Second meeting
"Hey guy, we need to talk."
Bill was dumbstruck. It had been more than 7 months since I took him back to his place and fucked him senseless, the first and last time he'd seen me. Back then, I'd had a tight and toned belly, now it was the round curve of a very pregnant woman. It was fake, but Bill didn't know. I was waiting for him in the parking lot outside his apartment, where we knew he parked, when we knew he'd be alone.
"Oh, uh... wow. Umm," he managed to stammer out, no doubt his mind racing to figure out what to say and not finding anything. I almost smiled at how effective the ruse was, but capitalized on it to get him inside quickly.
"Yeah, tell me about it. Inside? It's cold," I said as I started walking towards the side entrance, less chance of being seen.
"Of course," he said, managing to get ahead of me and unlock the door. The half flight of stairs to the second floor and a few steps to his door were crossed without any talking. I followed him inside and closed the door behind us. As he started to say something, his back turned to me as he removed his shoes, I snuck an arm around his neck and grabbed the crook of my other arm, the hand of which was pulling Bill's head forward. A textbook rear naked choke, something Lori and I had practised countless times, and something we both did at our BJJ classes. He tried to say or yell something, tried to fight back but couldn't get a hold of anything. A few seconds later, he lost consciousness.
It was easy. Besides the grappling training, I was taller than Bill's 5'8". And considerably stronger, even more-so than I'd been when we met last spring when I'd still been bigger than him. We'd tried out and tracked quite a few candidates before choosing him, an attractive young man of 20, shorter in height without much muscle without being too skinny-fat. His best features were his soft blue eyes, generous attitude, and nice big cock.
I'd first spotted him at a grocery store of all places, putting some ramen into his basket, sure enough sign of a bachelor. I shot a 'met a thing, ttyl' text to Lori, then an hour later after chatting him up over a coffee in the deli, we were back at his place, and I was pleased to find the bulge that had been showing through his shorts was a grower, a girthy uncut 8." A trimmed but a bit overdue bush. I spent the next few hours giving him the best sex of his life, and some of the last 'normal' sex he'd ever have, if my glance at his pad was any indication of a regular girlfriend. On round three, after inquiring about Bill's bill of health, I let him go raw, and when he tried to pull out I wrapped by strong legs around his hips. All part of the plan. I left that night while he slept, with someoneelse's phone number written down on his nightstand.
When I felt him go limp in my arms, I carefully let him down. From my purse I pulled out my rope, gag, choker and blindfold, and in short order had him trussed up. I went back downstairs and let Lori in.
We gathered up a few things from the place, gave him a small shot of ethanol and GHB, then stuffed him into a comically large piece of luggage, into the van, and settled in for the long drive home, well outside the city. Bill slept most of the way.
Some months later
"Rise and shine, sleepy!" I said, giving Bill's house a good knocking. It was a metal box with a door, and inside there was nothing. Nothing except Bill, a warm butt plug, and a can for him to piss in.
"Good morning, Mistress" he answered. Anything else earns him a punishment, and Bill doesn't like his punishments, despite the effort we put into them. Bill used to spend entire days in pain, until he learned his place in the world. He's much better, now, and usually only gets hurt for our amusement.
I unlocked his door, and let him out to do his bathroom duties. A shave, a poop, a shower and an enema. Sometimes one of us will watch him, but today Lori was upstairs busy with a Zoom meeting, and I had to catch up on some reading.
Bill wrapped up quick, as he always does. Once when he tried to dawdle, I asked him if he'd like to live in a bathroom, and he was confused. Later, Lori and I pissed on him through the vent in his house while he was sleeping, and he stewed in it overnight. He doesn't dawdle anymore.
Naked except for his decorative "butt slut" collar and his Reminder, I beckoned him over to my chair and treated myself to one of his now-stellar headjobs. He got right to work, gently removing my underwear, sucking and licking exactly how I like, without ever taking his big blue eyes off me, caressing one or the other of my perfect breasts. I ran my hands through his hair, and soon grabbed hold of it to move his face around as I came on it. He licked me clean of any saliva and juice, and I even stood up to let him lick my asshole, too, the lucky boy.
