This is how I want to wake up: with two women either side of me, talking casually about what they are going to do to me, as though I’m not even there. Far too much of today has been spent on turning this fantasy into words, and even this doesn’t quite capture everything I hoped it would.
“Hmm, which would be better though: gagging her with your knickers or with hers?”
“She loves the taste of her own cunt so much, but if we gag her then we won’t be able to hear her scream.”
“That’s right, and it is wonderful to hear her pleading for us to touch her after teasing her for so long. She begs so beautifully.”
The words float into my mind, and call to me as I lie in the warmth between sleep and wakefulness.
“What about some temperature play? Hot wax and chilled glass dildo bring the sweetest sounds out of her.”
“Yes – but I need to remember to grab the camera and get some photos of her this time. And some of you both when you’re using the knife to slice the wax off – you look incredibly sexy when you’re concentrating so hard on your masterpiece.”
Something stirs between my legs and tugs me towards consciousness.
“Talking of works of art, guess what I caught her doing yesterday? I came upstairs when she’d been sent up to make the bed and get ready for her spanking? Her fingers rubbing frantically at her clit, kneeling on the floor with her face buried in the duvet. It was like she was praying.”
“Had she asked you?”
“No. She didn’t.”
I can hear the grin in her voice as she says that, and it was no longer just voices, but in fact could feel the warm bodies either side of me.
“Would you have said yes if she’d asked like the good little girl she’s supposed to be?”
“Of course, nothing is more fun than granting her orgasms. It was going to be a proper over the knee spanking, fingers pushing inside and rubbing her clit once her wetness was dripping down her legs.”
Her sleepy noise of arousal is followed by the sound of a kiss, and I find myself squished between the two of them. I wriggle a little, their warmth pressing against me. I can barely think back to the days when I didn’t sleep naked between them, ready to be used by them whenever they want. It feels so right to be here, their toy, their girl, their little slut. I can’t help but smile.
“So, flogger or paddle? If that’s what you meant, that we should turn her sweet little arse into a work of art because she disobeyed us again?”
“Exactly. You know she finds it really hot when you’re teaching me how to beat her? What about we get the cane out and you instruct me how to use that on her?”
I hold my breath, wondering if I can trick them into thinking I’m still asleep, so I can lie there and listen to all their wicked plans for me.
“We’ve made her come with the cane before, haven’t we?”
“Yes, and she couldn’t decide if she loved it or hated it until you made her lick her come off the cane. Then she knew for certain that she loved it.”
“She’s such a good little slut.”
I feel a kiss drop on my shoulder.
“And of course, what I really want is to tie her down and force orgasm after orgasm out of her poor wee cunt.”
I shift slightly, wondering if I sneak my hand down between my legs without them realising…
“Did you notice that our little slut has woken up? She’s trying so hard to lie still, but she can’t help squirming. I expect her greedy cunt is very wet from hearing about all the ways we plan on using her today.”
As Alicia says this, I feel her hand slide down between my legs, her fingers spreading me open and a single digit pushing into my cunt.
“Is she?” Ellie asks, and I bite my lip to hold back a moan as Alicia pulls her finger out. I don’t manage to stifle the whimper I make as she leans over to offer Ellie my finger, which Ellie eagerly takes between her lips. Without even looking at me, Alicia removes her finger from Ellie’s mouth and pushes it into mine, effectively shutting me up. There’s only a faint tang of my arousal left, but I suck on it eagerly nevertheless.
Alicia’s hand slides back down between my legs, but instead of her fingers inside me or on my clit as I’m craving she simply cups me. It’s comforting when we’re snuggling, and makes me feel protected and cared for, but when I’m aroused it’s simply frustrating. As they both know.
With Alicia holding me, Ellie begins to play my nipples in the way that only she can. It feels like she’s plucking a cello string, the fast thrumming of her fingers against my nipple mercilessly playing me like an instrument. I try to squirm away from the touch, unsure if it is pain or pleasure, but Alicia holds me in place.
Then, as they know I want and really don’t want them to, they keep talking about what they’re going to do to me.
“Do you think if we use our new toy on her, we’ll be able to make her squirt?”
This is the best way to wake up.
Image sourced through Pixabay.
Quinn Rhodes (he/him) is a queer, trans, disabled sex writer with vaginismus. He’s a slut and a sex nerd who writes about his adventures in trying to fuck without fucking up. Quinn can usually be found wearing stomp-on-the-patriarchy boots while falling in love every time he fucks.