Master Drake and my own Master Burch were old friends, but I had never met Drake’s girl Dyl before that night at the Gag & Fetter.  The "G&F" is a nightclub for B&D types, very exclusive, and Master Burch likes to take me there when he decides I’ve been an especially good girl.  So we showed up at the door about ten o’clock that evening with him in his workout togs and me in an ordinary street dress.

Under my dress, of course, I was already in restraint.  Earlier, Burch had made me put on my fanciest corselet, and then laced it in to really demanding constriction so that it gave me a true hourglass silhouette and limited me to shallow, rapid breaths.  And after he had attached my body strap to it, I was panting with excitement mostly because the clit-cup that he had fastened on it (in just the right place) can be so deliciously exciting when he tightens the strap.  Every step I take is a new thrill when I’m wearing it. 

In addition, he had locked a pair of leg-irons on me just above my knees and linked them with a short, strong rubber hitch.  It didn’t show through my heavy skirt, of course, but the hobble limited me quite effectively to quick, respectful steps.  The stiletto heels I was wearing didn’t help, either.

Of course I wore my stainless steel collar and some heavy iron wristlets too, but for the moment they went unused.  Oh, and I wasn’t allowed to wear a bra.  That was just as well, for I knew Burch would be at my breasts before long.  I’m lucky that my bosoms, full as they are, don’t really need support and I guess Master is happy about that too.  Lord knows he pays enough attention to them...and Lord knows I enjoy it!

As soon as we were inside the club, Master locked my wristlets together behind me, securing my hands immovably palm to palm so that I could no longer use them.  While he was doing this, the club’s owner Madam Tor looked me over carefully and nodded her approval.  I’ve heard that she was a first-class Dom.  Well, if she kept looking at me like that, she might well ask Master to loan me to her for a week or so.  She’s done that with other girls, I know.  I hoped she would borrow me some day... it would be an interesting change.

Master Drake soon appeared from the "dressing room" with a truly buxom blonde following him on a collar-leash.  The two men greeted each other warmly, and I learned that they had reserved a table for four.  The blonde and I looked at each other curiously. 

She was already nude except for a special bra, a snug spandex corselet to which a pebbled rubber body strap was attached, and her bondage, so she couldn’t have arrived this way; I figured she must have been put into this outfit just a moment ago.  She was wearing a short hobble between her ankle cuffs and her arms were in a real fix: each one had been sharply doubled inside a tight-laced shortglove, and now they were stretched out along a steel rod across her shoulders like a pair of stiff wings.

I was really impressed by the open-tipped bra cups that she was wearing.  They were made of slender thongs to create what’s called a "squeeze-bra," and it was obvious that Master Drake had tightened each one to give her breasts maximum display.  This way hers were even more impressive than mine.

"Hi, Burch, hello Gyn," Master Drake said.  "This is Dyl -- my new girl."

"Nice to meet you, Dyl," Master Burch responded.  "Then I guess Gyn must be my ‘old’ girl, since she’s been with me for almost a year now."  He paused and then added, "But I haven’t been bored a bit -- and I don’t think she has been either!"

I nodded happily in agreement with him and said, "Hi, Dyl."  She said Hi back to me.

Then the four of us were ushered to a table close to the small stage.  The waitress, a shapely little slavegirl clad only in straps and chains, pulled chairs out for the men with her manacled hands.  Before they sat down, though, Master Burch unzipped the front of my dress and told me to step out of it, leaving me wearing only my B&D equipment.  He put the dress in his bag.

"Shall we let the ladies get acquainted?" Master Drake asked cheerfully.  "But of course!" Master Burch answered.  Naturally, Dyl and I were curious about what they intended.  We found out right away.

While Master Burch freed my wrists, Master Drake made sure that Dyl’s arms were still lashed securely along her shoulder-rod.  Then, while Master Drake rummaged in his heavy attaché case for some new items, Master Burch undid my thigh-hobble and replaced it with a pair of ankle cuffs linked by twelve inches of heavy chain. 

