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“Your turn Jessie,” I told her, catching her green eyes. Ham seized the moment and tipped the end of the dark bottle into her glass, emptying the last of the dark red wine.

“Okay. Okay,” Jessie said, hands in front of her as if to stop a fall. “But this one is soooo not me, I can’t even believe I’m saying it.” She took a resolved sip from her glass, and I thought about the wine momentarily, there on her tongue. “It must be the Shiraz talking,” she said, gesturing with the glass, the wine swirling as she glanced to Ham next to her and then across the Koa table at me for assurance that what she was going to say was definitely so not her.

I reached towards them, pulling one of the chilled shrimp from the medium bowl. I could smell a bare hint of garlic there; it practically melted on my tongue as I chewed and listened, adjusting my dark, hipster surf glasses.

Ham smiled and winked at me as he drew Jessie close, his strong hands roaming casually over her athletic frame, there at he table. Jessie wore a simple strappy electric blue party dress that flowed across her tan and over her curves, with a jade necklace that nestled nicely in her cleavage. In contrast, Ham’s broad and planar body was jammed into a tshirt and board shorts, forever casual.

“Okay,” Jessie started, taking a deep breath. “Here goes. Ready? For whatever reason, it makes me ‘so hot’ to think about a strong guy just grabbing me, slamming me up against a wall, holding my arms up over my head and pinning my wrists so I can’t move at all.” Her eyes were wide, as she spoke. “I can struggle, resist, and believe me I do. But it’s no use. He just holds me there, pinning my wrists and ogling me like a piece of meat. I can see in his eyes that he’s going to, you know, use me, take me any way he wants, totally just for his own pleasure. And there’s nothing I can do about it.”

She raised her glass and studied it, the brought it to her lips and avoided our eyes as she sipped deeply. Ham and I as if on cue both glanced over towards a blank space of nearby wall. The lighting was subdued, the sun outside just having set, and there was a hint of ocean and floral in the air, as well as the shrimp and wine.

“Hell yes,” Ham said, and raised his glass with a chuckle.

I returned the gesture, and we all drank. The three of us had been going around the table talking about turn ons and snips of fantasy as we indulged in ‘pau hana’, the Hawaiian word for casual time after the work day is over. The sun had set about an hour ago, and we were deep into it. Jessie had a faraway look in her eyes, but I brought her back.

“Yes, that sounds so awful and so-very-not you. I can see where you’d be reluctant to share.” I said this with a smile, kidding her as I sipped my own wine. “I’m teasing, but I do understand. You and I have talked about this before, Jessie.”

We had, and one time that conversation had ended up with her pinned to the wall, hands above her head, both of us so close to a ‘go’ moment before I released her wrists and we diffused. For many good reasons we’d never revisited that conversation, but the hint of it crept up on the periphery of conversation now and then. And now here it was, in full bloom, like a delicious wine you haven’t tasted in a long while.

“You’re physical and in control all the time at your job Jessie, and in your life, and this is a very different kind of thing to think about. Someone overpowering you, taking away all your control, giving you no choice.”

“I don’t know,” Jessie said, leaning into Ham, smiling and squirming as his hands continued to roam over her. “It just sounds so… not me. I’m strong, I have to be strong, and like you say, in control. Not weak. I could never be that submissive.” Her eyes were on me as she said this.

“You think a submissive is weak?” I asked, my eyes over the frames of my glasses and placing my glass on the table. “Why?”

“Letting someone overpower you? That sounds weak to me.”

“Maybe. I can see where some submissives certainly are weak, that way. Physically. But it doesn’t have to be that way. And what’s more, any submissive at all can be profoundly strong, and actually have a great deal of influence over the situation.”

“Nope,” she said, smiling shaking her head as she took another sip. Defiant. “I’m not sold.”

That last phrase made me smile, and gave me an idea.

I knew Jessie was submissive by nature, deep down. So many things pointed to it, even though she had some inaccurate ideas about what submission was, or could be. I decided tonight was going to be a learning experience. Ham and I had talked about this kind of thing before, guy-talk about past experiences. I was more into the Dominant/submissive mindset, while he was just a fan of anything at all that made him and his girl hot.

“Nipples don’t lie, Jessie…” I pointed out.

My eyes gestured to the top of her dress, to the two pronounced points there, then back up. The three of us were close friends; seeing Ham fondle her openly or making comments about her body wasn’t new ground for us. But still, dancing towards a patch of “new ground” was always enticing. With that thought, my bit of inspiration was starting to firm up into something more solid.

So to speak.

“That’s Hamilton’s fault,” she laughed, and shooed his hands off her body.

“I don’t think so,” I said. “I think they were straining even before he started touching you, when you were sitting there working up the courage to actually say what was on your mind. It’s been your turn forever Jessie, and you finally screwed up your courage. Not that I was paying close attention, or anything,” I said with a smile.

