The house of the middle-age industrialist from Quebec was possibly the most modern structure on the beach. The design was austere inside and out, the décor all white or gray, including the furnishings, which were dramatically stark. Robert Bissett’s dinner guests, Amy and Rachel, were bedazzled, not only by the house, but by their host as well.

Amy’s infatuation for the man was obvious from the clothing she selected for her first visit to his home. She pulled on a white T-shirt that advertised her luscious breasts much more effectively than it covered them. It clung to them like paint and showed not only that her boobs were full and shapely, it left no doubt as to the condition of her nipples.

Rachel thought the top was bad enough, but it was the skirt Amy chose that had given Rachel a fit while they were getting dressed. She watched Amy wriggle into a short red crinkle broom skirt that barely hid her shapely bottom, in fact it didn’t if she bent over or spun quickly, a move Amy had perfected in several years of ballet classes.

“Omigod, Amy!” Rachel had said, noticing the lack of underwear and being very familiar with Amy’s marshy wetness, “Seriously, you’re wearing that skirt without panties? The way you gush over him you’ll be dripping your DNA all over his house.”

“I hope he notices,” Amy replied as she did her lipstick.

A shy and proper girl, Rachel dressed modestly, wearing panties and bra under white shorts and a blue short-sleeve cotton blouse. She was concerned that Amy’s infatuation might cloud her judgment. “Where do you see this going tonight, Amy?”

“Gee, Rach. I sure hope it goes somewhere, don’t you?”

“Not really. Please don’t drag me into whatever you’re planning.”

“I’m not planning anything. Let’s just wait to see how it goes.”

Rachel frowned. “I’m only going because I don’t think you should be alone with him. We don’t know anything about him.”

Amy took Rachel’s hands. She said, “You’re so sweet, protecting me—or are you jealous?” She embraced Rachel. “Don’t be jealous. I love you very much.” They kissed.

“I love you too. I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you,” Rachel said. When it was time to go they walked barefoot on the beach from their house to Robert Bissett’s, holding hands, carrying their sandals.

Looking like part of the decor in white trousers and white Polo shirt, Robert Bissett welcomed them in French. “Bienvenue chez moi, Mesdemoiselles! Welcome." He kissed their hands, winked at Amy, and escorted them to the dining room.

He seated them at the large glass dining table and filled three goblets from a bottle of chilled Sauvignon Blanc. He raised his glass and toasted them. “To my beautiful neighbors,” he said. Besides the wine, three place settings, a large bowl of salad, and chafing dishes containing a lobster dish and rice pilaf were ready on the table.

As they ate Rachel concealed her amusement at the way Amy flirted openly with Robert. He seemed to enjoy it. Rachel hoped he wouldn’t take advantage of Amy’s crush.

Halfway through dinner and her second glass of wine Amy felt giddy. “This meal is wonderful, Robert,” she said, pronouncing his name Ro-behr, the French way. “You’re an excellent cook.”

“Thank you, Cher. I like to cook, it’s one of my hobbies. I’m glad you like it.”

“I never had lobster cooked this way. What do you call it?” Rachel said.

“It’s called ‘Lobster a l’Americaine’, an old French recipe, one of my favorites.”

The wine made Amy bold. She tilted her head coyly and said, “Is watching one of your hobbies, too, Robert?”

Rachel blushed and nearly choked.

He laughed. “You knew I was watching, eh? I thought you might have seen me. But I couldn’t look away. You, dear Rachel, with the tiny vibrator were enchanting.”

“Omigod, I forgot about that,” Rachel said, covering her mouth as her blushed deepened.

“Amy, you teased me and then you went into the house. Why did you stop?”

“Rachel, she invited me to come in to . . . ”

“Yes? To what?” he said.

“To play,” Amy said, smiling knowingly at Rachel.

“Don’t be coy, please. What exactly did you do with Rachel?” He poured more wine.

“Rachel . . . we made love.” She grinned at Rachel. “It was wonderful.”

“Ah. So you have masturbated together and, as you say, gone down on each other?”

“Yes,” Amy said.

Robert looked thoughtful. “You are very open about it. Nothing else?”

“What do you mean?” Amy said.

“You’re lovers, of course. You’re a beautiful young woman, Amy, and you too, Rachel. You make me wish I were young again, but I am a great deal older, so . . . ” He trailed off and sat back in his chair. “But perhaps we can have some little fun, if you are willing? Have you ever thought of trying more serious activities?”

Amy raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean, more serious?” she said, thinking they could only get more serious if one of them had a cock.

He leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table. “Well, I’m referring to the power dynamics of sexual activities. When you two are together I think you share power about equally, so neither of you is dominating the other. I’m suggesting that you might experiment with role-playing—dominant and submissive.”

Amy looked at him wide-eyed. “Bondage? I’ve read about it on the internet,” she said.

Rachel, wide-eyed and open-mouthed said, “You want to tie us up?”

Amy, turned on by the thought of Robert trussing her up, frowned at her. “Chill, Rach.”

