showing off her body. He kept her at it, to tire her out. She wasn't as young as she thought she was, and had difficulty reaching some positions. She'd memorised a few from the books, and for others he guided her.

'Very good, slave-girl. I might keep you, rather than sell you on,' he told her, for her to smile with gratitude.

This was a dangerous game to play as she would snap out of it once home. She would certainly remember this game, and might come back for more. Or more probably keep away, just using the memories for naughty bath-time dreams.

Beattie and Alicia served him dinner in the lounge, then afterwards the women ate in the kitchen. In the lounge Alicia caught up with James, while Beattie cleared up in the kitchen.

'How did you do that to her? I mean, how did you enslave the woman?' Alicia asked, with a touch of wonder in her voice.

'She did it to herself. She used to read John Norman books. Gor? Never mind, I'll explain later. She was into slave-girl fantasies and I just presented myself as a master, and she did the rest. How is she with you?' James asked.

'Okay I guess. The woman does as she's told, though she seems to be in a dream world all the time. Beattie always presented herself as a pillar of the community, Mrs Housewife, though a bit of a battle axe too. She's known for gossiping acidly about other women not up to her standards,' Alicia sharply said.

'Well, she's not above anyone now, though we can't tell anyone about her fall from grace,' he chuckled. 'Not yet anyway,' he warned Alicia.

When all the chores had been completed, Beattie presented herself to her master. Cleaning the house better than Alicia wasn't something Alicia was jealous over. It wasn't something she would be bothered to compete over with the damn woman.

Standing to attention, wearing a micro-mini skirt, and a boob tube, Beattie looked ridiculous. Alicia had a baby face, with long blond hair, and a girly giggle, so she could get away with it.

James pointed to the carpet at his feet. Beattie scrambled onto the floor, and assumed her slave position. It was her favourite rather than his, as James didn't have a particular preference. She'd obviously imagined herself striking this pose when reading the slave stories.

On her haunches, with hands upturned on her knees, she held her breasts out, and at the same time managed to drop her head in supplication to her master. With knees spread her sex was on show, and as usual it was gleaming wetly. Just being there serving her master had her worked up.

'Come with me slave,' James told her.

In the spare bedroom, used as Alicia's dressing room, he found her something else to wear. Standing still, with head bowed, she awaited her masters instructions.

'Help me with this, Alicia,' he said.

After dressing her up, he stood back to admire his slave.

'There, that looks perfect,' he said.

A bright steel collar circled her neck, with chains dangling from the collar joined to cuffs at her wrists and ankles.

'These chains are called a sirik,' he told Alicia, who wasn't that interested.

He was giving the damn woman too much attention, as far as she was concerned.

'You need to get your lips pierced, down here,' he told her, and gripped her seeping sex.

'You can spend the rest of the day chained, slave,' he told her.

'Yes, master, thank you, master,' Beattie dutifully said.

It took awhile to get used to taking small steps, and not being able to reach out very far, while wearing the sirik. With determination, she got the hang of it. It felt as though this was a mark of her permanent enslavement, and that she would be a slave-girl forever. This is how it was in the novels, when a woman was captured, and enslaved.

It was important to please her master, or he would sell her on as a wayward and undisciplined slave. A trainer would break her, making her an obedient slave, or she might end up sold into a brothel. There would be no rest from sex, and she would have no time or strength to be disobedient. Taking men back to her room, one after another for them to use her, was a dire prospect.