Teasing The Backdoor

Every few weeks I get together with a small group of ladies that my BFFs call my "kinky friends." There are six of us. Me, My mom Diane, Andrea, Janelle, Olive, and Colette. All six of us are dominants. All six of us like to play around, keeping our toy boxes well stocked with "toys" for our amusement. We always swap stories of whatever we've done lately and with whom. Sometimes we offer a "toy" we've run across to another, at least when whoever runs across the toy isn't interested in keeping it herself. I've gotten a few referrals from these ladies. Usually, toys they felt would be better subjugated by a younger lady.

This afternoon we've picked a little coffee shop in Foley to meet at. And like most times I bring Sophie along. With only counter service here, my live-in slave girl Sophie comes in handy as a waitress for us. And she loves being so useful.

I tell them the story of a 32-year-old man I played with last week. How I had him tied completely immobile while I tickled inside his butt with a feather. He suffered a full half-hour of it. It took him maybe five minutes to cum from it, even though nothing but the air was touching his cock. He came five times. The last time he didn't even have any cream left to spurt. But he did squirm powerfully against the ropes holding him. He moaned and groaned loudly, eventually crying from it as well. Afterward, he emailed me telling me how utterly ashamed of himself he was during, that I could make him climax without touching his cock. He begged me never to make him do that again. I posted a video of it, his face cropped out, and told him to stop whining. He'll suffer whatever I feel like watching him suffer. But since he wanted to whine about it, now his humiliation can be public. Even though it's impossible for someone who knows him well to recognize him, I know he's certain that every single person he knows has not only seen that video but recognized him.

I can tell I have their interest. So I have Sophie take a seat. Like a good slave, she sits up with her legs crossed and her hands folded. I have her tell them about the following Friday night. She doesn't blush or hesitate to describe it. I did the same thing to her. Except she suffered an entire hour of it. She tells them that she lost track of her orgasms. And kind of lost track of everything. She describes lying there, feeling a billion billion icy little tingly sparks constantly dancing around inside her bottom. A zillion times as many shooting powerfully through her pussy. How her entire body felt cold, even though she was drenched in sweat when it was over. How she couldn't feel anything but those "unbearable tingles!" that drove her beyond crazy. Didn't even know what I was doing to her. But when it ended and I let her go, her entire body felt like her pussy just after she'd came. Utter bliss. Her legs didn't even work for fifteen minutes or so, which she had to spend lying on the floor. At my insistence, she describes what she felt in vivid detail.

When Janelle doubts her, I swear to her that I never touched Sophie's pussy. Just the inside of her bottom. Janelle asks Sophie if she's looking forward to my using her like that again. Sophie says that she is, but she's looking forward to my using her period! She says that she has mixed feelings about it. It's far too much work for me to do for her. And it's just too good for her stand. But it's just too good, too. She tells Janelle that her biggest fear is that if I do it to her again, she won't be able to bear it and "completely lose it and go monkey wild bananas!" Then again, she says, if I want her to bear it, I'll make her. And if I want her monkey wild bananas, I'll make her do that, too.

At the end of our little gab-fest, Janelle asks me directly if I would mind "proving how crazy it drives a woman." Proving it by driving her that crazy.

I ponder the idea for a minute. While I have no interest in her, the idea of doing it doesn't bother me. I've tickled a few butts before. And I'm pretty sure Janelle doesn't know what she's getting herself into; she's going to unwillingly amuse me with her ferocious squirming. The fact that she's a domme doesn't bother me either. Nor does the certainty that she'll never be a toy, much less my toy. The only concern I can think up is that she's as assertive and dominant as I am. And I won't fight her for the power. "You know if you come to Miss Rodgers' neighborhood for that, you're getting the full treatment. Exactly as any other toy would toy get. And I will make you behave."

"Yeah." Janelle laughs, "I kinda figured you'd insist on that." She grins wide. "I would. There's only one Queen in the Empire of Janelle."

"And only one Empress in the Queendom of Pepper!" I add with my own grin. "And she's a very bitchy queen!"

"I'll behave."

"No, you won't," I smirk back. "You'll belong to me from the first knock on my door until it slams shut on your butt after. And be warned, Bitchy Goddess Pepper will make you behave like a good humble little peasant girl in her realm. Or your stay in Her dungeon will be far longer and more unpleasant than you're anticipating."

