Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
A quick look at the watch told me that my adventures this morning had taken up quite some time, as it was already half past ten. “Why don’t you show Paisy a bit of the farm while I start cooking?” Erin didn’t wait for my opinion, jumping up from Bridget’s lap and grabbing my hand. “We’ll be back inside at twelve!” Crossing the threshold to the outside world nude felt strange, but my friend simply pulled me through the door and there I was, blinking my eyes in the glaring sunlight and experiencing a whole new level of self-consciousness. “What if somebody comes by?” I hastily asked and covered my boobies with my arm. “Nobody’s going to come by, silly.” Erin sighed and tugged at my hand. “It’s Sunday, so everybody’s at church or holed up at home. And what does it matter anyway.” She turned around and stepped close to me, trailing her fingers up the outside of my thighs. Goose bumps instantly followed her touch. “You agreed to be our little sex slave. Should a slave have any say in that matter?” My cheeks flushed. “N – no.” But strangers seeing me? I wasn’t sure if that wasn’t more than I could bear. Her head tilted a bit, and her lips wrapped around my right nipple. The sensation of her moist lips made it instantly stiffen, and I almost groaned in dismay when she let go of it. “You’re quite the sexual thing, you know. But now that I think about it, shouldn’t a plaything address her mistress properly?” “What do you mean?” “I want you to call me Ma’am or Mistress Erin today, just so our roles are clear. Don’t you think that’s a good idea?” That was kinky. Addressing my petite, frail looking friend that way seemed, at the first glance, entirely inappropriate, but that strange heat between my legs seemed to appreciate the idea. And even while I took a deep breath and readied myself, she seemed to become less frail in my eyes. “Yes, yes it is, Ma’am.” She grabbed my hand again. “Good. Come on, I want to introduce you to Martha.” “Martha?” I choked, a wave of self-consciousness washing over me. “But you said nobody’s going to be outside!” She didn’t seem to hear my protest, and so I was pulled after her, dreading to meet this Martha, whoever she was. We stopped in front of a mesh-wire fence that enclosed an area of about a hundred feet in each direction and had a small wooden hut in the center. Chicken were scuttling to and fro, pecking at the ground and bumping into each other, cackling and chirping. “Martha! Come here!” Erin shouted, clapping her hands a few times. On cue, a fat, black chicken with white spots all over its feathers raced across the mud, beating its wings and cackling like mad. She bent down and stuck her finger through the mesh. Instead of pecking at it, the chicken rubbed its head against it. “This is Martha, my personal chicken and my first pet,” Erin declared as if having a tame chicken was the most natural thing in the world. “Oh.” My response was just as elaborate as my thoughts were at this moment. “Come on, you can pet her too.” I looked at her, wondering if she was setting me up to get pecked, but she just smiled at me and waved her hand. “Martha doesn’t mind, really.” So I bent down and reached through the mesh with my finger like Erin had done. The chicken, aware that this finger belonged to a different person, cocked its head to the sides a few times and eyed it critically. I almost pulled it back when it touched its pointy beak to it, but then it rubbed the side of its head against my extended digit and cooed. Then I almost fell against the fence when Erin’s hand touched the tops of my thighs between my legs, and I had to grip the mesh with my other hand to keep myself steady. “Erin!” I exclaimed, startled. Her response was to slap my bum, which drew a pained gasp from me. “What did we agree you would call me?” “I’m sorry, Mistress Erin!” “And don’t you forget it, or we’ll have to find an appropriate punishment for you. Now keep petting Martha.” Martha was quickly at the back of my mind though. Erin’s fingers trailed up and down my thighs, coming closer and closer to my pussy lips and leaving behind pleasant tingles on my skin. When she finally brushed against them my knees buckled and the small moan that escaped my throat gave away my arousal. “You’re quite a horny thing,” she commented while she teased the outside of my lips, “I’m going to have so much fun keeping your cunt wet all day.” “Please,” I moaned, not minding anymore that we were outside in