Menage a Trois Pt. 03

Literotic asexstories – Menage a Trois Pt. 03 by SadMasch,SadMasch
“Ugh!” said Kate, as she slammed the car door shut. She looked across at Carrie, who was settling herself down in the front passenger seat. “That really was …. Ugh!”

Carrie made a face. “Long live the patriarchy!” she laughed. “The patronising bastard!”

“It took all my self-control to stop me kneeing him in the balls as we were leaving. All that stuff about how he would only use us for female staff because he couldn’t trust our ability to interview male employees properly!”

Carrie made an effort to calm herself down. “Never mind, love. We got what we came for. Isabella and Carmen will both get six months of guaranteed work, at decent rates of pay.”

“And he didn’t notice the sexual harassment clause in our contract, which authorises us to use an all-female arbitration panel.”

“He’s in for a shock if he lets his hands wander at the wrong time.”

“It’s all good,” concluded Kate, as she turned the ignition key. “Now, what’s the next item on the agenda.”

“Skivvy,” said Carrie. “We really need to get some kit if we’re going to do him justice. Your riding crop is too much, and a clothes brush lacks … I don’t know … class?”

“Kimbills should be able to help, don’t you think?” Kate suggested, referring to the emporium where they bought the variety of sex toys and lubricants with which they brightened their time in bed together.

“Kim’s a good sort,” Carrie agreed. “Let’s try her, rather than go online.”

The shop was in a lane off the High Street, hiding behind a discreet frosted glass storefront which was designed — at the insistence of the prudes who ran the local council — to hide the nature of the goods on sale. Kate and Carrie marched briskly into the shop, where they were greeted warmly by both the owners, Kim and Bill, an androgynous couple whose matter-of-fact approach to the mind-boggling variety of sexual tastes of their clientele had made them a permanent fixture in the town for the past fifteen years.

“Good morning ladies,” Kim smiled. She waited for them to tell her what they wanted. Her years in the business had taught her not to prompt their customers. Bill, having smiled politely, disappeared into the storeroom at the back of the shop.

Kate and Carrie looked at each other, not sure who should be the spokesperson. Finally, Kate took the initiative.

“You do sell canes, and paddles, don’t you Kim?”

“We do indeed, my dear,” Kim replied. She had had long, intimate conversations with both Kate and Carrie before selling them the lubricants, vibrators and dildos which they used, and viewed them more as friends than as customers. “We’ve got a wide selection. Some just playful, others quite severe.”

“Oh severe, I think,” said Carrie.

Kim smiled. “Who’s been naughty then?” she asked with comic archness.

“It’s a long story,” Kate replied.

“I’ve got the time,” Kim assured her. “It’s usually quiet on a Saturday morning, so if you want to…”

Kate and Carrie told her about Toby, how he eavesdropped on their conversation, and volunteered to be their skivvy if they spanked his bottom every day. “I know it’s bloody weird,” Carrie concluded, “but we’ve used Kate’s riding crop on him, hard, and he still wants to stay with us, so we thought we should get some stuff that’s designed to treat him the way he wants to be treated.”

“It’s not as weird as you think, love,” Kim assured her. “If a person has an overwhelming need to submit and be punished, they have little alternative but to approach someone who they think might be suitable. Our society frowns on people who beat other people, so people who would be happy to punish are reluctant to go public about it. And society pities, or worse, treats with contempt, people whom they call masochists, so your Skivvy was very brave to take the chance of asking you, and you’ve been very adventurous in taking him up on his offer, even though you are embarrassed by the thought that you might enjoy doing so. We went through something similar. I’ll show you.” She raised her voice. “Bill,” she called out.

Her partner hurried back from the storeroom. Like Kim, he was in his early fifties, but while she was tall, broad-shouldered and muscular, he was short, slim and rather effeminate. “Yes dear,” he murmured.

“These ladies are in the market for implements to warm a man’s bottom,” she told him. “What would you recommend?”

“Well, I suppose the basic tool would be a good leather paddle,” Bill suggested. “And a schoolmaster’s cane if you wanted something that hurt a lot more.”

“Is that what you had in mind ladies?” Kim asked. “Or would you like more variety?”

“What about straps?” Kate asked, looking at a couple of tawses displayed in a cabinet at the back of the shop.

