Ladies' Luncheon Circle, Ch. 10-12

Ladies' Luncheon Circle

Chapter 10: The Backyard Crucible

A week after Claire and James begged for domination, Laura's backyard became their crucible. The air pulsed with cruel anticipation of the upcoming torments. The aborted luncheon of last week was a forgotten prelude to the day's descent as the lunch group met to fulfill Claire and James's hope of domination. The mid-spring afternoon sun blazed over Laura's backyard, its harsh light slicing through the gaps in the six-foot privacy fence, where neighboring windows loomed like silent voyeurs. The patio's glass-topped table shimmered beside wrought-iron chairs, where Laura, Sarah, and Megan lounged, their chardonnay glasses glinting, phones propped to capture every twisted frame about to unfold. Daniel shuffled with more drinks nearby, stark naked. His spiked chastity cage flashing behind the piercing ring in his cock helmet, and a six-ounce weight swaying from his bruised, purpled balls with a faint clink. Another inflatable butt plug hummed inside his sore anus, his faded welts a pink tracery across his skin.

Claire and James knelt on the grass; leashes taut from their necks to the patio posts to which they were tied. Their bodies again encased in the punishing devices from James's earlier display, the spiked cage and belt, and a push-up metal bra for Claire with a toothed edge doing the "push-up." Laura rose, her smirk a razor's edge, and snatched the key to Claire's belt dangling on its chain around James's sweat-slick neck. "Time to strip you, slow and shamefully," she purred, voice thick with menace. She knelt before Claire, gripping the vicious metal chastity belt, its jagged edges had chafed her hips and the left insides of her long, smooth, white thighs, raw with angry red welts. As she turned the key in the lock, the belt sprang open with a harsh clank, and Laura tugged it free. Laura prolonged the ordeal by deliberately dragging the serrated edges of the belt across Claire's groin so that the inner ridges scraped her labia's swollen, glistening folds. Claire gasped, a sharp, choking sob, as her pierced labia flopped loose, dripping with trapped sweat, her thighs quivering. Laura tossed the belt aside, its thud on the patio a dull echo, and seized Claire's spiked bra next. The metal contraption dug into the undersides of her large, firm breasts, hoisting them grotesquely, the clamps on her ringed nipples biting deep into tender flesh. Laura unhooked it with agonizing slowness, each spike peeling away to reveal raw, chafed skin beneath, red and inflamed, prickling with sweat. Claire whimpered, a low, guttural whine, as the bra clattered to the ground, her breasts sagging slightly, flushed and ravaged.

Sarah stepped up for James, grinning wickedly, unlocked his gage, and grabbed the spiked cock tube encasing his shaft. "Let's see the goods," she taunted, twisting it off with a slow, wrenching motion. The barbs rasped against his skin, leaving faint welts and a mottled flush as it pulled free, his shaft twitching under the exposure. His foreskin caught on the last spike as the cage was pulled free. He hissed; a sharp, sucking sound through clenched teeth, as she moved to the vicious spiked ball ring. She pried it open, the heavy two-inch-thick locking ring beneath it thudding against his thighs as it stretched his scrotum downward, the skin taut and veined, a deep bruised purple. She wondered how much more he would have been pulled if his massive, heavy scrotum piercing were in place and holding a heavy weight. Having second thoughts and thinking this wouldn't impede anything they wanted to do, Sarah locked the ring back around his scrotum and gave it a harsh tug. Megan tackled the open-center plug, gripping its flared base and yanking it out with a wet, sucking pop. His asshole gaped; a raw, pink tunnel framed by bruised, striped flesh, slick with residual lube. James groaned; a deep, shuddering rumble as his body slumped forward, utterly bare.

Laura wasn't done. "Stand," she barked. Claire and James staggered upright, trembling, and she untied their leashes, forcing them to face each other, inches apart, their breaths mingling in the stifling heat. "You're now stripped bare, uncovered, showing all, now strip each other's pride." They froze, eyes darting uncertainly. Claire's hands hovered near James's chest, her fingers twitching; James's gaze flicked to her face, then down, his jaw tightening as he faltered, unsure of the vague command. A beat of silence stretched, broken by Sarah's sharp laugh. "What, too stupid to figure it out? Take turns, rape each other's mouths and talk shit. Trash each other like the pathetic married fuck-ups you are."

Megan smirked, "Yeah, rip into those bodies; every flaw, every failure. Make it nasty," Laura nodded, "Start with her, James - go."

James hesitated, then lunged, grabbing Claire's hair and yanking her head back, her yelp, a shrill, "Ow, fuck!" ringing out as he forced her to her knees. He shoved his flaccid, welted dried-cum-encrusted cock past her lips, ramming it deep until her gag reflex kicked in, a wet, choking gurgle bubbling up as her tongue flailed against him. "You worthless hag," he snarled, voice dripping with venom, "look at those saggy tits, flabby sacks drooping like a cow's udders, nipples like chewed-up raisins. No wonder you can't get me hard, you're a dried-up bitch who couldn't fuck her way out of a paper bag." His hips thrust harder, her muffled, "Mmph!" vibrating against him, drool spilling down her chin as she clawed at his thighs, her eyes watering.

Claire pulled free, gasping, and sprang up, seizing James by the neck and forcing him down. She straddled his face, grinding her sweaty and dried piss, pierced cunt into his mouth. His nose mashed against her clit as he choked, a guttural, "Gah!" his tongue thrashing under her weight. "Oh, you limp-dicked sissy," she spat, her voice a vicious hiss, "that tiny little clitty locked up in its cage; barely a nub, is useless for anything but pissing yourself. Your boi hole's the real star, gaping like a slut's, begging for cocks 'cause you're a whining enema-slut sissy whore who can't satisfy a flea." You'd be good with your tongue if you could ever find a clit." She rocked harder, his muffled grunts turning to wet, slurping coughs, his hands slapping her ass in futile protest as she smeared her musk across his face. The women roared with laughter, phones zooming in with Sarah narrating, "Look at 'em, tearing each other apart!" A lawnmower hummed faintly beyond the fence, a dog's bark punctuating the air, reminding all that their privacy wasn't a given and they may have even been discovered.