“Whatever,” she said in a play mocking child’s voice. “And whatever, about the submissive thing. I don’t get the whole ‘50 Shades of Grey’ deal. Why is it so popular? I have girl friends who have never read a risqué thing in their entire lives who’ve read all three of those books.” With that she grabbed a shrimp and brought it to her lips. Both she and Ham were focusing on me now, as if on a lecturer with a topic they both cared about.

Let the learning begin.

“Well,” I began, “it touches something… very fundamental in a lot of women, it seems.” I gestured widely with my own wine glass, catching Ham’s eye.

“Like what, do you think?” Ham asked, getting into it. We often picked up on each other’s cues, and the talk was starting to build up a little inertia. He leaned his chair back on two legs, balancing it and resting his arm across Jessie’s shoulders as they listened.

“A little like we just talked about,” I said. “Think of most women you know.” I looked at Jessie and held out my hand towards her. “Lots of responsibility, yes? All day every day they have to be in charge. Lots of plates spinning in the air. All these expectations, all this stress.” I grabbed another shrimp, chewed, and wiped my mouth with my linen napkin. “Deep inside, what woman wouldn’t want to hear the crash of all those plates falling to the floor? Imagine that bit of euphoria for a second, just letting it all go. Letting go of all that worry, that constant attention to every little detail, if only for a little while. In the book, the character Christian asserted control over Ana, and gradually took away all of that worry and stress crashed those plates down loudly around her. He put other stuff in its place, pushing out almost everything else in a yummy way. It was mostly sexual, but that’s just as impactful, more, maybe. It’s like saying ‘Hey – you don’t have to worry about anything; just give yourself over and I’m totally in charge. All you have to do here, all you have to worry about is what I tell you to.’”

Silence, for a few heartbeats. Jessie was quiet, considering.

“Hellllll yes,” Ham agreed and breaking the silence, coming forward and accenting the point with the thud of the chair’s legs hitting the floor.

We all laughed.

“Maybe,” Jessie said. “I can see where having someone else calling the shots for once would be nice. But totally giving up control? That feels… dangerous.”

“With women…” I replied, looking at Ham as I spoke but really addressing Jessie, “…it turns out that exact feeling is directly tied to libido; directly wired to her clit.”

Ham winked at me, and right then I knew I could go a bit further with this. New territory.

Inspired, I emptied my glass and stood up from the table. “I can prove it. I can also prove there’s intense strength in submission, as well as power. It’s not a contradiction.” I looked again to Ham, who gave me a slight nod. He was into this.

Then I reached out my hand to his girlfriend. “Do you trust me, Jessie?” I gave a warm smile, the two gestures being sort of a dare, and I knew she was up for a dare.

She took my hand, turned her head slightly and gave a wary “Yes.”

I pulled gently and she rose, her dress falling back into place over her slim hips after being pushed up a bit by Ham’s wandering hands. “Come over here,” I directed as I led her a few feet from the table, in plain view of her boyfriend. “Face our boy Hamilton.”

“You’re not going to bring out whips and chains, are you?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at me. Her voice was nervous, tentative, but I’d noticed as she rose her nipples were still very hard, clearly poking under her bra and the dress. While her words expressed hesitancy, I thought her voice was clearly wondering if I in fact had whips and chains laying about, and if I’d be bold enough to produce them.

“I don’t need any of that, young lady,” I assured her. “Mostly I just need my voice, and my will as a man.” I stepped behind her and put my hands on her hips, gently but firmly, and turned her as I wanted her, still facing Ham but back from the table enough so that he could see all of her and I had room to move around her. “My voice, my will, and whatever we have here on the table will serve just fine. Ham?” I said, turning to him with my hands still holding her in place. “Do me a favor and pick a word. Any word, at random.”

“’Hot’,” he said without hesitation, smiling as he watched me handle and pose his girlfriend for him.

“Hmmmmm, how about a word that doesn’t have anything to do with here and now, in the dining room,” I said as I moved my fingers and traced along Jessie’s hips, then moving idly up to her are shoulders. I knew her well enough to understand she was very sensitive to touch, and I was casually stroking her shoulders as I spoke to Ham and posing her, as if it was all just part of some job I was doing. I knew she was very aware of my fingertips, and that I was taking a small liberty with her, having my way.

Her skin was warm and smooth, and my touch found slight clefts of definition and tarried there. Her body seemed to move under my fingers, even though she was almost completely still. Like a kind of energy swirling, and responding.

“Slater,” Ham decided. He was an avid surfer, part of what kept him in such great shape and tan, especially ‘for a guy his age.’

“Perfect. So then at any time while I’m doing this demonstration, any of us can say the word ‘Slater’ and we’ll stop what’s going on, got it?” I looked for confirmation, and both Jessie and Ham nodded. “Jessie, what’s the word?” I asked, my fingers still loitering on her shoulders.

“Slater,” she said, wiggling in a little show for Ham.

“Okay. Let’s start.” I moved my fingers along the base of Jessie’s neck, and leaned in close to her ear. My voice was not louder then before, but now it was firmer, clear. Not playful, but direct. “Close your eyes. Don’t open them until I tell you to. Now, put your hands in the small of your back, and cross your wrists. Good. Chest out now. There you go. Chin up.” She adjusting her body as I’d directed.