The next step was to bring me and Dyl face to face so that Master Drake could lock a short chain between the fronts of our corselets.  Now we would have to get acquainted! 

But there was more.  Master Burch pulled my arms around Dyl’s sides and locked my wristlets together behind her so that my hands hung down even with her buns.  This forced us even closer... I could feel our nipples brush against each other.  Both of us sighed with pleasure. 

I couldn’t resist the temptation to reach down and stroke her fanny; she returned the favor by arching her chest and twisting her shoulders so that her nipples rubbed against mine with marvelous pressure.  Then, instinctively, we began to push our hips against each other.  Before long, I took advantage of our closeness to tilt my head and plant a kiss in the hollow of Dyl’s neck. 

"Ooohh," she murmured softly. 

"Yumm," I answered.  "You’ve got a wonderful body, you know that?"

Her response was to lift one knee as high as her hobble would allow, pressing it urgently up between my thighs. 

"Ooh... yessss," I whispered.  I grabbed more firmly at her hot, rounded ass cheeks.  She shivered with excitement.  I dug my fingernails in and pulled her even closer.  Our throaty hums of pleasure grew louder. 

It wasn’t long until we were writhing energetically together, each of us enjoying the heat of the other’s torso and sharing some serious deep kisses.  She was just a bit taller than me, so I was happy to lean back and let her take the aggressive role.  At the same time I could feel her hot, stiff nipples trying to bore holes in my breasts; her aggressive movements assured me that she was enjoying the sensation as much as I was.

A moment later, we had figured out how each of us could lift one thigh up into the other’s crotch.  The maneuver left each of us balanced rather precariously on just one foot, but that only made the situation more exciting.  I reached down as far as I could, trying to get my fingers between her buns.  She nibbled appreciatively at my lips and tongue.

Our Masters looked on with amusement.  "Do you think they’re getting a teensy bit excited?" Master Drake asked. 

"Maybe a tad," Master Burch chuckled.  "But I’m not sure it would be a good idea to have them climax so early in the evening!"

Dyl’s knee was making my body strap do lovely things between my legs, especially since her movements were making the clit-cup extra-active.  I shivered with excitement and pulled her as close as I could.  The warmth of her body was heavenly!

Then I leaned back from her as far as I could, ducked my head, and took one of her thick, throbbing nipples between my lips.  I sucked eagerly at it, nipping with my teeth and at the same time lashing it fiercely with my tongue.  I loved its faintly salty taste.

Dyl’s murmur of pleasure grew into a squeal of joy.  Then I shoved my hips against hers, greedy for more pressure on my clit-cup.  She knew what I wanted and raised her thigh higher so she could work it back and forth between my thighs.  Incredible!

But our mutual stimulation was becoming more than our Masters thought we deserved just now.  Thus, despite our disappointed moans, Master Burch freed my wrists so that the two men could pull us apart and unlock the chain between our corselets.  My eyes met Dyl’s and we exchanged a silent promise of more pleasure later on, just as soon as our masters let us get together again.

Then Master Drake made Dyl kneel beside the table so that he could free her arms from the cross-rod.  She moved her sheath-doubled arms gingerly, but then had to hold still while he ran a strap through the rings set at her elbows and drew them together in the center of her back.  In a moment he had them secured there.  The tension on her shoulders was obviously painful and she groaned at the stress.

This arm-bondage naturally forced her breasts out brazenly in front of her, and suddenly he produced a pair of nipple-cones which he fastened snugly over the tips of her tautly-molded bosoms.  She had to bite her lip to keep from crying out.  A moment later, he had snapped a forked leash to the cones and was jerking up on it gently while he ordered her to her feet.  Her grunt of agony made clear just how effective the new devices were.

While this was going on, my own Master was planning more discomfort for me.  Because my breasts had been tunneled last year, he did not need to use nipple-cones.  Instead, he got a pair of silver D-rings from his bag and began to fit them through the holes that the surgeon had bored horizontally through my bosoms, deep behind my nipples.  The feeling of those silver rods sliding into my flesh was indescribably exciting.  I hissed between my teeth.

