Kneeling Together

Rebecca sighed. It was 2am and she was still awake.

Her wife, Hannah, was sound asleep. Rebecca loved Hannah more than anything. She absolutely adored her. Her smiles, her support, her giggles, her athletic body, her homemade spaghetti.

However, a hunger gnawed at Rebecca.

While their love was strong, their lovemaking was weak. Lately, their familiar Saturday night routine had become nothing more than an unsatisfying habit.

Tired, horny and beyond frustrated, Rebecca got out of bed. She opened her laptop and typed out a short erotic story, attempting to get off her chest the thoughts that swirled inside her. Fantasies of kneeling before a domme. Being called filthy names while her curly hair was pulled and her curvy ass was spanked.

Throughout the next week, Rebecca read her story over and over. Creating it did not satiate her desire, it only amplified it. As her sexual frustration continued to grow, she vacillated back and forth on whether or not to share the story and her fantasy with Hannah.

It was something of a miracle that Rebecca and Hannah got together at all. They both possessed a deep fear of putting themselves out there.

When they first met, their mutual friends, who could see their obvious attraction to each other well before they could, took it upon themselves to intervene. The first meeting was orchestrated with all the subtlety of a marching band: a 'casual group hang' at The Back Post which resulted in Rebecca and Hannah being the last two standing within ten minutes.

Even then, seated together at the bar, an invisible force field seemed to exist between them, preventing any real advances beyond quiet pleasantries.

It took weeks of persistent encouragement and two more casual group hangs from their friends before Rebecca and Hannah finally admitted to each other, with beet red blushes, that they were indeed quite smitten with each other.

After days of thought, Rebecca gathered every bit of her courage. She was determined to share the story with her wife.

"Hey," Rebecca managed, clearing her throat, after putting the last plate in the dishwasher.

"Everything alright, honey? You've been quiet tonight."

"Yeah, everything's fine. It's just... I wrote something..." She took a deep breath, her nerves becoming overwhelming. "And I'd really like you to read it."

"You wrote something? What is it?"

"It's kind of personal." Rebecca said, almost wishing she hadn't brought it up.

"It's personal?" Hannah said, now concerned.

"Oh, don't worry... It's nothing bad... It's about sex. Just a silly fantasy... Something that's been on my mind."

The curvy brunette handed Hannah her phone. Her wife's eyes went wide as she read.

"Wow..." she finally said. "That was... intense. And, pretty hot. Good job, babe!"

Rebecca was relieved. "You really think so?"

Hannah nodded. Then she paused, as if she wanted to say more. "Thank you for sharing this with me, Rebecca."

"Hannah, do you think... do you think you could ever... um... explore this with me?" Rebecca said, feeling emboldened by Hannah's positive review.

"Honey... You know I love you more than anything. And I'm so glad you felt you could share this..."

Rebecca's shoulders slumped in disappointment.

"... it's just... it's not me. I'm just not that... assertive. I could never imagine calling you those names, or... taking charge like that."

The words created uneasiness between the two wives. Hannah could feel how badly she disappointed Rebecca.

"Actually," Hannah confessed, trying to fix the broken dynamic, "for years, I have kinda wished you could do that to me..."

Saturday arrived again, and Rebecca and Hannah's scheduled lovemaking session took place with the precision of a train station.

For Rebecca, it was a sharp reminder of the growing chasm between their intimacy and her fantasies.

When it was over, a deep disappointment washed back over Rebecca. Predictably, sleep remained elusive.

But this week, she was more focused on Hannah's confession, her own secret desire to be dominated. It swirled in Rebecca's mind, a bittersweet revelation that unfortunately was a bridge to nowhere.

She tossed and turned. Finally, unable to bear her thoughts anymore, Rebecca slipped out of bed.

Instead of writing another story, she navigated to a website she'd only ever lurked on, a place where female fantasies were shared: 'The Unveiled Heart: A Space for Her Desires.'

Rebecca saw the large empty text box on the screen. She copied and pasted the short story she shared with Hannah and hit the 'Release My Words' button.

It felt like an anonymous, frustrated scream. But, it made Rebecca feel a little better.