broad daylight, almanbahis şikayet “please stick them inside me.” “Did you just say something?” Her tone was playful, but it held a hint of sharpness. I had to think for a moment before I got the message. “Please stick them inside me, Mistress?” “You want me to stick what where?” Her fingernails scratched over the sensitive flesh, making my hips jerk. My cheeks flamed, but the need was reaching a level that took away all my inhibitions. All I wanted at that moment was to feel her delicate fingers inside my dripping love tunnel. “Please stick your fingers in my pussy, Mistress Erin!” “All of them?” “Oh god, no! That would tear me apart!” “Gosh, you’re so amusing.” One finger divided the folds of my labia and started to caress the soft flesh there. I shuddered under the touch. “What will you allow me to do if I grant you the wish?” We were stepping onto dangerous ground, and I hesitated. Until her finger tickled my clit and the word flew from my lips without conscious thought. “Anything!” A quick look over my shoulder showed me that Erin was biting her lower lip with devious grin. “Okay,“ she drawled after a little while, “that’s the deal. If I stick my finger into your snatch, you’ll allow me to tie you up while I show you around until lunchtime.” The word ‘snatch’ raised goosebumps along my spine. For all her sweet, fragile looks, she had quite a potty mouth, and something wicked stirred inside me every time she called me or my body parts dirty names. “Tie me up, Ma’am?” I asked a bit hesitantly, glad to remember the honorific. “Ever heard about bondage?” “Uh huh,” I nodded, “I – I’ve read a few stories… but isn’t that about making someone immobile?” “It can be, but sometimes it’s only about making a part of someone immobile. Like the arms or legs.” “Oh.” In the stories that had mentioned bondage the ‘victims’ had always been tied down to the bed, or in one case, a leather bench. If she wanted to continue showing me around, she could only bind my arms, which wouldn’t be that bad. “Okay.” “Okay?” “Uhm.” How do you tell someone that you’ll agree to be tied up if they finger your pussy? My thoughts spun in all directions for a moment, but Erin gladly helped me out of my dilemma. “You want me to finger-fuck your pussy and then tie you up?” “Yes, Ma’am,” I agreed enthusiastically. “Then ask me to, in a whole sentence!” I felt self-conscious as I did so, but I was so horny I quenched the worst my insecurities and stammered with a dark blush, “Please, Mistress Erin, would you finger-fuck my pussy and tie me up later?” “Okay,” she piped, as if this was the most normal thing in the world, “grab the railing of the fence and push out your bum.” So I was soon standing in the middle of their property, my hands clutched around the horizontal bar at the top of the fence, my upper body almost level with the floor and my feet shoulder width apart, flushed and aroused. “Here it comes,” she warned, and a second later the tips of two fingers wiggled into my pussy. “Oh my god,” I moaned when Erin pushed them inwards, “please don’t stop!” She giggled. “Would never dream of stopping, my little finger puppet.” Finger puppet, that was exactly like I felt when her digits were all the way inside me and she twisted them left and right. Hot shivers raced through my pussy and made the tops of my legs tremble. Then she started to move them in and out, making me moan and grunt every time she pushed them forcefully inside me. “Tell me when you’re about to come.” That didn’t take long. The knowledge that some stranger could enter the property at any and see me get finger-fucked by my friend was like an aphrodisiac, and my skin tingled every time the thought raced through my mind. “Oh my god,” I groaned, “I’m going to…” The words died on my lips when Erin’s fingers slipped out of me. “We didn’t say anything about actually coming, did we?” I whimpered. “Please, Erin!” I begged, wiggling my bum and wishing for her to finish what she had started. “No. I want you worked up.” Her voice sounded final. I sighed in defeat. “Don’t be like that,” she pouted, “you agreed to everything, after all.” “You tricked me!” “And what if?” There was no winning a discussion over this devious waif of a girl. “C’mon, let’s get you tied up!” She grabbed my forearm and pulled me away from the fence and towards the huge barn. We had to cross a small driveway covered with pointy gravel, almanbahis canlı casino and the small stones stung like hell in the soles of my feet. I tugged at her