Jessie kept herself in great shape, and the pose I was having her assume made her presentation even more alluring; a hot MILF with a taut body and great curves. I reached around and lifted her chin slightly. “There we go. No fidgeting. Stay that way and keep silent until I tell you otherwise.”

So far she was being quite compliant, a sign I’d been right about her. I looked at Ham, smiled, and then without another word walked over and sat down next to him. I pointed at my wrist then up to my lips in a gesture to wait a few moments quietly and just watch, and we both looked at Jessie as she stood there in pose for us.

She had chestnut hair with blonde highlights, a little longer than shoulder length. She was tan in the way outdoorsy people in a tropical climate were and it was not a difficult minute to pass, taking in her body that way. You don’t think about it, but it’s rare as a guy you have a little time to just let your eyes play over a woman’s body like that, and Ham and I let the moments stretch as I considered what I was going to say next, where I was going to take this little lesson.

She could feel it, it seemed. While staying still her body seemed to squirm a tiny bit, as if struggling with the confines of her dress. Her lower lip pouted, and her nipples continued to protest against the sheer fabric in a way that looked almost painful.

A few moments later I stood up, making enough noise so that Jessie would know I was walking towards her, and then behind. There I put my hands on her hips again, holding firmly. My hands fell there naturally when I hugged hello or goodbye, and Ham confided in me that being held in just that way sent a tingle through her. So there was this tension between she and I, and I tapped on that doorway now with how I was handling her. This time I did it specifically to affect her, and I leaned in again close and spoke into her ear, loud enough so that Ham could hear.

“My friend is watching you. Right now. Looking at your body. You’re on display for him, and he’s drinking in every curve like he was drinking his wine. You think you know him, but I’m going to introduce him to you for the first time.” I moved to her other ear, nodding at Ham. “My friend’s name is Valerius. He is a Roman senator, a Patrician like me, and he wants to buy you, slave.”

I let that sink in. I was setting a scene for both of them, and spoke as a narrator at a play might, my voice painting a picture.

“We’re in my home right now,” I said. “And several times as Valerius and I talked business he’s inquired about buying you from me, slave. I’m trying to decide if I will let that happen. Not an easy decision.”

Ham, ‘Valerius,’ had a huge smile, and gave me a silent thumbs up.

I was back in Jessie’s ear, my hands still on her hips. “What’s my friend’s name, slave?”

“Umm,” she considered, clearly not having thought I’d test her memory. “Val… something?”

I took a hand off her hip and with the flat edge of my fingertips slapped against the back of her thigh. The strike made a *snap* against her tight muscle, and I’m sure it stung. It was supposed to.

She gasped and moved slightly, more surprised at the strike than hurt at all and I was up beside her right away, my hands both back on her hips and voice calm and very firm. “Stand up straight, slave. Eyes closed, back in pose.” She complied quickly, her breathing coming a bit faster now and there was a slight flush in her cheeks. When she settled I moved in front of her, and saw her nipples somehow even more pronounced against the blue fabric of her dress. “That very good,” I said reassuring her. “His name is Valerius, slave. Say it for me now.”

“Valerius,” she said in a tone of voice that was a little unsteady but recovering quickly.

“It means ‘strength’,” I said. “What does my good friend Valerius do for Rome?”

“He’s… a Senator.”

I let her go now, my hands slipping off. I paced slowly around her as I wove the story I’d spun up as I sat with Ham for those moments. “And a Patrician,” I added. “Which is like a noble. Very good, slave.” I looked to Ham. “Valerius my friend, how have you been?”

“Good. I mean, I’ve been well.” He said, adopting a slightly different one of voice as he smiled and eased into the role I’d created for him. “Busy. Life in the Senate is rough sometimes. I think I might need a distraction. Something to… take the edge off.”

“I’ll bet,” Jessie quipped, a smile on her face.

I gave her two more sharp swats on the back of her thigh. There were sounds like cracks in the air, and I knew her thigh would be red where I’d made contact. Jessie gasped, but I noticed she’d kept her eyes closed this time, and stayed more or less in her pose.

“Back into pose,” I admonished anyway. “Slaves don’t speak unless they are directly addressed, or given permission.” I leaned in closer in front to her, my voice even firmer. “Do you understand me, slave?”

She gave a sharp nod, and her eyes were firmly closed. I could tell she was putting an effort towards controlling her breathing, which had gotten a little ragged.

I looked back at Ham, who was still smiling very wide, enjoying this little show. I placed a hand at the base of Jessie’s neck, fingertips resting on her jugular. I could feel it bounding. “You call all Roman citizens ‘master.’ Valerius and I are both Roman citizens, so you call us ‘master’ unless we tell you otherwise. Do you understand, slave?”

Jessie nodded to us, her eyes still closed. “Yes, master.”

“Very good. I am Marius. Also a Patrician, a patron of the arts here in Rome where I live.”