“A good alternative to the cane, miss,” Bill replied. “Tawses come in various weights and lengths, and then you have solid straps like the ones they used to use in old-fashioned prisons in the southern US states, some with holes in them, others solid.”

“We don’t have all of them in stock, do we Bill?” Kim frowned.

“No dear, but we’ve got a supplier who will make up what these ladies would like within a week.”

“Golly, it’s all pretty overwhelming,” murmured Carrie.

“Well, we don’t have to buy all of them, do we?” Kate argued. “The question is, how much will they hurt, and how much do we want them to hurt?”

“What’s this Skivvy of yours like?” Kim enquired. “Is he some sort of hunk who you’d find hard to hurt?”

Carrie shook her head. “No.” She looked at Bill. “He’s more your size and shape. But younger.”

Kim looked at Bill. He gave a slight nod.

“For customers like you, we could let you try before you buy,” she suggested.

“You mean take a lot of these things back with us, and bring back the ones we don’t want?” Carrie asked.

Kim shook her head. “I was just going to offer Bill’s bottom for you to test a few of the items we have.”

“You’re kidding!” laughed Kate.

“Not at all,” Kim assured her. “I wasn’t joking when I said that there was nothing weird about men wanting to be punished. I went into business more than twenty years ago, and Bill was my first employee. He was sloppy then, and I was going to fire him. He begged me not to and offered to take a good thrashing for every fault that I found. Once he had convinced me that he was sincere, I took him up on his offer. We became partners five years later. He’s been getting regular hidings all this time, and he’s just about due one now.”

“Well, that’s certainly a level of customer service I never expected!” Carrie cried.

“We aim to please,” Kim replied. “And Bill could use a bit of variety, especially from folks like you, who have no sexual interest in him.”

“What about you Bill?” Kate asked him. “How do you feel about being volunteered like this?”

“I have to say I’m honoured to be of service,” He replied, casting a glance at Kim. “Especially since I dare not go against Kim’s wishes.”

“I’ve been planning to make sitting difficult for him,” Kim explained as she went to the shop door, locked it, and stuck up a sign saying, “Closed For Lunch”. “So what he doesn’t get from you two, he’ll be getting from me this evening.”

She led the way through the back of the shop, up to the flat on the first floor where she and Bill lived.

“You know, we’re not doing this for the first time,” she explained, as Kate and Carrie followed her up the stairs, with Bill trailing behind them. “Of course, most people buy one or two paddles or canes just for show, or to add a bit of spice to their sex, but a few people want to take it to another level, and we’re happy to help.”

“How did you get to know so much about … you know…?” Carrie asked awkwardly, unsure of how to pose the question.

“Kinky sex?” Kim laughed. “We’re both bisexual, so we’re in tune with our customers’ needs, which is why we’ve stayed in business, in spite of the internet. We just read up on most of the other stuff so that we sound as though we know what we’re talking about, but when it comes to corporal punishment, we’re hands on!”

“Surely, there can’t be too many women who’ve come to you like we have?” Kate demanded.

“Not with your precise story. Most of our customers for this sort of thing are men, buying stuff to use on their partners, male or female, or to get their partners to use on them. But there have been women who’ve been talked into dominating their husbands or boyfriends, and I’m quite happy to chat to them about the role of the cane in a Female Led Relationship.”

While talking, they entered the living room, a snug space with a three-piece suite and a television. Bill popped into an adjoining room and reappeared clutching a collection of implements.

“These are the stuff we have in stock,” he explained.

Kim took one of the implements from him. It was a black leather paddle with an oval blade. She showed it to her two customers. “A basic spanking tool,” she explained quite unnecessarily. “Who would like to try it out?”

Carrie took it from her and looked at Bill. “How do you want me to use it on you?”

“Oh that will never do!” Kim expostulated. “You’re in charge, so you tell him what you want. Why don’t you sit on the sofa, and call him over, and tell him — tell him, mind, not ask him — what to do.”

Carrie settled herself awkwardly on the sofa. Bill stood in front of her.

“Now you don’t want to waste your time smacking the seat of his pants, do you?” Kim demanded. “Tell him to drop his pants and get his bum bare!”

“You heard the lady,” Carrie told Bill. “Now do it!”

