Speaker 1: Welcome back to part two of this sexy story. The
hours after that first curled finger detonation blurred into a
smear of sensation and sound. My body stopped being a
body and became a raw nerve, a thing that responded
without asking permission. The leather beneath my cheek grew warm
and wet with tears and drool. Across from me, Rosa's
face kept shifting agony, ecstasy, something beyond both, and I
held onto her gaze like a lifeline, even as the
dominas worked to sever every other tether. I had to
dignity Mistress Sloane's fingers withdrew. I felt the absence like
a loss, my whole clenching around nothing, and the sound
I made was pitiful, a whimper, a plea. She fed
the finger into my mouth and said, taste it, taste
the filth of your dirty asshole. I did. I lapped
her gloved fingers, tasting my sweaty, stinking asshole. She smiled
as she fed me. Oh, she's hungry now, Mistress Valeria observed,
stepping back from Rosa's bench, Her gloves came off with
a slick snap. They both are look at these desperate
little holes, Sloane gaping and begging. Pathetic. Mistress Sloane agreed.
She walked to a cabinet I hadn't noticed before, its
surface gleaming under the low light. The click of its
opening was a promise. We'll need something more substantial. Fingers
are for beginners, My heart slammed. Rosa's eyes widened, the
whites showing all around her irises. Mistress Valeria crouched between
our benches, her dark bob swinging forward as she looked
from Rosa to me. Here's what happens now. We're going
to fuck you, both of you with silicone, with our hands,
with our mouths, if we choose, and you're going to
watch each other take it every single second. She paused,
letting her gaze settle on me. You came here as
a couple. You'll leave here having watched your girlfriend get
fucked by someone else, having watched her come on a
stranger's cock while you lie helpless three feet away, and
she'll watch the same I couldn't breathe. The jealousy should
have been there, some possessive flare at the thought of
another woman, making Rosa cry out. Instead, something darker unspooled
in my chest, a thrill so sharp it made my
thighs tremble against the restraints. Rosa's lips formed my name soundless.
You want that, Mistress Sloane said, returning with a silicone
fallice that caught the light. Not absurdly large, deliberately chosen
something that would fit with effort, with surrender, with the
kind of stretch that would leave a memory. You want
to watch her get taken. I can see it in
the way your cunt just pulsed. Filthy girl. She was right,
God help me, she was right. Mistress Valeria took a
matching toy from the cabinet. They moved in synchrony, positioning
themselves behind our angled benches. I heard the lubricant again,
the wet sound of silicone being slicked alice first, Mistress
Sloane announced, Rosa, you will watch, and you will not
look away. If you close your eyes, we stop for
the night. You'll be untied and sent home with nothing.
Do you understand, yes, Mistress Rosa whispered, Her voice was wrecked,
hoarse from crying. The blunt head of the toy pressed
against me, not a finger this time, thicker, more demanding,
My body knew the decifference immediately and seized. A sharp
slap landed on my ass, then another open. Mistress Sloane hissed,
you don't get to decide any more. Your body accepts
what we give it. That's the whole lesson. Stop fighting.
The third slap undid me. The silicone pushed past the
outer ring, and I screamed, a real scream, torn from
somewhere primal. The stretch was immense, a burning pressure that
bordered on pain, but didn't quite cross over my vision tunnel.
All I could see was Rosa's face, her mouth open
in sympathetic agony, tears streaming fresh. Look at her take
in it, Mistress Valeria crooned, her hand resting on Rosa's
lower back. Look at your girlfriend's ass swallowing a cock.
Does it make you jealous? Rosa? Does it make you wet?
Rosa sobbed, yes, yes, what, yes, Mistress, it makes me wet.
The toy sank deeper. Mistress Sloane didn't rush. She let
me feel every inch, every ridge, the way my body
had to yield and reshape around the intrusion. When she
finally seated it fully, I was panting my fingers clawing
at the cuffs, my clit a swollen drumbeat of need.