“What’s her name, again?” Ham asked, now fully into the role, though his voice seemed to be more Kevin Spacey from House of Cards and less Roman Senator. “I find that with so much wine and good company I cannot keep a totally clear head.”
“Valerius mostly I just call her ‘slave.’ I haven’t decided on a name. If you buy her, you get to bestow a name upon her. Any name you wish.”

“She is beautiful,” Ham said. “Where did you find her?”

“That’s a good story, Valerius. I’m glad you’ve asked.”

I had worked out the barest details in my head earlier as Ham and I sat and watched her standing as posed. I had a basic idea of where I wanted to go with all this and the dynamics I wanted to show, but I was making up a lot of the story as I went along. I continued to weave the tale as a kind of backdrop of cushion for what I wanted to demonstrate with Jessie.

“As you know, I travel with the 15th Legion on occasion. I served there as an officer in my youth and I was with them a few months ago down in the Aegean. In a remote, rebellious province of Greece the Legion was directed to restore order and arrest the renegade governor.” I started pacing again, and the story started to unfold around me as if it were laying there just waiting for me to pick it up. “This was accomplished without much effort, and the beauty here before us was the Governor’s wife, a Greek specimen of loveliness sold into slavery the moment we arrested him. I picked her up for little more than a song at the auctions immediately following our victory. Since then she’s been working in my kitchen.” I was now in front of her again. “What’s my name, slave?”

Jessie licked her lips and thought before speaking. “Marius, master.”

“And what are you?”

“A governor’s wife. Former governor’s wife,” she quickly corrected. “Captured. Now a slave girl here in your house in Rome. Master.”

“And a beauty,” I added. I reached out and touched her chin. She flinched very slightly, startled, but then leaned into my palm. I stroked her cheek and then paced around her again. “Which is most of the reason I acquired you in the first place. Have you ever seen this slave’s body, Valerius?”

“Why no, I have not,” Ham drawled, taking a sip of wine. “But I must say I do enjoy what I see so far. Maybe you should show me a little more, so I can be sure of what I’m buying?”

Let’s dial this up a little, he was saying.

Standing in front of his girlfriend, I looped my fingers under the thin straps on her shoulders. I tugged up on the straps, this having the effect of moving her breasts up and together. The jade pieces of her necklace were hanging low, and the jewelry went a little deeper into her cleavage with the movement.

The sight was a little intoxicating, and I wanted the feeling of my manipulation to let her know that I was going to be touching her in a more serious way.

I did not hear ‘Slater!’ from either one of them, and in truth I didn’t expect to. As I’ve mentioned we were all close, and I’d seen much more of Jessie’s body than this. But this context was definitely that new territory; I’d certainly never stripped her down, let alone role-played that she was my slave girl.

You could feel the sexual tension in the air, smell it like jasmine. Or musk.

“Raise your hands above your head, slave,” I said. “Cross your wrists, and hold them there until I tell you to move them.” She complied, her arms sweeping up in arcs ending with her wrists out towards us and pressed together high above her head. “With your eyes closed, I know you can feel your body more. When I’m not touching you, can you feel just our eyes on you? Can you remember what it was like to be a slave on display for a whole group of men, all the men looking to bid on you, purchase and make use of you any way they wanted? Their aching, sweaty hard cocks straining as they looked upon you…”

Jessie’s mouth opened, her lower lip out in a most alluring way as she immersed herself in what I was saying. In her head I imagined she was up there, on the block in front of a group of serious men being ogled, perhaps stripped.

I was still in front of her. I watched the expression on her face change as she slipped more and more into the role I was sketching out, and it made me smile. Her hands were still raised above her head, feet together, as if she were bound and strung up on display.

My fingers slid down her sides, traveling slowly along her sides over outside the swells of her breasts, dragging slowly over her ribs through the dress, over her hips, and as I bent down along the front of her thighs to the hem of the dress. I let her feel my fingertips on her the tops of her thighs as I reached under and grabbed hold of the hem with each hand, telegraphing with my fingers what I was about to do.

Then like unwrapping a work of art, an exquisitely rendered statue in a gallery, I pulled up and peeled the dress up from Jessie’s body. Her hands parted for a moment to accommodate the dress and she quietly gasped as I undressed her, putting her on display.

She’d pranced around in her bra and panties before, but I doubted she’d been stripped quite in this way. I imagined the cool air hitting her skin as I exposed her.

Her body was stunning. She was wearing black lace bra and matching thong, and her tan lines were now exquisitely revealed in contrast along them. Her eyes were still closed, and the swell her chest was rising and falling with her breaths, that necklace dipping slowly in her cleavage. She licked her lips again, and the sight made me pause for a moment to focus. This was all making having an effect on me as well, and Ham too I imagined. I was sure Ham was as hard as an oak tree as I put my hands on Jessie in front of him. I knew I was.

“You keep a girl such as this in the kitchen?” he asked incredulous, Spacey still in his voice.