As soon as they were properly in place and locked, I was ready to become the quivering victim of whoever might hold a leash fastened to them.  I was also growing more aroused, since the rings do fantastic things to my breasts.  Then he tied a strap between the two rings and hooked a leash over the strap.  I couldn’t hold back a moan of anxious excitement.

Master Burch ignored my gratitude and pulled steadily on the leash.  I followed it, of course, until I stood face to face with him.  He smiled into my teary eyes while his hands cupped my breasts and his thumbs stroked my nipples with exquisite tenderness.  I murmured my appreciation.  But then he exerted a steady downward tension on the leash, forcing me to my knees.

"Your tits will look even better when I fasten your arms the way Dyl’s are fixed," he told me cheerfully.  I obediently leaned forward to let him lock a cuff about each arm just above the elbow.  Then he ran a strap through their connector rings and tightened it until my elbows were jammed harshly together in the center of my back. 

Since my wrists were still fettered, this meant that my forearms hung straight down the center of my back.  My low, drawn-out gasp indicated just how much discomfort this caused.  But my breasts were forced up and outward, producing the effect Jason wanted, and that was all that mattered.

Another tug at my leash brought me scrambling frantically to my feet again.

"Let’s get a drink," Master Burch suggested.  I followed him clumsily, my ankles smarting from the way the hobble snubbed them at each step, and soon we were at the bar.  Despite my own plight, I was intrigued by the outfit that the girl tending bar had on.  She was in an awful fix!

First of all, her wristlets were linked in front of her by a six-inch chain.  In addition, there were two short chains connecting them to cones tightened over the tips of her deep, bare breasts.  One chain connected her right wrist to her left breast, and vice-versa.  The arrangement gave her barely enough freedom to do her work.  There was also another chain from the center of her wrist-chain to her collar, and one more that ran back between her thighs. 

This complicated setup insured that she couldn’t reach very far up or down or out in front of her body, and yet whenever she had to mix a drink she was required to reach every bit as far as her chains would allow.

Second, she wore a pair of glossy leather boots with skyscraper heels, laced to skin-tightness all the way up to her crotch, and a heavy six-inch chain between her ankle cuffs.  Moving to get the bottles needed for a particular drink was thus a constant challenge.

Third, the poor thing was equipped with a hard-rubber dildo gag that stretched her jaws wide apart.  Not only did it extend far back into her throat, it also stuck out about four inches in front of her lips.  And it added to her predicament in another way: from a ring set at the forward end of the gag there was a chain running up to a pulley over the bar, and anyone who needed her services had only to jerk on the ring hanging down from the pulley to get her prompt attention. 

Completing the poor girl’s bondage was a final chain that ran from the back of her corselet up to the chief bartender’s seat high behind the bar.  From there, he could monitor her work and, whenever necessary, give a corrective jerk at her tether.  It wasn’t long before I could see that such a jerk would tighten the strap between her legs, producing a painful pressure there and obviously encouraging her to work more diligently. 

The girl’s expression showed how distressed she was.  Master Burch yanked at her "attention-chain," wrenching her head up suddenly.  She turned to him immediately and he told her he wanted a particularly complicated drink.  Moist-eyed, she nodded and went to work.  It obviously pained her to reach up for the bottle of aqua vita, and again when she had to lean down to get something else, so my Master got as much pleasure from watching her mix the concoction as he did from the drink itself.

Poor thing!  After she had completed the drink and was putting it on the bar in front of Master Burch, it accidentally slopped over a bit.  For this, her boss growled and rewarded her with a sharp disciplinary yank on her tether.  Her nasal grunt of pain made it clear that she had received the message.

Then we returned to our table, where I found Dyl now seated astride a special U-seat that the club made available for slavegirls.  It was simply a thick U-shaped bar, about eight inches deep, set atop a pedestal.  The "guest" merely seated herself down in the U, which could be raised or lowered to suit her Master’s fancy. 

