So, you’re all caught up, and we’re at this moment. You’ve been introduced to all the players in my sordid little life of lust, desire, passion, and, most importantly, love. The broad strokes are that we’re all fucking anything with a pulse. I’m with Becky and Sophie in a closed triad. Hamish and his wife Simone make quite the noise with my Mother, Helena, and her husband-to-be, Al. To complicate things, Hamish is the identical twin of my deceased father, Angus, and is fucking my Mother when the whim takes him, with Simone’s and Al’s blessing. Just as Al is doing with Simone. It’s all rather debauched and quite fun. With me so far? Good. It’s fucked up, right? At home, clothing is, more or less, optional on any given day.
It’s spring break for Becky, Soph, and me in our final year at Yale, and we're headed down to Tybee Island in Georgia and ‘The Surfs Up’ Hotel, run by one of my Mother’s second cousins and her wife. Becky’s Range Rover needed a long run to get everything bedded in after its last service and fluids change, and what better way than a nice leisurely eighteen-hundred-mile round trip for a couple of weeks of fun and sun on the coast?
Mom’s second cousin, Daisy (I know… spare me the ‘Dukes of Hazzard’ jokes, please! It’s a cliché name for a female Georgian, we get it already!) and her wife, Crystal. Daisy was about ten years older than me, in the middle of the age gap between my Mom and me. Of course, I’d seen pictures of Daisy and had met her when I was much younger at a family get-together. My overriding memory of Daisy was that her hair was like Mom’s, a bright platinum blonde. I’d not met Crystal, but from my Mom’s accounts of her, she was a proper firecracker and a redhead to boot.
The Sat-Nav in Becky’s Range Rover led us to the door of ‘The Surfs Up’ Hotel. A concrete parking lot in front of the hotel provided ample parking. The Hotel has twenty-seven guest rooms, including the Bridal Suite and a Granny Flat, where Daisy and Crystal lived. It was painted in a beautiful sky-blue colour, and being a beach-front property, it had spectacular views of the Atlantic Ocean. The house was just to the left of the Pier and had straightforward access to all the local amenities and the Rip Tide Bar and Grill.
We each grabbed our backpacks from the trunk of the SUV; the rest of the luggage would be taken care of by the valet. Becky tossed the keys playfully, then handed the valet twenty bucks for his troubles. It’s always worth tipping big with the staff; they remember you and take care of your stuff. Each of the packs we carried had a specific function. I brought the snacks; Sophie had all the underwear, the barely-there kind my girls loved to wear back home. Becky had the toys. These were our immediate go-to items for any fun.
“Welcome to the Surfs Up. I’m Ryan. Please go to the front desk – Daisy and Crystal expect you,”
Ryan smiled warmly. He made no secret of checking out Becky and Sophie for a long minute, then started toward the SUV to park it. They both saw his lecherous stare and, as any shamelessly bi-sexual woman in an FFM throuple would do, giggled a little, then started making out heavily in front of the poor kid. I guess he was about seventeen, maybe? His face was pockmarked from a severe case of acne that didn’t look like it was getting effective treatment. He didn’t know where to put himself. Finally, after thirty seconds of wandering hands and playing ‘find the tonsils’ with each other, Sophie turned away from Becky and made this kid’s year.
“If you play your cards right, you could get a piece of this sweet ass, too, stud!” she winked at the poor kid seductively; the bulge in his pants did nothing to hide his arousal and was a dead giveaway that he’d have been up for anything Sophie may have suggested in a heartbeat. Then, as if to seal the promise, Sophie turned to face him and allowed the back of her hand to ‘accidentally on purpose’ brush against the stiffy that was making a valiant attempt at breaking free from its confines. The kid came in his pants right there; a large dark stain spread over the crotch of his maroon suit pants. He realised on some level that he stood zero chance with this hot, blonde goddess but was content with her cock-teasing him. She didn’t care; it was all a wickedly debauched game to her. On the other hand, Becky was not quite as amused and huffed loudly to bring Sophie back to the present.
Things had not been peaceful in the Smyth-Johnson household of late, with Sophie becoming increasingly insatiable in her demands and appetites for sexual release. Her fascination with BDSM was getting outside my comfort zone, and I know Becky was feeling the pain, as the sting of the cat o’ nine-tails had permanently left its mark on her flesh in a couple of places. I hadn’t escaped the cats’ wrath either, with a lovely pair of train tracks running across my ass, perpendicular to my ass crack—a faint yet visible and permanent reminder of that play session.
Sophie, as soon as she realised that she’d over-stepped the mark, was immediately full of remorse and couldn’t apologise enough. She hadn’t touched Becky or me for a week after marking us; such was her guilt. After that session, Sophie went off at the deep end. She watched hundreds of videos and documentaries about BDSM and the extreme fringes of that lifestyle, choking, humiliation, total submissiveness and the polar opposite, being a full-blown Dominatrix.
Quite frankly, we were scared. However, we were so concerned about Sophie’s state of mind that Becky and I brought Hamish into our confidence about her behaviours and increasingly extreme appetites. Having spoken at length with Sophie, Hamish determined that she was suffering from a complex set of issues revolving around some, as yet undisclosed (at least to Becky and me) trauma from her past that was driving her to ever more extreme measures to satisfy her cravings for her dopamine, oxytocin and endorphins.
Hamish was a practising psychologist and holder of the Chris Argyris Professor of Psychology chair position at Yale University; he was licenced to treat in his field. So we trusted him to be able to help her. But, of course, the HIPPA laws precluded him from telling us anything that Sophie may confidentially mention to him without her consent. So we had to trust that Hamish could convince her that we could be charged with helping her with whatever was at the root of her behaviours. Behaviours that were threatening to destroy the extraordinary bond we all share.
To aid in this objective, Hamish had paid Mom’s cousin for the bridal suite and all meals at the Surfs Up for us for the two weeks of spring break, not just as therapy for Sophie but as a holiday for us all. He hoped that a getaway in relaxing surroundings and having fun would lead to Sophie decompressing, opening up to us, and talking about her feelings honestly, as that was the only way she could fully reconcile her past with her present.