When Rebecca woke up the next morning, she checked her email. A new message sat in her inbox. The subject line was stark and simple: "Your story".

A jolt went through her. Did someone actually read it? She looked at Hannah, she was still asleep.

Rebecca opened the email.

--

Subject: Your story

Rebecca,

Your story reveals a raw desire for domination that I find very compelling.

I've cultivated a garden of desperate women, all eager to spread for me, and I plan on making you my next beautiful addition.

You will show me your willing submission by replying to this email. Don't disappoint me.

Your Mistress,

Abbi

--

There were millions of reasons not to answer that email. The chilling bluntness of it. The ridiculous command to submit.

It screamed danger, recklessness, and toyed with the sort of marital transgressions that should have sent her running.

But Rebecca was curious. Insatiably, dangerously curious. Who was this dominant woman who claimed to cultivate a 'garden of desperate women'?

It was someone who had recognized her plea, someone who was offering a plunge into the darkness she craved, someone who promised her mastery.

"Fuck it." She began to type out a response.

--

Subject: Re: Your story

Dear Abbi,

I was surprised to receive your message. It was certainly direct.

You sparked my curiosity. You are correct, I've been recently exploring submissive desires within myself that I think you may be able to help me with.

You should know that I am married. I love my wife very much. So there are boundaries that I'm not willing to cross.

If you'd be interested in a purely virtual exchange, I would be open to that.

Thank you again for your message. I'm interested to hear your thoughts.

Sincerely,

Rebecca

--

Subject: Re: Your story

Rebecca,

Your marriage is noted. However, the desires you've unearthed within yourself don't simply vanish because of a wedding ring.

A virtual relationship? Yes, Rebecca, I would very much like to explore that with you.

However, if we are going to do this, we are going to do it on my terms. And the first term is this: from now on, when you address me, you will refer to me as your Mistress and yourself as my slut.

Do you understand?

I await your eager response.

Abbi

--

As their initial emails began, Rebecca's replies were hesitant. She would address her domme as "Mistress Abbi", but found calling herself a "slut" difficult, using it far too sparingly for her virtual mistress' tastes.

Abbi, on the other hand, was firm and in control. Her emails were filled with explicit instructions and filthy language, demanding that Rebecca describe her devotion, her fantasies, and her sex acts with extreme detail.

These emails became a daily, intoxicating ritual for Rebecca. She found herself responding in a way that both thrilled and terrified her.

There was also a growing curiosity. Who was this Mistress Abbi? And why did she choose her?

After one particularly demanding email, Rebecca hesitated before replying.

She had to ask.

--

Subject: Re: Your daily assignment

Mistress,

Thank you for these emails. I look forward to them every day.

But, my curiosity is immense. Who are you? What makes you so interested in someone like me?

--

She hit send. Would Abbi be annoyed, or worse, withdraw entirely? The wait for her reply was agonizing.

About an hour later, it came.

Abbi's response was honest.

--

Subject: Re: Your daily assignment

Slut,

I've been waiting for you to ask.

I'm a young woman who deeply enjoys dominating and fucking married women like you.

Why? Because there is a thrill in exposing the raw desire that lies beneath your wedding ring.

It's not just about sex, although that, of course, is fun. It's also about the taboo. Your shame, your submission, your wet pussy.

To be blunt: I get off on it.

Now, back to your assignment.

Tell me precisely how you would debase yourself for me if you were right here in my living room, kneeling at my feet.

I want every filthy detail, fucktoy.

--

Soon, the back and forth of emails was too inefficient for Abbi. 'My toy needs to be available at my whim,' she texted Rebecca one afternoon, the curvy wife still not sure how Abbi got her phone number to this day.

Texting became their primary mode of communication. Quick, immediate bursts of dominance and submission. Abbi sent commands throughout Rebecca's day: 'Tell me about the panties you are wearing today, slut.' Or 'I need you to describe just how sloppy your pussy got during our session last night.'

Rebecca, initially overwhelmed with trying to balance her Mistress' demands with daily life, soon found pleasure in her obedience. Under Abbi's command, she found her fingers flying across her phone's screen, shocking herself with increasingly filthy responses.