It was then that they noticed what Bill was wearing.

“Dungarees!” Kate murmured. “How agricultural!”

“But very practical,” Kim assured her. “Rapid access to the target area.”

Bill demonstrated what his partner meant. He unfastened the two buttons attaching the bib of his garment to their retaining straps, and it quickly slid down to his ankles. He was not wearing underpants, so he was virtually naked down from the hem of his tee shirt. Virtually naked, except for the stainless-steel chastity device which now caught their visitors’ attention.

“Can we get one of those as well?” Kate wanted to know, pointing at Bill’s groin. “Skivvy does tend to waggle his about in our faces quite a lot.”

“We can offer you a selection,” Kim assured her.

“Okay, boy, over you go,” Carrie said briskly, taking Bill by the wrist and guiding him over her lap. She raised the paddle.

“Give him three swats,” Kim told her. “That should give you an idea of what it feels like. And don’t stint yourself. Make them count.”

Carrie was happy to comply. She raised the paddle and slapped it down hard on Bill’s rump … once … twice … thrice! Bill gave a little squeak each time the paddle landed but remained immobile. The skin on his bottom blushed pink.

Carrie ran a thoughtful hand over Bill’s bottom. “That felt good,” she announced. “How was it for you Bill?”

Kim and Kate laughed. Bill murmured “It stung. You certainly know how to use that paddle!”

“Good,” said Carrie. “We’ll take it.” She helped Bill back onto his feet.

“How about a cane or two?” Kim asked, picking up a couple. “This one is nice and swishy,” she said as she waved a pencil-thin length of rattan with a crook handle, “and this one is more thuddy,” she added as she held aloft a straight cane about as thick as her little finger.

“May I try them?” asked Kate, taking both from Kim.

“Of course you may,” smiled Kim. “Bill, in position. Give him three with each my dear.”

Obediently Bill bent forward at the waist and put his hands on his shins. His rump jutted out. Kim ran a proprietorial hand over the naked flesh.

“When he’s on his feet and bent over like this,” she advised Kate, “you need to swing the cane parallel to the ground, not over your shoulder.” She stroked the base of Bill’s spine. “You must never hit this part of the bottom, and a stroke brought down from on high is quite likely to do that. Apart from that, be my guest!”

Kate gave Bill three hard strokes with the lighter of the two canes. Bill gasped each time the cane bit into his flesh. When Kate had finished, the three women examined the neat red lines that had been etched on his bottom, low down, just above the join with his thighs. Two of the lines crossed and the skin was puffy at their junction.

Kim tapped the damaged spot with her finger. “That’s what makes the cane very severe,” she said gently. “It’s very easy to tear the skin, and that takes time to heal. It’s why I don’t cane unless it’s someone I won’t be seeing again soon.”

“So we couldn’t really use it on our boy every day,” Kate concluded.

“Not unless you don’t mind the state of his bum after a week of that sort of treatment,” Kim agreed. “But do try the other cane. Three of the best.”

Bill bent over once more. Kate gave him three hard strokes, pausing for a few seconds after each stroke. Bill yelped each time the cane bit into his rump and remained in position to allow the ladies to examine the damage.

“Gosh, they’re turning blue,” Kate gasped as she stroked one of the fresh weals.

“Yes, this is a real punishment instrument.” Kim patted her partner’s bottom affectionately. “Bill is on his knees begging for mercy if I sentence him to a dozen with this.”

“Thank you, Bill,” Kate said as he helped Bill upright. “How did you find that?”

“It hurts. I’m into spanking, but a caning with that really tests my limits.” They could see the tears in his eyes.

“We’ll take one of each,” Kate decided. “Let’s see if we can find our Skivvy’s limits.”

Carrie rummaged through the remaining implements. “What about this one?”

“That’s a martinet. Nine rubber strands on a wooden handle. It’s very versatile. Used lightly, it stings, but if you give it a good swing, it will do some damage. And you don’t have to worry about aiming it. Each stroke will cover most of the bottom. Would you like to try it?”

Carrie looked dubious. “Hasn’t Bill had enough already?”

“He can take a lot more,” Kim said casually. “And he’ll be getting them from me this evening. So a few more now will be fine. Won’t they Bill?”

“Yes, Kim,” was all Bill could say.