Megan disappeared momentarily and then emerged from the backyard shed. She was hefting two enema kits; four-liter bags swaying heavily, thick black nozzles gleaming in the sun. "Claire's never done this," James rasped, wiping drool from his chin. "I have." Laura's eyes glinted like steel. "Then she'll learn from you, side by side." They were then made to spraw face-down on the grass, asses thrust upward, their skin slick with nervous sweat. Sarah knelt beside Claire, filling her bag with icy water from the hose, the liquid sloshing with a hollow gurgle as she hooked it to the nozzle. Megan took James's bag, spiking it with soap suds that foamed and bubbled, a sharp chemical tang cutting the air. Elise, just arriving from a last-minute database assignment, slipped in unnoticed. Peeling off her sundress to join nude, her pierced labia and nipples catching the light, she reached down and cranked both flows wide open before Sarah and Megan knew she was there. Claire's first enema flowed into her rectum through a large enema nozzle, which would deposit all 4 quarts of cold water into her distended gut in a few minutes.

James was not so lucky; he had an extra-large ribbed double inflatable nozzle that clearly had been originally intended to be used as a punishing douche nozzle distending his asshole. Some of the women were perplexed, but through gritted teeth, Claire explained that with James's recent anal-stretching plug, he needed something more watertight. The ribbed device had been inserted into his rectum, and then the two air squeeze bulbs were used to inflate the device. One for just inside his sphincter and one just outside. Elise, seemingly in the know, had inflated the internal part of the plug to a 4-inch diameter. Nothing was coming out without releasing the pressure from both bulbs.

The cold water surged into Claire's gut, a brutal pressure bloating her belly, she gasped, a high-pitched whine, her hands clawing at the grass as her anus clenched around the nozzle, leaking frigid dribbles down her thighs. James took the soapy assault, his groan low and guttural, his painfully stretched hole twitching as the suds seared inside, his bloated gut quivering under the strain as the wide-open douche nozzle filled him with all 4 quarts in just minutes.

"Hold it for fifteen minutes," Laura commanded, circling with a crop in hand. Claire's face twisted, a keening sob spilling out as the cold cramped her insides, her thighs shaking so hard the grass rustled beneath her. James panted; a series of sharp, ragged grunts; his balls swaying under the weights with each grunt, the soap burning his bowels with a stinging heat. Sarah zapped his scrotum with the electric zapper, a crackling jolt that ripped a choked scream from his throat, while Megan lashed Claire's clit with the crop; five sharp smacks, each a wet slap, her piercing rattling as she shrieked, "Fuck, stop!" The women ignored her, phones zooming in as the timer crawled forward, their bloated bellies visibly trembling.

When the fifteen minutes expired, Laura untied them. "Crawl, opposite corners of the yard. Expel where they can see." Claire scrambled to the left, James to the right, their leashes dragging. Claire squatted, facing the fence, her anus puckered and red from the nozzle's intrusion. She released, a torrential gush of icy water blasted from her hole, a loud, splattering roar as it hit the grass, a faint, misty spray rising as her anus rim pulsed wide then tight, dribbling rivulets down her thighs. Her face contorted, a wail tearing free, "Oh fuck, it's out!" Her body shuddering with exhaustion, her asshole twitching painfully as the last drops leaked. Claire's mind reeled; her submission deepened by the public degradation.

James knelt, ass outward, his raw, pink tunnel already stretched and sore. Elise hit the pressure relief valves of both pump bulbs simultaneously, but before she could painfully yank the ribbed punishment plug out, James expelled it like a rocket blasting off. This was followed by a sudsy, frothy cascade, hissing and bubbling as it sprayed, thick and white with soap, hitting the earth with a wet slap. He roared, a primal bellow, "Goddamn, it burns!" With his gaping hole spasming, the suds stinging as they emptied, he left a foamy puddle that soaked the grass. James's shame burned, yet his subspace deepened with each degradation. A shadow moved behind the fence, perhaps a neighbor peering, or only a dog? Willow Creek's quiet fences hid a scene of depravity. Sarah cackled, "Wave, sluts!" They didn't, too drained to notice.

The women paused, savoring the slaves' exhaustion, their phones capturing every shudder. After a brief few moments, Laura barked, "Up. Let's get you strung up for cleaning." Sarah and Megan hauled them to their feet, their legs wobbling from the enema's toll, and dragged them to a low tree branch near the shed. They tied Claire's wrists with coarse rope, hoisting her arms overhead until her toes barely scraped the grass, her body stretched taut, her belly now flat but quivering with fatigue, her asshole sore and red.

James followed, his wrists bound and yanked up, his bruised ass thrust outward, his gut deflated but trembling, his abraded hole twitching painfully. Laura grabbed the hose, twisting the nozzle to a tight, piercing stream of icy water. "Wash the filth off," she sneered, aiming first at Claire's groin. The frigid jet blasted her labia, the pierced folds flapping under the force, a sharp, "Oh god!" ripped from her as the cold stung her clit, her hips jerking helplessly. Laura shifted the stream to her ass, the water pounding her sore anus, the tender rim clenching and shuddering under the icy assault. She wailed, a shrill, "It's freezing, fuck!" her hole pulsing with raw sensitivity. The hose moved to her tits, the jet slamming into her boobs ravaged undersides, washing away sweat and grime, her nipples hardening painfully as she sobbed, "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" the cold biting deep into her exhausted frame.

