Mean Girls Rule Pt 02

Welcome to my world where all women are lesbians and all lesbians are squirters and absolutely everyone is in to heavy BDSM. This story contains elements of consensual humiliation and a lot of sex. Our heroine continues to be degraded in her own home by her precious mean girl and her lover as a new dynamic emerges. As always, comments are welcome.

*****

Dr. Victoria Reynolds was beginning to get nervous.

The middle-aged slave was currently naked, collared and plugged and kneeling on the carpet next to the coffee table in her own living room. She shifted slightly on her knees, feeling the familiar weight of the thick, metal rings adorning her vagina and nipples. The small gold bells affixed to her nipples tinkled musically whenever she changed position. The heavy brass lock threaded through her six labial rings dangled between her legs.

The slave glanced at the clock on the mantle. She had been waiting for the couple she was hosting for over five minutes now.

What was taking them so long?

The slave was giddy with anticipation. She had just been informed that she would be allowed to masturbate for the amusement of her young mistress and her lover, Thomas. She was looking forward to it immensely. Rebecca, her twenty-seven year old mistress, had not allowed the slave to cum for almost two months.

The slave's pussy was already tingling in anticipation. She could feel her desire dripping down the insides of her thighs. Unconsciously she turned herself slightly toward the corner of the table. The broad mahogany surface of the black table was lacquered and smooth, but this one corner was chipped and pitted, pock-marked like the surface of the moon. A wave of self-loathing washed over the slave as she eyed the stark, physical evidence of her own debasement.

Finally, there was the sound of footsteps, then out of the corner of her eye, the slave saw the man enter the room, carrying a champagne bottle and two glasses. She was careful to keep her gaze on the floor. The man ignored the slave and placed the champagne and glasses on the table and sat down heavily on the couch, blithely placing his wing-tipped clad feet up on the table.

The mother and housewife in the slave wanted to scream at him to get his fucking feet off her nice coffee table, but of course the slave said nothing. She had strict instructions from her mistress: the slave was not permitted to speak to the man during their sessions without her permission.

A moment later, the slave heard the sound of Rebecca's high heels clicking on the hardwood floor behind her. The footfalls softened as the young mistress gained the carpet of the living room.

"Here's your key, darling," said Rebecca cheerily, setting down a large glass bowl filled almost to the brim with amber liquid on to the coffee table.

The slave looked at the glass bowl for several long beats. She knew immediately that it contained urine. She could smell it. She could see the gold key to her lock twinkling at the bottom of the bowl.

Rebecca sat down on the couch and crossed her legs nimbly. She reached out and took Thomas by the hand. The slave looked up at the couple expectantly.

"Do you still want to jingle your rings for us, Dr. Reynolds?" asked the beautiful young resident mildly. "Put on a good show?"

The slave looked over at the bowl, then back at her mistress.

"Yes, Miss Rebecca," she answered softly.

The young mistress beamed down at her.

"Let's play a game, Victoria," said Rebecca smiling down at the slave. "I call it 'choose or lose.' Basically I will give a choice of two tasks to complete. If you successfully complete one of the tasks, you can masturbate for us tonight. If, on the other hand, you decide that the tasks are both too onerous and you decline to complete either one, then you will lose the privilege of getting off tonight and I will add two months of additional enforced abstinence."

The slave remained still, staring at the shiny key at the bottom of the bowl. The lock dangling between her legs felt heavier than ever.

"Do you want to play my little game?" asked Rebecca playfully.

The slave looked up at her young mistress.

"Yes, Miss Rebecca," she said sheepishly.

"Wonderful," said Rebecca, reaching behind her back and producing a long plastic straw. She handed it to the slave.

The slave stared at the straw in her hand, then over at the bowl. Her eyes widened in panic.

"Choice number one is simple: drink the entire contents of the bowl in fifteen minutes or less," said Rebecca evenly.

The slave looked over at the large bowl. She estimated it contained more than two quarts of urine. The slave looked up at Rebecca bleakly.

The young mistress smiled down at the kneeling slave.

"It's a mixed brew, mine and Thomas's," she said casually.

Rebecca stood up and stepped around the kneeling slave and the coffee table, walking to the center of the large living room. She began to pace slowly back and forth. The slave craned her neck and tracked her young mistress with her eyes.

Thomas remained seated. He looked at his watch. He appeared bored.