“Let’s have you resting over the back of this sofa,” decided Carrie, taking Bill by the hand. She looked at Kim. “Three strokes?”

“Go easy on the first two, but let him have the last one hard,” Kim advised her.

Carrie followed her instructions. The first two swishes showed her how the strands of the whip splayed over the target area, leaving faint pink marks on Bill’s pale skin. Then Carrie drew back and lashed it down hard. Bill howled.

Kim rubbed Bill’s bottom gently as she showed her two customers the result of the last stroke. Streaks of dark red overlaid the pink marks of the earlier strokes, and inflamed the weals left by the cane.

“That was a good shot,” she told Carrie. “A couple dozen stokes like that will bring your Skivvy into line no matter how tough he thinks he is!”

“It felt good too,” Carrie assured her. “I could really get used to this!”

“Is that all you need right now?” Kim asked as Bill started to collect the items which they had selected.

“Yes thank you,” Kate replied, then paused. “Hang on, there is one more thing. Bill,” she called. She pointed to his groin. “You were going to offer us the stuff to lock him up!”

Kim led the way back downstairs to the shop. “What you choose depends on whether you want to just control him, stunt him or punish him. I am stunting Bill, so I lock him in something really tight. If he tried to get out of it without my permission, I would lock him in something with spikes, that would hurt like hell if he got an erection. Otherwise, you can just put him in something which just stops him getting erect.”

She put six different alternatives on the counter.

Carrie and Kate eyed the rather intimidating collection.

“We’re not really in the business of punishing him,” Carrie remarked. “The stuff we’ve got was because he wants that sort of thing, but he only asked us to lock his willy is because we said we weren’t into men.”

Kate picked up a cylindrical device. “What about this?”

“Good choice,” Kim agreed. “This band goes behind the scrotum, and this cylinder just holds the limp willy without crushing it, so he can pee when he needs to. It’s screwed on with a special allen key, so you don’t need a locksmith if anything goes wrong.”

The women giggled at the idea of a locksmith working on a cage and added it to their collection.

“Do come and tell me how you get on,” Kim told them as she handed them their purchases and rang up the sale.

“We’ll invite you round after we get settled,” Carrie told her. “I think Skivvy will be glad to see Bill and know that he’s not unique!”

# # # # #

The two ladies had a leisurely lunch in a pub and returned home laden with their shopping. Skivvy was doing something in the kitchen. He hurried into the living room, still naked apart from the butcher’s apron. Quickly, he dropped to his knees while they dumped their bags on the coffee table.

“Did you get back to your digs?” Kate asked him.

“Yes Miss K. I’ve got all that sorted.”

“Good. Take off your apron,” Carrie ordered as she took the chastity cage out of the shopping bag. “Look what we’ve got for you.”

Skivvy dropped the apron on the floor and the ladies eyed his erect penis with some disfavour.

“That will never do,” Carrie told Kate. “How are we going to fit that on him when he’s in that state?”

“Simple solution,” Kate replied briefly. She rummaged in the shopping bag and produced the heavier of the two canes they had bought. She pointed to a footstool. “Get yourself onto that,” she ordered Skivvy. “Kneel on it and put your elbows and your nose on the floor.”

She watched him obey, then stood to the left of him and tapped his rump with the cane.

“First instalment of your wages coming up,” she announced as she swung the cane.

It snapped across Skivvy’s buttocks with a dull whup! Skivvy’s head jerked up, and his whole body went rigid. There was no doubt that Kate had got through to him.

In the course of the next couple of minutes, she gave her new houseboy five more strokes of the cane. Each one seemed to drill into his very core, and he whimpered to try and relieve the pain.

“Okay, stand up,” Kate ordered. Skivvy staggered to his feet, and the two ladies examined his groin.

“Well done, it’s gone down!” exclaimed Carrie, handling Skivvy’ limp penis gingerly.

“Let’s get the cage on quick!” Kate cried. Carrie had taken the cock cage out of its packaging while Kate was caning Skivvy. She handed Skivvy the device and made him fasten it securely around his genitals. The two ladies exchanged a satisfied look. They wouldn’t have to worry about any intrusive penises anymore!