James got it next; Laura aimed the icy stream at his scrotum, the bruised, purpled skin shrinking under the assault of cold water pulling his balls up, the heavy ring forced tight by his retreating balls clanking as he roared, "Shit, cold!" The water blasted his still gaping anus, the chafed, pink tunnel already aching from the enema pulsing violently as the jet stung, his groan a deep, "Motherfucker!" His sore hole twitched and clenched taking in hose water as he was still unable to tighten his asshole sphincter fully. Laura lingered, spraying his chest and thighs, the cold amplifying every welt and bruise, his shivers rattling the ropes as his depleted body shook. Sarah cackled, "Look at them dance - pathetic!"

Released, they collapsed, shivering and dripping, but Laura snapped, "Table - now." Claire and James staggered to the patio table, bending over its edge side-by-side, legs forced apart by quickly attached spreader bars Sarah pulled from her goodie bag. Laura and Megan strapped on twelve-inch dildos. The women had upsized the dildos, ensuring constant discomfort, their black rubber slick with lube, gleaming menacingly. Laura took Claire, aligning the dildo with her anus, still wet from the hose, pink and puckered, sore and quivering. She thrust hard, the thick head stretching Claire's rim wide, forcing it into a sloppy, raw circle that gripped the shaft with a faint, wet squelch. Claire screamed, a piercing, guttural howl, as the dildo plunged deep, her hole stretching taut around it, lube oozing as Laura pounded, each thrust a loud, slapping rhythm that shook her ass cheeks, striped faintly from prior welts. She sobbed, "Too big, fuck!" her voice cracking with each brutal drive.

Megan pegged James, aiming at his suffering, pink tunnel; already stretched and tender, it yawned wider as she rammed in, the dildo sinking to the hilt with a slick, sucking sound, lube dripping as she thrust. His rim pulsed, a faint redness blooming around the edges, and he grunted, a series of deep, animalistic moans, his body jerking with each plunge, his bruised ass rippling. Elise filmed, her phone zooming in on Claire's stretched anus, the skin taut and glistening, then James's gaping maw, twitching around the rubber with every thrust.

Sarah swapped with Laura, pegging Claire slower but crueler, twisting the dildo as it sank, grinding against her distressed rim, drawing a keening wail, "Please, no more!" that echoed across the yard. Laura took James, slamming relentlessly, the table creaking as his bruised ass quaked, his roar a broken, "Fucking hell!" as his hole stretched wider, and lube pooled beneath him. Blinds twitched in a neighbor's window; a faint voice could be heard, "What's that noise? Sounds like Bill?" James asked. The women smirked, unperturbed, but the neighbor's shadow lingered, a silent threat of exposure.

Laura stepped back, wiping her hands on her skirt. "Now, punish each other for our amusement. Harshest wins," Sarah smirked. "Claire, flog his balls, twenty strikes if you please." Claire grabbed a spiked flogger, its leather tails studded with blunt metal nubs, and swung at James's dangling scrotum. The first hit landed, a sharp thwack, the nubs smacking into his purpled flesh, the heavy ring clanking as he bellowed. "Harder, slut!" She obeyed, each strike a wet smack, bruising his balls deeper, his screams rising to a ragged, "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" By the twentieth blow, his scrotum was swollen and mottled, his body shaking with the effort to stay upright.

Megan grinned, "James, cane her tits, "fifteen across the nipples." He seized a thin bamboo cane, slashing it across Claire's chafed undersides first, crack! A welt blooming instantly, red and angry against her flushed skin. She shrieked, a shrill, "More, pig!" taunting him as he lashed again, her breasts quaking, nipples throbbing as the cane bit into them both simultaneously. Her nipple rings catching the cane dramatically adding to her tit pain, her sobs a wet, "Oh god, oh god!" By the end, her chest was a lattice of raised, stinging lines centered around her ring-decorated nipples and fully engulfing her areolas.

Elise purred, "Claire, clean his ass, enema mess and all." Claire crawled behind James, her face pressing into his soapy, hose-washed hole. Her tongue plunged deep, broad, desperate strokes, gagging on the faint, bitter residue, a retching cough muffled as she lapped, his groan a low, "Deeper, slut!" Claire yanked his hair back, giving her traction to force her face in harder, her nose mashed against his mauled rim, choking sounds bubbling up as her tongue swirled inside his twitching tunnel.

Daniel, getting a taste of dominant spirit, rasped, "James, piss in her mouth, make it vile." James knelt, Claire below him, and unleashed a sharp, acrid stream that hit her lips, she halfway gulping it down with a gurgling choke, and then spitting onto his bruised scrotum as she pushed him away. She then turned James around and spit piss on his ass as she applied a paddle to his cheeks. As she pummeled his ass his hiss a pained, "You cunt!" as the piss stung his welts, his ass cheeks clenching under the assault. Elise's ass-licking won, Laura declared, "Most visceral - perfect filth," as phones replayed the gagging.

Sarah upped the ante. "Degrading sex acts; most humiliating wins our vote." She shoved Claire atop James's face, her urine-soaked sex grinding into his mouth, his nose mashed. He choked, a wet, "Mmph!" as she rocked, her spiked bra was cinched back on roughly, digging into her udder undersides as he clawed her thighs, leaving faint welts. Pushing her off him, James picked up a pair of discarded panties and reused them as a gag on her, their crusty gusset deposits flaking off in her mouth. Megan, meanwhile, locked Claire's chastity belt back on and handed James a massive cucumber from the yard garden. He forced it through Claire's belt rear opening into her ass causing her to scream a muffled, "Fucking hell!" as he rammed the vegetable deep, her anus stretching wide around the green shaft, a faint, wet pop as it sank in. Elise flipped Claire around so that her now enema-loosened ass was farting air into James's nose; he gagged, a retching, "Goddamn!" the spasms jerking his spiked tube, his shaft swelling painfully as he begged.