arm, begging her to go slower, but she just told me not to be a baby and hurry up. The inside of the barn was already hot, and dust danced in the sheets of light that fell through the gaps in between the planks of wood. A part of it was divided off, but most of it was a big, open space with a number of interspersed wide posts that carried the ceiling. Horizontal beams ran between those posts and held pulleys, ropes and hooks from which all kinds of tools dangled. Erin went determinedly to one of those hooks and pulled down a few rolls of thick hemp rope. I almost took a step backwards when she approached me, a fierce glint in her eyes. “I’m so glad you agreed to let me try this, slut,” she told me while she measured the lengths of rope with her arms, holding each one up one end and then pulling it through her hand until both arms were extended. “Good, that will do. Now stand still and let me wrap you up.” I did as she asked, but with trepidation. I had no idea what she had in mind, and I eyed the rough hemp with distrust, wondering if it would chafe me. She started by wrapping the end of a rope around my left wrist a few times and tied it up in an elaborate knot. “It’s a special knot,” she explained, “it doesn’t tighten on its own. Those hemp ropes are bitches; if you use a normal knot, you have to cut them loose.” My other wrist was similarly adorned, and then she made me bend my arms and guided both behind my back, crossing each other, my hands pointing upwards. The ropes went over my shoulders and she went to my front, where she gave them a quick yank. “Ow!” I protested. “That hurts!” “Just a bit, don’t be a sissy!” She tied both ropes together with a single knot and took up the slack again so it came to rest between my breasts, and I whimpered only a little this time, which she rewarded with a sweet smile. Then she proceeded to wrap one rope around my left breast while she held the knot in place. One, two, three, even a fourth round of hemp was wrapped around my boob. She didn’t make it particularly tight, but when I looked down, my breast was considerable constricted at its base and stood straight away from my body. I wouldn’t have called the sensation unpleasant; it was nothing more than a constant pull. My right boob got the same treatment, and she tied off the ends at the impromptu shoulder straps. “There, all done!” Erin exclaimed and twirled around on the spot. I wondered why she sounded so exuberant. I had to admit that my arms were rather uncomfortable and that my boobs felt like they were pulled and squeezed a bit, and the way they completely defied gravity might look interesting. Then she put her hands around my boobs and started to massage them while her lips attached themselves to my right nipple and sucked on it. My arousal was quickly racing towards it peak again and my breath grew ragged. My devious friend stopped her ministrations just when things got exciting. When I looked down at my boobs, they had taken on a bright red color. “It’s the blood,” she piped in explanation, “it flows into your tits when you’re aroused, but it can’t flow back fast enough with the rope, so they swell up and get hyper sensitive.” “And how long will I have to wear this,” I gestured to the ropes with my chin and, at the last minute, remembered to address her correctly, “Mistress Erin?” “Probably until lunch. I don’t think Bridget wants us to have to feed you, but you never know.” This was all so crazy. I shook my head and found that Erin already was on her way outside again. I hurried after her, my movement awkward with my arms unable to move. Erin continued showing me the farm, once more acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary – at least mostly. From time to time, she would tease or kiss my nipples, which did in fact get more sensitive by the minute. The red color of my boobs darkened too, and they swelled up quite a bit. I was shown the vegetable garden, the fruit trees, the tool shed and the small pond right beside a patch of trees that was fed by a small brook. We were just cooling our feet and trying to hit the midges sitting on the surface with small pebbles when our landlady’s voice sounded in the distance. “Paisy, Erin, lunch is ready!” “Coming!” Erin shouted back. “Come on, let’s hurry back, she almanbahis casino doesn’t like it when we dawdle.” She raced ahead, and I tried to follow her, slower and careful not to trip with my limited ability to move. She stopped after twenty yards or so and waited for me, and I