“Now that we’ve got that under control, let us show you all the goodies we bought,” Carrie told Skivvy. “There’re two canes here, and a paddle, and this nice whip as well. We should be able to pay you all the wages you need with those, and we’ll get more when we think we need them.”

“And we’ve decided that you can’t go poncing around the house in the buff all the time,” added Kate, “so you’re going to wear these.” She produced three grey sweatshirts, and three baggy denim dungarees. “Here, put one of these on.”

Skivvy pulled the sweatshirt on over his head and stepped into the dungarees. Both garments were the right size for him, but the dungarees were so baggy that they flapped around his waist and buttocks. Kate nodded in satisfaction.

“Just right,” she announced. “Now, when we want to get at your bum, all we have to do is unbutton these two…” unclipping the buttons that attached the bib of the dungaree to its shoulder straps “… and then pull downwards, voila!”

The dungarees dropped to Skivvy’s ankles leaving his bare bum on display. Carrie reached for the paddle.

“Over my lap now boy,” she ordered. “Another instalment of your wages coming up.” Skivvy complied, and Carrie grinned at Kate.

“Let’s see if we can cover up the cane marks.”

The spanking went on for some time, because Carrie decided that she was enjoying it too much to stop. By the time she finished, the cane marks had been smothered by the bright pink effects of the paddle!

The two ladies spent the rest of that first Saturday training their new Skivvy. Having in the past shown a succession of au pairs how they liked things done, they had very clear ideas about what, when and how frequently chores should be performed. Their experience with the au pairs had taught them to expect protests: too much was expected of them, they lacked the ability or strength to do certain things, the demands being made were outside the scope of their employment. They got none of this from Skivvy. Whatever task they said they wanted done, Skivvy greeted with a polite “Yes Miss”, only checking to make sure that he understood the frequency with which that task needed to be performed.

The only area where he hesitated was in the kitchen, when Carrie asked him to demonstrate his cooking skills. Skivvy confessed, shame-faced, that he had never learnt to cook. They then decided to limit his chores to food preparation, since he claimed to be adept at peeling, slicing and dicing, and to washing up all those items which would not go into the dishwasher.

Finally, in the late afternoon, Kate and Carrie sank into matching armchairs, satisfied that they had briefed their new houseboy on all his responsibilities. Carrie kicked off her shoes and waggled her toes.

“It feels good to get off my feet,” she sighed. “All this running around is not good for them!”

She realised that Skivvy was hovering in the background when he gave a discreet cough. She looked around.

“What do you want?” she asked abruptly.

“Begging your pardon, Miss C,” Skivvy replied humbly, “I did a course in body massage when I was with Mrs Stepley. May I be permitted to work on your feet?”

Carrie raised an eyebrow. “You cheeky monkey, is this an excuse to grope my feet? Is that how you get your kicks?” She looked at Kate. “Should we give him another flogging for being insolent?”

Kate shrugged. “You could. Or you could let him loose on your feet and take the skin off his backside if you don’t like the results. If he’s any good, I could use a good rub myself.”

Carrie stuck her bare feet out. “Okay, boy, show me what you’ve got.”

Kneeling on the floor beside her armchair, Skivvy carefully went to work. He was not exaggerating his manipulative skills. Carrie radiated scepticism for the first five minutes, but by the time Skivvy had been working for fifteen minutes she was slumped back in her armchair, legs spread wide, one foot held tenderly in Skivvy’s mitts while the other rested on his head. Kate watched as Skivvy reverently finished one foot, kissed it with great reverence, and took the other foot off his head so that he could start massaging it.

“Oi!” snapped Kate. “Is the boy allowed to kiss your feet?” she demanded.

Carrie waved an expansive hand. “If he can make my feet feel as good as this, I’d let him lick between my toes as well!” she murmured. She let Skivvy work on her other foot for more than fifteen minutes before she wriggled it away from his grasp to push him aside.

“Go and ask Kate whether she would like the same treatment,” she told Skivvy.

“I certainly would,” Kate drawled. She waggled her bare toes in front of her. “Here boy, get to it. And it had better be good!”

Carrie disappeared into the kitchen while Skivvy set to work on Kate’s feet, and it took him only fifteen minutes to convince her that as a foot massager alone, he was a keeper! She looked blissfully content when Carrie called her in to supper, and they gave Skivvy a generous portion of their leftovers after they had finished.