Daniel grinned as he yelled, "Time for some recycling." Claire, complying pissed through her belt into a bowl, a sharp, yellow flood, James drank, a choking gulp, then spat it back onto her welted tits, licking it off with a slobbering, "Take it, whore!" as she twisted his ball ring, her cry a sharp, "Bastard!" Daniel won, Sarah voted, "Filthy genius," as Laura relocked his cage.

Exhausted, Claire and James knelt, her tits welted and raw, covered with burning urine, his ass gaping and bruised, balls swollen. Laura loomed, "You're ours. Home rules: Claire, belt on 24/7, James, plug stays, no indoor expulsion. Piss-drinking daily, film it. Next week, shaved fully, branded 'SLUT' and 'WHORE' in marker, be ready for public exposure risk." A shadow lingered at the fence. Bill's voice, "What's that?" Sarah whispered, "He doesn't know about Claire and James yet, but next time, he's in." They smirked, sending Claire and James crawling to James's car, leashes dragging, their broken bodies a testament to the group's unyielding reign.

Chapter 11: The New Order

By mid-summer, the manicured streets of Willow Creek had settled into a deceptive calm, the summer heat pressing against the suburb's tidy facades. Behind closed doors, however, Laura's reign had hardened into a relentless machine of control. Claire, James, Elise, and Daniel now lived under strict chastity, steel devices locked tight around their genitals, unyielding and cold. Laura held the keys to Daniel's, Claire's, and James's devices, the metal rings clinking in a velvet pouch she kept in her purse. They were a constant reminder of her dominion. Sarah, as Elise's primary mistress, carried the key to her slave's cage, a slim silver chain dangling from her wrist. The three dominant women, Laura, Sarah, Megan, and now Bill, also possessed keys to Elise's and Claire and James's homes, granting them unrestricted access. They frequently dropped in unannounced, their visits a mix of teasing, inspections, and casual exploitation, their footsteps echoing through the slaves' lives like unpredictable thunder.

Claire, James, and Elise were forbidden from wearing anything but their chastity devices within their own homes, their nudity a stark rule enforced with glee. Bill, newly initiated after catching wind of the group's secrets in April, reveled in this power, making up for lost time with a subtle vengeance aimed at Megan for keeping him in the dark. He frequented Elise's modest apartment most often, drawn to her large, pierced tits, fuller and firmer than Megan's, a fact he never let his wife forget. He'd drag Megan along, her presence a silent witness as he lounged on Elise's couch, barking orders.

By mid-summer, their lives had settled into a relentless cycle of submission." For her part, Elise was an obedient sub and submitted to Bill and the others because Sarah commanded it so. But Elise hadn't changed her perspective on men. She'd suck Bill's cock but was watching Megan sitting off to the side and in her mind, she was tonguing Megan's pussy. Often, her mind drifted to Sarah, her genuine desire, even as she obeyed. "On your knees, slut," he'd growl, and Elise would kneel, her lips parting for a sloppy blowjob, her tongue swirling around his thick shaft with wet, slurping sucks. Bill would groan, a low, satisfied rumble, guiding her hands to cup her heavy breasts, pressing them against his ball sack, the soft flesh rubbing his taut skin as she sucked, her nipples grazing his thighs, leaving faint red streaks.

"These tits," he'd mutter, loud enough for Megan to hear, "so much better than yours, firm, ripe, perfect." Megan's jaw would tighten, her eyes narrowing, but she'd stay silent. Sarah was sometimes present for these liaisons and loved to watch Bill torment Elise, as well as witness and add humiliation to Bill's punishment of Megan. When Sarah visited, she would usually stay well past Bill and Megan's visit and punish Elise for enjoying Bill, inserting a fresh ginger plug into her ass and a newly carved ginger dildo into her twat. She would then cinch up her belt tight and have her orally service her for hours while the ginger did its job.

Sometimes, Bill, having borrowed the key from Sarah, would flip Elise into doggy style, pinning her hips over a low stool, her ass thrust high. "Megan, get over here," he'd snap, and she'd perch on Elise's back, her fingers prying open Elise's dripping slit, glistening folds parted wide, pink and slick as well as her ass should Bill choose that orifice. Elise loved this position. She could imagine that Megan, sitting on her back, was dominating her and that soon she would slip off and pull her mouth into her crotch.

In this position Bill would pull open Megan's blouse and roughly maul her tits while all the while plunging into Elise's twat using quick, brutal fucks, his thrusts a loud, slapping rhythm, "smack, smack." Elise, compliantly kept up the facade of enjoying Bill as demanded by Sarah, by answering his groans with, "Please, more!" Megan hated feeling his hands on her tits as he fucked the younger women. He'd always pull out just shy of Elise's climax, leaving her panting, her cunt clenching air, denied release. Megan's frustration simmered, Bill fucked Elise more often than her now, his petty revenge cutting deeper each time. He'd occasionally visit Claire, too, bending her over her kitchen counter, his cock teasing her edges until he was near bursting, then finishing fast, depriving her of orgasm. Megan tagged along for these sessions, her presence a constant, bitter shadow.