This time she makes a slightly nervous little laugh. "Deal."

"With the understanding that immediately after you leave I'm sending the video to Mom, Olive, Andrea, and Colette. Not you. You don't get it until one of them takes pity on you and sends it to you."

"Fine. Agreed." She turns immediately to Olive, her closest friend in the group. "You'll send it to me, right?"

"Nope!" Olive laughs heartily. "At least not until we've all burned ourselves out on it!"

"Bitch!" Janelle teases, "and here I thought we were friends!"

"We are! But this amusement!"

"2:00 Saturday," I say firmly. "Don't be late. You stay until I'm done with you. Thirty minutes of torture. Unless you're a bad serf." I don't wait for her to answer. I leave, taking Sophie with me. I have no doubt Janelle will show up. She's far too eager to experience it. I just don't know why. Usually, she's like me, the kind of girl who would much rather inflict that suffering on another and get my jollies watching the show.

She appears exactly at 2:00 Saturday. I have Sophie answer the door. As Sophie allows Janelle in, I'm lazing on the sofa with my crop across my lap. "Slave, strip that bitch." I sigh out.

"Yes, my wonderful and beautiful Mistress!" Sophie answers, taking the chance to squeeze a few compliments into the allowed response. She likes to do that, at least when she thinks I'll let her get away with it.

I watch, sipping my coffee, while Sophie almost pushes Janelle back to stand up against the empty place on the wall. "Undress, bitch," Sophie says firmly. "Give me everything you have." She holds her hand out and impatiently taps her foot. Just as I've told her I wanted her to. She's the picture of impatience.

Janelle had to know this was coming. None of us would allow a toy to have clothes for a play session. She knows the commands as well. All of us use the same commands with our subs. That way, on the occasions, when we do favors for each other, the subs know what to do when they're told to do something. She undresses correctly, handing her clothes to Sophie. Once Janelle is standing there naked, hands behind her, Sophie goes to lock Janelle's clothes in the file cabinet.

She returns and hands me a few things. I walk over to Janelle and order her to turn her back to me. Then I strap her hands together at the small of her back with a tie strap. I give her a light tap on her bare bottom, feeling those firm globes. "This bottom is going to have a very rough afternoon." I turn her to face me. Then I lock a pastel pink collar around her neck and clip a leash to it.

"Come, bitch." I snap as I start leading her back to the playroom. "Welcome to Miss Rodgers' Queendom's royal dungeon, bitch," I say with a tease to my voice. "Queen Mistress hereby condemns you to thirty minutes of bottom tickling. Plus five more minutes because she didn't like those ugly panties you dared to wear to into her realm!" I keep her walking over to the massage table. I've put a little step beside it so she can get up on it without being able to use her hands. I order her up and she gets up. Then she lies on her left side when I tell her to, pulling her knees up so she's positioned just like she were sitting, except lying.

While she lies there, I tie a blindfold around her eyes. Then I get out an enema kit now that she can't see what I'm doing. I figure she's expecting me to lift her toned, rounded butt cheek. After all, I have to get to her bottom to tickle it. She doesn't flinch as I do. But instead of tickling her bottom, which I never fully described how I did it, I touch the tip of the enema nozzle to her asshole. "You'll be cleaned out first. We don't tickle filthy bottoms here." The nozzle starts slipping into her asshole. "You will be on your best behavior, bitch. Lie still. Be quiet. Enjoy your nice big warm enema!" I release the clamp and let the fluid, a mixture of water, disinfectant, and laxative, flow into her. Usually, I give about half the bag. One bag is one liter, which is about the most a bottom can handle without real pain or an accident. Half will ensure the maximum effect. More than half just makes it more uncomfortable. And half is more than uncomfortable enough for most.

I don't know if Janelle anticipated this or not. I doubt it. But she's a smart girl, so maybe. Long before she has ¼ of the bag I can see that she's getting uncomfortable lying there. Maybe a little more so that most subs would be. Then again, she's not used to being on the receiving end. A little past ¼ bag she moans. I crack her taut cheek with my crop searing a bright wet on its center. "I said quiet, bitch!" I scold her. "Add five minutes. That's 40 minutes of hard butt tickling." She lasts another minute or so before I see her head move. Not much, but enough that I can see it. I crack her bottom again, searing a matching welt on her other cheek. "I said still, bitch. I saw that head move. Now you're up to 45 minutes."

