J McKenna - Naughty girl

Carl could only imagine what she must be going through right now. Any independent thoughts would be flushed out until she was just a vessel for Turk’s dark visions. The DeeDee he knew would be gone forever—if he couldn’t get to her soon. Very soon.

He wondered how he’d got himself into this mess. He considered himself an ordinary guy, working a normal job and dating normal women. When he’d first met DeeDee, he thought she was beautiful, but never expected what lay behind her façade. When he did, he had felt blessed. Heck, he thought, who wouldn’t?

Now he felt cursed by it.

“DeeDee, I wish you’d just put on the damn underwear in high school!” he said aloud, then immediately bit his lip, fearing Gloria was listening and watching somehow. Wasn’t that the way it worked? The “masters” spied on their slaves so they could better control them?

Carl looked around, trying to spot cameras but found none. “Probably hidden,” he muttered under his breath.

*****

“You don’t really expect to break him, do you?” Mistress Abigail asked Gloria as they sat on the couch in the spacious living room upstairs. “I mean, he doesn’t seem trainable, if you ask me.” Abigail was dressed in a simple tank top and red leather skirt, her legs splayed wide apart to give the man’s head between them more room.

Gloria took a sip of her wine and nodded to her friend. She had known Abigail for eight years now, ever since they met at a BDSM nightclub, male slaves in tow on leashes. They had taken one look at each other and burst out laughing; they’d been friends ever since.

“No, probably not. He has the look of a hunter, don’t you think?” she responded, pointing to the large TV screen that showed Carl in his cell, tied to the cot. “But I just couldn’t resist the effort, you know?”

“Oh, I know, trust me,” Abigail agreed, adjusting her legs. “Oooh, Brian, that’s nice.” Brian, of course, made no comment. His tongue was too busy for speech.

“He’s rather new, isn’t he?” Gloria asked, waving her wineglass at the energetic slave serving his mistress. Like Sven, he was dressed solely in a loincloth.

“Yes, I’ve had him about six months now. Got him from Jen in San Francisco. She grew tired of him and wanted to find a nice home for him.”

“Looks like he found it,” Gloria grinned. “I’ll bet he spends a lot of time there.”

“Ohh!” Abigail nearly lifted out of her seat. “Goodness! Yes, he’s one of the best I’ve had. And his cock is pretty good, too.”

“Can I see?” Gloria hoped it was hard. She loved holding a man’s hard cock in her hand.

“Of course. Brian,” Abigail tapped him on the head. “Take a break and go show Mistress Gloria your cock.” She sat up a little straighter.

Immediately, Brian rose, the juices from Abigail’s pussy on his face and came over to Gloria. She took in his muscular chest and six-pack abs before dropping her gaze. She could see he was excited—his loincloth couldn’t hide his bulging member. He flipped it up for her as he stood, just outside her knees, and waited for instructions.

Gloria leaned over and gripped it gently, mentally comparing it to Sven’s. It was a healthy seven inches, about the same as her slave’s. However, that gave her an idea.

“Sven, come over here.” The Swede dutifully approached. His loincloth, however, sagged limply. “Get yourself hard, I want to compare you two.”

Sven stood next to Brian, reached under his loincloth and began stroking his cock. This seemed to have an unfortunate effect on Brian—his hard cock began to wither. Gloria immediately began stroking it, causing it to return to its full glory.

Now Abigail got into the act. She slid over on the couch and pressed her face next to Gloria’s shoulder, taking in the action. Her face was rapt, her mouth slightly open. “There’s just nothing like a man’s hard cock, is there?” she said dreamily.

“No, although you know I like my girls.”

That was certainly true. While Abigail preferred to train male slaves exclusively, Gloria reveled in her bi-sexuality. Besides Carl, she had another wing of her “dungeon” that contained two female slaves she was currently training. One for herself and another for a friend.

Sven’s cock was nearly fully extended now. Gloria made the men stand hip to hip and compared them. They were about the same length and thickness. The most obvious difference: Brian’s cock was circumcised, while Sven still had his thick foreskin. It hadn’t bothered Gloria before, but now she wasn’t so sure.

“What do you think of his foreskin?” she asked Abigail.

“Well, you know me. I like ‘em undressed. Otherwise, sometimes it’s like making love to a man in a turtleneck.”

Gloria laughed, but it got her to thinking. Perhaps she could have the offending skin removed. “The operation’s not all that difficult for an adult, is it?”

Her words, more thoughts spoken out loud than a question for Abigail, caused Sven’s cock to deflate at once. Both women laughed again. “Oh, Sven, don’t worry. I’m only talking about it. I’m not sure it’s something I need to do.”

But the seed was planted in her mind and Sven probably knew it. His cock hung limply between his legs. It irritated Gloria and she knew just what would fix it. “Sven,” she barked, “service me.” She spread her legs.

Abigail snapped her fingers at Brian and moved back to her former position on the couch. He dove back underneath her short red skirt and started licking her anew.

Sven dropped down to his knees and carefully unfastened the lower part of his mistress’s bustier and moved it out of the way, exposing her naked loins to him. He dipped down and ran his tongue lightly across the closed slit, just as he’d been trained to do.

Thanks to his mistress’s careful training, Sven could make love to a woman for hours, beginning with his touch on her sensitive skin, then using his lips and tongue in all her erogenous zones until she was a puddle of muscle and flesh, her bones poking through her skin. Only then would he tease his hard cock into her sopping wet canal to bring her to new heights of pleasure. The man was a dream.

Gloria let Sven’s tongue work its magic while her mind drifted to the problem of this Carl fellow. She didn’t want the intrusion, she just couldn’t help it—she had taken Carl because Turk probably would’ve killed him. She didn’t have that meanness within her, thank god. She was a lover, not a fighter, although she didn’t hesitate to use whatever means necessary to train her slaves.

But that brought her back to Carl’s innate character. Not all men were like Sven and Brian, of that she was very clear. Turning Carl into a pleasure slave might not be possible. Then what? Send him back to Turk to be killed? Wouldn’t that just make her an accomplice to murder?

Sven’s gentle tongue worked home, bringing her mind back to the present. She could feel her clit sigh and extend like a reluctant maiden. Gloria noted she was still a bit tender from their energetic session last night—having a new slave in her dungeon always made her horny and she had taken it out on her trusty Sven. Now she wanted Sven to slow down. She reached up and pushed down the demi-cups of her bustier.

“Sven,” she said. “Nipples.”

Immediately, Sven moved up over her stomach to attach his soft, pulpy lips onto her right nipple. He nibbled and sucked for a few minutes until it extended to its full length, then he moved to the left.

Gloria marveled at how well Sven knew her body. He was so well-trained, he could sense her needs with a touch or a word, always bringing her to orgasm after orgasm. She was never going to let this man go.

She found her mind wandering again, to the first time Sven came to be her slave. He had been a raw immigrant, working as a bouncer in one of Hank’s clubs. She could tell right away he wasn’t a fighter. He’d been drawn to the lifestyle because he couldn’t help himself, and took the first job that was offered. He was a lousy bouncer; that much became evident.