Pixie Pt. 03 Ch. 07: Depraved

Quite how Angie and Emm, hanging there, limp from orgasms, their backs and asses marked by red stripes, would be able to do what we had planned next, was beyond my comprehension. I just had to hope that they would remain conscious, in the very basic sense of the word; a wider consciousness would be too much to hope for.

'Well, ladies, that was an impressive performance, and I am pleased to tell you that our Founder is pleased to invite you to her place for your prize, this weekend. You, girl, lick them clean and then release them.'

I took the last remark to be addressed to me, having failed to shake the brunette Domme of the idea that I was a fully-functioning adult. I hated those who judged by appearances. It soon became clear that it had been unwise for me to have done so.

'Fuck, Pix, that was good, yes, yes, good girl, lick right up my inner thighs, fuck I am so wet. Oh, and my cunt could do with a good clean too.'

Angie seemed indefatigable. Had I been through what she's just been through, multiple orgasms and a whipping, it would have been all I could do to have managed to have said hello; not Angie, she was up for more kinky sex. In admiration, I not only gave her thighs a good clean, I paid special attention to her clit, and within a few minutes, she orgasmed again, which, of course necessitated more thigh cleaning.

'That's not fair, Pix, I want another cum,' moaned the tied-up Emm.

I looked at the brunette, who, highly amused, nodded.

So, once more to the familiar fragrance of Emm's cunt. It was, I reflected, as I began to lap from her perineum to her clit, some time since I had the pleasure. Her cunt juice was somehow sweeter, more honey-like than anyone else I had ever tasted, and when it came to lubrication, Emm was in a class of her own.

As I was still dressed, I took care not to kneel in the puddle which lay below her, but as I licked up her thighs, there was the familiar taste of Emm goo and piss; she could not cum without pissing when she was very aroused. It made the laundry bills high, but if you liked that sort of thing, which I did, then it was another plus to be added to the many that came from playing with the incomparable Emm. Knowing her well, I was able to escape the drenching by pulling away at the last moment.

Standing on a stool, I unhooked both of them.

It was typical that they should immediately have gone for each other.

I withdrew to the side of the Domme.

'Are they always like this?'

She was almost breathless in her admiration.

'I shall report back to Mistress Nesta, but have to say I have never come across such depravity.'

Looking at Emm, eating out Angie's asshole, I had to agree; I was relieved when they stopped short of scat play. There were some things they craved which left me cold, and that was one of them. I could do without the pain too.

They had to have a good shower before they left, something they were made to do separately on the grounds, said the Domme, that they might never leave if they showered together; she had a point.

They were in high good humour later, and I left the pair of them retiring to a local bar for refreshments.

When I reported back to my wife, Sarah, she laughed.

'So much for not getting involved sexually, I knew you would in the end.'

'Sorry darling, not sure what else I could have done!'

'I was teasing, it's okay, and fuck, I'm wet, bedroom, now.'

I led the way, but was only half way up the stairs when I felt her hands pulling at my knickers. I stopped long enough for her to discard them on the stairs, as she gripped my ass from behind, slapping it.

'Bed, now, slut!'

Hardly had I entered the room than she was on me. My white shift-style dress was on the floor in seconds. I leant up on tip toes to kiss her, but she picked me up and pulled me to her. Somehow she had lost her dress. I felt her hands under my ass, my wet cunt open as she rubbed me against her tummy. Her fingers were already rimming my asshole.

'Fuck,' I grunted.

Normally she lubed me up, but I guess I was already so wet that some cunt juice had found its way down there.

Either way, she took me there with ease.

She pressed me against the wall.

Clinging onto her meant I was helpless as one of her hands sodomised me and the other took liberties with my cunt. I felt her fingers meet through the thin wall with divided my slut holes, as she was calling them.

Just as I could feel something building, Sarah changed tack, throwing me on the bed, then she straddled my face, her wet knickers pungent in my nose and mouth. Pulling them aside, I began to lick her. My hands felt upwards until they found her erect nipples, and I began to massage and pull them. As that coincided with my pushing back her clit and tracing patterns on it with my tongue, those knickers got wetter. I loved Sarah's scent.

I slid my tongue until, forming a tube, I could thrust it into her warm wetness. My hands continued to play with her nipples. She rode me hard, her wetness, her fragrance, coating my face and filling my nostrils. My nose rubbed her clit as my tongue went in and out of her. She rode harder, grinding herself into my face.

'You fucking little slut, fuck, make me cum you fucking tart.'

Oh, I did love being insulted when we fucked, and the more aroused she was, the harder she insulted me.

'You fucking little whore, you are just a fucking slut.'

At that, she came. Oh my did she cum. And as she did, so did I, with no other stimulation.

We slept the sleep of the just, that night, the just exhausted.

I gathered, on the morrow, that Emm and Angie had finished their day together too. So much for not taking your work home.

At Headquarters they knew better than to ask how, when we told them we knew where Ms. Big lived. The tracking device which Emm had in her nipple bars was matched by one Angie had in her butt plug, so there was a reasonable chance that we could be tracked pretty close to the country house where Nesta, the sex-trafficking boss, lived.

'But we have been trying for a year to get a fix on her home, but totally failed, how have you two cracked it so quickly,' our boss asked, puzzled.

'Well,' I said, 'we found a weak spot in her armour, an unprotected flank, so to say.'

Once we were alone I went through our plan again with Emm and Angie. Everything depended on their ability as sexual athletes of the highest order, but in the end we were reliant on a hunch of mine.

'How can you be sure?' The asked me in unison.

The answer was that I couldn't, but knowing what I knew about women like Nesta, I was prepared to back my hunch.

Emm and Angie received their messages twenty-four hours before departure. We were bound for a place just outside Dover. They had asked if I could come too, and, no doubt in view of the report the Domme had provided, there had been no difficulty with that request.

Thus it was that we left St Pancras on the Eurostar on Friday evening.

Emm looked delicious. On the principle that simplicity was best, she wore a short leather skirt, stockings, six inch heels and a tight fitting top which emphasised her cleavage. As ever, her make-up was immaculate. She walked the line between strumpet and class with skill.

Angie, on the other hand was operating from the 'if you've got it. flaunt it baby' view. She was wearing a very tight leather dress, which left nothing to the imagination and showed off her wonderful curves. Her blonde hair was up, and her make-up screamed 'slut' to anyone who saw her. But she wore it with such pride and confidence, that no one would slut-shame Angie Sinn. She shamed the slut-shamers (try saying that after two gins and tonic).

By contrast, I looked my usual cute self. There was very little I could do not to be in the shade with two of the sexiest women anyone could wish to meet, so I went for the white, slip-like dress and low heels. We made a contrasting threesome.

We left Ashford on time, and pulled into Dover a few minutes early, and a bottle of wine lighter.

'Okay, ladies,' I said, leading the way.

'Yup,' said Emm, 'now to pull it off.'