Claire and James bore the brunt of the group's attention; their marriage was twisted into a daily ritual of torment. Laura mandated an hour of mutual teasing, Claire straddling James's chest, grinding her locked labia against his cage, her heat seeping through steel as he groaned, "Fuck, let me out!" James would retaliate, pinning her down, his caged cock rubbing her thighs, his breath hot on her neck as she whined, "You're useless like this!"

Claire continued James's enemas, now a daily four-liter ordeal, icy or hot soapy water bloating his gut as he knelt, trembling, his anus clenching the nozzle. Claire had accumulated quite the collection of nozzles, some double bardex inflatables, some with multi- incrementally placed ever larger bumps and humps, some just huge, ribbed plugs. All were designed to push James's tolerances as the plugs stretched his asshole. She never let him see which nozzle would skewer him -- just forcefully inserted it. Visitors often tried to time their arrival to watch James's reaction to Claire's surprises.

She'd then kneel beside him, sucking his bruised balls, her tongue lapping the taut, purpled skin, wet smacks mingling with his pained grunts, "Oh god, it's too much!" as he fought to hold the load. James, in turn, serviced Claire's ass and tits, his tongue tracing her puckered anus - earthy and warm, then swirling her clamped nipples, wishing he could reach her caged hole and clit, his muffled, "So close!" lost in her flesh.

Sarah added a cruel twist, James now attached nipple vacuum cups to Claire's tits for an hour daily each morning, the suction stretching her nipples into elongated, sore points, ringed, and permanently distended. Claire's chest ached constantly, her whines, "They hurt, fuck!" a soundtrack to their mornings, the red, swollen tips brushing her skin with every move. She was no longer able to hide the condition of her nipples or the rings unless she wore the most heavily padded bras, but the other women made sure that was not the case when they went out to lunch or shopping together. No man missed seeing Claire's nipples and rings through the nice, sheer professional blouse she was forced to wear when out.

The weekly luncheons, rotating among the women's homes, had calcified into a perverse pattern. On a late July Tuesday, a typical ritual began in Megan's sleek dining room during her hosting turn. Laura and Sarah unlocked the slaves' chastity devices, Daniel's spiked cage, Elise's steel trap, Claire's jagged belt, James's spiked tube and ring, metal clanking as they tossed them into the dishwasher, its hum a low drone as the cycle started. The weekly hygiene ritual had become a humiliating spectacle. The four slaves, now fully nude, lined up in Megan's spacious bathroom, their bodies bare under the harsh fluorescent light. Laura gripped the shower hand nozzle, spraying a cold jet into Daniel's groin, the water blasting his piercing and balls, a sharp, "Fuck, cold!" ripping from him as his shaft shrank. Sarah took Elise, the stream pounding her pierced labia, her whimper, "Oh shit!" echoing as the cold stung. Megan scrubbed them with a stiff bath brush, bristles raking Daniel's ass, red welts blooming as he yelped, "Ow, damn it!" then Elise's slit, her shrieks "Stop, please!" sharp as the brush grazed her clit. Claire and James followed, Laura's jet hitting Claire's swollen nipples, her sob "Fuck, it burns!" melding with James's roar "Motherfucker!" as Sarah scrubbed his distressed anus, smacking it twice with the brush, "crack, crack," for good measure as he stepped out, his hiss a pained, "You bitch!"

Sandwiches and coffee were served; the slaves became entertainment. The women exchanged smirks, their control absolute as the slaves braced for torment. Paired male-female, Daniel with Elise, Claire with James, they lay on the hardwood floor in a "69-position," ordered to orally stimulate each other. Daniel's tongue plunged into Elise's dripping cunt, her juices trickling down her thighs, a wet, "Mmmph!" muffled as she sucked his turgid cock, its tip pulsing against her throat. Claire lapped James's balls, her tongue swirling the bruised skin, his groan "Fuck, yes!" lost as he rimmed her ass, wishing for her locked clit.

Sarah swapped them mid-suck Daniel now tonguing Claire's anus, her whine "Deeper!" sharp; James sucking Elise's pierced nipples, her moan "Oh god!" high-pitched. After a week of teasing, cocks throbbed and cunts dripped within minutes, but orgasm warnings loomed. A little league baseball bat with a condom over the hitting end sat on the table. One slip, and they'd be put in the diaper position on their backs, legs spread wide, the bat rammed dry into their distended anuses, riding crop slashing their clits, cunts, cocks, and balls. None had dared, but the threat hung heavy.

Next, two strap-on dildos, now fourteen inches, upsized every few weeks, emerged from a black duffel bag, their black rubber gleaming with fresh lube. Laura smirked, "Men first break 'em open." Daniel bent Elise over the dining table, her large tits pressed flat against the wood, her ass thrust high. He aligned the dildo with her anus, pink and puckered from prior torments and rammed it in, the thick head stretching her rim wide into a raw, glistening circle, squelching wetly as it sank deep. Elise screamed "Too big, fuck!" Her voice was a piercing wail, her hole gripping the shaft, lube oozing down her thighs as he thrust, each plunge a loud, slapping rhythm that shook her bruised cheeks. James took Claire, pinning her hips to the table's edge, her ass angled up. He drove the dildo deep, her anus gaping instantly a sloppy, pink tunnel pulsing around the rubber, lube dripping onto the floor as she sobbed her cries were ragged, her rim twitching with every brutal thrust.

The dildos, grew in size every few weeks, ensured their asses stayed distended, the fucking intrusive and uncomfortable, their pained submission a chorus of gasps and moans.