“Yes. I’m wondering about that now,” I said as I gently lowered her arms back to her sides. “Now that I’ve started to strip her down and I’m gazing on her lovely body, I may have to rethink that. Maybe I should have been using her as a pleasure slave, Valerius. You know, putting her up against the nearest wall, having my way with her.” Ham was laughing silently at my phrasing, both of us knowing the effect the words were having on Jessie. “I wonder if she’s heated even now, having the two of us look at her body, talk about her like she’s not even here.”

“Veeeeery interesting,” he said. “I think we should check, Marius.”

Count on Ham to pour another glass, to hop another fence to a forbidden beach, or dial things up a little more.

So be it.

I paced around front, crossing my arms as I appraised her. “Well her nipples are clearly hard. Aching, probably if I had to guess. For a while, now. I feel like they’re just aching to be pinched and pulled, my friend. You can see how they swelled and stood out even under the dress. Also, now she’s got a flush to her cheeks.” I reached out and started stroking her cheeks, and then running my fingertips lightly over her neck. “Her neck is flush, and her lips are pouting out a bit more, all signs of her heat showing plainly. I think if one of us reached down between her legs we’d see she’s soaking. Are you wet, slave?” Jessie’s mouth hung open, her lips plump as she worked to keep them wet. “It seems like posing you, ogling you and talking about you like you weren’t even here is having an effect on you. See how she’s trembling a little, and her mouth is dry, Valerius?”

“Yes, I’m wet,” she answered, a bit breathless.

I looked over to Ham and smiled, then deliberately stepped around in back of her and slapped her perfect ass cheek with an open hand. ‘Crack!’

She groaned. “’Yes I’m wet…?’” I asked, leading her.

“Yes, I’m wet master,” she breathed.

“Temperamental, this one.” I smiled. “And, apparently, wet with her arousal. Slave I can’t remember from when I first inspected you; are you natural, trimmed, or bare down between your legs?”

“…I’m, I’m trimmed, Master.” Jessie’s legs moved together hearing this question, as if she were squeezing her lower lips together just a little tighter, trying to restrain something building, there.

“Hmmmmm. Usually I see to that with my female slaves, Valerius. It’s a way of marking them. Of course you could go with a brand, a piercing, or a collar of some sort, but mostly that’s how I do it, tending to their shaving myself. Assuming a kind of control over their body that’s a constant reminder they’re mine, but that’s subtle.” I turned back to her, placing my hand on her shoulder. “Open your eyes, slave.”

She did this, and with her eyes open it was like she was coming into my arms, although her body stayed perfectly posed. It shook me, momentarily. Striking.
I smiled at her.

“What were you thinking about using her for if I sold her to you Valerius?,” My words were definitely directed to him, but I held her fiery gaze as I asked, enjoying the tension drawing out and tightening. “She was a governor’s wife, after all.”

“I’d use her in the kitchen, to be sure,” my friend the Senator from South Carolina said in his drawl. “I confess I do love this shrimp. But also for my own pleasure I think. Especially if she were heated, as she so plainly seems to be.” With this he took another shrimp from the bowl and devoured it.

“Now I’m thinking about raising the price,” I joked. I looked again into her eyes, and there was a burning there, like metal finally catching fire. “I haven’t sampled her myself, But now I’m wondering how strong she is. Are you strong, slave…?”

The flame I’d seen flared brighter, and her body seemed to tighten, to slip into a higher gear. She cocked her head a little, addressing me directly. “Yes, Master.”

“Hmmm,” I said, then turned to Ham and smiled as I stepped back to the table. “We’ll see. What’s my friend’s name, again?”

“Valerius, Master.”

“And what’s my name?”

“Marius, Master.”

“Valerius my friend, for the rest of the evening would you like this slave to call you by your name, or address you as ‘master?’”

Ham took a sip and considered this, then drew a shrimp from the bowl and ate it. He let the moment linger, and I smiled.

He was learning.

“‘Master’ is just fine, Marius.”

I nodded, and then turned back to Jessie. “Slave put your arms out to the sides, straight out from your body, palms up.”

She did, her defined arms gracefully coming out perpendicular from her body and now palms up, as if in exultation. I paced around her, taking in the tight lines and curves of her tan body, displayed of us in her lacy bra and thong.

“How was life as a governor’s wife, slave?”

“Easy. Master.”

“I see. And yet you’re strong.”

“Yes Master. Greek women are known for their strength.”

“Hmmm. Is that what they’re known for? We’ll see.”

I went to the table and grabbed a fresh bottle of wine and opened it, then took the bowl of shrimp from the table into my hands as well. Ham deftly plucked one more before I carried the bowl off the table.

I then put the bowl of shrimp in one of her palms and the bottle of wine in the other so that both were seated upright on her palms. Her body formed a sort of cross, elegant and beautiful.

“Don’t spill, slave,” I said simply. “You’ve told us you were strong, and as my slave your words are an extension of me. They’d better be the truth…”

I looked into her eyes again, the challenge issued.

She reflected back more of that fire to me. I knew she took pride in her body and her fitness, and so she most likely felt up to this. I smiled, took a shrimp from the bowl she was holding and placed it to her lips. She smiled, slowly parted her lips while she watched me, and ate the shrimp, using the gesture as a way to push back against me and what I was doing, to be defiant in a sensual way.

