. 2

Master arrived home precisely at 6pm. My sister, Angela and I were waiting for him on cushions, on our knees, not far from the door.

She, with her beautiful Mexican features and warm brown skin was kneeling next to me. By our Masters orders we had spent hours getting ourselves dolled up for him to take us out to dinner. We gave it our best effort in our desire to please him greatly. She wore a tight white dress that didn't quite reach down to mid thigh. It hugged her curves and the low cut revealed cleavage, that left no need to imagine what beauty her dress hid from the world. Under it she wore white, sheer, lace stockings and a sexy white bra that perfectly exhibited and accentuated her large breasts. All she wore beyond that was a beautiful, sexy white pearl choker which I learned had been given as a gift by Master as a symbol of his dominance.

Neither of us wore panties that night, a fact that I was partially regretting. Looking at her beautiful body and knowing that Master had plans for us tonight was already contributing heavily to my arousal.

For my part I had on a similar dress of jet black. It was not as low cut, but was still quite revealing. It was however even shorter than hers and I knew I would spend a good part of the evening pulling it down over the top of my sheer, black stockings.

We both wore stiletto pumps. We both wore our long black hair up at the back, and we both had left little wisps of hair trailing down on opposite sides of our heads, just in front of our ears, purely for effect of course. Her black eyes and dark skin, and my white skin with blue eyes had been a brilliant tribute to our differences, while our black hair and similar hairstyles spoke to the world of our similarities. Our bond to Master was the bridge which brought our two worlds together.

We remained silent as Master stood over us. I could only see his dress shoes and the bottoms of his black slacks, but these told me enough to know he too was dressed for the occasion. Heels add challenges to kneeling, but we dealt with it, kneeling in our best poses of submission. Being without panties, kneeling with our thighs spread wide and short dresses hiked up over our hips left our nether girl parts very exposed. I was mildly aroused already and I knew that my pink lips must be pouting, exposed and very visible to Master.

My owner stood quietly for a long while. I assumed he was appraising us until finally he knelt on one knee on front of me. His hand came into view as it moved toward my mound, one finger slipping almost into my pussy hole and sliding up along the slit. I shuddered uncontrollably.

He brought his finger to his lips and I heard him tasting it. Before he moved to Angela and did the same, I could see his hand brush along her thigh up to her crotch. I heard her take a deep breath as Masters finger slid along her slit.. I almost looked up but I held my pose and waited.

Master stood. His words were sharp and clear. "Stand up girls."

We responded in unison, leaning forward and pushing ourselves to our feet. We were tall in our pumps, and while my sister was a little shorter than me, it wasn't enough to make the difference, with me at 5'10" and she at just under 5'9". We were like the perfect pair of opposite twins.

Master stood quietly looking us over from head to toe. "You two look stunning. How I ever got so lucky to have two girls as beautiful as you, I will never know."

"Master," I replied, "It's not luck. It's because you are such an amazing man."

"Girl, do you agree?" He asked.

"Yes Master, I agree." Sister answered.

"Regardless, I could not be more proud than to have you two on my arm."

I was flattered, but at the same time I understood how he felt. Master is and was a beautiful example of masculinity. He wore a single breasted dark grey jacket with a darker than blood red, crew cut shirt underneath. His muscular physique stood out for those with a discerning eye. His strong jawline, brown goatee and stern facial structure framed dark, piercing brown eyes. His smile, often hidden, still showed in his eyes.

Sister was the perfect picture of beauty. Together we looked like Hollywood starlets out to take over the night on the arms of modern day royalty. As arrogant as it sounded in my thoughts, I chose to hang on to the idea.

Master took my collar in his fingers. "We will be out in the world for part of the night. Your onyx choker will have to do.

"Yes Master." I said and turned to run and get the choker from my jewelry box. Taking my collar off is never easy for me, but this night I was already prepared for the possibility. I resolved to accept the reality and move on. I took the hard, golden metallic collar off and set it on top of my jewelry box, ignoring the insecurities which always bother me when it is removed. I replaced it with a black onyx choker which went tight on my neck. It had round beads all the way around, with small, silver rings separating each bead.