Then she began to fuck me with it, slow, deep
strokes that pulled sounds from me. I didn't know I
could make wet, obscene sounds punctuated each thrust. The room
smelled of silicone and sweat and sex. Now rosa. Mistress
Valaria said, I watched. I watched the toy breach her,
watched her back arch, watched her mouth stretch around a
silent howl, watched her take inch after inch until Mistress
Valeria was buried to the hilt, and something broke open
inside me, some wall between love and voyeurism, between cherishing
her and needing to see her debased. I wanted to
crawl inside her, and I wanted to watch her be destroyed.
And both desires were the same, desire, two faces of
one terrible, beautiful coin. They fucked us in tandem, sometimes
matching rhythms, sometimes deliberately out of sync, so one of
us was being thrust into while the other hung suspended
in the drag of withdrawal. Mistress Sloane found that spear
again with unerring precision, and I came screaming. My orgasm,
a detonation that left me shaking for minutes. Afterward. Rosa
followed moments later, her cry a mirror of mine. But
they didn't stop. Did we say you could rest? Mistress
Valeria's voice was ice. We're going to wring every last
drop from these greedy little bodies. You don't get to
decide when it's over. Hours. It must have been hours
the toys came out. New ones appeared, Plugs that stretched
and stayed, buzzing, Vibrators pressed to my clit while the
plug filled my ass, Mistress Sloane's palm cracking across my
cheeks until the skin burned. At some point I don't
know when they unstrapped me and repositioned me on my back,
legs pushed wide and hooked into new restraints, And I
watched upside down as Rosa was bent over her own
bench and tongue fucked by Mistress Valeria while Mistress Sloane's
mouth descended on me. The degradation was constant, a running
current of words that wore grooves into my psyche. Look
at this sloppy cunt, she's dripping down her own thighs. Disgusting.
You paid for this you paid us to treat you
like the worthless holes you are. Tell her, Alice, tell Rosa,
she looks beautiful with a stranger's tongue in her ass.
And I did. The words came out of me, hoarse
and broken, and Rosa moaned at the sound of them.
You look beautiful, I gasped, God, Rosa, you look so
fucking beautiful. Something shifted in her eyes when she heard that,
even through the haze of sunsation, even through the tears
and the sweat and the trembling, I saw her heart
crack open and pour light onto me. They made us
come until we couldn't anymore, until my body was a
hollowed out shell of aftershocks, quivering at the gentlest touch,
until Rosa's voice was gone entirely, her throat raw from screaming.
And still Mistress Sloane ran a gloved finger along my swollen,
oversensitive clit, and still I jerked, and still she laughed.
You'll feel this tomorrow, she promised, every step you take,
every time you sit down, you'll remember who owns these holes.
You paid for the memory. We made sure it sticks.
Dawn was breaking when we limped out of the club.
The city was gray and quiet, the kind of early
morning hush that feels like a held breath. Rosa's hand
was in mine, her grip loose but present. We moved slowly,
every muscle ached. Sitting would be a negotiation for days.
I could still feel the phantom fullness, the stretch, the
way my body had been reshaped around intrusion. After intrusion,
we didn't speak in the cab. The driver didn't look
at us. Maybe he'd seen worse. Maybe we just looked
like two exhausted women heading home. Our apartment was quiet.
The bed we fell into was our own, soft and
familiar and almost aggressively normal. After room seven, we lay
facing each other, inches apart, the morning light painting pale
stripes across the sheets. I reached out and touched her cheek.
Her skin was salt, dried, still flushed, enjoy it. Rose's
lips curved, the smile reached, her eyes, tired and luminous
and utterly devastatingly hers worth every penny a pause. Her
voice was sandpaper and honey. Same time next week, I
leaned in our foreheads, touched our breath, mingled, you got it, baby.
Her mouth found mine. The kiss was soft, tender. My
hand slid into her hair, and she made a small
sound against my lips. And we stayed there, tangled and
bruised and glowing, as the sun climbed higher and the
world outside our bedroom went on, not knowing what we'd done,
what we'd become, what we were going to do again again.
I hoped you enjoyed today's sexy story. If you love
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you want to hear. Maybe we can make your dirty
dreams come true. See you soon. H