Rebecca also began to refer to herself as Abbi instructed, the word "slut" now easy to say and no longer a source of any shame.

Her Mistress' texts grew even bolder. Abbi insisted on receiving photos, fairly modest at first, a bathroom mirror selfie of her lifting her dress, providing Abbi with a peek at her panties or a suggestive shot of her ample cleavage at her desk at work.

But these too became increasingly explicit.

'I want to see your tits right now,' Abbi once commanded, knowing Rebecca was on her weekend library trip with Hannah.

Then, Abbi updated her request. 'I don't want a bathroom mirror selfie either, library girl. Find an aisle and get those big titties out.'

Abbi frequently demanded photos that proved her sub's arousal. Rebecca quickly learned that pictures of a used, grooly dildo or of her wet panties always earned her praise from her Mistress.

Then, came the video calls. Abbi's proposition was very direct: 'I need to see your face when you come for me.'

Rebecca's first video call with Abbi was nerve racking. While Hannah was away, running a 5k, Rebecca sat in her dimly lit bedroom and complied, removing her clothes, item by item, until she was completely nude.

Predictably, the video calls also escalated.

Abbi directed Rebecca's attire, her actions and her orgasms. Eventually, she was proudly proclaiming that she was Abbi's 'depraved little whore' or her 'nasty little fucktoy' while she performed sex acts on herself, each explicit session, proof of her willing submission.

It was perfect.

Until, one Thursday evening, it all came crashing down.

When Hannah left for the gym, Rebecca and Abbi took advantage, jumping on a video call for another hot fuck session. Rebecca was feeling particularly horny and Abbi was happy to oblige, escalating things quickly for her eager slut.

Despite the call being less than 5 minutes old, Rebecca was already three fingers deep inside herself, confessing to her Mistress just how much of a 'needy little whore' she was tonight.

Suddenly, Rebecca heard the distinct, unexpected sound of the front door opening.

"Shit. She forgot her water bottle."

Panic seized Rebecca. She unceremoniously slammed the laptop shut and she scrambled to her feet. Rebecca managed to get her panties back on just as Hannah entered the living room.

"Hey, guess what your genius wife forgot..." Hannah said, stopping mid sentence when she saw Rebecca's flushed face and her lack of pants.

Rebecca tried to invent a believable explanation. "Just finishing up some online shopping," she stammered.

She was sure Hannah knew.

But Hannah simply shrugged as she grabbed her water bottle from the counter. "In your underwear? Weird." She turned and headed back out the door.

As soon as she heard the door close, Rebecca pulled out her phone. She opened their text thread and typed a short message to Abbi:

'i can't do this anymore. it was too close. hannah almost saw. i have to stop.'

Before Abbi could reply and talk her into reconsidering, Rebecca blocked her number and emails, successfully cutting her off completely.

Which is why, weeks later, Abbi was shocked to see the following email in her inbox.

--

Subject: Please, Mistress...

Mistress Abbi,

The memory of slamming my laptop shut on you is a moment that I will always regret deeply. Cutting you off was cowardly. I am truly sorry.

But the weeks since then have been quite interesting. My need to submit didn't disappear. I tried to ignore it, but it was a futile task.

Finally, I broke. I confessed everything to Hannah. The emails, the texts, the video calls.

What happened next was nothing short of magic. Because my sweet Hannah? She understands. Intimately. Viscerally.

That would be a miracle in and of itself, but get this. She asked me to share the dirty details of our sessions and she found them incredibly hot.

You see, Hannah feels the same desire to kneel, to obey.

So, here it is, the reason for this email: Mistress, would you ever consider taking us?

Both of us.

This time, not virtual.

All the way.

In person.

We are both sluts, Abbi. Two horny submissive wives who've finally realized our shared need for a Mistress.

We know this is a huge ask, an unusual request. But the idea of submitting to you, together, has become our shared fantasy.

Hand in hand, we are both yours to command, desperate to feel your harsh touch. If you will have us.

We eagerly await your response.

Your sluts,

Rebecca and Hannah

--

Rebecca refreshed her email with an obsessive frequency. After six long, torturous hours, Abbi's response finally came.

--

Subject: Re: Please, Mistress...