I looked in the nearby mirror and I had to admit, it looked perfect and although the onyx beads were larger than my sisters pearls, it would be an excellent compliment to the look we had in our little trio.

I came back out and sister smiled. She knew it was perfect too. Master nodded and opened the door.

My sister and I had no idea where we were going or what the plan was, but we were excited. It turned out that Master had reservations at a fantastic restaurant with a blues band playing on a small stage. We had a semi private room at the back of the restaurant. As we entered, eyes turned our way. Sister and I draped ourselves over each of his arms and pretended not to notice. We were seated each on one side of Master, with me at his right hand. We ordered wine and dinner. We ate, listening to the music while having idle conversation.

As the evening wore on, I felt Masters hand on my thigh under the table. I glanced at him enough to see his casual smile, but my gaze landed on sister. Her eyes were closed. her lips were parted and Masters hand was under the table between her legs. He looked at me and ordered. "Spread your legs."

I complied immediately and his hand slid up my thigh, cupping my smooth, hairless mound. His fingers worked between the folds of flesh and his finger entered me. I raised my hips despite my fear of being caught, showing him how much I was willing to comply. His fingers began to fuck me without mercy. I looked over at my sister and she had slid down on her seat. She had a slight glistening layer of sweat on her cleavage.

Masters fingers began to rub softly over my clit in between thrusts of his fingers as deep as the angle would let him penetrate me. It was completely overwhelming. I feared that all someone needed to do was look under the table from across the room and they would see our spread legs with Masters hands buried inside us.

My pussy was sending me a message I didn't want. I was going to cum. I reached for my dress to pull it higher, afraid my juices would get all over it, but I heard Masters voice in my ear. "No. Put your hands on the table."

I obeyed reluctantly. I heard sisters voice soft, almost whispering to my left. "Master, master..." She took a deep breath. "Please... please, Master." Her hands were gripping the edge of the table. The look on her face was beautiful. She was enjoying what he was doing but fears and nerves were also evident. The mixture was contagious and I felt the same feelings wrapping around me.

She closed her mouth and made muffled whimpering, moaning sounds. I could tell she was close to cumming. Master spoke softly into her ear. "You do not have permission to cum, girl."

Her moaning after that reflected her frustration. I knew that I would be in for the same treatment as I saw him remove his hand from her crotch and his focus turned to me. Sister let out a deep breath as if she had been holding it, then resumed breathing hard.

Masters fingers plunged into me harder and he flicked his fingers over my clit in fast, vibrating motions. I felt my insides giving in.

"Master," I begged, "will you let your slave cum?" The conviction in my plea was weak and he knew it.

I looked at him. "You know better." he smiled at me with the same casual smile that had been on his face all evening. I gave him a frustrated groan in response.

I knew I was going to fail if he continued. I was becoming desperate. He knew me too well, he must have been aware, but he didn't stop. I felt my orgasm approaching.

"Master, please, your slave can't..." It hit me then. I bit my lower lip to keep from calling out as I felt a flood of my cum soak his fingers. They were wet and sloppy, still fucking me and flicking at my clit. I cried out but thankfully the music was loud enough to cover the sound. I slumped over onto his shoulder, gripping his arm for support as embarrassment sank in. I had no idea if anybody saw me, and for the moment I didn't care. I had failed to obey, and I knew I had been set up. The only consolation was that I suspected that he set me up for a reason, and I expected that tonight I would enjoy a painful punishment. The mere thought took me to a comfortable place as I gripped his arm, thankful for a place to rest my head.

He was moving. I brought my head up and saw him working on my sister again. She was gripping the table again. She must have known that she was in trouble when she glanced over at me desperately.

She held her mouth closed but her sound was audible, "Mmmm, mmmm, mmmm..." She looked at him with eyes half closed with passion. "Please Master, I can't hold it."

I knew he was smiling that wicked smile at her as his hand kept going. "I know girl. I'm already looking forward to your punishment."

"Oh fuck," she moaned. "I'm going to cum Master." Her face was red. I could see the embarrassment in her expression. She closed her eyes and turned her head away from the room as her body reacted at least partly against her will. She put her hand over her mouth as she started to writhe against his hand. I couldn't turn my eyes away and I didn't want to look at the room either. I was afraid every eye would be on us.

