Here we were, five frustrated women and a pulsing cock trying to free itself by drilling a hole in my pants.
I went for a walk, down to Nice, in order to calm myself. I didn’t take the road; instead I followed a small path going through my neighbor’s gardens. (You have to recall that my house, like my neighbors’ ones, were in a huge park that was divided into smaller lands. To somehow keep the integrity of the park, the architect designed a path that ran through all the small lands without interfering with the houses. Therefore you could walk without being seen and without seeing anyone.) During my journey I was thinking about the last events. We’d reached such a peak within only five days that I wondered if I could continue to hold it for four years.
At the end of the park, I reached the road exactly in front of a small mansion that looked like a residential hotel for retired people. You could retire there, no doubt, but you needed money, as it was a brothel. I’m not an addict to prostitutes but the madam who handled the business had the nose to find cute girls. At the time of my walk, she had a real blond California girl with such an accent in French that it was hard to stop pouring your pre-cum fluids into your briefs.
I needed to calm down. Virginia did a good job. Intuitively she knew that I was horny as hell (or maybe it was the bulge in my pants). She dropped to her knees, opened my pants and took my dick into her mouth. She was the best cocksucker I’d ever met. She must be because it’s not really something I can stand. I’ve to tell you why because it is normally an act that men would die for. Here is the story:
It happened nearly thirty years ago. I was tramping around the world when I met a Scottish man who became one of my best friends. His name was William and he was currently one of my neighbors here in Nice. William had one peculiarity: he was a stallion. By that I mean he had two brains, one above his belt like a normal human being and a smaller one under his belt. Therefore he could fuck a woman and at the same time have a philosophical discussion about the best way to do it, like there was absolutely no relation between his dick and his head. We were spending time in Thailand once with two girls doing their sucking job between our respective legs when he started to tell me a joke: "A British mercenary traveling in Africa arrives late in the evening into a small Congo village. He meets the head of the village who happened to be his roommate in high school. They hug each other then go to the Chief’s house and start drinking and reviewing what they did when they were younger. Like two cocks they are talking about how courageous they were when the British guy takes his gun, opens the barrel, removes five of the six bullets, closes the barrel and spins it. He holds the gun to the chief and proposes a Russian roulette game. The chief takes the gun. CLICK, grinning he gives it backs to the British guy. CLICK again. They both laugh, happy that no one was killed. But still they don’t know who the most courageous one is. The village chief proposes then to a startled British guy that they play a Congo roulette game. They go to a small building where six stunning naked black women are kneeling in an arc. The village chief asks the mercenary to drop his pants and choose one of the girls to get a blowjob. The British guy retorts that he doesn’t see what kind of courage is needed to get a blowjob from one of these magnificent women but he is definitely eager to get one. The village chief says to six ear-to-ear grinning girls that Congo roulette is a roulette and therefore one of the girls is cannibal!"
Unlike William I have only one brain. You can now just imagine how much concentration I need to get a blowjob. I’m marked for life!
Anyway, drained and calmed by a skillful Virginia, I started to climb back up the hill to my house. Still thinking about the past events with Nadine, I went through Amandine’s place. My thoughts strayed to Amandine’s authority and Nadine’s submissiveness in front of her. Something was wrong. I had to ask Amandine about it.
She was on her terrace enjoying the sunset. None of her daughters were around. I asked her if I could stop by and chat a bit with her. I was welcomed.
I didn’t know where to begin so I stayed quiet. With a woman you don’t have to wait long before she breaks the silence.
"Michel you’re wondering why Nadine obeyed me, aren’t you?"
I interrogatively raised an eyebrow.
"I’ve known Nadine for a long time now. In fact I’ve known her mother for a long time"
She glanced uneasy at me. I focused on the sunset.
"I’ve spent a lot of time with her mother. I’ve nearly seen Nadine growing."
I didn’t have to do anything because she would get to the point by herself without any help. It is an advantage to be a strong dominant, you just have to look at others and they always start to explain themselves like they have to justify your presence.
"Michel, I was a pony girl at eighteen but Nadine doesn’t know it. I was bought by the man who became my husband and I was trained by Nadine’s mother. After my four years as a pony girl I was a wreck, Nadine’s mother took me to her home and helped me to settle again. After nearly a year of her motherly care, I was able to talk again and started to heal from my predicament. From my experience, Emilie and Nadine’s mother have built a recovery process for the future pony girls. Nadine considered me like an older sister and we have developed a very strong relationship that lasted until I was able to look straight into the eyes of my past owner and discovered that he strongly loved me. I then left Nadine’s home and ten years and four children later I became a widow."