I lingered in front of her for a moment, watching her slowly chew before turning and taking a seat next to Ham.

Those next few minutes were delicious.

Ham and I sat and studied Jessie, her form coping with the challenge and moving through it, changing before our eyes. At first it was an easy task to keep the bottle and bowl fully aloft and her arms straight out from her body, but as the moments swept by it was clear that the pose and the weight of the bottle and bowl were pressing down upon her. Before too long even though she kept the bowl and bottle straight out her breathing was tight and controlled as she blew out with her lips in a lovely, full “O.” Small beads of perspiration started to bead in her cleavage and along the flat of her tummy.

Ham was fidgeting in his seat, a bundle of energy himself in general and now more so as he watched. It was obvious he wanted to talk, to say something or do something, but he was restraining himself and being content just to watch, for now.

I admired this. And I had to admire Jessie’s body, her strength. She was like bronzed Greek statue, arms straight out, bowl and bottle upright, legs together, and although clearly expending a great deal of effort as the moments drew out she kept the bowl and wine bottle perfectly still.

At last I rose, moved and stood behind her. I noted the clock on the wall, and she’d held the objects aloft and perfectly still for more than three minutes so far. I was looking to toy with her and maybe rattle her serenity, so I traced a fingertip up from the top of her thong, loitering where her tight ass cheeks joined together in that small gap and traced up her spine slowly. I paused at her bra, as if considering popping it right there and exposing her while she was powerless to stop me. I felt a tension, a ripple in her body although she remained still, as if she were thinking about being stripped right then and there in her current condition, bared for our eyes. “Three minutes, slave. I’m impressed. Let’s go for five?”

I couldn’t see, but I’m sure her eyes darted for the clock, before closing and refocusing.

I traced up to the nape of her neck, then with my fingers threaded through her thick hair I gently but firmly gripped her, taking a handful of her mane and squeezing, bringing her head back just a little as Ham watched. Jessie gasped as I did this, the bottle wavering slightly. I whispered to her.

“I could do anything I wanted to you slave, right here. You’re on display, and completely in my power. You know we’re both thinking about taking you, making use of your tight, fit body for our own male pleasure, spilling ourselves on you, and in you, right? You know this, yes?”

Another gasp. She was panting now, and she nodded and fought for her composure.

“Two more minutes like this, slave. Are you up to it?”

Jessie groaned, and I knew even she thought even making that noise was a hint of failure. She clenched her teeth and stifled the sound almost immediately. She was coming up against her own wall inside, and was clearly determined to push through it. It was exquisite to watch her struggle, the resolve play out across her face and body.

“Can you do it? Or are you weak?”

Her breathing was measured, uncounted hours of running, Pilates, and yoga focused in these moments, on that inhale and exhale as I shook her body by her hair.

“Nnnnnnot weak, master…” she hissed.

“Valerius,” I said over her shoulder to my friend. “When you find yourself stroking a woman, you find she has ‘spots,’ yes? Places where when gently caressed it makes her wild with desire?” I let the question hang for a moment, then pressed on. “Where are some of this girl’s spots, if you had to guess…?”

Ham was seated with his legs apart and was seriously leaning towards us, eyes open fully and all in with his body language. I’m certain he was hard as a pipe in his loose board shorts. And of course he knew where his own girlfriend liked to be touched.

But would he tell me?

Or would he take the opportunity to stand up and take a more active role in the vignette? I was open to either of course, but I hoped he enjoyed the show enough to want more. I’d reward his patience and participation soon.

“Back of her neck, tops of shoulders, and along her ribs. Those would be my… guesses, Marius.” Ham said this with a wide smile, now crossing his arms over his broad chest as if in a need to restrain himself, to stay seated. Jessie groaned again out loud at the revelation. Ham had just laid bare her sensual sweet spots for me as she stood vulnerable, and I’d play at those delicious edges, the weaknesses in her armor.

I wanted to see just how strong Jessie was.

“I see,” I said, and lazily start exploring her body with my fingertips in earnest, letting her feel me touching the back of her neck and tops of her shoulders. I knew a lot of her focus was on keeping the bottle and bowl aloft, and me touching her spots was more psychological than tactical.

But it did have an effect.

Jessie was trembling slightly now, but her breathing had actually slowed, as if she was entering some other place mentally, someplace giving her solace from the brand of torment I was putting her through.

“You’re looking to run from the pain, slave, go inside yourself and hide from it,” I said lightly as I caressed her ribs, tracing all my fingertips along her tight frame while I chided her gently with my voice.

Her scent was intoxicating. I was up close but I knew Ham could catch it as well. Perspiration, heat, and a subtle musky undertone that could only be coming from between her legs.

It was exquisite.

After all this, despite the obvious serious exertion, she was indeed up to the task I’d laid before her. From behind it seemed like she and Ham had locked eyes, and she was pushing through the fog of the ordeal.