smiled at her, only to yelp when a sharp slap hit my bum. “Ow,” I exclaimed, “what was that for?” “For not running fast enough!” Another slap hit my backside. “Come on, faster!” So she drove me towards the house, slapping my bum every few steps. I really tried to run as fast as I could with my bound arms, but I was no match for Erin’s lithe body. Her feet didn’t even seem to touch the ground. We finally arrived at the house, out of breath and sweaty, and hurried into the kitchen where the table was already set and a big pot of something that smelled deliciously of beef and spices waited in the middle. Bridget stood next to the counter, a wooden spoon in her hand and eyed us warily. “Took you two long enough! You knew that lunch would be ready, you should have kept close to the house.” “But Bridget,” Erin pleaded, “I had to show the pond to Paisy.” “No buts,” our landlady cut her short, “get your tummy over the chair. You know the drill.” Erin huffed and proceeded to fold her upper body over the backrest of the chair, presenting her bum for punishment. She grinned and winked at me. Bridget didn’t hesitate, as soon as her lodger had taken her place, she let the spoon rain down on her pert bum. Erin whined and kicked her legs, and after the tenth stroke of the spoon, wailed as if she was stabbed to death. I could see her grinning though, even if she winced from time to time. Finally, our landlady let up, and Erin got up from the chair, pretending to sniffle and wipe her face. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” Bridget admonished her, “stop putting on a show for your friend, or I’ll use the leather sap on your thighs next time.” This made her swallow audible, and with small “yes, Bridget,” she lowered her eyes. “Now to you, little lady,” Bridget turned her eyes to me, “you’d normally get the same amount of swats to your lovely little bottom. But, seeing the nice way your tits present themselves, I think we can add a little variation today.” My eyes grew big and I took a step backwards. “My boobies?” She smiled sweetly at me. “I won’t hit that hard, but I’ve always wanted to smack a pair of beautiful titties like yours. Erin’s are too small to keep me entertained for long. You’re not trying to refuse, are you?” I shook my head. I really wanted to turn on the spot and race out of the house, but a part of me was fascinated by the crazy idea that someone would strike my tender tits with a wooden spoon. I trembled a bit, but I could already feel my juices start to flow again. Bridget’s eyes sparkled, and the first swat came as a total surprise, a soft, smacking sound announcing the sharp pain that shot through my left boob a second later. Another smack sounded, and my right boob started to hurt too. She was true to her words, she didn’t hit all that hard, but my breasts were quite sensitive by now and stung fiercely. Her practiced hand distributed the smacks evenly all over my dark red, swollen boobs, and each smack made me wince and scrunch up my nose. The last two fell on my nipples, and they really hurt; I was close to tears and trembling when she was done. “There, there,” she soothed me and stroked my cheek, “it’s all done and forgotten. Erin, free your roommate now, or lunch will get cold.” “Yes, Bridget.” Her deft fingers needed less than a minute to open all the knots and pull away the ropes. I winced when I extended my arms; my shoulders had gotten quite sore by this point, and my elbows cracked audibly. Lunch was good. However strange my landlady was otherwise, she was a brilliant cook, and I helped myself to a second serving. “Bridget?” Erin broke the silence somewhere in between while I was taking a gulp of water. “Yes, Erin?” “Do you think I could stick my whole hand inside Paisy’s cunt?” I choked on the water and almost sprayed the table with it, managing just in time to bring up my napkin and cough into it. “Why would you want to know that?” “I was fingering her cunt earlier, and she was worried that sticking in my whole hand would tear her pussy apart.” I looked down at the floor, my face pulsing with shame. “You fingered her? Did you let her come?” “No, Bridget, of course not.” Erin sounded a bit annoyed. “I’m just making sure. Remember what we talked. But yes, if you take your time, I’m sure you could stick your whole hand inside our slut’s cunt. You’ve got small hands, and a pussy can stretch a lot.” Erin appeared giddy when she heard that answer.
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32