Flashback to the Ranch - Third Month
Having finally caught up to my Club Latex subjects out at the ranch, it was a pleasure to relax. To be fair, since our 'conversions' I found most everything was now pleasurable, but our new digs provided an excellent place to indulge myself. The ginormous new Latex Lodge the girls had built was like a Viking Great Hall that was mostly all open living space. Or, if you prefer, loving space - sorta like our old loft in the city, but way bigger. And better!
To be honest, it was really just a glorified barn, with rough boards for floors and walls. But it was wicked cozy inside, with lots of layers of soft Persian carpets on top of the planking. In turn, the rugs were mostly hidden under piles of fat pillows and cushions. More oriental rugs were hung on the walls, in the spaces between delightfully rude paintings (and etchings, of course), and the shelves of equally rude books. Basically the joint looked like a sultan's harem, if he was deeply into fetishes.
Scattered throughout were bowls of fruit and pitchers of spring water, while here and there were silver pails full of sex toys and jewelry. We may not often have worn clothes, but whips, paddles and veiny-looking rubber wangs were always popular. Not to mention sparkly baubles on gold chains, bracelets - and on hooks, everyone having multiple piercings.
There were also quite a few mirrors, in spite of the fact that our base model, full-latex Subs all looked alike, with the major exception that some were enhanced with a dick roughly where their clitoris should be (and whom, given their equipment was always prominently at the ready, we had started calling Stiffy-Subs). Even the glittery things - or the knobbly items - didn't help with telling basic Subs apart, owing to pretty much all that stuff gets shared around. One girl's amber pussy pendant might spend part of an afternoon with the trailing end down another girl's throat. By evening, it may see service as somebody else's earring. Not mine, what with no ear-lugs and all - the last time that particular bit of bling came my way I hung it from one of my rigid nipples, and later left it swinging from a Stiffy's pierced dick.
Case in point - I was taken from behind that same day and rogered for the better part of an hour. (I suppose I should also mention that, notwithstanding my status as the Supreme Being Empress Lori, I encourage this sort of thing.) We chatted, and then whoever was fucking me read aloud a chapter of Fanny Hill from a leather-bound tome spread across my ass. Meanwhile three more Subs performed the action in the story for me. More or less - frankly, they were improvising somewhat. First the phallus-equipped actor commenced to fucking one of her two cock-free sisters in the scripted way - albeit on a tabletop. Then the second Sub climbed up to smooch with the aforesaid fuckee, while presenting her own juicy box in the air to be munched by the fucker. And the whole time I was being pumped relentlessly by the narrator, both of us were cumming continuously, our combined spunk and juices frothing and splashing between us, on and on and on ...
*
Erm. Sorry. Just stepped out to take a pearl-polishing break. Where was I going with that? Oh, yeah. My point is, I didn't figure out who any of them were. Also, the end of the story is that, while I did indeed encourage Subs to occasionally take advantage of me, it was understood that punishment would ensue. So Clyde flogged my mystery fucker on my behalf because, you know, Discipline. In fact on that occasion my ex-slave commenced to lashing her backside before we were done, by way of encouragement.
All in all, I put in a lot of time simply wandering about the place and fulfilling the various needs of my lustful subjects. There were always openings to be filled - both theirs and mine. Day or night, there were at least twenty of us there entertaining ourselves in creative ways (it should also be said that we are remarkably flexible). The rest were attending to chores ... or to outdoor pleasures.
Also, I failed to mention that the Lodge was stepped into a hillside, so the far end of the Hall was at higher-ground level - which is where Pril (my XO) put in a tiled soak pool. The girls had then diverted water from a hot spring somewhere up the hill so as to flow down though the roof, creating a steaming indoor waterfall. The final visual touch was our resident mermaid Coral, who spent her time either frolicking in the pool, in and out of the toasty torrent, and fucking all comers (no pun intended) ... or basking down in the pond and likewise fucking any visitors.
At the near, south-facing end of the hall, framed by potted palms, was an archway in which was set a bright red door. And beyond the door was a sunny throne room, just for moi. This held yet more comfy (cum-fy? - sorry, can't be helped) cushions and sofas, plus a platform on which stood a well-padded chair for a throne.
Actually, the thing looked more like a commode, on account of the hole cut in the seat. That feature had been retrofitted so that on formal occasions Clyde could put her recently added tail through: she sat on the throne and I sat on her (before Emile threw open the doors, owing to the difficulty of looking cool while clambering up to impale myself on her lovely great horse-wang).
In short, there was never a dull moment ... so feel free to substitute 'Sultana' for 'sultan' above.
~~~~~~~
That's where Alice found me - enthroned - a week after my grand arrival (and maybe three weeks before she and May went off for that family birthday thing). As it happened, Clyde and I were just having a good time that morning. Or rather taking a breather - while still docked, of course. I was leaning comfortably back on Clyde's three pair of soft boobies. The girl chose to kneel before me, the cheeky slut, to announce that Club Latex had inducted eight new members.
"Since when? And how, exactly?" I was aware that, weirdly enough, we'd had no problem attracting people back when we were in the city. Given we had moved here expressly to cruise under the radar, my questions boiled down to: How could this have been done quietly?
Alice understood, and said, "It's not like we advertise. Only, Pril asked our crowd if they could think of any friends or lovers that might want to join us. We've had some takers already. The LG herself makes the call and one of the minions picks up the candidate."
"Surely these people don't tell their friends they're coming here?"
"Don't call me Shirley," was Alice's predictable response.
I glared at her, with no apparent effect.
"Of course not," she continued. "And they're vetted down at the farmhouse 'Wellness Center' to make sure they know what they're getting into."
Having knelt in front of us, Alice began nibbling and licking my squashed clitoris at the seam between me and Clyde. Then she hooked her fingers into Clyde's pussy (remember that my, ah, assistant is equipped with both horse cock and cunnie). It was enough to make my fuck-buddy lurch hard up into me. Grinning, she added, "Plus, we re-opened Club Latex."
"Ooof! Say what?"
"It's like this. A friend of Emile's was out of work. So Emile took him around to the club site and told him how, on the night it first opened, there'd been a good crowd. But then at some point everybody there had been drugged - by an aerosol, maybe - and they all started to hallucinate and strip and jump each other's bones like in a '60's movie ... and then the weird couple who'd opened the place panicked and ran away. But the good news, he said, was that on their way out the couple - or rather one of 'em - threw him, Emile, the door keys. And the lease is good for a full year. So the friend agreed to take over. Then Emile explained how he was worried some of the people who'd been there that night might still be delusional and come back, or somebody with a really really good costume might come around asking about what happened, and that this friend should call him so he could come right over to help them out."