Sarah clapped, "Switch women's turn." Elise and Claire staggered up, their assholes sore and quivering, and strapped on the slick dildos. Elise took James this time, shoving him face-down on the table, his legs spread wide. She aimed at his sore, pink tunnel, already stretched from past assaults and plunged in, the fourteen-inch shaft sinking to the hilt with a slick, sucking pop, his rim stretching wider, a faint redness blooming around the edges. James grunted a deep, animalistic roar "Fucking hell, too much!" His body jerked, lube pooling beneath him as she pounded, her thrusts a steady, wet smack that echoed through the room. Claire turned on Daniel, bending him over a chair, his ass thrust out. She rammed the dildo into his anus, the thick rubber forcing his hole open, a taut, glistening gash that squelched with each drive. His groan "Oh shit, slow down!" was lost in the rhythm of her hips, his bruised cheeks rippling under the assault. The women smirked, phones rolling, their laughter mingling with the slaves' cries as the anal violation flipped, the dildos' size ensuring every thrust stung.

Finally, actual fucking was set, Claire with James, Daniel with Elise, on a comforter atop Megan's counter, eye-level for the women's perverse glee. Claire knelt in extreme doggy position, ass high, James's cock nestled in her folds, his groan "Let me fuck her!" agonized as he waited. Daniel mounted Elise, her large tits smashed into the counter, her whimper "Please, now!" desperate as his erection pressed against her hanging lips. Laura counted "One, two, three" making them wait, cocks throbbing, cunts dripping, until "Go!" One stroke every three seconds, maddingly slow and frustrating, Daniel pounded Elise hard, a loud smack, then froze, her moan, "Fuck, more!" unanswered for three beats. James slammed Claire, her cry "Yes, harder!" cut short by the pause, their rhythm a torturous tease.

Orgasms required a unanimous vote from the entertained witnesses to their slow-motion fucking. After thirty minutes, Daniel rasped, "Please, cum?" but was denied. At forty-five minutes, Laura polled, but unanimous votes were rare and no one was cumming today. In three months, Daniel had cum once in Elise, licking her clean, salty semen on his tongue, her climax shuddering as he slurped. Claire and James, despite weekly fucking and daily teasing, hadn't been allowed to cum since April, their frustration a palpable ache. The ladies were really enjoying denying the married couple any release even as they were forced to tease each other daily and fuck each other as a spectacle every luncheon.

Post-performance, the women reclined, sated, as the slaves serviced them, Daniel's tongue deep in Laura's sex, fast and wet; Elise slow on Sarah's clit, a soft suck; Claire swabbing Megan's labia, broad strokes; James licking Laura's asshole, a deep probe. Satisfied, the slaves lined up again in the bathroom, brushing each other, Claire raking James's ass, his yelp "Fuck you!" sharp; Elise scrubbing Daniel's balls, his groan "Easy, bitch!" gruff. The dishwasher dinged, and Laura, Sarah, and Megan pulled the steaming chastity devices free, strapping them without allowing them to cool, tightly on the slaves' scrubbed flesh, metal biting as they winced, locked for another week.

On one such week, as the slaves tongued the women, Megan mused, "God, three months without cumming - brutal." Sarah smirked, "You'd still get off with only nipple play." Megan scoffed, "Never - I can't cum that way." The women, always competitive and looking to add excitement to their luncheons, considered how to best resolve this question. A bet was negotiated after Sarah added, "Let's make it interesting:" one hour of nipple play for Megan while you resist an orgasm, or three months in chastity for the losers. Megan versus Laura and Sarah. At Sarah's command, Daniel and James attacked Megan's nipples, sucking hard wet, sloppy smacks then licking, their groans of enjoyment loud, but after thirty minutes, Megan grinned, "You're fucked, three months locked up." Laura snapped, "Elise, Claire, now." The women took over, their tongues flickering lightly over Megan's hardening nipples, teasing the sensitive peaks with subtle swirls that only another woman would understand. Within minutes, Megan's body bucked, a loud, "Oh fuck, yes!" bursting free, her sex dripping a puddle onto the floor as spasms rocked her.

Laura locked Megan into a tight chastity belt on the spot, steel cutting off her clit and slit, back straps parting her ass cheeks, inviting penetration. When Bill found his wife locked in the belt that evening, he was furious. Megan had excluded him from the group's fun earlier, and now denied him her body, and he vowed revenge. He doubled his visits to Elise and Claire, but now, before taking their mouths or assholes (cunts for teasing only), he stripped Megan bare in front of Elise or Claire and anyone else present, paddling her ass, fifty loud smacks, her cries, "Ow, Bill, stop!" ringing as welts bloomed. She stayed naked for the evenings, even the drive home, her bare ass squirming on the car seat, a humiliated spectator to his conquests. Little did he know, but this was Elise's favorite part of the evenings.

Chapter 12: The Unveiling

Early August found Willow Creek draped in a humid haze, the air thick with cicadas and the scent of grilled meat wafting from Megan and Bill's backyard. Megan and Bill hosted a rare couples' gathering, a facade of normalcy masking the group's secrets. Inside, the house buzzed with a veneer of a suburban vanilla gathering of couples: Laura and Daniel, Sarah and Mark, Megan and Bill, Claire and James, with Elise tagging along as Sarah's "friend." Mark, alone among the men, remained blissfully unaware of the weekly luncheons, the enforced chastity, the dominance and submission, and the slave sex that had consumed the group for months. The men gathered in the downstairs rec room, a dimly lit cave of wood paneling and green felt, where a poker table sat strewn with cards, beer bottles, whiskey tumblers, and pretzel crumbs. Upstairs, the women chatted in the living room, their voices a light hum over iced tea and lemon squares. Yet beneath the surface, tension simmered like a storm brewing.