I took that opportunity to unhook her bra and pushed it forward, off the shelf of her chest and let it fall to the floor at her feet. I then yanked her thong down and it lay entwined on top of her feet. From behind I saw her pulsing definition, from calves up to her neck, while Ham was treated to a much more revealing view.

Jessie’s body was almost totally flush now, and she was panting. It felt like she might be near breaking, and I didn’t want that to happen. I made a momentary judgement, and taunted her one last time.

“Another minute?”

This time her groan came from someplace very deep inside, and her body shook with it, sweat catching the light as it rolled down her spine.

“Stay exactly like that, slave. I’m taking the bottle and bowl. Stay as you are…” I was still behind her and deftly grabbed the bottle and bowl up from her palms as she exhaled loudly. “Now drop your hands,” which she did even as I spoke, and again her body shuddered, but this time with a loud exhale and cry out. It was almost like she was cumming, her gasps and pants and tension flooding out of her all at once. Then she collapsed to her knees, unbidden.

As she had her release, I placed the items back on the table, and then stepped behind her and put my hands on her shoulders, which were warm and slick to the touch.

Again, she seemed a work of athletic art, disheveled and bare, bent over forward on her hands and knees with sweat streaming down her taut body, breasts hanging and moving with each deep breath. Her eyes were closed as she came down from her release.

“I was wondering Valerius if you wouldn’t mind helping me with this next part?”

“Not at all, my friend,” Ham said, and was on his feet immediately as if under a spring.

“Bring one of those linen napkins with you, from its ring.” He grabbed the fresh napkin and slid it out of the porcelain ring that held it. “Now please get behind her, come down and tie her wrists together, in the small of her back. Not tightly,” I said, moving in front of Jessie and kneeling down so I was eye to eye with her again as Ham drew her wrists into the small of her back. “But firm enough so that she knows she’s bound.”

I was in front of her now, holding her chin brought her head up again so I could look into her eyes and gauge her state. A small amount of perspiration ran off her nose as we held gazes. “That was ‘strength,’” I said quietly as Ham worked behind her. “Now this will be ‘control.’”

Jessie nodded meeting my eyes.

“You seem to be heated, slave.” I smiled and drew a finger from the botHam of her neck into her cleavage. I’d never touched Jessie this way before but felt in the moment I had license. Her eyes were still locked on mine as I brought my wet fingertip up to my mouth to taste her salty dew.

“Hmmmmmm,” I said, smiling. I raised my voice a little. “Definitely 8 silver, Valerius. Not 5 as we originally discussed.”

Ham was done binding her with the linen table napkin and now stood alongside of me. I looked up at him. “We’re going to see if a governor’s wife knows how to please a man. Valerius. If you would step right here?” I directed in front of her kneeling form as I moved to the side, and then Ham was standing directly in front of his girlfriend, nude and already well spent, on her knees with her wrists bound up in the small of her back by a napkin off the table we’d used at pau hana.

“Slave,” I said firmly, “ask permission to suck his cock. Don’t disappoint me, girl.”

Jessie was looking up at Ham, dazed but with a lust in her eyes.

“Master… may I suck your thick cock?”

With a simple gesture, Ham then stepped fully into the role I’d sketched out for him during vignette. With one hand he fished his cock out of his board shorts, letting it wave majestically inches from Jessie’s mouth. He put his hand on the top of her head, turning it slightly to the side before caressing her cheek. “Beg for it, slave,” he said. “Show me how badly you want it.”

Immediately Jessie pushed her face forward, driving her face into Ham and inhaling his scent as deeply as she could, as if it had been weeks since she had experienced anything like it. She rubbed her face over his solid erection, her mouth open and lips grazing across it as she worshiped his exposure with her whole face.

I was now standing behind her, at a level with Ham and we exchanged looks, speaking without words as friends who’d known each other a long time. His look and big smile said something like ‘ho-ly shit’ while my nod in return said ‘thanks for your trust.’

Now while Ham held her head he also gripped the base of his cock and rubbed it on Jessie’s face, batting her and teasing her lips and tongue. “Please, Master… please…” she groaned. Then he fed it to her, and inches disappeared in her mouth as she made a whimpering, satisfied noise and started sucking on him as if for nourishment.

I was almost content to watch. Almost.

But I thought I’d dial things up a little. I knelt down behind Jessie and put my hands on her wrists just above the napkin-tie. I wasn’t gripping her tightly, just letting her feel my hands there, as if I was the one binding her.

“You know I’m watching this slave,” I said to her as her head bobbed up and down, lips wrapped around Ham’s girth. “I can see everything. All this time in my kitchen, and I never did this to you. I’m starting to regret it; it looks like you’re an amazing cock sucker, like you put your whole body and soul into pleasing someone. Did you ever suck off the governor? Or maybe his guards? No? I’m sure he treated you like a queen, didn’t he? Well, we’re definitely not going to treat you like a queen, slave.”