Master Drake had left it at a reasonable height, but he had pulled her hobble up to be snagged over a hook at the back, bending her knees so that her weight was supported entirely by the bar.  He had also strapped her thighs to the supporting post so that she could not tip sideways.  I knew that the pressure in her groin must be excruciating---but it was obvious that she found it stimulating as well.  She was wriggling intently astride her new seat.

I was not surprised, then, when the shackled waitress brought another U-seat for me.  Master Burch made me sit down in it and then unlocked my ankle chain so that I could fold my legs Indian-style in front of the supporting post.  This forced me to spread my thighs apart and naturally increased the bar’s pressure on my body strap.  I stiffened at the mildly painful (but at the same time definitely exciting) way my clit-cup attacked me; I was hardly aware that he was strapping my legs in a strenuous lotus position. 

Then he strapped my wrists at the rear of the U-seat to immobilize me entirely.  Even if he tugged hard at my breast-leash, I wouldn’t be able to move an inch!

Drake ordered drinks for Burch and for us girls (just club soda for Dyl and me, of course) and after they came, we girls could only sit there in our U-seated misery while our Masters gave us an occasional drink and spent most of their time watching the other customers.  Once in a while they had to twitch at our leashes to get our attention, but otherwise we were left pretty much alone to savor our bizarre circumstances.

We all stared at one Master who came in with two slavegirls who had been carefully and intricately twinned.  They were fixed side-by-side with their inner legs strapped tightly together from crotch down to ankle and with each girl’s inner arm pulled around the other’s back so it could be locked at the far side of her corselet.  Their "outside" arms were pulled back behind them with their wrists chained together, and of course their "outside" legs were closely hobbled to their paired ankles.

Each was fitted with a dildo-gag that had been fastened to a single crosspiece so that their gags were connected to make a kind of yoke.  Their leash was fixed to the center of the crosspiece and seemed to serve very well to guide them.  The girls’ breasts were squeezed into snug bra-cups of wide-woven thongs, shaping them seductively.  I noted that they moved well together, probably the result of much previous experience with this sort of bondage.

Then another Master came in.  His companion was on her hands and knees, confined to a clumsy crawl by the taut-laced thigh-sheaths within which her legs were acutely doubled.  A pair of strong steel "no-bends" were fitted over her elbows to hold her arms rigid, and her hands were imprisoned inside padded mitts that made her fingers useless.  I was happy to see that the knees of the sheaths were well padded, even though the ripe-figured redhead still had to struggle to keep up with the steady pull at her nose-ring leash.  She probably would have made more noise, but she was also wearing a tongue-clamp that filled her mouth and effectively muffled her sounds of discomfort.

When they reached their table, her Master made her kneel beside him, knees wide apart, while he strapped her wrists firmly behind her.  Because of the no-bends, this arrangement made her magnificent bare breasts stand out in inviting display.  Before long, his casual attention to her nipples had them thick and stiff with excitement and she was writhing with excitement.  A while later, I saw him massaging some sort of paste over the tips of her bosoms and guessed that it was some sort of itching-crème.  The way she began to shudder and then to squeal through her gag confirmed my suspicion.

After our Masters had finished their drinks, they agreed that Dyl and I ought to provide more entertainment.  Our U-seats already had us pretty well aroused, so we were pleased to attract their attention again.  Before long, we had been freed from the seats and were standing face to face once more.  We stared into each other’s eyes with happy anticipation.

This time, though, Master Drake suggested that we should be fastened astride a crotch-pole that was fitted with twin dildoes.  Dyl and I rolled our eyes in nervous anticipation.  Drake signaled to the waitress and told her to bring the "teeter-totter."  She fetched it immediately, and we looked at it with horrified curiosity.  The device was a thick wooden rod about four feet long that had a wickedly thick hard-rubber dildo at each end that stuck up about six inches.  Dyl and I moaned in unison.  Not nearly long enough!