“Thank you, Ryan. We appreciate your time. I’d appreciate it if you could park the car in the shade. Sophie—walk with me!” Becky was not impressed, not one bit, and it wasn’t a request. Only twice had Becky issued a directive, and on both those occasions, there was none of her customary politeness. Essentially, Becky always said please and thank you.
Becky had only used that tone on me once, and I hoped I would never hear it again. Unfortunately, redheads are not known for their mercy once angry, and Becky was incandescent with anger. This was not a conversation I wanted to be any part of or be within the perimeter of a fifty-yard exclusion zone. I could guess what was coming Sophie's way. I made the sensible choice and started walking to the hotel while Ryan escaped to the parking lot in the SUV.
As the girls walked in the opposite direction to me, I caught the beginnings of the scolding that Becky was starting to dish out. I could hear something about ‘always taking things too far’ and ‘why did she have to embarrass the poor kid that way?’ I was suddenly highly relieved that I wasn’t Sophie.
~~~~~~{}~~~~~~
Mom’s cousin, Daisy and her wife, Crystal, were waiting for me by the expensive-looking marble reception desk in the hotel foyer. Daisy looked like I remembered her, a younger version of my Mother, down to her bountiful breasts, which were allowed to roam free in her sheer white tight-fitting silk blouse. Dark areola surrounded Her pool cue tip-sized nipples, poking at the fabric.
The motion of her breasts under the shirt caused rubbing against the sensitive nubs, enhancing her apparent excitement. A stray thought ran through my head, wondering if my Mothers’ breasts featured such delicious attributes also. I immediately dismissed the inappropriate idea. What was wrong with me?
“OLIIII!” Daisy’s greeting snapped me out of my reverie, and was as enthusiastic as it was loud, just like my Mother's. She rushed towards me, making little skips to cover the distance between us. I had just placed the backpacks on the floor when Daisy barrelled into me, nearly knocking us over.
“I do declare! You’re a grown man now, not that spotty kid I saw in the last picture your mamma sent me! And you’re mighty handsome, too!”
Daisy’s plan, I guess, was to plant a big wet kiss on my cheek, but the door opening behind us caught my attention, and I instinctively began to swivel my head around to see if it was the girls back from their ‘walk’. Consequently, she caught me full on the lips. It is not an entirely unpleasant experience but also wrong on many levels. I was immediately transported back to the night when I thought I was a blood relative of Becky, and my heart once again skipped a beat for the wrong reasons. This time, the participants in this lip-lock were most definitely related, as evidenced by Daisy’s striking resemblance to my Mother.
I can’t say who was the more embarrassed, Daisy or me. Suffice it to say there was enough beetroot colouring in our cheeks that we could have been mistaken for delegates to a face-painting convention.
“I am so sorry, Daisy, that was unintentional,” I spat out, perhaps redundantly, as I scrambled to regain my footing and composure. Daisy regarded me for a split second, then burst out laughing.
“Well, we’ll keep it our lil’ secret then, eh darlin’? Crystal, this is my third cousin, Oliver Johnson. Oli, my wife, Crystal.” Unlike my mother, Daisy lost most of her Georgia accent, but occasionally, the odd word slipped in, with a proper country accent that can make your heart melt.
“I’m delighted to meet you, Crystal. This is quite some place you’ve got here,” at this point, I realised that Daisy was still holding me in her bear hug. Once more – thoughts of the celebration party for Hamish and my perceived relationship with Becky danced across my consciousness. I somehow managed to wriggle myself out of Daisy’s inappropriate embrace and moved to walk towards the reception desk.
Crystal regarded me coldly as I approached, as if silently blaming me for the unintentional kiss with her wife. Then, she took my outstretched hand and shook it briefly whilst simultaneously attempting to assert her dominance over me by trying to break a metacarpal or two. I don’t usually go in for stereotyping people, but to me, Crystal was the perfect embodiment of ‘The Butch’ lesbian stereotype.
I met her steely blue-eyed gaze and gripped her hand just as forcefully. I was no threat to her or her relationship with Daisy; my family were naturally touchy-feely. Surely, Daisy would have mentioned this to someone she’d married, wouldn’t she? But I’d be damned if our first interaction resulted in me being bested in a handshake.
Crystal’s close-cropped red hair had some grey beginning to peek through around the temples, and she was diminutive compared to Daisy and me. I’m no giant, but Crystal was, at a guess, about 4’11”, maybe 5’? And she carried a little extra padding that softened her sharp, almost cruel features. Her most striking feature, however, was her sense of dress. 1950s biker chic, ripped jeans, a plain white tee shirt and a leather jacket that looked like it was a survivor of World War Two. It completely contrasted with Daisy’s modern business suit pants and sheer silk blouse.
I coughed nervously, clearing my throat before I was about to say that I would get the essentials unpacked in the room for the girls’ arrival. Before I could speak, Daisy pre-empted me and handed me the key to the Bridal suite as Crystal slapped her hand on the ubiquitous hotel desk bell.
“Rosa, please show Mr Johnson to the bridal suite,” Crystal had a gravelly rasp to her voice and, for whatever reasons she may have, decided that she didn’t like me; I was mystified about their origins. How she drawled over the ‘Mr Johnson’ part of her directive to Rosa was nothing short of abject disdain for me. I would later find out the source for this, but we’ll get to that when the time comes.
A pretty, plump Latina appeared from the back office and smiled at me warmly.
“Buenas tardes Señor. Por favor, follow me to your room,” she spoke with a cute Spanish accent, and I happily followed her beautiful round ass as she and it wobbled off towards the elevator.
As the elevator doors closed, I could make out the beginnings of Daisy and Crystal's conversation. Unfortunately, it didn’t sound like they were having a better conversation than I expected Becky and Sophie to be having.
Rosa efficiently guided me to the suite and showed me all the room’s amenities. I thanked her politely and handed her twenty bucks for her troubles.
