Note:
This story begins in part 1. I was new in town and in my job at the university. Marty Sutter was one of my peers in the department. I was taken with her sharp looks and funny sense of humor so I jumped at the invitation to meet her two friends Sylvia and Lauren on her porch for summer drinks and laughs. Little did I know just how far I would be made to jump for my three new friends. I hope you'll read part one.
* * *
I saw Marty at work as usual; she was all business but pleasant, and friendly. I didn't have any reason to see either of her two accomplices, Sylvia or Lauren, because they worked in other departments on the other side of campus. From Marty's behavior you would have no reason to guess just a weekend ago they taught me my first CFNM lessons. After being stripped of my cloths and subjected to a series of taunts and torments I ended up on Marty Sutter's dining table, naked on hands and knees as she and her two cohorts milked my prostrate with a long silicon probe. I had a prostate-milked orgasm which, though delightful for my tormentors—I did supply plenty of "cream" for their coffee-did not produce a typical orgasm for me. In other words my pressure was released but my pleasure was not quenched. I was sent home with explicit instructions to not touch myself to orgasm until they saw me again. I was told there would be serious consequences if I didn't follow their rules. They had plenty on me, and lots of pictures on their phones to prove it. I believed they would make me pay if I didn't obey.
I felt ravaged, and spent after last weekend's evening of humiliation and abuse. I was also more sexually aroused and excited by that experience then I have ever been in my life. Of course I had heard of CFNM-frankly, it turned me on¬¬¬¬-but I never thought it could happen anywhere but in my head.
* * *
My email on Friday morning brought the usual bevy of work related academic fodder: mandatory research committee meeting reminder, cafeteria services menu, grade change request, basket ball tickets for sale, late assignment excuse, mandatory research meeting cancelled, request for recommendation letter, basketball tickets still for sale, keys lost, basketball tickets sold, moral turpitude draft document for review—WTF?- recommendation letter request, keys found. I checked my personal account. All the usual but then I found this email from Marty.
Hi Jerry,
You were just delightful last weekend. Sylvie, Lauren, and I talked about our night of "Pictionary" all week. Speaking of pictures, you should see the ones we have of you, dear boy. Priceless! We have decided to make you a regular member in our little club. Please be at Sylvia's place Saturday at 7:00p sharp. Sylvia's contact info is attached. Don't worry about dress. Doesn't matter; you'll be out of your clothes in no time anyway. Hmmm maybe we should have you arrive naked...we'll see. e.g.
Fondly,
Marty
Oh, and Jerry, I certainly hope you kept our deal-You haven't squeezed the cream out of your cream stick since we've seen you, have you? If you disobeyed us about this you will be in serious trouble, young man.
* * *
I felt my heart race as I read her email. "...Decided to make me a member in there little club...disobey...serious trouble," Marty was treating me like a little boy and I was just a year or two younger than her and her friends. What had I gotten myself into? And no, I had not "squeezed my cream stick," to use Marty's expression. As torturous as it was, I had not masturbated all week. My memories of my night with the ladies and the prospect of being with them again drove me crazy. I wanted to jerk off so badly but I held off all week half out of fear of the consequences and half just wanting to please my new friends. I couldn't believe the things they made me do. There was no denying the easy power they held over me, nor the simple fact that I was thrilled to be submissive to my Tres XXX Amigas.
* * *
It was tedious waiting for the calendar and clock to tick off the days and hours till Saturday. On Friday I finished work and raced home. I didn't go out and I had to Xanax myself to sleep from all the sexual tension. Saturday did not go any faster. I map-quested directions to Sylvia's address a couple of different ways and then, on Google Earth, I tried to will myself inside her house to quell my anxiety. An hour and a half before I was to leave I got a call from Marty.
"Jerry, its Marty. Are you excited about coming over to Syl's tonight?" Before I could answer she went on, "We certainly are." She had a way of doing that, talking over you before you had a chance to respond. "You were just too much last weekend; and so well behaved." I waited for a pause.
"Hi Marty. And yes, I'm pretty excited to spend some more time with..." She cut me off again.
"Jerry, you didn't jerk your big dick off this week, did you...you didn't shoot your goo into a sticky puddle? Hmmm? Be honest because we will be able to tell."
"No, Marty."
"No what, Jerry?" Marty said sternly.
"No, Marty, I did not have an orgasm since I left your place last weekend."
"That isn't what I asked you, now is it, Jerry—what did I ask you?"
"No, Marty, I didn't jerk my big dick off this week."