"Becca, is this really necessary?" he asked impatiently. "Why not just let the old cunt get off, so we can go upstairs and fuck like regular humans?"

"Now, now, Thomas," replied Rebecca silkily. "Where's the fun in that? She hasn't even heard her second choice yet."

Rebecca stopped pacing and sat down on the edge of the coffee table. She patted the kneeling slave on the head.

"You do want to hear what's behind door number two, don't you sweetie?" she asked breezily.

The slave hesitated for a beat, then replied.

"Yes, Miss Rebecca."

"Oh, that's great. I can see you're going to be a good sport, Victoria. Your second task is a bit more complicated. You can start it tonight, but you'll have to complete it tomorrow."

"Yes, Miss Rebecca," said the slave.

"Remember when you introduced me to your next door neighbor, Marta?" asked Rebecca slyly.

The slave was immediately put on guard. Rebecca visited her home frequently, even when friends and family were present, under the pretense of being mentored by the veteran surgeon. After all, the younger doctor was a surgical resident and Victoria was a respected attending vascular surgeon. Why wouldn't Dr. Reynolds take Rebecca under her wing?

As a result, Rebecca frequently attended dinner parties at the older physician's house and was often included in other activities with her circle of friends. On these occasions, the two women treated one another with respectful collegiality. No one would have suspected in a million years, that they were mistress and slave. Every now and then, they would discretely disappear into a powder room for a quick tongue session when the need arose, but for the most part they played it straight.

It was at one of these lawn parties a few months earlier that Rebecca had been introduced to Marta. She was a a curvy cheerful fifty-something neighbor who favored mannish clothing, thick-soled black boots and crewcuts. A successful sculptor who made her fortune decades ago, she carried her legendary sexuality like a badge of honor. Her arms were covered in tattoos, many of them overtly sexual in design.

"I'm the neighborhood bulldyke," she had said to Rebecca casually as they shook hands.

Rebecca matched the firmness of the woman's grip, then admired the large tattoo on her forearm. It portrayed two shapely brunettes lovingly entwined in the sixty-nine position.

"That's an interesting tattoo," said Rebecca, releasing Marta's hand.

Marta looked down at the tattoo and shrugged.

"You know what they say. You are what you eat, sugar" she had replied coyly, then looked over at Victoria. "Been trying to get in Vicky's pants for years now, but she's not having any of it," added the burly woman, smiling conspiratorially. It was obvious that the older woman was drunk.

Victoria had turned crimson at the remark.

"Marta, please!" hissed Victoria, "I work with these people. Take it easy on the wine, won't you?"

"See what I mean?" said Marta, looking at Rebecca appraisingly. "She's no fun at all, a complete square."

Then the large woman had placed her left hand on Rebecca's right elbow.

"What about you, sweetie?" she had slurred. "You seem like a firecracker. Nice young doctor like you, I could teach you a thing or two."

Rebecca had eyed the older woman's hand cooly for a few seconds before reaching up and gently prizing the fingers from the crook of her arm.

"I don't think my boyfriend would appreciate that," she had responded playfully.

"Oh, well. Suit yourself," Marta said dismissively, already perusing the crowd for other potential conquests. "But if you change your mind, you know where I live," she had added indicating the large Tudor house next door.

The slave was snapped back to the here and now when Rebecca reached down and twisted both nipple rings fiercely, setting her bells ringing loudly.

"I asked you a question, cunt," she snapped down at Victoria.

"Yes, Miss Rebecca. Sorry. Yes, I remember, Miss Rebecca," she responded warily.

Rebecca paused for a few seconds, then reached down and cupped the slave's chin with her right hand, tilting her face upward until their eyes met.

"Your second option is to call Marta right now and invite her over for coffee tomorrow morning," said Rebecca archly.

The slave looked up into the younger woman's eyes, a pained expression on her face. She could see where this was going.

"So you can eat her pussy," added Rebecca matter-of-factly.

Rebecca stood and walked over to the couch, taking her customary seat next to Thomas. The man looked on, smiling thinly.

"Tomorrow's Saturday. Thomas is taking me shopping in the city, so I won't be using you at all during the day. Your kids are still at camp, so you'll have the house to yourself. Plenty of time for you and Marta to get properly acquainted," continued Rebecca.

Rebecca crossed her legs gracefully, then looked at her watch.