It was still early, too early for anything more vigorous, so I asked Bill if he'd like a favour and he asked to take his Reminder out, like he always does. I said no this time, but let him watch some television instead. Sitting on the floor of course. Bill doesn't get to use people furniture.
All things considered, despite not being a person anymore and finding himself in all sorts of painful predicaments, Bill had it pretty good. He could have been enslaved by a man (Bill doesn't like cock, but he's learning) or some ugly people, instead he had us as his owners. Lori and I are beautiful. She's shorter than me, a raven-haired Filipino to my blue-blonde Caucasian, tits on the smaller side, but more than made up for with an amazing booty and cruel mind. We were a match made in heaven, one of those rare pairings of people who really are perfect for each other, no 'rounding up to The One', compounded by the statistical rarity of two sadists meeting and falling in love. The only problem in paradise was that switching isn't ideal, and finding new girls and boys to use wasn't just a hassle, but so inhibiting when you have to let them go later. We needed something more permanent, less restrictive, and now we had Bill.
We even let him cum pretty often. Usually after a long session of being whipped or beaten or fucked in the ass, but not always. We're generous.
Lori brought down his breakfast as I was working out, giving him a break from his daily stretching yoga routine. Bill needs good flexibility to fit into some of the situations he gets into around here.
With her hair back in a ponytail, and only a red thong and a matching bikini top, Lori had all she needed to look great. She came over and gave me a smooch at the top of my deadlift, and asked if I had any plans for the day.
"Just the regular, honey. You?"
"All wrapped up for now, but I'm in a mood. My fuckup assistant fucked up again, I think I'll have to replace her."
"I hate incompetent people." Turning to one, I said "Did you hear that, slave? Lori's in a mood," I laughed. The slightest smile crossed Lori's lips as she gazed at our toy.
"Yes Mistress. I'm sorry, Maam." Bill answered, finishing up his shake. He's not allowed to use our real names and he never hears his.
"I need a distraction, slut," she said to him. He was already looking a bit sad that his day was unlikely to be limited to more bearable fare. "Luckily, I'm ready. Go to the big room, there's a new thing in there. Sit on the stool and it should be obvious where everything else goes, don't make me do all the work."
"Yes Ma'am."
After he left the main room, Lori turned to me. "Coming? I will be."
I laughed, "of course, sweetie" and gave her a hug.
"Ew, go shower."
When I got back downstairs, sporting a matching thong and bra to Lori's, Bill was in position. The 'new thing' was a thick wooden post attached firmly to the floor, about 4 feet tall and 10 inches to a side. Against it was a stool, where Bill sat back to the post, looking very nervous. Around his neck and bolted to the post was a thick metal collar, about 3 inches tall, not tight enough to choke him but with very little wiggle room. His arms were back and fully extended down the sides of the post, where his wrists were each held in place by cuffs, also bolted to the post. I smiled at the thought of Bill sitting down and tightening the bolts around his own neck and one of his arms, preparing himself for his own torture.
Lori was asking him which he preferred to be struck with, the singletail whip or the cane. She held both, and was using the end of the cane to poke around his belly and make him squrim.
"I don't know, Ma'am."
Lori pulled the cane back and smacked him on the side of his thigh, quite hard. "Answer the question or I'll use the cattle prod all day."
"Ooow, sorry. The cane, I prefer the cane."
She smacked him in the same spot, on the other leg. "This one?"
"Gah, yes, that one."
"Maybe you should have answered right away. I'll use the whip." Bill's bottom lip trembled just a little, but he knows better than to cry from something so minor.
Putting the cane back on the wall, Lori stood in front of him with the narrow whip.
"Ask me to start whipping you, slut."
Bill took a deep breath, and calmly asked "Please whip me, Ma'am."
Swish. Thwack!
The strike was across his naked chest.
Bill grimaced, but counted "One."
"You don't need to count, slut."
It was going to be a long session.
It took fifty or so strikes before Bill started whimpering, and another twenty for the whimpering to turn into groans.
Swish. Thwack!
The thin red marks were starting to accumulate, turning his previously barely-marked chest red. The whip isn't a heavy one, but it adds up.
Swish. Thwack!
Lori was wide-eyed and smiling, I loved to watch her work, and knew she was getting wet. But she has self-control, she'd hold off on using his cock or tongue until later.