“Muchas gracias, Señor,” Rosa beamed as she turned and left me in the gargantuan suite, alone.
I quickly unpacked the three backpacks, stowed them in the wardrobe and looked around the room. A queen-sized bed was on a raised platform at the west end of the room, allowing for ‘uninterrupted views of spectacular ocean sunrises through the floor-ceiling glazing’; at least, that was in the brochure on the writing bureau. There was a luxurious seating area with a large flat-screen TV and a kitchenette catering for basic cooking, which was not that we’d be using – Hamish had paid for all our meals to be included.
The bed looked inviting, so I kicked off my sneakers and lay down, intending to test its springiness and stretch my back out after the long drive down. Instead, sleep’s warm embrace soon took me; I don’t know how long I was asleep, but it was the delicious sensations of my cock being licked and sucked on both sides that roused me from my slumber. Somehow, between them, and without waking me, they’d pulled my boxers and pants down to mid-way down my thigh. I blinked sleepiness away from my eyes and noticed it was now dark.
“Hey, sleepy head. Welcome back to us!” Becky smiled up at me, as radiant as the first time I’d seen her in old Professor Wynn’s class. Sophie, by way of greeting, continued to greedily suck and slurp on my cock, as if it was the last time she was going to be able to. Finally, Sophie’s head began bobbing up and down and was accompanied by a frenzy of gagging sounds, and my cock was lubed by a mixture of her saliva and my pre-cum. I rested my head back and enjoyed the wonderful gift Sophie gave me as Becky fondled my heavily laden balls.
“Owww. Fuck! Sophie – no teeth,” my focus suddenly torn from bliss became the searing pain shooting down my dick. Sophie had allowed her teeth out to play; her bottom set had dragged quite sharply over my frenulum while the top teeth forced their way over the ridge of my glans. This pain thing was getting out of control. I don’t mind a little bit of rough-housing, but there are limits I don’t want to cross, as I know Becky didn’t either. We’d both been scarred for life by Sophie, so her taking her teeth to my dick was passing one of those limits.
“God, you’re such a fucking pussy, Oli!” Sophie suddenly spat with disgust. I bounced on the bed and quickly pulled my pants up, wincing as I pulled my shorts and pants over my sore dick. I looked at Becky, then back at Sophie. I was not a happy man, and my dick was smarting from the scrape of Sophie’s teeth.
“I’m getting a drink. Alone!” I pulled on my sneakers and left the girls to themselves while heading to the hotel bar. Hamish would pitch a fit when the bill returned after this trip. Not even through day one, and I was on the sauce already.
“Oli,” Becky started after me, but I shot her a warning glare that told her I was not open to negotiation.
“Perhaps you two should have another heart-to-heart chat,” I said, sarcasm dripping from each word. “It’s clear to me that the last one didn’t sink in!”
The door to the suite slammed shut behind me with a satisfying thud, lending an exclamation point to my exit. Before I headed off in search of something alcoholic, I leaned against the door frame, wondering where Becky and I had erred in our treatment of Sophie to warrant such a change in her behaviour. ‘I guess she’ll tell us sooner or later.’ I surmised.
~~~~~~{}~~~~~~
The lounge and bar area of the Surfs Up Hotel was much like any other hotel in any other city on the planet, with one major exception. Those other bars didn’t have my third cousin’s wife tending bar in the evening. I acknowledged Crystal politely and ordered a beer. My face told the story of the last ten minutes as I thirstily sucked down the generic brew.
Although I’d developed quite a taste for beer over the previous two years, I also had a taste for fine cognac, thanks to Hamish’s love of the spirit as I spied a bottle of Courvoisier on the shelf behind Crystal and ordered a double as a chaser for the beer. Considering I don’t smoke, my friends always think it odd that I carry a lighter. The reason is simple: fine cognac needs to be appreciated, remembering the lesson I had learned the first time I met Becky’s adopted Dad.
I tilted the glass to the light and swirled the liquor around a little before retrieving the lighter from my pocket and warming the liquid in the brandy glass by a few degrees.
I could see Crystal eyeing me as if re-evaluating me suddenly, and perhaps I wasn’t some young stud who landed a smacker on her wife in an attempt to steal her away on purpose after all…
“Colour me impressed,” Crystal said, surprised that I knew how to appreciate a good brandy.
“I like a man who knows how to enjoy good brandy,” Crystal observed appreciatively.
“My uncle taught me; he’s got brandy everywhere. Some of it dates back to the Napoleonic wars in Europe,” I was happy that Crystal was at least talking to me now and not trying to break my fingers.
“It sounds like he’s quite a guy. Say, Oli, I’m sorry about earlier. I wasn’t fair with you and thought you were putting moves on my girl. Whaddya say, friends?”
I reached out and offered my hand once again, pulling it back slightly just before she took it to shake. “On condition that you don’t try to break my fingers again!”
Crystal smiled, and her entire face changed; she was quite pretty. She nodded heartily, and I shook her outstretched hand warmly.
“So, what’s with the face, if I can ask? You look like you’ve been sucking off a hornet’s nest,” whether Crystal expected an honest answer or not, that’s what she got. She was family, after all, and we trust family, right?
“Well, I’m guessing you know about our unique … living arrangements?” I paused, watching her face for a yea or nay. When she nodded, I was relieved I wouldn’t have to go over it in such a public space, not that the bar was busy.
“We’ve been experimenting with light bondage, whips, chains and gags… pretty tame stuff considering. But one of my girls is developing a real pain kink, more so the inflicting. She also wants to be marked by us, too,” Crystal listened intently as I laid out the basics of the goings-on, from my construction of our little portable rack to the recent incident that left both Becky and I scarred, albeit barely visibly.
“Wow. Just wow!” Crystal was silent for a long Moment. But then, unbeknownst to me, she was seriously considering something.
“Oli, I may be able to help you with this. I will tell you now that it will be hard to watch, should you wish to partake, and the method may break your triad. But it may also save it,” Crystal poured a measure of bourbon into a shot glass and downed it in one before continuing to speak.
