I am one of several slaves my Mistress Marisa keeps in her household. I am completely owned as are the other slaves that serve her. These episodes are written with her permission. It is my, our story...
********************************
"Mary, I'd like you to stay an extra day or two, maybe even for the rest of the week. I have plenty of room. Is that something I can talk you into doing?"
You are sitting on a couch in your living room, my mother across from you. Ilsa is in a chair to your left.
"Can't tell you how much I've had to digest, think about, process in just the past twelve hours, but I can tell you I'm more than intrigued with you, Marisa. And the gala! I have never had so much fun, never felt so naughty and girly, once the initial shock was gone. You know, I'm not a prude, never have been."
She looks at you over the top of her glass, winks. Ilsa catches this. You smile, raise your glass.
Mary savors the sights of the decadent and kinky orgy she not only observed last night but took part in. Swept up in the evening she wound up in your bed, serviced you orally, licked your pussy for over an hour. You did not return the favor by design. You sensed a submissive side to her and exploited it beautifully. You even spanked her lightly. It was a wonderful 'first date'.
You also took her way beyond concern for her son being your number one submissive sissy slave. You comforted her with knowing that it's mutually consensual, his choice. Her son 'Ethan' is now 'Princess', full-time. And will not be dissuaded on any level. Being your 'dirty little boy' 24x7 slave is his life's calling. Both you and he made that abundantly clear to Mary last night.
"I have to ask you something, Mary. And please feel free to tell me to fuck off, all just girls here. I'm going to ask you this with Ilsa present."
You lean forward to the edge of your seat.
"Tell the truth. Your son, owned by me, does that bother you in the slightest? I do own him, could sell him if I chose to do so. I sold him last night, rented him out anyway. We've been at this for years. Does that bother you in the slightest?"
You stare into her eyes.
"This is getting good now." Ilsa chimes in, giggles.
"Not at all, I think that he's where he belongs. He's a big boy, makes his own choices. If he were not a willing participant I'm sure he would have left a long time ago. And it doesn't sadden me in any way. I was so hugely turned on, after I got over the shock of what I was part of, watching it all. When you left, when you walked away from me at the stage, me just standing in front of him, watching for what seemed like hours, seeing him and other gay boys fucked over and over, well I was wet to say the least. I don't think it was the alcohol either. You knew that. I don't think I've been that turned on in long time, Marisa."
She knocks back the last of her drink. You stand, walk to the bar at the side of the room, look to her.
"Another? Ilsa?"
They both nod, you pour out three more drinks.
"Mary, I want to ask you something else. And again, don't hold back, girlfriend. Did you have any fun licking my pussy?"
Silence in the room. She looks to Ilsa then back at you.
"Don't be nervous, Mary, we are all grown women here, friends. Nothing leaves this room. Nothing."
"I did. I had a lesbian affair in college, loved it. I have not played with a girl since. You struck a chord in me last night, Marisa."
She just blurts it out. She looks toward Ilsa again, who just stares back at her.
"It's okay, Mary. It is. You're among friends."
Ilsa says that so softly, comforting, as if she wants to hold her, comfort her like a child.
You look at her.
"I don't usually play with women, at least not sexually. I love women. I think we should rule the fucking world. But don't get the 100% lesbian thing at all. Sexually I like the man thing. A real lot, as in my lover's huge cock. That man fucks like no other."
You laugh when you say that.
Ilsa laughs.
"I'll say she likes men. Fucking little nympho at times, that one."
"But I do like what I had you do for me, what you did last night with your mouth, Mary. You made me cum hard, a lot, girlfriend, gifted little tongue to say the least. I hope you don't find that offensive, crude. I liked the way I made you do that to, toward the end, holding your hair, making you be a good girl. Remember getting your butt slapped real good? I saw how hot that got you. I like submissive girls that know their place."
You giggle, hand her and Ilsa their drinks, walk back to the bar and take yours in hand.
"Marisa, I'm not sure I'm ready to be your slave girl, if that's what you mean."
She laughs, girlish, nervous.
"No, of course not. At least not yet."
You laugh, look toward Ilsa. Quickly before she can respond to your comment you talk to her firmly.