I make her go just a little past ½. I can see that she's really uncomfortable lying there. She's managing to stay still and quiet, though she's breathing hard. And sweating. I stop the flow when I see the tiny ripple of a weak cramp wash across her stomach. I leave her to lie there for five minutes, not saying anything to her, not even letting her know I'm there. But watching closely, crop ready in case she tries to move. Then I slide the nozzle out, take her blindfold off, and tell Sophie to take her to the potty.

Sophie takes her and makes her sit up with her legs splayed wide while she uses it. It's how I do any sub. It's how Janelle would do her subs. Does her subs. Make them do this on full display. And Sophie is extremely attentive to watching my subs. I wait about fifteen minutes before I poke my head in the bathroom, make a comment about how bad it smells, and tell Sophie that once "that skanky bitch" is cleaned out, to clean her up and bring her back to the dungeon to begin the torture she's been sentenced to.

It's several minutes before Sophie leads Janelle in by the leash. Janelle looks decidedly unhappy about her visit here so far. Can't blame her. If I were leashed, I'd choke the bitch with her leash. I'll bet Janelle wants to choke me, too.

I take the leash for Sophie. Without any explanation to her, I lead her over to a large wooden frame I had a couple of frat boys build for me. I paid them with Shelbie, a rather cute 35-year-old redhead in my toy box whom they thoroughly enjoyed as payment. Despite feeling like a total slut, I know Shelbie enjoyed it just as much.

First Janelle's ankles are spread wide apart and held to the brace with thick and wide leather cuffs. Using the leash I pull her forward, leaning her over a crossbar at her hips until she's bent almost all the way over. A clip on the floor, which is really just a piece of laminate-covered plywood that serves as a base for this frame, snaps onto the end of her leash. Now the leash holds her from standing up. I cut the strap on her wrists, move them up over her head where another cross brace has a thick steel tube sticking down, two more sturdy straps waiting for her wrists. I strap them, which leaves them hanging in the air with nothing to grab hold of. I have two more straps, one around the top of each thigh. About half as wide, those straps both pull her thighs outward and pin them to the crossbar. I set another cross piece, this one a 2" diameter steel pipe, across under her shoulders, pinning it in place with a couple of steel dowels. I don't tie her to it. It's only there to keep her from leaning forward.

I move in behind her and sit on the floor directly behind her bottom. Sophie stands behind me and when I tell her to, she pulls Janelle's cheeks as wide apart as she can stretch them. It bares her medium pink-purple asshole, now stretched taut enough to smooth out most of the wrinkles around her small hole. I can tell immediately that this butt hasn't had much if any, inbound traffic.

I pull on a latex glove and get a good dollop of lubricating jelly on the tip of my finger. I touch the tip of my finger to the stretched skin of her tight little hole. She clenches tight for a second, then starts to relax herself. I slowly work my finger around her hole, inching a hair deeper into her ring with every lap around as I spread a thick coat of the lubricant over her muscle. Janelle stands still while I do, but she starts breathing a little deeper.

Once I have her asshole as heavily greased as it can get, I get out the anal dilator I found online just for this. It's not fat. It's downright obese. It's 4 centimeters across, which is slightly larger than a decently thick cock would be. Definitely larger than an average cock. Not large enough to tear the skin on even the tiniest of assholes, but close. The tube is short, only 5 centimeters long. A second tube sits inside it, that one with a bullet-shaped tip, as wide as the outer tube, that sticks out beyond the outer tube. I lubricate the tip.

I touch the tip of that bullet to Janelle's asshole. I watch as she reflexively cinches tight, but quickly relaxes herself. It's deceptive, at least to Janelle. She can only feel the tip of it, which is no wider than a finger and hasn't a clue that it's about to stretch her muscle more like three fingers wide. I push firmly, but not too hard and the tip starts to ease into her butt. It gets her stretched about halfway before I hear her gasping out as she feels herself being really stretched. She squeals "You'll rip me!" about three-quarters of the way. I stop there just long enough to crack her bottom firmly with my hand and scold her to shut up. And add another five minutes to her torture. No talking. I resume pushing it into her. It makes it all the way in without tearing her, but it does stretch her almost to her limit.