“If you don’t mind, could you call the part of your triad that isn’t the problem and ask her to join you here?”
I texted Becky quickly, asking her to come to the Lounge alone. A few minutes later, she appeared beside me, kissed me, and squeezed my ass through my jeans. Of course, my cock couldn’t help but respond, and she knew it would. I’m sure Becky liked seeing me wriggling in place, trying to accommodate my swelling manhood, which was still smarting somewhat, and judging from the smirk on Becky and Crystal’s faces, they both knew what was happening to me, too.
“What you drinking, honey?” Crystal asked Becky.
“Just a beer, thanks,” was Becky’s quick reply. Like me, Becky had developed a liking for beer, finding that its deleterious effects could enhance bedroom activities. Crystal popped the cap on the bottle and placed a mat on the bar, quickly followed by Becky’s beer. Finally, Crystal looked at us and asked us to wait while she called Cousin Daisy to join us and called for Ryan to relieve her at the bar.
“Why don’t we grab one of the booths at the back of the Lounge? It’s a lot more discreet. Ryan can tend bar.”
Ryan appeared and looked Becky over once again, remembering the painfully embarrassing stain of his cum seeping through his trousers this morning. He quickly averted his gaze and took up his station behind the bar. I chuckled inwardly, remembering that I would have been the same not too long ago. After about ten minutes, Daisy appeared and found us talking with Crystal in the booth we’d commandeered. I couldn’t help but check Daisy out. She looked fantastic in a slinky, sequined little black dress that left nothing to the imagination.
A plunging neckline elegantly showed off her ample and bra-less chest. A split in the side of the dress up the left thigh, similar to the one Becky wore for me on our first date, revealed stocking-free, naturally tanned legs and beautifully sculpted calves, which led to delicately turned ankles. Her makeup was a stark change, however. Black lipstick covered her full, succulent lips, and dark blue eyeshadow with a thin gold accent highlighted her Sapphire blue eyes.
Again, thoughts of my Mother looking like this flashed through my mind. What the hell? Why was I suddenly going all Oedipus and Merope? I physically shook my head, trying to banish the improper thoughts I was having about my Mom. What didn’t help, and as I’ve said before, Daisy is Mom’s spitting image, albeit ten years younger.
“OK, what’s y’all emergency that couldn’t wait?” Daisy seemed peeved to have been pulled away from whatever she had been doing. Crystal indicated to the open seat, inviting her wife to join us.
“Honey, you’re going to want to hear this. Please take a load off. These kids have a ‘problem’ they need help with, and I reckon you’re just the person who can help them figure it out.” I was grateful that Crystal had warmed so much to us. I would later find out that she has a thing for bratty blondes and would be integral to what was to come.
Daisy’s curiosity was piqued. She sat elegantly and snapped her fingers in the air to summon Ryan. Promptly, Ryan appeared and waited patiently.
“Ryan, honey. Would y’all be a darlin’ and make me an Old Fashioned,” Daisy returned her attention to the group in the booth and sat, waiting for her drink.
Between Becky, Crystal, and me, we laid out the issue we faced and our complex feelings about Sophie and her fall into BDSM culture. Daisy listened intently, nodding at specific points and pursing her lips charmingly when thinking of a possible method of helping. Eventually, we got to the present and the fresh gouge marks on my poor dick. Becky and I looked at Daisy expectantly.
“Well, now. Y’all got quite the problem, don’t you?” Daisy looked directly at Becky and me. What came next from Daisy rocked me to my core, and Becky was similarly shocked.
“Becky, honey. Your daddy called me before you arrived and told me what you’ve been going through. He didn’t give too many details but said this was all your mamma’s idea, Oli. There is a closely held secret on our side of the family, honey.” Daisy paused for discretion as Ryan placed her Old Fashioned on the table for her. She waited long enough for him to be out of earshot before continuing what she wanted to say.
“So, the family secret is that the women-folk run a network of dungeons for people who like that sort of thing. It started in the 1940s with our Great-great-Grandma,” Daisy took a sip of her drink before continuing with the background on the matriarchal side of the family.
“When her husband returned from Germany, he was a changed man, bless his heart. Despite what she did to excite him, he found he couldn’t perform in the bedroom anymore. One day, she was so frustrated they were arguing about his lack of performance that she slapped him hard,” Daisy took another sip from her tumbler and continued.
“The effect it had was immediate, and not to put too fine a point on it, by all accounts, they fucked like bunnies. She liked giving out the rough stuff just as much as he did to receive it.” Another pause for a sip of her drink before continuing.
“Some of Great-great-Gamps Army buddies saw how happy he’d become pretty much overnight and asked him what the secret was. After risking his life in foxholes with bombs and bullets whizzing by, he’d made close friends; he trusted these people with his life and shared his secret,” Daisy took a breath before finishing the history lesson.
“Pretty soon, three or four ‘regulars’ were being disciplined by Great-great-granny. Then, they would go home to their wives and make them happy. The one thing that she never did was sleep with any of them.”
Becky looked at me, and I’m sure our mouths were both hanging open equally wide. I had no idea that this was a thing for our family. I wondered why Mom hadn’t said anything about it, then realised that would be silly. Why would Mom tell me about a secret sex fetish industry run by the matriarchs of our family?
“So – that’s the brush strokes of the origins of our little cottage industry. I think we can help Sophie with her little addiction issue, as long as you both are happy for me and my Dommes to go as far as we think we need to. Unlike Sophie, I promise that no permanent visible marks will be left – we understand that some lines should not be crossed.”
Becky and I nodded as a thought occurred to me. “Would we be required to watch or be in the dungeon in any capacity?”
I saw Daisy look at Crystal, and then they both nodded. They had anticipated this question and had not only prepared an answer for us but also hinged their entire plan on our participation.