Rebecca and Hannah,

Your email is a masterpiece of desperation. The two of you, admitting your urge to submit together and referring to yourselves with such self awareness, has my mind racing with naughty possibilities.

So, yes, my needy little sluts, I will absolutely take you both.

I will warn you, if you spread yourselves open for me, I will explore every inch.

So, my depraved whores, start getting those married pussies of yours nice and wet for me. Next Saturday night at my place is going to be an experience you will never forget.

Your Mistress,

Abbi

--

As Saturday approached, Rebecca and Abbi quickly resumed their familiar sexting play. Hannah, however, found herself suddenly receiving explicit messages from her new mistress.

Abbi's first text to Hannah was blunt. 'Tell me, slut wife. What makes your pussy wet?'

Hannah, naturally shy, just stared at her phone. She was not used to such a deep intrusion into her most private thoughts.

Rebecca, seeing her wife's panicked look, offered her reassurance. "Just be honest, honey. Abbi wants to know what makes you tick."

Hannah nodded and typed out a reply, confessing a long held secret involving a collar and a leash. Abbi's response was swift and appreciative.

'Good girl, your honesty is a turn on.'

This continued throughout the week. Abbi's questions were probing and explicit, and always demanded an answer. It didn't take long for Hannah to find freedom in these confessions.

One afternoon, Abbi sent a photo of a black leather collar labeled with FUCK TOY to Hannah. 'Imagine this around your neck,' her text read.

Hannah snapped a photo of her neck and sent it back with the caption, 'Anything for you, Mistress.'

As Saturday approached, Hannah politely asked Abbi what she would prefer her sluts to be wearing on their date. Abbi simply challenged them to 'dress appropriately', choosing not to elaborate any further.

Rebecca and Hannah discussed Abbi's directions.

"Dress appropriately... it's still messing with my head. What do you even wear to be dominated for the first time?" Hannah asked rhetorically.

"So, I think 'appropriate' means we need to show her that we're both willing." Rebecca thought out loud.

"Something that shows some skin? Oh, what about that red sundress you have, the really sexy one? That's suggestive, right?" Hannah said with a somewhat wavering confidence.

"Yes, it does. But is it too obvious, Hannah? Maybe she wants us to be a little more subtle?"

"Subtle? After we begged her to fuck us in her email? I don't think subtlety is our strong suit anymore, Rebecca," Hannah chuckled.

Hannah thought a little more. "Wait... What if it's less about what we wear and more about what we don't?"

Rebecca's eyes widened. "You mean... go without...?"

"Yes... Wouldn't that be appropriate?" Hannah said excitedly.

"I think so... not to mention really naughty... Hannah! That's perfect!"

Saturday night finally arrived. Rebecca and Hannah's Subaru hatchback glided into a visitor parking space at The Luxe, Abbi's high end apartment building. The building was all sharp angles and tinted glass, it felt worlds away from Rebecca and Hannah's suburban home.

"How are you feeling about this, honey?" Rebecca asked Hannah.

"Terrified," she admitted. "Absolutely terrified. I could never do this alone, Rebecca. Never..." She sighed. "But with you... next to you... I can do this."

Together, they walked through The Luxe's entrance. The elevator ride to the 22nd floor was silent. The doors slid open, and Rebecca and Hannah slinked down the minimalist hallway.

Suddenly, they stood in front of the door of Abbi's unit 2209.

"Ready?" Rebecca asked her wife. Hannah nodded and Rebecca knocked.

The door to Abbi's apartment swung open. Abbi was youthful confidence in black heels. Her dark hair was pulled back with an almost severe precision into a high ponytail that underscored the no-nonsense expression on her face.

Her body was covered in a black fishnet bodysuit. The fine mesh stretched tightly over her arms, her breasts, her thighs, her ass. The opening between her legs was a blatant invitation.

Abbi was shorter and younger than Rebecca had perceived via their video calls. But what really struck Rebecca were her eyes -- they were dark, piercing, and filled with an intensity that hit differently in person.

"Close the door."

"Sundresses... Braless..." Abbi's eyes went immediately to the tell tale puckering of fabric over their nipples.