Claire's nipples, stretched to three-quarters of an inch by James's daily vacuum cups, jutted obscenely through her thin blouse, she'd been banned from wearing bras, and the protrusions were impossible to miss. Upstairs, the women smirked knowingly, but when Claire was sent downstairs with snacks and drinks, many times unnecessarily by the women, the men's eyes lingered, Mark's especially, his brow furrowing as he shuffled the deck. James, caged in his steel device, felt his cock swell painfully at the sight, the spikes biting as he shifted in his seat, a low grunt escaping his throat. The men's banter faltered, Bill's frustration simmering beneath the surface, three beers deep and still seething from Megan's bet, her chastity belt denying him her pussy for another month slouched in his chair, his jaw tight. His ravishments of Elise and Claire offered some relief, but his grudge against Megan festered, compounded by her earlier secrecy. The room grew quiet, the clink of bottles and rustle of chips the only sounds, until Bill's voice cut through, slurred and bitter. "Fuckin' hell, I ain't gettin' any in my own marriage."

No one spoke for a long moment, the air thickening. Daniel stared at his cards, James at the table's edge, their silence heavy with shared knowledge. Mark, oblivious, leaned forward, his voice tentative. "Megan not into it anymore?" Bill snorted, "Nah, she misses it bad." Mark frowned, confused. "So, what's the problem then? Just intercourse, or everything?" Bill's eyes narrowed, his mind flashing to Megan's belt, the steel barrier taunting him. "No, she sucks me off anytime, anywhere, takes it up the ass when I want." Mark blinked, his beer halfway to his lips. "So... medical issue? You know, down there?"

Bill slammed his bottle down, foam sloshing, his anger boiling over, half at Megan, half at Mark's ignorance, his best friend left out of the loop. "Lemme explain," he growled, then yelled upstairs, "Megan! Get down here!" Footsteps thudded, and Megan appeared, her face tight as she stood beside Bill, her posture meek, she'd learned to appease him after a month of weekly spankings for denying him, her ass still tender from the last paddling. Bill smirked, "She made a little bet with her nipples. Tell him, babe." Megan's cheeks flushed a deep crimson, her eyes pleading. "Bill, please, don't--." Mark glanced around--Daniel and James stared at the floor, avoiding his gaze. Bill's voice hardened, "Tell him."

She hesitated, and Bill's tone sharpened. "Fine, let's show him those nubs that got you into this mess. Wonder if Laura's got a crop upstairs?" he said threateningly. Megan's hands shook as she gripped her shirt's hem, lifting it slowly, unintentionally teasingly, over her head, revealing a lacy white bra, thin and expensive, clinging to her moderate, firm tits. Bill barked, "Tell him." She stammered, "Laura and Sarah bet me... they could make me orgasm with just nipple play." The men's eyes snapped to her chest, her nipples, rock-hard, poked through the lace, straining the fabric. Mark, curiosity piqued, pressed, "Did you play with 'em yourself? That'd give you an edge not to cum." Her blush deepened, her gaze dropping, a pause stretching too long. Bill grinned, "Why're they so hard, hun?" She sank deeper, voice small, "Embarrassment... exposure... it's making me hot."

"Show 'em," Bill ordered. She faltered but didn't argue, reaching back to unhook her bra--her chest stretched, accentuating her hardened peaks as she did so. The clasp snapped, and the bra slid down her arms, landing on the table with a soft thud. She moved to cover herself, but Bill seized her wrists, pinning them straight, her tits bare, nipples stiff, pink, and glistening with a faint sheen of sweat. The room fell silent, and the clink of the ice in the whiskey tumblers was the only sound as Mark processed the truth. Mark, horny and emboldened, stared, only Claire's bizarre protrusions rivaled this sight. "So, Laura and Sarah worked you to orgasm by playing with your nipples then?" he asked, picturing girl-on-girl heat. Megan shook her head, "No, Daniel and James started..." Mark's jaw dropped, his confusion spiraling as he glanced at the silent men.

Bill turned up the heat. "You wet? Dripping down your thighs?" Megan stuttered, "Y-yes." "Finish the story," he snapped. "Daniel and James tongued my nipples for thirty minutes, but no orgasm--men don't know how to do it. I'd have won, but Elise and Claire took over... sucking, flicking... I came after a few minutes of their ministrations." Megan's pride crumbled, and her dominance was now a distant memory.

Mark stood, mouth agape, staring at her tits, then rasped, "But.... But.... how's that stop Bill getting any?" Bill grinned, "Show him." Megan's eyes fluttered shut, her skirt dropping with a whisper, high heels and her chastity belt all that remained, steel gleaming, a trickle of arousal glistening on her thigh. Mark gasped, horny and baffled. Bill laughed, "Cat's out of the bag. Upstairs we go." Mark hesitated, "The women--Sarah will see..." Bill shoved Megan up the stairs, chuckling, "They already know."

In the living room, the women froze, Laura mid-sip, Sarah's glass clinking down, Claire and Elise wide-eyed. Bill announced, "Mark knows." A chaotic explanation spilled out, Sarah admitting months of dominance, her ownership of Elise; Laura detailing the slaves' chastity; Megan recounting the bet. Mark's face darkened, fury matching Bill's old rage. Why was he the last to know? Sarah had a slave, Elise, with those huge tits, kept from him entirely? He huffed, pacing, as Bill clapped his shoulder, "My friend, let's make it up to you." Mark growled, "How?" Laura and Bill barked in unison, "Slaves - dress and position!"

Mark watched, stunned, as Daniel, Elise, Claire, and James stripped to their chastity devices. Megan already stood bare but for hers. Elise, Claire, and James dropped to their knees along the fireplace, legs splayed wide, faces pressed to the rug, hands reaching back to pry open their asses and cunts, raw, striped flesh and glistening folds on display. Bill grinned, "Your pick, mouths, asses, pussies. Take Megan too, if you want." She started to protest, but Bill's glare silenced her. Mark turned on Sarah, "These guys been fucking your mouth, ass, and pussy?" She paled, "No, no... just you, I only used their mouths to get off."