Her orgasm was delicious to watch despite the mixed feelings in me. As she came down she placed one hand on Masters thigh and another on the seat beside her, lifting her hips off of the seat. I knew her wetness must have been extreme, but Master put a hand on her thigh, shoving down. When she resisted he said, "Sit."

Her face reddened even more as she sat down. We were a mess and the night was young. I could smell our sex. I could feel cool air on my wet pussy. The room acted as if we didn't exist, and in their world I'm sure we were totally irrelevant but in my head they were all staring at me.

Master, ever the comedian, called the waitress over for more wine. I watched her intently, hoping she wouldn't notice our overheated, driven look or the heavy scent of our sex. Every hint of expression on her face registered as awareness in my mind. I looked at Master. He looked back as if probing my thoughts. He said, without hesitation, "You may never be here again, and she may never forget you, but you belong to me and what she thinks doesn't matter at all. You're either my fuck toy or you're not."

He looked at my sister, then back at me. "What are you?"

My mind flooded with the reminder that while I choose to be a slave, what he said was true. It instantly became a choice in my thoughts but I knew what I wanted. I loved this man and the role I chose to live. "Master, this slave is your fucktoy."

He looked at sister. "And you girl? What do you choose to be tonight?"

She was still flushed but her reply had no hesitation. "I am so your fuckin' toy." She got a sheepish look on her face and repeated herself more carefully. "This girl is your fucktoy too, Master."

He nodded. "Good, because we're just getting started. Tonight you're going to entertain a few of our associates and fucktoy will be the theme."

The wine arrived and he took a sip. "Enjoy this last glass of wine girls. You're going to need your wits about you if you're going to be good fucktoys." The waitress hesitated as she was walking away, stopping dead in her tracks for just a moment. If she had any suspicions at all, they were confirmed. Either that or she had just developed a few new semi-confirmed suspicions. I looked at my sister. She caught it too.

I wondered if sister had any idea what it might be like to entertain Masters associates, then I wondered if I really had any idea. I concluded that I'd best be prepared for anything.

My last glass of wine didn't last long. Sister put hers away awfully quickly too. Any added lack of inhibitions could only help us tonight, and we already knew this was our last taste. Master stopped himself after the next glass too. This was my first sign that things might get very intense.

We sat quietly, finishing our meal and generally feeling a little intimidated. Master looked as comfortable as ever. Momentarily I felt his hand on my thigh again, and suddenly he swept his finger over my slit. He brought his finger up and placed it on sisters lips. "Taste my slave."

She parted her lips and sucked his fingers into her mouth. Arousal crept over us both again. He did the same to sisters sweet slit, bringing his finger to my lips. I turned up the heat by sucking his finger into my mouth like it was his cock. I played with it, enjoying her flavor, swirling my tongue around it and making slurping sounds. That's when I noticed the waitress was standing by me, delivering the check. I stopped instantly as I noticed her. I glanced up. Her face was bright red.

Master spoke up, "Thank you my dear. Never mind us, we're just gearing up for a night of steamy sex."

I was mortified, but the waitress was more so. She didn't even answer, but she looked Master in the eye and I got the sense that she was not entirely offended or embarrassed. Something in her was intrigued.

Master paid the bill and as we left heads turned our direction again. I struggled to look composed as we left, but I was also acutely aware that my wet crotch might not be hidden. I adjusted my skirt as low as it would go. Men were stripping us naked with their eyes.

I looked at Master. He looked pleased, and that brought my security back. I relaxed and even managed to play the tease a bit, letting my hips sway a little more as we left the establishment. If Master was pleased, and I was his fucktoy, then I ought to feel fulfilled. Despite my nerves, part of me felt very fulfilled.

I have no idea what went through my sisters mind as we left. As we got into the car, I looked at her butt. I saw no sign of her wetness and hoped that my dress was hiding the truth as well. But then, we were gone. Those people were in our past, and our future was uncertain. If tonight were true to my past, sister would be tested and we both would feel the loving, strong discipline of our Master. Set up or not, it was his pleasure.