"Very good, my slut wives. You're already making yourselves accessible for me. Now, both of you, on your knees. My floor needs your attention."

They knelt, side by side, facing Abbi. Waiting for further instruction.

"Good girls... hands behind your backs..."

"Look at you both," Abbi tisked as they complied. "Two devoted wives... two pathetic little whores..."

Abbi paused, letting the room grow uncomfortably quiet.

"This isn't your familiar bedroom, is it? No soft whispers and gentle caresses here. This is a space for exploring desires that exist outside the boundaries of your boring marriage. So tell me, my eager wives, is the thought of being unfaithful making your married pussies wet already?"

"Yes, Mistress," Hannah whispered.

"Please, Mistress," Rebecca added. "We're ready. So ready."

"Really? Prove it." She extended her hand, palm up, as if she was expecting a gift. "Hand me your panties. Both of you. Now!"

Hannah glanced at Rebecca. "We can't do that, Mistress," she stammered.

Abbi wasn't pleased. "Can't? Or won't? Explain yourselves."

The wives' eyes met, silent understanding passed between them. Rebecca and Hannah each reached for the hem of their dresses and lifted them up, revealing their bare skin underneath.

"Well," Abbi purred, "It seems you might understand this game far better than I anticipated."

Rebecca and Hannah continued to kneel for Abbi, and she began to circle them slowly. Then, she said shocking words.

"Which one of you sluts is going to be the first to eat my pussy?"

Her eyes fell on Hannah. "Will it be you, perhaps, my blonde beauty? Are you going to bury your face between my legs, right in front of your loving wife?"

Hannah's head dropped in embarrassment while she shifted in obvious arousal.

Then, Abbi's attention moved to Rebecca. "Or maybe it will be you, my curvy whore? The one who willingly brought me into your marriage. Maybe I'll allow you to be the first to shatter the sanctity of your marriage on my sloppy altar."

Abbi continued her slow orbit. "Decisions, decisions," she said with some amusement. "Which slut wife should I initiate first into the art of infidelity?"

Abbi came to a stop.

"Well?" she prompted, "surely one of you is bursting to be the first to pleasure your domme? Do I have to ask for volunteers?"

Her direct question was met with silence. Neither of them were able to speak.

"Silence?... After the eagerness you both displayed at my door? After willingly offering yourselves with such... transparency? I must admit, slut wives, I'm quite disappointed. Did you mistake my invitation for a polite suggestion? Because let me assure you two whores, I rarely make requests."

Their silence stretched on. Abbi's patience reached its limit.

Without warning, her hand shot out, and her fingers gripped Hannah's blonde hair. "You'll do," Abbi stated unemotionally as she tugged sharply, forcing Hannah's face into her cunt.

Hannah closed her eyes tightly as she began to pleasure her mistress, as ordered. She gave cute, soft moans as Abbi's hips moved in a slow, deliberate rhythm, helping to guide Hannah's tongue.

Abbi looked over at the still kneeling Rebecca. "Look how devoted your faithful wife is to my pussy. Tell me, Rebecca... How does it feel to watch her pleasure another woman?"

Rebecca shifted on her knees, responding to the explicit scene unfolding before her.

"It's... hot, Mistress," she admitted, her eyes on Hannah's face, which was pressed tight against Abbi's folds. "It's incredibly hot."

Abbi watched, satisfaction in her eyes as she enjoyed Hannah's tongue.

Abbi clapped her hands. "Enough."

Hannah pulled back, and caught her breath.

"Your turn, cuntlicker." Abbi pointed to Rebecca, and then to her pussy.

As she scooted on her knees to Abbi, a wide, naughty smile hit Rebecca's pretty face. She was just given a gift she'd been waiting months for.

"... i've waited so fucking long to do this..." Rebecca whispered, her eyes full of lust.

Rebecca gripped Abbi's fishnet covered thighs for balance. Then, finally, Rebecca tasted her mistress. She absolutely savored the taste of Abbi, having fantasized about this moment countless times.

"Fuck, you lezzie wives sure know how to lick cunt."

Hannah gave a girlish giggle as her wife ate out their domme. "We have a lot of practice, Mistress."

