Lacy and Stacy are mirror image twins who have run wild over their father, Chief Master Victor Bartholomew. They come to W and ask him to build a machine that can determine which of the pair is Mistress and which is the sub so they can join their father's club. After some careful consideration, W agrees. This story is rather mild, sex-wise and bdsm-wise, but overall has a nice pleasant glow to it. It will especially appeal to those who are into machine-themed stories. In any case, I think you will like it.
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WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.
All characters involved in sexual activity in this story are over the age of 18. If you are under the age of 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.
Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2020 by The Technician.
Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden.
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There are few things that upset me more than a client who comes to me at the last minute. And right now I am pretty upset. The annual party for the local BDSM club in which I am actually a member was coming up and I already had more than enough work to do. But as the date got close, I got multiple texts, emails, and voice mails all of which began, "W, would it be possible..."
Some wanted rather standard equipment but wanted it immediately. Luckily, I had most of what they wanted in stock. Some wanted specialized equipment that no amount of money could make happen in the time available. Some wanted... well, they didn't know what they hell they wanted. And then there were the twins.
Lacy and Stacy were RBB twins. RBB is a notation I use in my personal files. It stands for Rich Bitch Brat. That doesn't mean I won't do work for them. I work for some pretty nasty people, so petty, spoiled brats are not a problem. As long as someone doesn't want an assassination device or some kind of pure torture equipment or a device that would do permanent bodily harm, I don't care what kind of personality someone has. As long as their money is good, I will build what they want. And for most of my clients their money is good... and plentiful.
Unfortunately, many of their children are brats. So I have to regularly deal with RBBs and RABs. The A stands for asshole. Somehow it doesn't feel right to me to call a female an asshole, though I have met a few for whom the epithet actually fits. And I've met a few males who qualify more for the bitch moniker. The twins were definitely RBBs.
Lacy and Stacy were spoiled brats growing up. When they turned twenty-one and their full trusts became available to them, they got worse. Their dad, Victor Bartholomew, knew they were brats. He once said, "I wish I could blame their mother for them being spoiled, but I'm the Master of the house. I'm the one who did it."
Victor was afraid that his Master-slave relationship with their mother, Barbara- known in the club as slave babs- might bleed into his parenting. It did, but in reverse. He was so afraid that he would be too masterful over his children that he basically let them run feral. They grew up pretty wild and had several run-ins with the law. When they were nineteen, they and several of their college friends, got arrested when the cops busted a free-for-all drug-induced orgy in the middle of the town park. The arresting officer told them, "I would think that children of Chief Master Victor would know what was allowed and what wasn't tolerated in this town."
After daddy had bailed them out and paid the fines, they wanted to know what this "Chief Master" thing was all about. He tried to put them off, but they pushed pretty hard. And it is hard enough for a father to resist one daughter batting her big doe eyes at him. When two do it in unison, resistance becomes almost impossible. He told them what Chief Master meant... sort of. The BDSM club scene is something that is better experienced than described. They were made probationary members of the club and classified as "neutrals." That is the same designation used for a spouse who knows of her husband's- or his wife's- membership, but does not participate as a Master or a submissive.
Last year they attended the annual munch as observers... more or less. Their eyes got really wide the first time they saw their mother naked at their father's feet. Their eyes- and their mouths- got even wider as they witnessed some of the activities of the club. Nothing- except the actual Master/slave relationships- was anything that they, themselves, hadn't already seen, done, or participated in. What was surprising to them was that someone as old and uncool as their parents did any of that. Chief Master Daddy was a little surprised himself that both of his daughters knew how to tie some of the complicated bondage knots that were used for various activities during the night.
This year is the last year that the twins can attend as probationary members. At this year's meeting- if they desire to remain members- they have to declare themselves as Mistresses or submissives and request full membership. If they chose Mistress, they will have to find a submissive... and a mentor who will guide them in the proper rules, expectations, and responsibilities of that position. If they choose submissive they will have to find a Master or Mistress who will fully train them. The club will, of course, help them in all of that once they have declared themselves.
About three months before the meeting, they came to me and asked me to create a special machine for their "coming out" as they called it. They have this habit of talking in a weird almost unison that can drive you nuts in a really short time. It is bad enough that one will start a sentence and the other will finish it, but sometimes they will alternate basically every other word or speak in perfect unison. Or worse, they will suddenly babble at each other in some strange not-really-a-language that only they could speak or understand. They have the strongest twin bonding I have ever seen or experienced. It is like dealing with one person split in two.
Stacy and Lacy are identical twins with perfectly-proportioned faces and equally perfect bodies to match. Some of my friends would say that the twins have small tits, but I disagree. I go by the adage that more than a handful is helpful, but more than a mouthful is wasteful. Their 36C breasts are perky and symmetrical, and their bright pink nipples point just slightly up. Since both girls are exactly 5' 3" that means that when you are looking down at them, their breasts are looking up at you, often through a thin, clingy blouse or sweater... and no bra.
Most people can't tell them apart, but if you can get your gaze to move up a little ways off their chests and actually look at their faces, it's pretty simple. Both girls are heterochromatic. That sounds like some weird sexual perversion, but heterochromia actually means that your eyes are multicolored. It can be in one eye with part of the circle of the iris green and the rest brown or it can be complete heterochromia, sometimes called pure heterochromia, where one eye is one color and the other eye is a totally different color.
Lacy's left eye is a brilliant Irish blue, while her right eye is heather green. Stacy is a mirror image. Her right eye is blue while her left eye is green. You just have to remember that the blue (L)eft eye belongs to (L)acy.
Lacy also has a small, round birthmark in the center of her left buttocks- again remember the L in Left and Lacy. Stacy has the same, identical birthmark, but it is in the center of her right buttocks. I have seen them both in bikinis, or maybe what they wore that day should have been called microkinis- besides which they were topless. In any case, I've seen just about everything there is to see for both Lacy and Stacy and can tell them apart from the front or from the back... providing their eyes are open and their asses are bare.
I once asked Stacy if she had situs inversus, since she was a mirror image of Lacy in every other way. I had to explain that it wasn't an illness, but rather just the term for someone whose heart and other organs were on the opposite side of where they were in most people.
She looked at me a little confused and then said, "Oh! That's why the doctor listens to me here..." pointing to just beneath her right breast, "... and he listens to Lacy here..." pointing to just beneath her left breast."
She smiled at me, pointed down at her crotch, and said, "But the important stuff in the middle is in the right place." Then she cocked her head as if she were thinking and said, "But my larger flap is on the right side while Lacy's is on the left."