“Sweet Oli and Rebecca… You will be the key to this. You will be together, in full sight, doing what you wish to do to each other. And, if you so wish, several of the lovely ladies and men, if you’d like to experiment, Oli, that are in my employ would love to join you,” Daisy paused for a heartbeat and ran her tongue over her top lip as she looked at Becky. If I didn’t know better, I would swear she imagined filling that role herself if we elected to pursue it. I doubted that we would.
“This would add to her torment while Sophie is punished properly for her transgressions against your trust and flesh. Marks should never be left on anyone unless they have been specifically requested. I, we, will… re-educate Sophie.”
Daisy’s lascivious grin almost intimidated me. She drained the remainder of her glass and held it up high to summon Ryan for a refill.
“The only stumbling block for you two that I can foresee is that our playroom is rarely empty, so if you wish to torture the little brat with your divine bodies, others would see you, too.” I know that Becky isn’t shy, and neither am I, so the idea of fucking in public was one of many fantasies we’d discussed over our time together, but we’d never seemed to have the right opportunity. However, I guessed that was about to change now if the shit-eating grin on Becky’s face was any barometer.
Ryan arrived with a tray filled with replacement drinks for the table and quickly gathered the empties. I could see that Becky also had a question, which she waited to pose until Ryan was again out of earshot.
“Do we have to do any of the bondage stuff? I think I’ve had my fill of whips and leather for a while,” her question was sincere. I felt the same way. I had even contemplated dismantling the rack, but I knew Al and Hamish loved taking turns on it as Simone and my mom ‘educated’ them. Crystal fielded that question from Becky.
“The only thing you two lovebirds need to do is touch, caress, kiss, suck and fuck as much or as little as you want, with whomever you want. This will be an exercise in denial for Sophie. For each kiss, touch, or other action, Sophie will feel the bite of various devices while you remain blissfully pain-free. That will be the greatest torture for her. Seeing your happiness and pleasure without you enduring any form of pain. Any pain that she would wish on you will be transferred instead to her.”
I took Becky’s hands and held them tightly. I looked deep into her concerned eyes. She was worried about Sophie; we all were, even Daisy and Crystal, who had yet to meet the tempestuous blonde brat. We needed to address the elephant in the room. Hamish’s statement that some underlying trauma was responsible for this behavioural development in Sophie. What had he divulged to Daisy and Crystal, and what had he withheld from Becky and me?
“How will we get to the root of this issue for Sophie? Daddy had made it clear that we needed to get Sophie to tell us the root cause of her problem,” Becky said, almost crying. She had very complex feelings about all this, as did I. But, this time, Daisy answered the question.
“That will be part of the process – there will be points where we ask certain questions. Using orgasm denial techniques and other methods, we should be able to plumb the depths of Sophie’s psyche and drag out of her the trauma that Hamish mentioned to you. These methods are quite effective, even on the most… stubborn people.”
Becky gripped my hand and spoke for us both. “OK, let’s do it. When do we start?”
We all huddled towards the centre of the table and whispered conspiratorially as Daisy laid out her plan. After a ten-minute run-down of the game plan, which, in retrospect, seemed oddly well-rehearsed, if Crystal’s nods and looks at us were anything to go by, we all agreed with the plan; Daisy stood and motioned for us to join her.
Daisey reached up and took Becky’s face in her hands. She kissed Becky tenderly on the lips; it was far more than a friendly gesture of support, judging from Becky's sigh. While this happened, Crystal came towards me, arms outstretched. I bent down so she could place her hands around my neck as she pulled me towards her for an equally delightful kiss.
I couldn’t control my physiological reaction, and Crystal’s eyes went wide as my rapidly inflating cock jabbed into her just below her bust. Once the lip locks were over, Daisy asked Becky to grab her phone and summon Sophie to the lounge. Daisy spoke once more. This time, though, her voice was different. This time, her voice was harsh and authoritarian.
“My sweet darlings, please ask the problem child to come down and join you. By the end of tonight, she will think that the gates of Hades have been opened just for her.”
~~~~~~{}~~~~~~
Sophie found us in our booth about twenty minutes later; Daisy and Crystal had left us alone for the first part of the plan. As always, Sophie looked sheepish that she’d taken things too far again and gushed apologies to both of us, mainly me and my sore dick.
“Oli, Becks, I’m so very sorry. I don’t know what came over me again; I hope I haven’t ruined everything now. I love you guys so much, I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost either of you,” Sophie seemed contrite, but then, she always did after one of her little over-steps, but her recognisance never seemed to stick.
With Daisy and Crystal on our side this time, waiting in the wings to administer corrective measures, we hoped we would adjust her attitude slightly. Becky and I knew this would be hard, but it wasn’t too tricky for Becky to turn on the waterworks. Emotions were running high, so there wasn’t a whole lot of play-acting needed on her part for phase one of the plan.
“Sophie, you’re breaking our hearts. Oli and I have discussed everything and how your behaviour is worsening,” Becky sniffled a little and wiped her cute button nose on a handkerchief before continuing.
“We are breaking the triad, Sophie. We are releasing you from your pact with us. We can’t risk our safety anymore. You’ve already marked us both permanently. And today, you’ve effectively bitten poor Oli. We know you’re sorry, but it’s not getting any better. So, we’re calling it quits.”
“Fuck off, Becks. You’re messing with me,” Sophie replied, only half believing Becky’s words. She knew she’d rattled us both, and now she’s reaping her reward for her transgressions. I stepped in, allowing Becky to open the faucet to her eyes while slowly shaking her head.
“I’m sorry, Sophie. We’re serious; we’re not messing with you,” I paused for effect, hoping I didn’t over-ham my acting.
“We’ve agreed and also discussed it with Cousin Daisy. The hotel has made a room available for you. So, we’ll have your things sent down, but it's over as far as the three of us are concerned. There is no more ‘us’, just Becky and I!”
The realisation that we were serious and were breaking up with her began to set in, and Sophie looked utterly distraught. She started sobbing unashamedly and flapping her hands in front of her face, hyperventilating and crying simultaneously. I gripped Becky’s hand under the table. This wasn’t entirely playacting for us, either. This wasn’t very pleasant for us as it wasn’t for Sophie. But, for this to be convincing, we were splitting up with Sophie. I hoped Becky could feel me giving her my support via my grip.