Abbi nodded at Hannah. "Get up, slut wife," she commanded. "Come here. I want to taste myself on your lips."

Hannah pushed herself up from the floor and Abbi pulled her close. It was a possessive kiss, claiming the wife of the woman who was currently eating her pussy.

"That's right, little slut," Abbi moaned against Hannah's lips, addressing the curvier wife. "Use that tongue, bitch... And you, Hannah... push your wife's face deeper into my cunt."

Hannah's nervous hands moved to the back of Rebecca's head, and she gently pressed her face against Abbi's wetness.

Abbi pulled back from their kiss. "Your push lacks conviction. Far too hesitant. It's not the forceful command I know your whore wife craves."

"I'm sorry, Mistress..."

"Grab her," Abbi ordered. "Grab those dark curls and force her face deeper into me. Show her what she's been dreaming of."

Hannah hesitated, but Abbi's eyes communicated that she would not accept any disobedience.

Hannah reached out, and her fingers firmly wrapped around Rebecca's brunette curls. Rebecca felt Hannah's strong athletic grip tighten. Then, with a firm tug, Hannah pulled surprisingly hard, forcing Rebecca's face deeper into Abbi's messy pussy.

Rebecca gave a horny, grateful moan. This sex was dirty, rough and demanding, everything she had been craving. Finally, she was getting the treatment she desired. And, as a result, her body was absolutely on fire.

Abbi watched Rebecca's reaction with intensity. "That poor whimper," she mocked. "Is this making you wet?"

Rebecca tried to lift her head, to offer her domme an affirmative answer. But Abbi moved swiftly, her hands taking fistfuls of Rebecca's curls. Her strong grip was cruel, not allowing Rebecca any escape.

Abbi enjoyed Rebecca's tongue for a few more minutes and then, suddenly with a swift tug, she pulled Rebecca's face away from her cunt. Rebecca gasped for air and looked up obediently at her Mistress.

"Thank you for letting me lick your pussy, Mistress." she said, unprompted.

"You're welcome, you pussylicking whore..." Abbi's grip was still tight on Rebecca's curls.

"Hannah, lift up your dress for me, please."

"Yes, Mistress."

"Your lezzie wife needs to eat more cunt."

Instead of pushing Rebecca back into herself, Abbi pressed Rebecca's face firmly into Hannah's slit.

Hannah was just as surprised as Rebecca, her eyes widening with shock. She managed to keep the hem of her sundress lifted up, giving Rebecca the access she needed to comply with their domme's latest demand.

Abbi watched them fuck for her. Her expression was intense as her fingers shamelessly rubbed her folds.

"Tell me, bitch," she said to Rebecca, "how does it feel to be on your knees, servicing two women at once? To have your face buried in your wife while I watch and touch myself?"

"I... I love it... I fucking love it," Rebecca managed to say, her voice, just like her pussy, dripping with arousal. "I belong on my knees, servicing you and anyone else you ask me to, Mistress."

Rebecca's response pleased Abbi. "Well then, by all means, go ahead, pussylicker. Keep eating out your wife for me."

Rebecca's face grew slick with her mistress' and her wife's combined fluids, her carefully applied makeup completely ruined, smeared into abstract patterns across her face. Her hair, once neatly styled, was now wild and messy, courtesy of countless pulls.

"Enough," Abbi commanded again. She gestured for Rebecca to stand.

The two wives stood side by side and faced forward again, their bodies close.

Abbi circled them again. "Very good, married sluts. So eager to please, so obedient..." She stopped. "Now, take off your dresses."

"Yes, Mistress."

Rebecca and Hannah shrugged the dresses off their shoulders, letting them slide off their bodies and pool at their feet.

"Beautiful, both of you. Such exquisite differences."

Abbi focuses on the brunette. "Rebecca, my curvaceous beauty. Such large tits. And that smooth, shaved cunt, so hungry, so exposed." As she spoke, she took a handful of Rebecca's breast, and groped.

"Thank you, Mistress..." Rebecca said somewhat shyly.

Then, Abbi shifted her attention to the blonde. "And Hannah, my athletic darling. Look at those perky titties, so firm and high. And that neat little bush, quite the contrast to your slutty wife's boldness..."