She was upset so I took her hand and stroked it gently.
"Thank you for telling me your secret. I will keep it for me only. But it does not explain why she is so submissive when facing you."
"The recovery process which was experimentally applied to me was based on a reverse relation. As I was a submissive during four years the general idea was to develop my dominant part. Nadine was a naughty but shy little girl, her mother forced me to be part of her education in order to correct and take care of her behavior. After a month I was the one who had to punish her when needed. But I was also her confidant and after a year I was her replacement mother. When I left to get married, Nadine felt abandoned and started to regress and to develop a shell to protect herself from others and from her emotions. I think that she still loves me but she is also afraid to renew our intimacy."
"Amandine it must have been a shock when you discovered that Nadine was your neighbor."
"Not really because Emilie called me to explain what you wanted to do and asked me if I could think of a better way to bring back the Nadine we all knew. In agreement with Nadine’s mother we have let you have her to see if you could break the shell she has built. Don’t get me wrong Michel, but during the last seventeen years we have tried a lot of things to make her heal, even asking her to be the pony’s trainer supervisor, but nothing has worked. Somehow you’re her last chance! If you want me to help I’m of course ready to embarrass her at the maximum (the last sentence was said with a grin, the kinky woman was back)."
I’d been manipulated (I know you will say that it is always the case with smart women), and in addition my fantasy is no longer just a fantasy it now was a wholesome mission.
It’s an understatement to say that I was puzzled when leaving Amandine.
That night’s dinner was uneventful except for a very red butt walking around me.
Independently of what Amandine told me about Nadine, I could see during the next two weeks that Nadine was still a real bitch, shell or not.
She was shocked because she had been bought. During the month she was clothed and playing the bitch with my three maids she had absolutely no idea what was in store for her. She was close to dying when her enforced nudity predicament hit her. She was smart and clever and she took only a week to accommodate "fully" to her nudity. When I say "fully" it doesn’t mean that she was not embarrassed or humiliated. She was just squaring her shoulders and moving like her nudity did not affect her. But she was impacted.
After a week she resumed talking to my maids with a commanding tone, but when she was acting like that, my wise maids just kept staring at her protruding nipples or her wet pussy, which of course made Nadine blush and whisper.
It was exactly three weeks after Nadine stripped, when I saw Nadine and Joëlle in a loud discussion. Nadine was complaining, knowing that I was behind her, that Joëlle was lazy and always trying to do things in order to make me punish her. (She was punished only once during the three weeks! The bitch is fully back.) Nadine was definitely underestimating the strength of my relationship with Joëlle. Joëlle again had this strange look. Nadine was very close to trouble.
It happened after the breakfast exercises (I was in a good mood) when a perspiring Nadine was going to her bathroom not noticing Joëlle on her heels.
Knowing my Joëlle I followed their tracks. When I arrived at the bathroom Nadine was already seated on her toilet with Joëlle facing her.
An enraged Nadine was politely asking Joëlle to move and let her do her business alone.
Joëlle stayed and so did I. Nature took over, and soon a beet red Nadine was defecating in front of us.
"Nadine, I think that to act like you were acting with me in front of Michel, you must be very dirty inside. Now I want to make sure that you clean yourself properly. Maybe being cleaned inside you will learn to talk nicer."
Not letting Nadine wipe herself, Joëlle carried her to the shower stall and literally threw her inside while opening the shower at full blast. Nadine was suffocating under the strength of the stream when Joëlle produced a long bottlebrush with a heavy handle.
A crying and fearful Nadine was trying to protect her skin from the brush assault but she was soon red and sobbing, seated on the stall floor under the shower.
"Now that I’ve cleaned you outside I want you to do your three holes!"
Nadine was pleading asking for mercy from a sadistic Joëlle. No way, Joëlle would not let her go and I wasn’t about to interfere.
After some useless bargaining Nadine started to brush her teeth with the bottlebrush.
"You should do it more convincingly or I’ll do it myself!"
A still sobbing Nadine was doing her best when Joëlle asked her to clean her ass.
Again there was some useless bargaining while Joëlle poured the shampoo onto the bottlebrush to act as a lubricant.
Joëlle took Nadine’s mane in one hand, forcing her to bend over with her ass high in the air. With her other hand she forced Nadine’s hand (the one handling the bottlebrush) to beat her own ass with the brush handle (something like a self-spanking).
Nadine was now screaming and soon my two other maids came wandering in to see what was happening.