Our body straps were soon removed and we were turned to stand facing away from each other.  While my Master worked on me, Master Drake took care of Dyl.  They worked the pole up between our legs, positioning the dildoes properly, and we were instructed to "loosen up" so that the short, thick rods could make proper penetration.  Both of us were damp enough already from the U-seats’ stimulation, so the insertion was quite easy.

Actually, I grunted with pleasure as the enormous thing began to slide upward into my puss.  I rolled my hips gingerly to assist the operation, and gasped as its width began to stretch me.  I could hear Dyl making the same sorts of noises. 

When at last the dildo’s full length was buried in my sex, I stiffened and sighed with pleasure.  The pressure of its flared base on my clit assured me that it could go no deeper much as I wished that it could!

Then our Masters secured the pole in place with straps pulled up to our corselets, both front and rear, so that we were firmly anchored together, even though we couldn’t see each other.  It was clear that when one of us moved, the other would know of it instantly. 

The messages we sent each other were heavenly!

With our arms still bound sternly behind us and our ankles hobbled, we were quite unable to escape our predicament.  We had little idea, however, just how much excitement the apparatus would be able to arouse.

Our Masters agreed that we should first bow, just to determine how the twin dildoes would affect us.  So they took our breast-leashes and began to exert downward tension on them.  As I leaned forward from my hips, I could feel the thing in my puss dig deeper, making its presence both more demanding and more exciting.  Dyl must have experienced the same thing, for her short, explosive gasp matched mine.

Then we were told to stand erect again.  This naturally produced more stimulation from the great rubber dick filling my loins, and I clenched my ass cheeks in response.  I took a deep breath at the same time, raising my breasts, and Master Burch rewarded each with a loving caress.  I wriggled with pleasure, inadvertently sending an erotic message to Dyl via our mutual toy. She responded with her own energetic hip movement. 

This gave us the same idea, and we began to rotate our hips vigorously.  Soon we had worked out a rhythm in which first I and then Dyl gave an energetic hip-thrust, letting us work back and forth like a couple of guys sawing wood.  Each bump-and-grind gave our dildoes a luscious jerk.  Only when the feeling got to be so good that I started to stiffen with ecstasy did we break the rhythm.

A number of other Masters, Mistresses, and slaves gathered around to watch our exhibition.  I could see the girls’ eyes shining with excitement, and those who had enough physical freedom were moving sensuously in rhythm with our motions.  But our excitement was more than our Masters wanted just now, so we were ordered to stand still. 

I tried to obey, but Dyl wanted more of the sensation and so I was forced into the same disobedience.  We began to jerk back and forth as vigorously as before.   

Well, this would never do!  Punitive jerks at our breast-leashes quickly had us howling with pain and promising pitifully to obey our Masters, but there was further discipline in store for us.  While we stood motionless, Burch brought a chair out and Drake lifted me up so that it could be placed beneath the crotch-rod on which Dyl and I were mutually impaled. 

The chair was just high enough to serve as the fulcrum for our "teeter-totter," which meant that only one of us could put her feet on the floor at a time.  The other was raised off the floor, her weight supported entirely by the rod between her legs and its dildo!

Fortunately, we both weighed about the same, so neither of us had to be in the "down" position all the time.  I was "up" at first, but Master Burch placed his hands on my shoulders and forced me down so that Dyl was levered up off the floor.  Then Master Drake evidently did the same thing to her, forcing my end of the rod up and giving me an extra-hard goose from my dildo.  I grunted in response to the intense mixture of pain and pleasure.

Our Masters kept this up until we learned that they expected each of us to shove upward as soon as our feet touched the floor, thus relieving them of responsibility for our teetering.  Up and down... up and down!  I could feel the thing in my puss digging up into me in a rhythm that was like ver-r-ry slow love-making, and soon I was crooning with delight as Dyl and I eagerly accepted our new assignment.

Alas!  When it became obvious that we were both thoroughly enjoying the exercise, we were quickly halted and the chair was taken away.  Sobbing with frustration, Dyl tried to reestablish our back-and-forth system, only to be told harshly that this was not allowed.  We were, in fact, to be removed from our mutual plaything because it was clearly more fun than we deserved!