"And that ass..." She moved behind Hannah, her hands fondling Hannah's firm, tight butt cheeks.

"Mmmmm... It's all yours, Mistress..." Hannah whispered.

"I know," Mistress Abbi answered.

She continued to circle them, casually touching them possessively.

"Rebecca, on your hands and knees. Ass up, head down. I want you to present yourself to me, fully and completely."

Rebecca obeyed without hesitation. She knew exactly what 'presenting' meant. It was a common command Abbi had given her during their video calls. She settled onto all fours, her pussy and her asshole fully and completely on display for Abbi's eyes.

"Yes, that's perfect... good girl."

Abbi then turned her attention back to Hannah. "And you, slut wife. Get on top of her. Facing the same way. I want you two both stacked and presenting for me."

Hannah complied, climbing onto Rebecca's back. She positioned herself carefully, her body eventually aligning with her wife's. It felt incredibly degrading to the blonde wife, but in the best possible way.

Abbi stepped back, allowing herself to admire her handiwork for a moment. "Perfect. Such obedient slut wives. Now, I have easy access to those beautiful asses... and to all of your perfect holes."

Then, without warning, Abbi's palm connected with the meat of Rebecca's ass. The slap echoed in the room. Rebecca gasped and then moaned.

Abbi's hand moved again, this time striking Hannah's tight rear. Hannah cried out.

Abbi alternated between them, her rhythm random and steady. Rebecca's cries were deeper, more primal, while Hannah's were higher, with a more feminine vulnerability.

"Beg me for it, beg me to continue. Beg me for my hand, my whores."

"Please, Mistress... More... harder..."

Hannah quickly followed suit, her voice softer. "Yes, Mistress... Please... We need your hand."

Abbi continued. The two women beneath her squirmed and moaned as their asscheeks turned crimson.

Then, abruptly, Abbi stopped. She knelt behind their exposed holes. A gasp escaped Rebecca and Hannah when they realized what was about to happen.

Abbi extended her tongue and traced a long, slow wet path across all four of their exposed openings.

From Rebecca's slick slit to her tight puckered hole, and then up Hannah's delicate folds, finishing on her most private opening. The sensation was intense.

Both women whorishly moaned as Abbi repeated her slow, deliberate licks, savoring the taste.

"Mmmmmm," she hummed. "Yummy... The combined taste of both of your married cunts is absolutely exquisite. This is something a girl could get very used to."

"Thank you, Mistress."

After applying more teasingly wet, slow licks, Abbi asked "So tell me, my sweet sluts, my obedient toys..." she paused to take one more lick, "do you crave more of my hand, or more of my tongue?"

"Please, Mistress," Rebecca begged. "Please, make us come. We're so close."

Hannah echoed her wife. "Yes, Mistress, please. Take us over the edge."

Mercy flashed in Abbi's brown eyes. "Perhaps I will allow you release... but as always, sluts, it will be on my terms."

She stepped away from the stacked women and into her hallway. She looked back over her shoulder.

"Follow me," she commanded, her hands gesturing to the stacked women. "On your hands and knees. Crawl for me, my little sluts. Into my bedroom. Quickly."

Once inside her room, Abbi stood at the foot of her impressive bed, watching as Rebecca and Hannah crawled to its edge.

"Up... side by side... And open your legs for me, my sluts. Wide open."

Rebecca and Hannah obeyed, their movements excited with their domme's promise to allow them climax. They settled onto her soft mattress, their bodies close, their thighs spread open.

Hannah looked at Rebecca, she noticed that her wife's eyes were teary with happiness. As Rebecca smiled back at her wife, she reached out and took Hannah's hand.

Abbi observed their soft gesture. In her heart of hearts, she was touched by such a tender, loving act in the middle of this collective debauchery.

But Abbi had a role to play.

"Which of you whores wants to come first?"

Hannah's fingers were intertwined tightly with Rebecca's. She looked at Abbi. "Please, Mistress," she whispered. "Start with Rebecca."

"How sweet," she half heartedly mocked Hannah softly. "Such devotion. Such a willingness to share."