It didn’t take long for an ashamed Nadine to fuck her asshole with the bottlebrush.
Because she was not getting enough of the brush inside her hole, Joëlle kept slapping her butt with her skirt belt.
Joëlle asked her to get the brush out in order to clean it under the shower and then poured some more shampoo over the brush for another round.
Ten rounds later with a bright-cleaned bottlebrush, looking like a new one, Joëlle authorized Nadine to do her last hole.
I left the bathroom when a defeated Nadine was reaching her climax while masturbating with a bottlebrush in front of my maids.
Nadine was still a nice shade of rose when we had our lunch together.
Close to bursting into tears, fingers clenched to make fists, she was a wreck.
I helped her to sit and started massaging her neck and shoulders to help her to relax.
"Nadine, what you tried to do to Joëlle was stupid. You’re a smart girl and I don’t understand why you’re trying to make an enemy of Joëlle. She is certainly the best one here to help you to go through your ordeal. Therefore your aim should be to become friends with her. I strongly advise you to not try any revenge, because she is definitely stronger than you and the best you could do right now is to apologize and ask for her pardon."
I let the words sink into her brain.
At the word pardon she was bent like a bow close to rupture. But the massage was doing well and within ten minutes she was less tense and started to breathe more quietly.
She turned her head quietly and with teary eyes she stared directly into mine, trying to guess what I had in my mind.
She must have read peace, because she was soon running to the kitchen, Joëlle’s territory, to beg her pardon while kneeling.
Joëlle was soft-hearted, without a hint of nastiness, and soon two crying women were hugging each other.
Nadine was too upset to eat, thus I had a very lonely but peaceful lunch.
I didn’t think that the shell was broken, but it was a good start and that night I would enforce it.
After dinner I told a puzzled Nadine to get ready with her shoes because we were going out.
She had to ask Nicole to get her some shoes and a mischievous Nicole brought killer black patent high heels with straps everywhere.
Nadine wasn’t walking to the car...she was swaying like a boat in a storm.
I opened the passenger door, helped her get seated, and then climbed into my seat.
Nadine was fishing for information from a mute driver (myself) and squeezed herself progressively into her leather seat when we reached the well-lighted streets of Nice.
She was looking worryingly at me when I parked the car in a dead end road in downtown Nice.
There were a few people coming out of a pub when I opened her door. I knew the place well enough to be sure that no cops would bother us and a naked girl would certainly attract attention from the passerby but not enough to make a fuss on the street.
My fully naked Nadine was clutching my arm like a lifebuoy and she blushed when hearing the lusty comments of the men seated at the bar’s terrace.
Looking at her feet in order to avoid the gaze of the men, she didn’t see the sign hanging above the door when we entered the shop.
"Nadine, left or right?"
She was fully embarrassed and blushing from head to toes under the appreciative gaze of the shop owner, Adrien, when she replied, "W-hat le-eft or ri-ight?"
"Just left or right?"
She was still hooked at my arm when she whispered, "left."
Adrien helped a demure Nadine lay on her back on a small bench. The bench was too short for her, therefore only her upper body was lying on the bench and her legs were resting slightly apart on the floor at the end of the bench.
Adrien was securing her waist to the bench with a large leather belt and soon her ankles were cuffed and hooked widely apart to D-rings protruding from the floor giving us a full view of her lovely pink tunnel and the brown rosebud of her ass.
Nadine was panicking when Adrien gagged her with a spongy ball and a leather strap. I held her arms out of reach.
"Nadine you know that the first part of your sentence (five weeks) is ending in two weeks. I want you to have something to remember this date, something that will be a milestone in your sentence. Adrien will now pierce your left labia and the gold ring you will wear in two weeks from now will be this milestone."
Adrien was trimming her bikini bush to almost nothing before shaving her. Her protruding clit was teasing us and I could not resist rubbing it gently. She closed her eyes, moaning, a blush arising on her breasts, when abruptly a muffled scream escaped her gagged mouth. Adrien had punched a hole into the middle of her left labia. He cleaned the blood droplets before pouring some antiseptic gel into the hole and securing a barbell into it.
I continued to gently rub her clit and now with the back of my other hand I stroked her right labia while entering one finger into her already wet and hot pussy. She put her hands on mine and guided me to giving her a mild orgasm.
She was resting peacefully while Adrien unbuckled her. Her smile of contentment was progressively vanishing. Her labia were fully engorged and the piercing must have been a hell of a pain. I helped her stand, still wobbling, and she swayed back to the car but this time more like a penguin.