Both of Ham’s hands were on Jessie’s head now, guiding her onto his cock and taking the pleasure from her mouth. He was starting to moan, feeling her tongue and wet mouth working magic on him. She was being loud, making slurping and gagging sounds as Ham used her mouth in front of me, being very sloppy in her work. She licked up and down along his length when he pulled his slick cock out of her throat, running her tongue all over him and then up and underneath, delving with earnest into his balls, worshiping his whole package with her mouth, her whole body in a way.

He and I were working her over together, Ham with his hands and his cock, me with my hands and my voice, penetrating her, driving her further to a heated place.
“I want Valerius’s cum in your mouth and on your face in 60 seconds, slave. Do it! Make it happen!” I placed one hand on the back of her neck, letting her feel it there and the other on her bound wrists where her fingers wrapped with mine. I kept up in her ear as she sucked.

“You’re just a toy, existing in this moment just for our pleasure. I can hear you groan and gag, girl. I know your body is on fire as you’re serving him, and listening to me talk about it. Talk about your hot little slave mouth servicing a distinguished Senator, while your owner considered selling you to him. Do you want to be owned by him, girl? Do you want to work in his kitchen, suck his cock whenever he wants you to, let him use you for his own pleasure? You’d better make him cum, slave… or no sale.”

This threw the switch, my cadence of dirty talk, my hands on her, Ham’s hands on her, being tied and made to kneel in front of both of us and service a very thick, aching cock. It all built up in her already-primed body and mind, and with that head of steam she worked oral magic on her boyfriend.

Sensations and sounds, her whole body participated in what she was doing. Jessie threw herself into that blowjob, and it was a work of performance art to witness. It had me aching in my own shorts as I watched, had my hands on her. I could see Ham drawing close, his legs tightening and the muscles tensing into bands of steel right before that golden moment.

All at once, Ham crossed that threshold, moving forward in an explosion that seemed to emanate from his whole body and into Jessie’s mouth.

She had all of it from him, quite a bit. Ham’s fists were tight in her hair and he groaned as he came, spurt after spurt, most of it going right in her mouth but some on her face. I backed up, to give them room.

It was amazing to see, to watch.

Moments pulsed on, then last Ham finished, let go of Jessie’s hair, and stepped back a few feet. A strand of cum dangled from the tip of his cock to her lips before it broke and she rocked forward, still on her knees but bent lower, as if out of breath, hands still tied in the small of her back. I looked to Ham, who gave a thumbs up as he started laughing in a good natured way, filling the room with it. He was still reeling from his release and what had just happened.

I gave Ham a nod, and then moved alongside Jessie down on one knee. I reached around and gripping the napkin and I freed her hands. Her arms dropped forward and she supported herself with her palms flat, taking in deep breaths.

“Sold,” she said, simply, between gasps. Admission, understanding, and victory, all in one word.

She looked up at me, through a messy face. Makeup mussed, tear tracks and saliva all over, gobs of cum here and there. I gently took her chin once more and moved her head back and forth, looking at her, and she watching me as I did so.

“Slater,” I said in a soft tone of voice, and then started to wipe her face gently off with the napkin.

She smiled, and let me tend to her.

“My hands are shaking,” she said, looking at me and Ham and laughing.

“That’s part of it.” I said to both of them. “You touched a different kind of headspace there, for a few moments. It affects you.” I finished my wiping. Her face was still a mess, but at least it wasn’t dripping. “Tell me this,” I said as I stood, still looking down at her, “did you feel strong?”

She smiled and nodded as she rocked back on her heels, still on her knees. “Definitely. That was all pretty intense, and I felt challenged, and I pushed through it.”

I nodded. “And did you feel like you had power, over Hamilton?”

She thought a moment, her eyes moving about the room as she slowly stood, still gloriously naked. “I did. I always do, in that kind of situation, but this time I had more. And more over myself and the situation. It’s hard to explain.”

“You were down on your knees,” I chided as I sat on my heels at her level, the napkin rolled in my hands. “Hands tied around your back. How could you have power?” I asked.

I knew the answer, but I wanted to see if she could get there. I handed her the napkin, and Ham came over with her glass of wine. She thought as she wiped and sipped, clearly comfortable in her nudity in front of the two of us given what had just happened.

“I had control of his body,” she said, “his pleasure, his world for those moments. Even though I was being ordered, even though I was bound, and could only use some of my body. I still had that control. And ‘fuck!’ am I horny now… my pussy’s on fire!.” she added, laughing.

“Ooooooh yes,” Ham said, laughing as well. “That was veeeeery interesting,” he said, his hands on his hips. He was still hanging out of his board shorts, a little deflated but still impressive. We all laughed, noticing at the same time. He did nothing to recover himself.

Typical Ham.

“I think it’s my turn now,” he said with a sip. “To admit to a turn on, I mean…”

Jessie and I nodded, rising and standing there in the kitchen and waiting for it.

“Parker,” he said in his full-on Kevin Spacey voice as he put his hand on my shoulder. “I’m gonna need your help with this one. First, whaddya say maybe we clear that wall over there off? Jessie’s going to need the space. And we might need some candles…”