"You have one minute to decide," she said primly.

The slave looked down at the floor for several seconds, then over at the bowl of cooling urine. She nodded slowly to herself.

"I'll take Marta," she said softly.

"Excellent!" chirped Rebecca, clapping her hands excitedly. "I think that's a great choice. She'll be an excellent addition to our little inner circle. I'm sure we can trust her to be discrete about it. How long have you known her."

"About ten years, Miss Rebecca," croaked the slave.

"I think it's wonderful that such an experienced connoisseur of cunnilingus lives in such close proximity. Who better to help train your tongue for me? You'll let her use you whenever she likes, of course. Her and her friends. You'll get all the practice you can handle. Didn't you tell me, she has an unending stream of lipstick lesbians going in and out of her house?"

The slave looked at the floor morosely. How much further could she fall?

"Yes, Miss Rebecca," she replied, her voice barely a whisper. "She does appear to have a way with the ladies."

Rebecca reached over to the end table and retrieved the Dr. Reynolds iPhone. She handed it to the kneeling woman.

"Call her and set it up. Be explicit about it. I want her to know why she is coming over," said Rebecca brusquely. "And keep it on speaker, please."

The slave looked down at the phone for several seconds formulating a plan. Finally, she shrugged and dialed. The call was answered on the third ring.

"Hello, Vicky," purred Marta's distinct voice. "What can I do for you, darling? Unusual for you to call at this hour." Her words were slightly slurred as if she had been drinking.

"Hi, Marta," said the slave. "How are you doing tonight?"

"Oh I'm fine," replied Marta huskily. "Had a hot date tonight, an art student from the university. These young girls today are so forward, but I'm afraid I wore her out. She's asleep upstairs."

"That's great, Marta. Listen, I know this is going to sound crazy, but I've been thinking about you a lot lately," said the slave. She paused and looked up at Rebecca and the man before continuing.

"In fact, I can't get you out of my head. I know it's insane, but I'm just going to say it. I keep picturing myself naked on my knees and you telling me what to do..."

"Oh dear," interrupted Marta seductively. "Are you asking if you can eat my pussy, Vicky?"

The slave paused.

"Yes, Marta. I guess I am. I...want to see what it's like," she added lamely.

"I knew it!" cackled the large woman over the phone. "I knew you couldn't be as prim and proper as you appear. Fancy a little quim, do you? Well, you wouldn't be the first straight girl I've turned," said Marta coyly. "Sure Vicky. I'd be delighted to let you eat my pussy. All you have to do is ask, darling."

"Great. Can you come over tomorrow for coffee at about ten-thirty, so we can talk about it?"

"Sure. I'll come over, but you won't be doing a lot of talking with that cute little mouth of yours."

"Yes, I guess you're right, Marta. Not much else to say is there?"

"What about your husband, Vicky? He's not in on this is he?" asked Marta slyly.

"Oh, no, Marta. He won't be around tomorrow. He's spending the weekend with his..friend."

The slave bit back her tongue. She had almost told Marta the truth, that her husband was with his young girlfriend this weekend. He spent most weekends with her when the kids were away.

"How wonderful. It will be just us girls, then. Okay, it's a date, Vicky. I'll see you tomorrow," said Marta and broke the connection.

Victoria placed her phone down in the coffee table, then looked up at her young mistress.

"Did I do okay, Miss Rebecca?" she asked earnestly. "Can I jingle my rings now? You promised, Miss Rebecca," she added querulously.

"Of course you can, Victoria, but you're forgetting your manners. Is it not customary for a one to relieve one's guests before thinking of one's own pleasure?" asked the young mistress reasonably.

The slave's eyes widened at her faux pas.

"Of course, Miss Rebecca. Please. I apologize for my insult. I meant no disrespect."

"Not to worry, Victoria. You have a lot on your mind," said Rebecca, patting the slave's head. "I'll tell you what. Why don't you go dump the bowl in the toilet and get your key. Be sure to rinse it off for me. Then you can come back and service me while Master Thomas uses your ass. How does that sound?"

"That sounds wonderful, Miss Rebecca!" replied the slave eagerly, already rising to her feet.

The slave reached down and picked up the bowl with both hands, then walked slowly out of the living room, being careful not to spill a drop. A moment later came the sound of a toilet flushing, followed by water running from the faucet.