“Sophie, we’ll always care for you deeply, and you will always be welcomed into our home. But I have to consider Becky’s safety and my own. The incident in the suite upstairs was the final act in a long line that has brought us to this point,” I paused and took a deep breath to continue speaking.
“We have asked you politely, pleaded with you, and ultimately shouted at you to stop the pain play, all of which you have ignored.” I looked at Sophie’s soaking wet face; silent sobs wracked her body as her shoulders heaved, but the look of defiance never left her eyes. I searched Sophie’s face for even the slightest hint of remorse; there was none.
“So, this is the only course of action we have left. I, we, are sorry, Sophie, but this is goodbye, as far as the triad goes. We’re through. Becky and I are going to bed now. Alone.”
I stood and offered my hand to Becky, who accepted it graciously and rose to her feet. She leaned into me, and I placed an arm around her shoulder to provide comfort as she cuddled into me. Sophie just sat there, looking at us defiantly. Her beautiful blue eyes were swimming in tears, and she finally realised we weren’t messing with her.
I gently pulled Becky’s shoulder around to indicate it was time to walk away. Becky’s arm snaked around my waist as we wheeled about, and she pulled me closer to her; her head was resting on my shoulder, and her gorgeous copper hair was spilling down her back. As far as Sophie was concerned, that would be the last time she saw us like that.
As we approached the lounge's exit, we passed the bar, where Crystal had been making herself look busy by cleaning the same tumbler for the last ten minutes. She looked up as we approached and looked at us quizzically.
“She’s all yours, Crystal,” Becky said, “I’d recommend Rum and Coke to loosen her up a little!”
Crystal grinned; I can’t recall seeing such a deliciously wicked grin on anyone’s face before, and considering I lived with Simone, Becky’s adopted Stepmother… that is quite an accomplishment.
Crystal put her tumbler down and retrieved her phone to text Daisy quickly.
‘Operation Correction: GO’
Whatever happened in the next two weeks would either make or break us irreparably.
~~~~~~{}~~~~~~
Crystal calmly took a slow meander around the lounge, picking up glasses and emptying discarded objects of detritus into a little garbage pail she toted behind her. She made small talk with a few of the patrons still lingering. Eventually, she ‘stumbled’ across Sophie, snivelling softly to herself and with tears streaking her face.
“Hey there, it’s Charlotte, right?” Crystal asked as she walked by the booth. It was a way of breaking the ice. “You came in with my wife’s snobby Cousin and his ginger bimbo earlier today?”
Crystal’s disrespect of Becky and me, coupled with her deliberately getting Sophie’s name wrong, was all part of a carefully crafted plan to reset Sophie’s thinking towards Becky and me, allow her to appreciate just how good she’d had it, and, for want of a better term, beat the ‘brat’ out of her.
“I’m sorry; what did you just say?” It took Sophie a second to realise that she was being spoken to.
“Oh, sorry. My name’s Sophie, not Charlotte. And, just so you know, that ‘bimbo’ and her boyfriend are lovely people; I’m the monster here; I won’t hear a bad word about them, understand?” Sophie fixed Crystal with a glare that promised a follow-up if another thing was said about either Becky or me should Crystal pursue that avenue.
“OK, Blondie, I’m sorry. I was tryin’ to make conversation. Let me get you a drink to say sorry. What do you say? You look like a Jack and Coke kind of gal,” of course, Crystal knew full well that Sophie drank Rum and Coke… all part of the plan.
“Rum and Coke, if you’re buying,” Sophie said absently. She was beginning to retreat into herself as the full realisation of our earlier words sank in. So far, the operation was going precisely as planned.
Crystal disappeared and returned with Rum and Coke for Sophie and a Jack for herself a moment later. She settled into the booth beside Sophie and asked what the matter was, taking the role of the attentive bartender to the next level by providing booth-level wisdom dispensation. One drink turned into several, and Sophie began to spill what was ailing her, sparing no detail to this relative stranger.
Sophie was tanked when closing came around. Crystal helped her stand, and Sophie’s hand accidentally cupped Crystal’s breast. Reflexively, Sophie squeezed it, and Crystal played right along, moaning loudly at the inappropriate caress, her nipple standing right to attention. Sophie paused for a second, then looked melancholy.
“I’m never going to get to do that to my favourite boobies again,” Sophie sighed and started to cry softly.
“It’s OK, Blondie—it felt kind of nice.” Crystal waited a few seconds before she sprang her trap.
“Say, you’re kinda cute, you know? I don’t mind, and you can squeeze it again if you want to.” Crystal started manoeuvring Sophie to the elevators.
It took a while, with frequent stops, for Sophie to pity-fondle the closest available breast. A journey that should have taken about a minute to complete took ten. Eventually, they reached the elevator, and Crystal managed to pour Sophie in.
Crystal stood in the elevator's corner, knowing it would help her prop up the pitifully drunk Sophie. But, true to form, Sophie was a walking, talking sex doll. She spent every waking moment obsessing over something sexual, it seemed. So, when presented with a known lesbian in a confined space and armed with the added courage of drunkenness and permission, it wasn’t too many seconds before Sophie nuzzled Crystal’s neck and nibbled on an ear while allowing her hands to grope Crystal’s chest once again.
Crystal soon found that Sophie was rather adept at this type of activity and began to succumb to the blonde goddesses’ ways with the delicate caresses she’d lavished on Crystal’s breasts and neck. As a result, Crystal’s snatch was dripping wet and would need attention sooner rather than later.
Crystal took her vows to Daisy as seriously as Becky and I took ours to each other, but both Daisy and Crystal understood that sometimes things happen, so an open arrangement was in place. In this instance, it was also sanctioned beforehand as part of the operation to correct Sophie. Crystal retrieved her phone and sent the subsequent text to the group we’d formed.
