Pixie Pt. 02 Ch. 01: To Russia with Lust

Sarah smiled at me.

'I love you Pixie! I love you as much as the day we married.'

Hugging her, I reminded her that as that had only been two months earlier, it was just as well. On tippy toes, I kissed her, tasting her sweetness, loving her scent; our love buoyed me up.

Much had changed since the Spring. Our marriage had brought us to share Sarah's house in Kensington, and I had managed to get myself a more reasonable sort of job, as Events Manager at a University a short commute from home. It meant that instead of being away all hours, and weekends, I could be there for Sarah. It felt like what it was, bliss. And there were mornings I could listen to her on the radio on my phone on the way to work. It felt good; it was good.

Smiling broadly, Sarah gave me the news we had been waiting for ever since we had been invited to the Crimea.

'I have the tickets and details from Ekaterina. We shall be in Odessa by Saturday lunch-time, and everything is paid for the next fortnight. We have a part of the dacha to ourselves - and a message from Emm.'

I had been three months since we had seen my old friend and sometime lover (and briefly, Sarah's lover too) Emmanuelle, off with her decadent wealthy Russian Mistress, Ekaterina. The latter had promised us a trip to the Crimea, and Emm, excited at what lay ahead of her, was anxious we should come to see her.

I have set down, elsewhere, the tale of how Sarah and I met, and of how Emm won what she had always wanted, the chance to be a slave to a decadent lesbian who would control her and use her in any way she wanted. Each, as I had said to Sarah, to her own. I had Sarah, the love of my life, and Emm had a dominant Mistress. We were, indeed, a strange species, but it took all sorts.

Two days later we landed in Odessa, after a flight to Turkey and a short sea voyage to the Crimea. At the port, we were met by two Amazonian women in Ekaterina's trade-mark sliver dresses, cut low in the front, and with slits up the side showing what seemed to me unfeasibly long legs; I swear their legs were as tall as I am.

The air-conditioned Bentley was comfortable, which made the journey a pleasant one. Sarah and I were able to cuddle up and talk about what was ahead.

We had heard from Emm every week without fail, and it seemed as though she was living her dream.

She told us how Ekaterina had, through regular use of anal plugs, expanded her capacity in terms of being the anal slut she wanted to be. Emm loved anal, and she had waxed lyrical about the ways in which Ekaterina had trained her to be even more receptive for the variety of toys she used to satisfy the cravings.

Emm loved her pierced nipples, and Ekaterina had shown herself inventive regarding the ways in which vibrating bars could make Emm's nipples scream for relief. The same was true of Emm's clit stud.

It seemed that Ekaterina was the head of a cabal of powerful lesbians. Usually, the girls they used were lower class ones driven to it by their situation. But Emm was an upper-class English woman of breeding and education, and her submission to Ekaterina was a badge of honour for the latter. Emm was regularly used to service Ekaterina's friends, and in the wet room, no holds (or indeed holes) were barred. It seemed as though both Emm and her Mistress had got what they needed.

Sarah asked me how I felt about it all?

I knew she was worried that, given my own submissive tendencies, I might get drawn into that world. I reassured her. There was a huge difference between liking being bossed about a bit and having your ass flogged. Sarah giggled and said that when you put it like that she could see it. We smooched.

The time passed swiftly, and as we enjoyed the coastal drive, I could see that this was an exclusive area; all the dachas were gated, and there were plenty of security guards on show, with formidable looking weapons. This was a place that was neither easy to get into, nor out of once one had been allowed access.

As we drove through the open gates into an expansive courtyard, it was clear that even in a place where money was being spent on a grand scale, this was something else. The house was more like a modern version of a castle, the walls rising high to turrets, with a great tower dominating one end of the building. On the roof terrace, there was apparently at least one helicopter pad, but it looked like there could be two of them - there were, it turned out.

Once the car had come to a halt, the Amazons opened the doors, and we got out. The change from the air-conditioned interior to a hot Crimean afternoon was dramatic, and although I was wearing only a shift dress and brief panties, I felt as though I was over-dressed for the climate.