The man looked over at Rebecca.

"I still can't believe the old cunt gets off on being treated like this," he said conversationally. "What does she get out of it? You hardly ever let her cum. All we do is use and abuse her. I just don't get it."

"It's the humiliation," said Rebecca matter-of-factly. "She craves it. The more over the top, the better. When you're around, the intensity is amplified ten-fold. It's why she's always asking me to bring you to our little sessions. I hope you don't mind being dragged into our little dynamic. You are still happy with our arrangement, aren't you?"

"I like it fine," said the man softly. He reached over and out his arm around Rebecca. "I think she's pathetic, but I don't mind playing with her as long as I get to fuck your sweet pussy at the end of the night."

"Oh, I'm counting in it, lover," she said breathlessly. "She's just warming me up for you."

Dr. Reynolds chose that moment to scamper back into the living room. She immediately knelt down in front of the couple, placing her key on the table.

"How may this cunt please you?" she asked softly, looking down at the floor.

The man and woman look down at the kneeling slave, then at each other.

"Undress Master Thomas, please," ordered the young mistress.

Dr. Victoria Reynolds crawled over to Thomas and untied his shoes before gently removing them and placing them on the floor. Next, she removed the man's sox, kissing each foot reverently. The man stood. The slave carefully unbuckled his belt and peeled down his expensive suit pants, then stood and folded them neatly, placing them on the back of a nearby chair. She returned to her knees and tugged off the man's boxer shorts, allowing his erection to spring free. The slave kissed the head of the cock once.

The slave stood again, then reached up and loosened, then removed the man's silk tie. Finally, she expertly unbuttoned his tailored shirt, pulling it smoothly off his shoulders and draping it nearly on the chair with the pants.

All this time, the man regarded the slave with cool detachment. This was a familiar ritual. Victoria always undressed Thomas during their sessions with Miss Rebecca. When he was nude, the man sat down on the couch and spread his legs.

"Get him hard with your mouth, so he can fuck your ass," said Rebecca curtly.

The slave immediately dropped to her knees and crossed her wrists behind her back. She was never permitted to use her hands when servicing Master Thomas. She was not worthy of touching him. She leaned forward and licked the underside of the bulbous head of his large cock, swirling her tongue under the sensitive tissue the way he liked, then she looked up in to the man's eyes expectantly.

The man paused for a second, then nodded.

The slave leaned forward and deep-throated the entire length of the man's stiffening eight inch cock in one gulp. She paused with her nose pressing against the man's coarse pubic hair, breathing easily through her nose, then began to swallow briskly, systematically contracting the muscles of her throat around the entire length of the man's thick shaft.

Dr. Reynolds no longer had a gag reflex.

The slave had been well-trained at sucking cock over the past few months. Under the careful supervision of Rebecca, the she had serviced janitors, store clerks, waiters, students and even an octogenarian. When Rebecca told her to suck cock, Victoria dropped to her knees and opened her mouth, no questions asked.

On several occasions, the doctor had gotten a text in the middle of the day that said simply "suck a random cock today." Sometimes, the command would be more specific, such as "suck a cock half your age," or "suck a cock twice your age." The slave found that the truck stop on the edge of down was the best place to go when random cocks were required.

The slave had no moral qualms about these extramarital oral dalliances. Victoria was now owned by Miss Rebecca, her special mean girl. She was no longer encumbered by the conventional bonds of matrimony. The slave did as she was told. If her mistress wanted to turn the prim and proper middle-aged physician into the town cock-whore, then that is exactly what she would happily become.

Rebecca was always discrete when she rented out her slave's mouth. She shied away from giving her to anyone associated with the hospital, except when it amused her to have the slave service a person she already knew from work. These more intimate assignations always took place at Rebecca's apartment with the slave hooded.

Ironically, it was the slave's husband who benefitted most from his wife's newfound cock-sucking skills during his twice-daily prescribed blow jobs. But if he noticed any improvement in her oral-lingual mechanics, he kept it to himself. He just grunted as he came down her throat every morning and evening, then pushed her away.

He husband never asked where she had been when Victoria was suddenly sent out on her frequent jaunts, even after her mistress had ordered the slave to go home to him with two thick loads of semen still clearly visible drying on her face. He had just shaken his head in disgust, then went back to reading the paper. He didn't care. He had his girlfriend now. She was free to do as she liked.