as swishing it to and fro while Maz rubbed gold-flecked lotion all over my bare flesh, which took some time.
‘So you’re feeling brave?’ Maz asked gently, reaching deep down into my cleavage and working the ointment in. ‘You want to go through with what we talked about?’
‘I think so. Dressed like this makes me want to even more. Funny how just changing clothes can get you into a mindset.’
‘It’s good, isn’t it?’ Justin grinned, wrapping the leather fronds of the whip around one of the bedposts with a flick of the wrist. ‘How something as simple as showing a lot of skin can make a person feel submissive. And when you add collars and cuffs to that …’
‘It’s a bit like magic,’ I agreed. ‘Before a word’s been said, I want to kiss somebody’s feet.’
‘Kiss mine if you like,’ offered Maz, giggling.
They were cute feet, toes wriggling in gladiator sandals, but I decided to pass for the moment.
‘Maybe later. You look great too, by the way.’
In her abbreviated silk toga and richly-jewelled cloak, she looked imperious and impish at the same time. I supposed that was the trick of switching. The opulent cloths were mistressy enough, but the teeny toga hem was perfect for flipping up and delivering an impromptu spanking. She could go either way tonight.
‘Right then, you two,’ said Justin, bored of practising his whip hand on the bedposts. ‘Bend over the end of the bed and let’s give this a proper trial run.’
‘Both of us?’ squealed Maz.
‘Of course. Bottoms bared, please. I want you both going downstairs with noticeable markings. Besides, I think a little warm-up is a sensible idea, don’t you?’
I exchanged a glance with Maz and we both giggled, adjusting our skirts as required before lining up at the foot of the bed and bending at identical angles.
‘Ten from this side and ten from the other should give you a nice even glow each,’ surmised Justin.
He started off on Maz’s corner, which meant that my bottom caught the stinging knotty ends of the lash, heating it more quickly than my partner-in-submission’s. It was sharp but manageable, as lashes go, and quickly transformed to a spread of warmth that permeated both cheeks. I hissed and wriggled my hips with each descent of the whip, while Maz seemed to be positively enjoying herself, sighing and pushing back to heighten the sensation.
‘I won’t have my slave girls let me down tonight,’ said Justin in a low growl. ‘So let this be a warning. You will remember to be well-behaved, obedient and submissive at all times, unless I give you explicit permission to dominate another slave – which only applies to you, Marianne. As for Keris – you are here to serve tonight, and you needn’t forget it.’
He laid the tenth stroke, a sizzler, then changed positions so that he stood just behind me. Now Maz was getting the evil ends of the martinet while I found the throbbing in my rear enhanced and heated by the stroke of the thong tops.
Like Maz earlier, I began to moan with pleasure, wanting it harder, perhaps wanting a little spark of sting between my pussy lips. I spread my thighs and thrust my arse out as far as I could. Once Justin had dealt the final ten, he chuckled and sent his lash curling sweetly and painfully inside my thighs so that I gasped and jumped up, clutching the bedpost.
‘You didn’t really want that, did you, sweetheart?’ He laughed.
‘I like the idea of it,’ I confessed, rubbing my swollen clit furiously.
‘The reality is quite painful,’ agreed Maz. ‘But you’ll feel incredibly turned on all night now – take my word for it. A whipped pussy is a hot pussy.’
And that’s what I was to be for the night. A pussy for fucking and an arse for whipping.
All my fantasies were coming true, week by week, in rapid succession. I had to stop and remember how long I had known these people – under a month. How had I come this far, this fast? I must have wanted it badly, more badly than I knew.
For a seasick moment, I thought of Stuart, out there on the ocean wave. Would he have brought me here? Oddly enough, I wasn’t sure he would.
But he had made his choice, and now I was making mine.
‘Are your nipples rouged?’ Justin asked us anxiously. ‘And your labia?’
‘Mine don’t need any reddening now,’ I said, pressing tentative fingertips against the inflamed flesh.
‘I guess not. Is your collar OK? Not too tight?’
‘It’s fine.’
‘Are you nervous?’