‘Operation Correction: Phase one complete. Proceeding to phase two.’
“I know you’ve had a rough night – but you’ve got me all worked up, you blonde goddess. You going to help a girl out?” Crystal was getting into her role as a potential pity-fuck for Sophie.
Sophie, in her alcohol-induced fog, needed no further encouragement and launched herself at Crystal, their lips crashing together, Sophie’s tongue invading Crystal’s mouth hungrily, twisting about Crystal’s tongue like a snake trying to coil its prey. Sophie brought a hand up between Crystal’s legs and found the denim was soaking wet. Sophie looked into Crystal’s eyes as if asking permission to invade her most secret place. Crystal just nodded.
As Sophie began to work on the button to Crystal’s jeans, the elevator pinged, and the doors opened.
“What do you shay we take thish to my room?” Sophie slurred embarrassingly. Refined seduction techniques were not currently in her repertoire due to her intoxicated state. Crystal fought back a chuckle and nodded enthusiastically, as she knew nothing of the sort would happen.
Before Crystal could answer, two masked figures entered the elevator, placed a heavy black velvet hood over Sophie’s head, and dragged her off into the dungeon that Daisy had spoken of. The dungeon occupied the entire basement level of the hotel, in what used to be the parking garage. Sophie tried to fight off her abductors, but they were simply too strong, and she was too drunk to do anything but submit. She screamed in vain; her cries mingled with the few other anguished and agonised voices that currently inhabited this place.
As Sophie was dragged off into the gloom, her screams got fainter as the distance increased. Finally, Daisy appeared from the side of the elevator doors; Becky and I were close behind her as we’d been lurking in the shadows, awaiting Sophie’s arrival. Daisy looked at Crystal and knew precisely what had happened; she walked to her wife and gave her the most tender kisses.
“I will attend to you soon, my Cuckquean; I know of your fondness for bratty blondes,” Daisy held Crystal’s chin delicately in one hand.
“But first, we must introduce our newest guest to her room. Would you like to make the introductions, Crystal?” Crystal grinned wickedly and scampered off to catch up with the two henchmen dragging Sophie off into the depths of the lair. I had the impression that Daisy would have to wait a while before she could attend to Crystal’s ‘needs’, as she’d put it.
Daisy turned to face Becky and me. The sequins on her dress caught the low lighting and made sparkles dance across her taught body and ample chest. Thoughts of seeing them exposed began to run rampant through my mind. Becky latched onto one tit and me on the other.
“This is where we will say good night. Tomorrow, after lunch, Sophie will be properly installed in her accommodations, and we can begin her therapy.” Daisy lit a cigarette from her purse, savouring the taste of the burning tobacco before continuing.
“In the meantime, however, I plan to fuck my dear, sweet Crystal into next week and make L’Enfant Terrible watch every deliciously hedonistic second.” Daisy chuckled wickedly.
Becky and I took turns kissing Daisy good night and returned to the elevator. Like before, they were far more sensual than usual familial pecks, although this time, with the acrid taste of cigarette smoke spoiling the taste, we didn’t linger for as long as perhaps Daisy would have liked us to.
“Oli, are we doing the right thing?” Becky held onto my arm like it was a life preserver as we made the ascent up to the bridal suite in the hotel.
I had to answer honestly, and I didn’t know.
“I don’t know, Becky, truthfully. But I know if this doesn’t work, I fear we’ve lost Sophie as part of the triad forever.”
We entered the elevator and hit the button for the top floor. Neither of us spoke on the journey up to the room. I just held Becky and inhaled the sandalwood scent of her shampoo.
~~~~~~{}~~~~~~
We returned to the suite, stripped off, headed for the huge glass shower, and stood under the rain effect shower head. Becky donned her shower cap, and we just washed. There were no more three-way passionate kissing sessions or mutual masturbation. Just Becky and I, enjoying gentle caresses and soaping each other up as lovers do when cleaning the stresses of their day from their skins and souls.
We dried using the huge bath sheets in the room and donned the complimentary dressing robes. Soft terry fabric cocooned our tired bodies, and we fell beside each other on the bed.
“How will you feel if it goes back to just us, Becky?” I was too tired to skirt the issue with her. I was also reasonably sure she didn’t want to pussyfoot about it, so I attacked it head-on.
“I will be despondent,” she rolled over to cuddle into me. I lifted my arm over my head to allow her more access, then draped my arm around her back, pulling her into me tightly.
“Of course, I knew it couldn’t last forever, Oli. But I had hoped for a little more than two years. She’s been a big part of all our lives since she arrived. Is that selfish of me?” Becky knew I wouldn’t take a position on her question as it was purely rhetorical.
I wasn’t the right person to ask that of. Two years ago – I had been dead against cheating and infidelity in general… then Sophie arrived, and my world-view and moral compass shattered when I agreed to observe a liaison between two bi-sexual women that loved each other dearly and had done so long before I arrived and upended Becky’s world.
I had agreed to be a part of the throuple, a closed triad consisting of me and two of the most beautiful, sexy and sensual women any man could ever hope to encounter in his lifetime. Sophie had become part of our family, as much as Hamish had welcomed me into his home, so he did with Sophie and also my mother.
“I don’t know, Becky. Perhaps it is,” I paused, marshalling my thoughts into a coherent sentence. “I know we three have had a great time, pain fetish aside, and although I do love Sophie, I’m not IN love with her. Does that make sense at all?”
Becky hummed in agreement, so I pressed on more with my thinking.
“You’re the woman I am in love with unconditionally. There is nothing that I won’t agree to now if you want it. My only rule was not to cheat on someone. However, you and Sophie gave me a loophole to that, and I have enjoyed myself immensely, over and over, as I hope you two also have.” I’d noticed Becky’s hand sliding slowly down the front of my robe, her fingers skillfully sliding underneath the folded-over fabric and allowing her fingers to rest just on my pubis.
“I kind of feel the same way, too, Oli,” Becky confirmed. “While I’ve had a great time with all three of us, I do miss being just us,” she trailed off, not finishing the thought she was trying to articulate.