"ah-hem."
"...And I did not shoot my goo into a sticky puddle."
"Very good, Jerry." Marty breathed into my ear. "Then you just might have one tonight if you behave. Oh, Sylvia thought I should warn you that her niece is visiting." Before I could question or protest she went on, "She is an art student from the Universidad De Polytechnica in Argentina. I've met her-she's lovely—you'll like her."
"Marty, I'm not sure how I feel about anyone else being there. I mean, it would be mortifying to have someone else there. This is all so new to me."
I was stammering at the thought of what that might mean; either we would not get to play or they were inviting someone else into their play session. Either way I was worried that things were getting out of hand much faster than I could handle. It was unbelievable enough that I was submitting myself to Marty and her two friends, Silvia and Lauren but even more so that they could invite anyone else into their game. I could feel my stomach clenching from fear... and yes, excitement.
"Oh, don't be silly, Jerry, you'll be fine and besides, do I have to remind you about our agreement that we went over last weekend?"
"No, Marty I remember..."
"What do you remember, Jerry?" She pressed and I knew she wanted me to state what we had agreed upon"
"I agreed to serve you, Sylvia, and Lauren when I was in any of your homes. I am to obey and to follow your instructions without asking questions. And if I do not do as any of you request I will be punished."
"Good boy, Jerry. Now hurry on with your primping. Sylvia's niece will be here when you arrive but she's going out clubbing with friends so I don't want her to miss meeting you."
* * *
"pssst, over here, silly. We're out back." Marty called to me from the side of the house. For a woman just past sixty she looked great. She was dressed in white slacks and a sleeveless, pale yellow, silk knit top. The color set off her smooth tanned complexion. She was thin with good shoulders and a bit of definition in her arms from an active workout life. Her hips were full and her legs long and shapely. She wore suede flats that showed her shapely ankles and pretty feet. With short blond hair in a cute business cut, glasses and handsome features Marty was a looker. She led the way to a beautiful sitting area under a stained wooden pergola.
"Hello Sylvia. Hello Lauren," I said as I greeted Marty's two friends.
I surveyed the setting. What would I call the lavish area behind Sylvia's architect-designed home? It was too big and beautiful to call a yard yet too small to refer to as the grounds. The pallet of leafy colors and textures, varietal grasses, perennial shrubs, and perfectly quaffed trees felt natural but was anything but; this display of taste, design, landscaping, and subtle lighting was the result of much money and effort. It all worked to create a serene ambiance that was more beautiful than the interiors of many houses I'd seen.
"Sit down, Jerry. Lets relax a minute and catch up," Sylvia said. I sat down between Marty and Lauren. Where Marty was a handsome woman Sylvia, probably five years younger than Marty, was beautiful. She had all the characteristics of the mature Latin: warm olive complexion, black hair with hints of gray and strong features with a few natural lines; evidence of a love of sun, smiles, and laughing. She had a big strong beauty that never lost an ounce of fiery femininity. She also had a way about her that could charm the pants off any women—Marty had told me Sylvia was a lesbian—or any man for that matter as I found out last week over our game of Pictionary. If Sylvia were gay I'd guess she was bi-enjoying both men and women...so long as they were submissive to her. She wore a very sexy summer dress in Cerulean with a lighter gray pin dot pattern that came to just below the knee. Her gorgeous legs were bare.
Lauren was a sugar bomb. The youngest of the three at about forty-ish, she was heavy and carried her curvy weight like an athletic person. She had very fair, milky skin, chubby arms and legs, beautiful thin ankles and wrists and the prettiest, sexiest hands and feet, which were once again, mani-peddied to perfection. Her huge breasts were very visible through the loose and open neckline of her blouse. Her small nipples were pronounced and hardening. I wondered if I'd ever get to taste and hold them. I did get to explore her sumptuous ass last weekend when she pushed me down on the dining table and crawled up over me. With her skirt over my head she had smothered me in the hot wet folds of her pussy as she rode my face. I think she had an orgasm when I forced my tongue through the tiny ring of her anus. She was wearing a short skirt again. My mind started to wander. Lauren noticed and smirked, then winked conspiratorially at me. I felt it in my pants as my cock began to move.
Silvia, our gracious host and ever the impatient Latina couldn't resist getting right to the point.
"Jerry, you were a doll to serve us so completely last weekend. We all had such a good time playing with you. How about you, Jere, did you enjoy yourself being our naked man-servant?"
I felt a rush of embarrassment. I was probably blushing but before I could speak Lauren interrupted.