This was not something one could have said for Emm, upon whom we laid eyes as we were led down a path which ran down to the sea.

At the sight of us, she rose - like Venus on the foam on the crest of the wave. She was a vision of gorgeousness. Her generous breasts strained at the flimsy bra which failed to do anything other than emphasise their firmness and plumpness. There were no tell-tale sun-tan lines. The bikini bottoms merited the description of a couple of pieces of dental floss with just enough to cover her pussy. Her long blonde hair tumbled around her shoulders.

'Darlings!' She exclaimed, her breasts seeming to move on their own as the strode toward us.

'My dears!'

That was Ekaterina's voice, and looking in its direction, we could see her coming down the stairs which led up to the terrace garden.

I found myself enveloped in Emm's familiar perfume, as her bosom engulfed me. I was glad she was pleased to see me. She kissed me, and Sarah, and then Ekaterina welcomed us too.

As we sat in the sumptuous water-side pavilion, Ekaterina had servants bring us caviare and champagne. Our bags, she assured us, were taken care of, and we should relax with Emm.

I had never seen Emm so happy and content.

Off came the bikini top, and the nipple bars glinted in the sunlight. Emm relaxed back in what I took to be the sun lounger - except no sooner had she done so than her wrists were trapped by two bracelets. She smiled. I looked at Ekaterina, who was pressing what looked like a cross between a mobile phone and a television remote control. The nipple bars made a slight, whining noise. Looking at Emm's face, their vibrations were having an effect.

'Pixie,' Ekaterina said, 'would you like to control the slut's orgasm?'

Sarah looked severely at me, and I declined the honour.

'I understand. Let me tell you what is happening. Those nipple bars vibrate, and when they have been doing so for ten minutes, the ben-wa balls inserted into her cunt begin to vibrate at the same rate, which, in turn, set off her clit clamp.'

Emm was already looking as though she was off in another world, as indeed she was.

The sight of Emm being stimulated by her inserts was, indeed, an arousing one, and despite my best efforts, I felt a moistness between my thighs; Sarah admitted later that she had felt the same way.

As Emm's legs were held open, the wetness of her bikini was immediately apparent, as was the fact that her juices were glistening on her thighs. As the vibrations had their effect, Ekaterina began to abuse her, calling her a slut and a whore, all of which, naturally, increased Emm's arousal.

'I will happily take over,' said a voice from behind us.

It was Ivana, Ekaterina's chief of staff.

Clad in an equally revealing bikini, she gladly took the controls and used them to good effect.

Emm, who had been gasping and gyrating, moaned louder as Ivana increased the intensity of the vibrations. She alternated between fast and slow, slowing down whenever Emm appeared to be about to orgasm.

'Beg your friends to let you cum, you fucking slut!'

Emm was sweating, her bikini bottoms drenched, and her scent clear to us all.

'Pixie, Sarah, can I fucking cum, please, fuck, fuck, oh, please!'

Sarah laughed.

'Shall we, Pixie, or shall we watch the slut writhe in agony and let her stew in her own juices?'

It was tempting, but I could not do it to my friend, not least because of the obvious pleasure Ivana was taking in denying her.

'Let her orgasm!' I said.

With that, Ivana pressed a red button, and we watched as Emm's cunt spat forth a stream of juices. She screamed as she orgasmed. The intensity was clear. For the next few minutes, she was lost. Her eyeballs rolled back, her breathing was ragged and hard, and her screams could have been heard back at the house.

Ekaterina came over and kissed her where she lay. Releasing her from her bonds, she stroked her boobs.

'I now take my slut back to fuck, but we shall see you, ladies, later. Welcome to Ekaterinburg.'

Emm's eyes opened,

'Yes, Mistress,' was all she said.

As she stood, Ivana stripped her of her final flimsy covering, and we had a splendid view of her naked ass and swollen cunt. She walked past, she winked at us. She was, bless her, in her element. As we watched her recede, her firm ass wiggling nicely, I began to wonder whether we might not, ourselves need an afternoon in bed - there was nothing like watching a friend orgasm to give one ideas.