I sensed that there was something else that Becky wanted to say to me but hadn’t quite yet got the words she needed. Becky gently unfolded the robe from around my waist and lightly ran her finger over my pubis and the length of my rapidly stiffening cock.
Once semi-hard, Becky took long, languid strokes up and down my shaft, gripping me loosely. She was still fascinated by the action of the foreskin rolling over my glans, stretching back on the downstroke, fully exposing the helmet, and then the skin bunching up under my glans as the stroke returned to the top as my cock hardened fully.
“I do know one thing, Oli,” Becky paused for effect. “If the worst does happen, I will look forward to having this monster all to myself again.”
Becky looked up at me and flashed me a devilish smile before her face disappeared behind the curtain of red hair, and my cock was enveloped by her warm mouth.
“Aaah. Becky, oooh, fuck. I’m, ow, still tender.” Immediately, Becky relaxed her suction and gave my cock some long overdue tender loving following its brutal assault earlier in the day. Her tongue slowly circled my glans, catching my pre-cum and adding it to her saliva to make the perfect lube. It was pretty soothing on my still grumbling cock.
Before long, Becky was taking long lengths of my cock into her mouth. But, of course, she wasn’t deep-throating me, although she could do so now, having had plenty of practice throughout our relationship. Becky knew that holding my dick in her throat would lead to me blowing my load pretty quickly, so she was planning something else. And here was me, thinking she was as tired as I was. But then, I’d driven most of the way here—the crafty Minx.
I patted Becky on the ass so that she could straddle my torso. As she settled over me, I lifted the hem of her robe and folded it back over her ass to reveal a freshly waxed pussy. That was something that she and Sophie did together for each other. Although I don’t mind pubic hair, Sophie was the one who had insisted everyone be depilated around the pubic area. Although I must say, the look had grown on me, making my cock look another inch longer.
The majesty of Becky’s sex glistened before me, begging me to dip my tongue between her fleshy labia and taste the nectar pooling there before it threatened to drip onto my chest. I buried my face into her pussy, thrusting my tongue out as far as it could. I savoured her salty flavour and cleaned her lips with my tongue, ensuring it covered every millimetre of flesh. I felt Becky’s appreciation of my ministrations when she made a deep-throated groaning sound, which instantly travelled from my cock, to my balls.
I moved my hands from Becky’s hips to her generous tits, massaging and kneading the fleshy orbs with increasing urgency as I felt my climax build. My cock started to twitch, and Becky knew this was a sign of my impending eruption. So she slowed her compelling oral assault on my cock, allowing my length to fall from her mouth so she could run her tongue up and down my shaft languidly while simultaneously rubbing my laden balls with her delicate fingers.
I withdrew my tongue from Becky’s folds, inhaling her aroma as I did so. Damn, she was sexy! A lady in public and a demon in bed with a wild side that is pretty much unparalleled in my experience (which is limited, it has to be said.) My cock was painfully hard as Becky lapped up and down its length, occasionally sucking my glans into her mouth and devouring the precum that had pooled in my meatus.
I gazed in wonder at her perfect pussy. It was more or less symmetrical, with labia that, when stretched gently, resembled butterfly wings and a prominent clitoris that was currently swollen and looked rather inviting. I reached out with my tongue and flicked the tip over her engorged bud. The action elicited a high-pitched squeak and an accompanying sigh as the electric sensations dissipated into her body. Her thighs began to shake, and I could feel her abdominal muscles contract against mine.
Before long, the sensations coursing through her body reached a crescendo, her attentions to my cock forgotten as the wave of her climax started in her toes before rolling up her body and crashing over her in a release of pent-up sexual energy. The cum gushed from her pussy and coated my face, allowing me to savour her essence straight from the source. She was deliciously salty and somewhat viscous. Nothing else mattered; only Becky and I were in the world. At that very moment – she was mine, and I was hers.
“I’m sorry, baby. Sophie did a number on my dick. It’s just too sore for me to carry on tonight. I hope you don’t mind?”
Becky was coming down from her dopamine rush but understood that I couldn’t continue. She dismounted me and came back to snuggle in beside me, licking up some of her cum from my chest and jaw on her way up to give me the most toe-curling kiss you could imagine.
“Why would I mind? I’m not going to easily forgive her for hurting you, that’s for sure,” Becky huffed as she shuffled a little to get more comfortable before continuing to speak.
“That said, though, when you make me cum like that, I’ll forgive you just about anything, my love.”
Becky’s chest was still heaving from the exertion of such a powerful orgasm, and I watched as her still erect nipples danced on her bountiful bosom as they heaved up and down in time with her breathing. I couldn’t help but run a finger in circles about the areola and nipple closest to me.
“Do you ever get the impression that our parents know more about what we get up to than they let on, Becky?”
Becky considered the question for a moment before answering.
“I know that Daddy and Helena have quite a lot to talk about when they’ve done playing, so I would imagine that they do talk about us to some extent,” Becky looked up at me with questioning eyes.
“What makes you ask the question, Oli?” Becky’s question forced me to play my hand and reveal my suspicions.
“Doesn’t this all seem a little too convenient? A fully paid vacation for Spring Break, spending money, and luxury accommodation?” I paused for breath.
“In a hotel that just happens to be a front for a Dominatrix and her, sorry, my family’s business in corrections of deviance and perversion?” I turned my head to look at Becky.
“Coupled with the seemingly preternatural speed at which Soph's plan and correction methods were deduced?” I finished my thoughts and let Becky digest my words.
“I’d not thought about it, no,” Becky shifted onto an elbow to look at me directly. “But now you come to mention it; it does seem all a little too convenient, doesn’t it?”
“I think a quick call to Hamish may be in order tomorrow morning; I would like to ask my dear old Uncle a few questions. This has all the indications of parental meddling, don’t you think, Becky?”
Just as sleep claimed me, I swear I heard Becky whisper, “Thank you, Daddy.”