We drove in silence, out into the country. I knew this road. We were on the road to the home of Mistress Victoria, a professional dominant lady. Many men pay her well for her services, but she has one full time slave. He is a strong man about Masters age, meaning he is in his mid-thirties. He is one of the most submissive people I have ever met. He also has a massive cock.

Mistress Victoria is a beautiful older woman, five to ten years older than Master, although I don't know her true age. She has thick, long blond hair, a beautiful figure, and I had never seen her wear anything other than black leather. She is the image of a dominatrix as the world sees them. She is wholly heterosexual, but I know from experience that she likes to toy with submissive girls. The most significant thing about Mistress Victoria is what she proudly calls her dungeon. It is the stereotypical image of a stone basement with a variety of bdsm equipment. It is a place I fear, as I also fear Mistress Victoria. Not that I fear for my safety or that I will be unsafe around her. I fear her mind. She has a wicked sense of humor and the ways she comes up with to punish her submissives is truly intimidating.

We arrived at her home. Master, sister and I approached the door. Under orders we knelt at her door. Her slave Michael received us. His Mistress named him Shit. We rose and entered behind Master. This place was a place of formality. Slaves had rules, some of which did not apply to us because we belonged to Master. Shit did not speak unless spoken to, and for the most part I did not either when I was here.

To my surprise, we weren't taken downstairs, but Shit led us through the house to a room I had never seen. Sister was in awe of the beautiful home, but I could sense her nervousness. I'm sure that my own nerves were not helping her.

The room we entered had a large, four poster bed in the center of it. Around the walls were several large comfortable looking chairs, love seats and sofas. The ceiling was entirely mirrored. It became clear that this room was designed for exhibition. At the foot of the bed was a large chest. I could only imagine what might be hidden in there.

Master spoke to Shit, who left the room. He then ordered us to remove all of our clothes and let our hair down. We both complied. Undressing in front of an audience was something I had grown used to, but I wasn't so sure about sister. Once our outfits were on the floor, we both let out our hair. Our long black tresses fall down over our backs and shoulders. He then motioned for us to get on the bed. Sisters nerves were very evident. I was starting to accept that this was going to be a long, intense night. Master spoke, "Kneel. Do not speak. Be still."

We obeyed. I wanted to encourage sister. I wanted to comfort her but I knew every opportunity for that was gone.

Master left, meaning that we could both look over the room. There were no windows. The seats on all sides could hold a lot of people. The room was ornate, with pictures on the walls of people in a variety of sexual embraces. They were beautiful and while they were erotic, they weren't particular to our lifestyle. The mirrored ceiling assured that no place on this bed would be unexposed. It was like we were on a pedestal on display.

When Master returned he was not alone. Mistress Victoria was with him, dressed in a black leather corset and knee high platform boots. Her breasts spilled out of her corset as if they were about to burst free. If I didn't have so much respect for her, I would have thought it looked cheesy. Her long blond hair was braided with thin, black ribbons entwined in the braid. Shit came in behind them, lugging a large bag I recognized as belonging to Master.

Mistress Victoria looked us over, walking around all sides of the bed, appraising us. The look on her face made me think she was deciding which piece of steak she wanted for dinner. She walked up in front of sister. "This must be your new toy. Very nice Jon. I don't know how you found yet another girl that is so gorgeous and innocent looking."

Sister held her face still, watching the Mistress with her eyes. Master stepped alongside her. "My slave brought this girl to me. I didn't want another girl, but how could I resist this one?" He asked rhetorically.

The Mistress stepped closer to me and grabbed my chin, turning my head to look into her eyes. "You... If ever I would take a girl slave, this would be the one I would want."

I gulped involuntarily. Master had allowed her to play with me a few times, and I had no desire to be owned by her.

She spoke again, still gripping my chin hard. "Look Jon, she doesn't like that idea." She dropped my face. "Well, If she ever needs punishment, you know where to send her. I like the look of fear in her eyes."

Master chuckled. "This one is well trained. The other needs more, but she's coming along nicely, although tonight they both need a little discipline."