Tears welled, her voice cracking, "I'll do anything to fix this." She dropped to her knees, fumbling at his shorts, but he stopped her. "No." Mark's mind reeled, anger, lust, and power crashing together as he gripped Sarah's wrist tightly. Years of Sarah's restraint had fueled his frustration, now unleashed. Bill whispered something in his ear, and he nodded, his tone cold, "Strip. Neatly fold your clothes and hand them to Bill." Sarah hesitated, then obeyed, peeling off her blouse and skirt, her movements deliberate under his gaze. Her bra followed, then her panties, her smooth, hairless skin bared, her excitement evident in the flush creeping up her chest, the slight quiver of her thighs, and the moist glistening between her nether folds. She carefully folded each item, stacking them into a tidy pile, and handed them to Bill. Sarah's heart pounded, her dominance crumbling under Mark's gaze.

Mark added, "She'll stop by next week to get them. Won't need 'em this weekend, especially for the ride home, completely nude and on display." Bill smirked and simply silently lifted Sarah's discarded panties from the couch where she'd shed them earlier, pressing them to his nose and inhaling deeply, a crude acknowledgment of his dominance over her that sent a jolt of embarrassment through Sarah. Her cheeks burned as she realized visiting Bill later might exact a price, sexual, humiliating, and quite possibly pushing her boundaries.

Mark yanked Sarah over his lap, her knees parting over his thigh, her wet heat pressing against his skin, a fact Bill noted with a knowing grin, muttering acknowledgement. Mark's hand cracked down, a sharp smack echoing as Sarah's bare ass jiggled, her flesh exposed and vulnerable. The other couples gathered closely around to watch the spectacle. The women's faces tightened, their power shifting as Mark asserted control. Another blow landed, then another, her cheeks reddening, her gasps, "Mark, please!" mingling with the sting. Her legs trembled, her arousal undeniable, slickness glistening between her thighs as Bill chuckled, "Look at her squirm." The paddle Laura handed Mark intensified the punishment, crack, crack, her skin blooming fire-engine red, her body arching with each strike, visibly excited despite the pain.

When her ass glowed red enough, Mark stood her up, gripping her chin, reeling at the memory of her prim attitude toward sex these last few years, his desires frequently denied, all the while she was part of some private orgy club. "You're my three-holed slut now - mouth, cunt, ass, all mine to use. Fuck or suck what I say, punished and exposed when I want. Understand?" Sarah, breathless, nodded, her voice soft but respectful, "Yes, Mark." He scanned the slaves, then turned to Bill, "We're sharing, right? Sarah, Megan, submissive to us both?" Bill nodded, eyes glinting. "Oh, yeah. They'll learn their place."

Sarah and Megan exchanged glances, a dawning realization sinking in along with a reluctance to give up their unquestioned dominance. Their dominance in the luncheon group meant nothing here; within their marriages, Mark and Bill would rule, using them for pleasure and fun, possibly trading them like toys. They both silently wondered if their previous dominance was just for fun with the girls, and maybe they'd always wanted their men to be in charge. Their roles in what had been traditional marriages loomed in their minds--would they now be completely submissive to their husbands?

Sarah's embarrassment deepened, her mind flashing to Bill sniffing her panties, the implication of what he might demand later. Megan, still flushed from her forced display, saw the same future, Mark's massive cock, Bill's rough hands, both men reshaping their roles. Sarah, panting, met Megan's eyes, a silent acknowledgment passing between them: their husbands would dominate, exchange them, and revel in their submission.

Mark paused, then growled, "Need something to get me hot before I fuck a slave." Turning to the recently spanked Sarah and Megan he ordered "you two sluts, 69 on the couch, now." Sarah and Megan, always having been straight and dominant, balked, their protests sharp. The husbands stood them up, shoved them together, and rolled them onto the couch, Megan twisted as she was rolled so their mouths landed in each other's cunts. They hesitated, lips trembling, until Bill's crop and Mark's paddle reignited their asses, with a "crack" and a "smack," their tongues dove in to each other with frantic passion. Wet slurps and muffled moans filling the room.

Mark's cock swelled, the massive head, over two inches wide, red and throbbing, poking from his shorts' leg, low-hanging balls shifting beneath. Laura gulped, Sarah's boasts about his size weren't lies, then pulled Daniel under her skirt, his tongue lapping her pussy with practiced skill, her sigh a soft, "Good boy." Sarah and Megan rolled apart, panting in embarrassed, orgasmic bliss, their faces slick with each other's juices. Megan glanced up, jaw dropping at seeing Mark's equipment, huge shaft, monstrous head, balls like pendulums.

Bill took charge, addressing Mark emcee-style, "Let me introduce the cunts for your pleasure. They will make this all up to you. Elise first, tight cunt, squeals when fucked, ass like a vise, piercings for tugging, tits begging to be mauled." Elise's fingers tightened on her spread flesh, a faint whimper escaping as Mark's gaze swept over her, her spread hole twitching. "Claire - wet twat, loud as hell, ass stretches wide, nipples sore and long, perfect for twisting." Claire's sob "Please..." was faint, her anus quivering also.

Mark's shorts hit the floor, his swollen shaft--over two inches wide, throbbing--drawing gasps. Sarah guided it to her mouth, struggling with its girth, drool spilling as she submitted fully. Bill laughed, "Pick a slave, man, or take 'em all." The night stretched ahead, power shifting, secrets laid bare.

Mark scanned the slaves' spread asses and cunts, stripes and welts across their asses and thighs marking their submission, then asked, "What about James?"