Once the straps were undone, the rods lowered, and our dildos had been withdrawn, Dyl and I were left shuddering and moaning with disappointment.  The onlookers had been taken back to their own tables, a few of them still sighing in sympathy with our bizarre arousal, and we four were pretty much by ourselves again.

Our Masters soon had us body-strapped once more and positioned securely in our U-seats again.  We were each given a deep swig of club soda as a reward for our exertions.

Then we were distracted by a new couple, this time a handsome, barefoot young man and his tall, leather-garbed Mistress.  Except for his bondage he was attractively naked.  I saw that he was trim and muscular, in his 20s the way a boy-toy should be, and that his Mistress obviously had total control over him.  We all watched their entrance with fascination.

I had to admire the complex bit-gag that filled his mouth, jacking his jaws open, and the reins attached to it that hung down at his back.  But believe me, the rest of his bondage was even more interesting. 

First of all, his arms were twisted up behind him, each wrist drawn up toward the opposite shoulder by massive straps so that his forearms made a rigid X in the center of his back.  Next, he was restricted to short, mincing steps by a cruelly short hobble that linked cuffs locked about his big toes.  But it was the way he was leashed that really excited Dyl and me.

His Mistress had fitted him with a bizarre leather "jock" that cleverly exploited his natural vulnerability down there.  His thick, heavy dick thrust out of a hole in the padded sack that protected his balls, and a steel ring encircled it just below its head.  It was much too tight to slip off, and so made an excellent anchor for his leash.  His Mistress kept a steady tension on it, encouraging him to move as quickly as he could, and the expression in his eyes told us how much he was suffering.

Later, I predicted to myself, the poor boy would be teased until he got an erection, for then he would be even more amusing.  His Mistress, a heavy- set, muscular brunette, looked as though she wanted to punish him simply for being male.  Well, he probably looked forward to that as much as she did!

She led him to a table quite close to ours and we could hear her say, "Now, Percy, I want you to lean down as far as you can over the back of this chair."  She pulled up on his leash until he gave a nasal squeal of anxiety.  Then he obeyed, reluctantly, and she quickly wrapped his reins about his neck and pulled down on them, making him bend almost double at the waist.  Ignoring his strangled squawk of pain, she tied them to his dick-leash to secure him in that position, which left his trim, tanned buns mooning everyone behind him.

I was moved by excitement and also by sympathy for his plight, but found myself inordinately pleased when his Mistress got out a thin quirt and laid a few hard ones across his bare butt.  His instinctive attempt to straighten up naturally resulted in a painful jerk at his rod, bringing extra sounds of suffering and a thin smile to his mistress’s face.

Then, from her shoulder bag, his Mistress took out an ivory dildo, shaped like a length of bamboo with its diameter varying from narrow to wide and then to narrow again every inch or so.  I knew immediately where it would go!  She held it down where he could see it, and he moaned with dismay.

A moment later, she had greased the thing with some sort of crème and stepped behind him.  I couldn’t actually see the insertion because she was in the way, but the strangled yowl through his bit-gag was clear evidence that he was being royally skewered. 

After the butt-plug was well in place and secured there with a Y-shaped body strap that his Mistress buckled to vicious tightness, she freed him from his bent-over pose so that he could stand up again.  His face showed his misery and his excitement. 

His body jerked and shuddered, and it was plain that he found the anal invasion terrifically stimulating.  His prick showed how aroused he was, for now it stood out in a massive erection that certainly made him much more vulnerable to the use of his leash.  Grinning triumphantly, his Mistress then led him on a slow, tortured tour of the nightclub floor so that others could admire his plight.  Whenever she jerked at the leash, he seemed to tremble with excitement.

Naturally, he had to move faster than he wanted to, so that the awful rod up his behind became more active.  With every quick step, his toe-hobble tightened painfully.  His face grew red with the strain, his movements were comically clumsy, and his eyes were squeezed shut with piteous embarrassment.  At last, they returned to their table and she forced him to sit down on a chair beside her.  The resulting agony made him arch his back violently, but she ignored it while tightening a strap over his thighs to hold him in place.  Then she calmly ordered a drink from the slave-waitress.