Abbi knelt in between Rebecca's thighs, her hands traced her curves, and then she pushed them even wider apart. "And you, my curvaceous slut... You are a lucky woman indeed."

Then, Abbi lowered her head and she ate Rebecca out.

Abbi's skill was undeniable. She pushed every button, teased every nerve. Rebecca, already on the edge, rapidly approached orgasm.

Abbi's eyes noticed Hannah reaching down between her legs to touch herself. Abbi's hand shot out swiftly, her fingers smacking Hannah's.

"No! I did not grant you permission to touch yourself. You will wait. You will watch."

"I'm sorry, Mistress Abbi. I shouldn't have."

"Kiss her," Abbi demanded. "Kiss your slut wife while she comes all over my face..."

Hannah obeyed. It was her tender, loving kiss that pushed Rebecca over the edge. It was a powerful wave that wrecked Rebecca's entire body.

The curvy wife shuddered through aftershocks, and Abbi lapped her clean until Rebecca's body finally relaxed.

It was clear that Rebecca was completely spent. She laid back against Abbi's luxurious pillows, her eyes closed, her smile wide.

Abbi's attention shifted and she positioned herself between Hannah's open thighs. Her pretty face was wet with Rebecca's pussy. Abbi's hands moved and she forced Hannah's legs wider, exposing her fully.

Hannah's neat little bush was swollen and impossibly wet, and her fit thighs trembled with nervous anticipation.

"You're an eager little whore, aren't you? You want me to taste you, just like I tasted your wife, don't you?"

"Please, Mistress... I've been such a good little married slut for you... I've done everything you've asked of me... And I need to come so badly. It was so hot watching you fuck Rebecca... so incredibly hot. Please, do the same for me..."

"You're such a needy little whore. Very well."

And then, Abbi devoured Hannah. Abbi's mouth worked with intensity, and quickly drove Hannah to the edge. Hannah's moans escalated, and her body arched off the bed in extreme pleasure.

Hannah's orgasm hit her just as hard as her wife's. She came so hard she squirted, something that Abbi took a deep satisfaction in.

Hannah and Rebecca laid on Abbi's bed. They were spent.

"Well, I guess you're both completely useless to me now."

She said this softly and with a surprising understanding, making sure it was absolutely clear that she was okay with that fact.

She casually reached for her Hitachi on her bedside table.

The next day, Abbi woke up to the following email from her favorite married couple.

--

Subject: Wow...

Mistress Abbi,

We are still trembling.

"Thank you" feels inadequate for last night. Under your expert guidance, you completely shattered our expectations.

It was perfect. It was so dirty, so rough... everything we have both secretly wished to experience for years.

Being called your "slut wives" and your "married whores" as our tongues worshipped you was intoxicating. The sting of your hand on our asscheeks and your tongue on our holes, pure bliss.

Crawling naked into your bedroom and spreading for you on your bed so you could finish us both off expertly... unbelievable.

We must apologize for our failure to bring you to your own climax. We were so caught up in our own pleasure and submission that we neglected your needs.

Please forgive us, Mistress. We promise, we will never make that mistake again. Your pleasure will be our absolute priority.

It's only been hours since we fucked, and we are already desperate, kneeling with open mouths and dripping cunts, aching to submit to you again.

Please tell us when we can next serve you.

We are, and will always be, your devoted married whores.

In lust,

Rebecca and Hannah

P. S. This email was an absolute struggle to type. We're both so slick and needy now that we've decided we have no choice but to fuck each other senseless as soon as we hit send.

--

It wasn't long before a new text message notification pinged on Rebecca and Hannah's phones. They briefly paused their latest session to read Abbi's reply.

"Thank you for your sweet note, my horny little whores. It warmed my cold domme heart. I am free tomorrow night. I expect you to be at my door at 7pm sharp."

Another text followed almost immediately.

"To tide me over until then... I want two photos. An explicit photo of each of your faces nestled between the other's open thighs, lapping away. Tongues on pussies. My Hitachi is about to get another workout."

(Author note: If you made it this far, thank you! I truly hope you enjoyed it! I'm always looking for feedback, if you have a thought or two, please share with a comment or a note! Thanks again!)