Dallas Mayo - For women only

"Good girl. You're in now. Hold it right there."

"Hmm?"

"No, don't move. Don't you dare move!"

"Oh…"

"Wait. You'll see. Just wait, let me get organized. There now, it's starting. Can you feel that?"

"I-I'm not sure. Hey. Wow! Adelaide!"

"Really getting to you, huh?"

"Nnng…"

She laughed again, but I didn't care now, not as long as that ring of muscle went on flexing like that, exerting tiny pull-pressures on my buried nipple. It didn't seem possible, but she was actually controlling the contractions in a slowly pulsating rhythm. I moaned aloud but couldn't manage to utter the words that kept running through my mind – suck it, suck my tit, suck my nipple, suck it, suck it, suck it with your asshole! – oh shit, such a lovely thought; why did it have to stick in my throat like that?

"Baby, baby, little doll-baby, that gets me so horny! Too much, too much. I can't stand it any more. Do my cunt now, fuck me with your tits. Nice big tits. In my cunt. Now. Fuck me!"

I hated the idea of leaving that happy little nook. But orders were orders, and I was still an obedient slave. And then all of a sudden I didn't mind so much, plunging through the black frizz and stuffing my tit – the other one now – into that wet gash. I shoved and squirmed nightily, burying the big swollen thing in slippery flesh and feeling that thick fringe of hair tickling all around, another new sensation; was there no end to the deliciously lewd variations of lesbian love?

Well, not love maybe, that was reserved for my mistress. But this skinny old bitch was sure lovable, just the same, and I'd be glad to fuck her like this all night. Or suck her. Which was how we got here, come to think of it; wasn't I supposed to be drinking straight from the well? Uh-huh. The cunt well. No hurry, though, my tits were kind of thirsty, too.

Things were beginning to get wild, even hectic at times. And a bit out of hand, I thought, an impression that recurred more and more often. It was in the atmosphere. Our ocean paradise had begun to reek of something less heavenly. Julia seemed to agree with that estimate, too, although we hadn't actually discussed it. I could just tell by her attitude, pretty cagey now, especially the way she kept tabs on me – for my own safety, no doubt. The crowd was simply too thick for organized swapping, and that led to increasingly orgiastic notions. It hadn't reached the orgy stage yet – nothing like those silly fantasies of mine! – but it was getting so a girl couldn't wander around alone without being pounced on.

Then, too, I noticed a growing tendency toward rather bold displays of intimacy in public. Public within the group, of course, inside the house, well hidden from that other world out there. But with so many guests on the premises, there was always a sizable audience for such exhibitions. And apparently an ever-mounting number of eager exhibitionists, from what I could judge. Lovemaking in private hadn't exactly gone out of style yet – I'd vouch for that! – but the other kind was sure gaining in popularity.

True, I had done it myself once, that ordeal on our first night here. Sucking cunt in full view all those unknown women, a bold display if ever there was one. Apprentice slave-girl on her knees in abject humility, naked and learning her trade! But my mistress had ordained it for a specific purpose – an expedient, nothing more – pushing me over an awkward but imperative hurdle in a hurry. Nor had she seen fit to repeat it since then, bless her heart. Anyway, it wasn't like these recent performances that were tainting the general atmosphere.

I had no right to gripe, admittedly; after all, it was no skin of my ass if some old bitch couldn't be happy without her own personal "doggie" always around. Sniffing at her heels. Sure, we young ones were all pets to our mistresses, but there was such a thing as carrying it too far. She was cute, too, the little doggie, trotting on all fours, naked, with a silver collar on her neck and a long silver leash. The mistress had a small silver whip dangling from her wrist, for show mainly, but I did see it used lightly ever so often if the doggie's behavior was less than perfect.

Eventually, just about everybody grew accustomed to the weird sight, patting the kid's head and feeding her snacks. But there were some novelties, too, acts deliberately staged in the big living room by one or another of the women with some knowledge of show business. It was supposed to be a good one the night Julia took me downstairs to watch, a well-rehearsed dance group, according to the grapevine. Even the lighting was special, everything going black for a long moment and then the lamps coming back on slowly to reveal the dancers in their places.

Three girls were crouched in the middle of the floor, clad in some fragile material that was wrapped scarf-like around them. As the music came up on the stereo, they rose, swaying languorously on bare feet, and began to dance. At least it was like a dance. But the movement consisted only of a leisurely circling around each other, all three of them, and their sole motive seemed to be the unwinding of their cover, yard after yard of diaphanous fabric. It was effective, more so than I had expected. The girls were young and graceful and quite lovely. As more and more of the net-like veils floated free, I could sense the urge of the audience – the same as mine – an urge to leap up and shed our clothing and become part of the show. But no one did, of course, nobody even moved. And the girls continued their gyrations, stripping nude at last. Only it was no longer a dance now, it was a cluster of three snakes entwining about one another. And there was no pretense of keeping time with the music.

The cluster sank to the floor, becoming a heap of female flesh, a pile-up of squirming, writhing bodies that had no beginning and no end. Arms and legs tangled in complex confusion. Until, gradually, the knot loosened and allowed a little freedom. Muted sobs rose now and then to penetrate the thickly orchestrated music. Oh, it was quite a performance! Three girls, three young lesbians – naked and nicely endowed – kissing and caressing and embracing. Sighing and moaning, parting and converging in ever-changing patterns. With a variety of breasts and nipples and pubic mounds, even a flash of pretty pink vulva here and there, all in colorful contrast and yet somehow retaining the appearance of a matched set. A sight to make the blood surge…

Afterward, the aroused audience had its chance to get into the act. But the central trio was gone by then, so the act became piecemeal, a little amateurish but a lot more realistic. As usual, the old bitch and her doggie were looking for attention. They too had been affected by the show, though, so the activity was even less inhibited. The doggie barked and yelped and panted, licking the hand of anyone who patted her. But the old mistress taught her how to sit up on her hind legs, a new trick, enabling her to sniff crotches instead of just feet. And it took only a threat of the silver whip to send her from crotch to crotch. I didn't feel sorry for her any more, not after watching all that doggie-type enthusiasm. Okay, so they were both bitches! I'd know better than to waste my sympathy next time.

I saw Kitten off in a corner and was glad that she had found herself an amiable companion, thus saving me the trouble of turning her down again. She had tried to entice me into one of these open performances any number of times, always with no success. Not that I objected to the kid in bed, oh no, it was just her complete lack of shame that brought an automatic refusal. As slave to the hostess, she felt it her duty to keep the sexy action stirred up by setting a personal example. Which was just what she seemed to be doing now with her tall blonde friend in the corner, although somewhat discreetly at the moment – for Kitten, certainly! – what with the dim lighting over there.