The tube is clear hard plastic. It has a little tab that sticks up over her tail bone, which I tape to her skin to hold the tube in. then I slide the inner tube, and the tip, out of the tube. It leaves me a view of her dark ring squeezing tight around the clear tube, and her blood-red rectum beyond the end of that short tube. There's a second tube, also just a hair smaller than the one holding her muscle gaping wide, but about 7" long. This one is made like two little rings, one at each end, connected with four stiff clear plastic slats. I slip that one through the tube. At first, Janelle can't feel it at all. But once it clears the outer tube, she gasps hard as she feels the first ring sliding deeply into her and stretching her bowels out fully. It has a little clip to snap it to the outer tube and hold it there. By the time it's snapped into place her rectum is stretched taut all the way to it's very back. And held like that.

Looking in the tube I can see her rectum. It looks like a blood-red membrane as thin as a sausage casing. I can even make out some of her inner parts, like her bladder and womb, or rather the shapes of them, through its thin film. And I can make out the backside of her thick, spongy pussy walls just beyond her straining asshole. And I can see the thick veins that line it. I'll bet now Janelle knows why I washed her butt out.

Sophie sets out three little cups of oil for me. One atop a bed of ice, one at room temperature, and one atop a little candle-powered warmer. Those are atop a tray with a wide assortment of feathers that only have one thing in common: they're all at least 8" long. I pick one. It's neither the softest nor the stiffest in the array. More in the middle. I'm not sure what kind of bird it came from, but it's long and thin with a stiff shaft and medium-stiff hairs. I skip the oil for this first tease.

Janelle's bottom is stretched three centimeters wide. I carefully ease the feather through that wide gap taking care never to let it touch her. She doesn't know it's there until suddenly it touches her at the very depths of her bowels. I start slowly drawing it down, tracing along a line of nerves. The instant it touches her insides, Janelle screams out desperately. I hear a loud crack overhead, like wood splitting, as her body instant tests the frame. Just as immediately she's struggling hard against the straps. They win, holding her hips almost immovable while I ignore her frantic squirming struggles and concentrate on teasing her bottom. I keep going teasing her insides with that feather, stroking it right alone her previously unused nerves.

Janelle squirms as hard as she ever has in her life. She fights the straps with everything she has. And loses. They are thick for a reason. They hold her in place and steady, allowing her to do nothing but stand there and suffer the stimulating tease of hat feather. I give her about a minute with that feather, which Janelle screams bloody murder through.

I have Sophie take over for me and I step off to make sure the cameras are recording this. I can already tell it's going to be too good not to get on video. We are going to be laughing over this for years. Well, five of us will be. Janelle won't be laughing. I have one camera directly above her. I have another under her, right where the leash clips to the base, which shows her entire body from mid-shin up including her agonized face. I have another that shows her full body from the side. The last is under her pussy, pointed up to show her pussy and asshole.

Sophie keeps teasing her bottom.

Janelle keeps struggling, her struggles quickly growing so powerful that the straps are already chafing her skin. She screams desperately and wildly, like a woman who has lost all control. I stand there grinning.

Janelle doesn't shave her pussy. I keep an eye on her lips through the moderately-dense tangle of wild hairs that cover them. But don't cover them enough to block my (or the camera's) view of her slit. I watch that line, where the tips of her purplish inner folds try to poke out from between her flat, wide lips. In a couple of seconds, I can see the first of her wetness soaking that fur. In under a minute there's no mistaking that her fur is thoroughly soaked.

I walk around to her front and nudge her head up. She keeps screaming in my face. "to cum or not to cum..." I lament. "You know you have to as badly as you've ever had to. But if you do, then what? I'm not stopping. Think about how much stronger the need will be. You won't last. I'm waiting for that agony." I step back.

A minute later Janelle loses her battle not to climax. I know it when I see her pussy lips twitching crisply. But other than that, there's really no way for her to show it. She can't scream any more than she already is. Nor can she squirm and harder against her bonds. All she can do is stay where she is, held firmly still, and suffer the teases.