"Little boy," she told him in a menacing tone, "Would you like to have me replace your bit with your butt-plug?"  He shook his head wildly, and then grimaced at the effect the movement produced in his anus.  "Well, then," she went on, "How about just a small spanking?"  He remained motionless.

"Well, it’s no fun if you can’t talk to me," she decided.  "I’m going to remove your bit, and I will expect you to converse in a civil manner.  You know what you can expect if you don’t!"

He nodded, and then turned his head so that she could unfasten the straps that held his bit in place.  When at last it was out of his mouth, he licked his lips gratefully.  "T-thank you, Mistress," we could hear him say softly.

"Now that the bit is out of his mouth," my Master suggested, "I’ll bet he could do some nice work on one of the girls here."  Dyl had the nerve to agree with him out loud.

"Not you, dummy," Master Drake hissed.  His corrective jerk at her breast-leash brought an anguished squeal from her.  "If anybody’s going to eat you, girl, it will be your friend here."  He looked questioningly at my Master, who smiled and nodded his agreement.

And thus it was that our Masters decided on a sixty-nine for Dyl and me.  We were freed from our U-seats, our body straps were removed, and we were told to lie down on the floor, each facing the other’s feet.  We obeyed quickly, even without the use of our arms, because we feared more disciplinary use of our leashes.  Then, helped by our Masters, we got closer to each other until my face was in her crotch and vice-versa.  The odor of Dyl’s pussy was so intoxicating!

On command, each of us spread our thighs to accept the other’s head between them, and then Master Burch used straps to bind my thighs so that Dyl’s head was tightly imprisoned in my crotch.  Master Drake did the same thing with Dyl’s legs, leaving my face jammed firmly into her puss.  More straps were then buckled about our torsos, squeezing our bodies together so that we were secured in this position.

It was only a moment until I felt Dyl’s exploratory tongue at my lovelips.  I stiffened and responded in kind, despite some difficulty in breathing.  With our arms still fixed behind us, we had only our mouths to help us in this new adventure. 

We both knew what to do, of course, and soon each of us was enjoying a thorough tonguing from the other.  I located Dyl’s engorged clit and jammed my stiffened tongue against it again and again, making her squeeze her thighs about my head in the same rhythm.  At the same time, she was exploring my puss with what I thought was an incredibly long tongue, and shoving her chin eagerly at my back entrance. 

With so much stimulation, no wonder we were quivering and twitching under the lash of rekindled desire.  At last, though, I had to pull my head away to get some breath.  My heartfelt moan of excitement was echoed by Dyl’s breathy hymn to Eros.  Then I resumed my assault on my partner’s maidenhood, and she returned the favor with marvelous enthusiasm and exquisite results! 

Soon I could feel myself approaching climax.  It would be much better if Dyl joined me, of course, so I redoubled my efforts between her legs.  She sensed my plan and did the same.  A moment later, a mutual carnal explosion swept each of us into a heaven of physical ecstasy.  While our bodies shook with pleasure, we nibbled and sucked at each other with even greater ardor, and I wanted to tell the whole world what a lovely thing Dyl had done for me!

The joy lasted for several minutes, and we pleasured each other less fiercely while the intense pleasure slowly faded.  When at last we were quiet, our Masters set about releasing us.  Once the straps were removed, we were told to get to our feet so that our crotches could be wiped and dried.

Several other couples had come over to watch our exhibition, and those who could do it applauded when we stood up.  Those whose arms were unavailable to them merely nodded their appreciation.  In turn, Dyl and I bowed to them, smiles on our faces.  The slaves who are brought to the G&F honestly enjoy seeing each other being put through their paces, no matter how strenuous.

But our freedom was short-lived.  Our Masters were not about to let us escape our basic responsibility, which was to keep them amused!