“No, no,” Robert shook his head, amused by Rachel’s alarm. “I’m suggesting this for you two, not for me. If erotic role-playing appeals to you, if you would like to try it, I know a little about it. I can coach you if you like,” he said, “and watch if you don’t mind.”

He seemed to be waiting for one of them to speak, but neither did. Rachel hugged herself, uncertain how to respond, deferring to Amy, willing to let her decide. Amy looked at her, questioning with raised eyebrows. Rachel could only return a frightened stare.

“Oh, come on, Rach. Let’s try it. It might be fun,” Amy said.

“Will it hurt?”

They both looked to Robert, like students waiting to hear their assignment. “No, no. It does not require pain,” he said. “It’s about power and control.”

Rachel bit her lower lip. “Well, okay, I guess. If Amy wants to.”

“Okay!” he said, with a clap of his hands. “Now, which of you is more dominant?”

Rachel said, “She is. She always suggests things.” She turned to Amy, “Well, you are, aren’t you?”

“I guess I am, most of the time,” Amy said.

Robert smiled at Amy. “Se we’ll reverse roles. Let Rachel dominate, Amy, and allow yourself to discover the feel of surrendering to her. Will you?”

Amy gazed at Rachel, recalling the pleasure of surrendering to that mouth, the Cupid’s bow lips and versatile tongue—she drives me crazy with her mouth—and wondered what Rachel was thinking.

“I’m totally up for it, but I wonder if you are? Rach?”

Rachel, aware they were waiting, said, “I’m not sure. What do I have to do?”

“Well, you don’t have to do anything,” Robert said. “You can do what you feel like, or you can ask Amy what she would like.” He stood. “Let’s go up to my bedroom. I have some things to show you.”

He led them up the stairs, Amy following with Rachel behind her. Rachel admired the view of most of Amy’s bare ass under the swaying skirt and felt an impulse to kiss it. As she had predicted, Amy’s thighs glistened with moisture.

The bedroom on the ocean side of the house was large and airy with a king-size brass bed, a wardrobe, upholstered chairs and a wall of walk-in closets with mirrored sliding doors. Robert went to a closet and opened it. “Maybe these things will inspire you.”

The girls looked in the closet. On the back wall was a collection of paraphernalia, some of which they had never seen before. They saw nylon ropes, handcuffs, blindfolds and masks, whips, canes, ball gags, and several dildos and vibrators.

The sight of it excited Amy. As she looked over the various items her gaze was drawn to the ropes and handcuffs. She tried to imagine being restrained, tied up, being used in some sexual way, and tingled with arousal. A device caught her eye, a bar with loops on the ends. “What’s that, Robert?” she said, pointing to it.

“That’s a strappado, Amy,” he said. He brought it out of the closet to show her. “These are cuffs to go on your ankles. The bar holds your legs open. Would you like to try it?”

“Mmmm. Might be weird,” Amy said.

Rachel stepped in front of her and took the strappado from him. “I want to use it,” she said. “See anything else you’d like to try, Amy?”

Amy looked at Rachel and saw something different in her eyes. Rachel had assumed a take-charge attitude that thrilled her.

Rachel said to her, “Strip. Everything off.”

Amy glared back at her. “You’re taking charge now, Rach?”

“You agreed, didn’t you, so do as you’re told. Get naked. It should be easy, considering what little you’re wearing.”

Amy looked at Robert, who had settled into a chair facing the bed. The thought of stripping for Rachel while he watched excited her, and she smiled at him as she shed her clothes. She loved feeling his eyes on her body.

“Give me your hands,” Rachel said. She looped lengths of rope around Amy’s wrists and tied them to the bed. She bent her over the foot of the bed with her arms outstretched and Amy shivered as the cold brass pressed against her erect nipples.

Rachel spread Amy’s legs and tightened the Velcros cuffs of the strappado on her ankles. She admired her work: Amy’s pussy glowed bright pink, glistened with wetness, blond fuzz caressed her rosebud above, clearly visible in the spread of her smooth white cheeks.

“Rachel? What now?” Amy said, suddenly impatient. Her tone was demanding.

Robert cleared his throat. “Rachel, I believe Amy thinks she’s in charge, do you?”

Rachel looked at him. “Yes, she’s not submitting much, is she?”

“You may have to spank her.” He went to the closet and selected a ball gag with a leather strap. “Perhaps you can offer her this.” He held the bright red ball. “Ask her.”

Rachel smiled devilishly at the bulge in his trousers as she took the gag. He returned to his seat. Rachel knelt on the bed. She held the ball gag close to Amy’s face and said, “Open your mouth, Amy.”

From across the room Robert said, “Rachel, you didn’t ask her permission.”

Amy eyed the ball gag warily and swallowed. “That’s a gag? It’s awfully big.”

Rachel kept her eyes on Amy, saying, “I’m in charge, now. Open up.”

Amy realized it was useless to struggle against the ropes and the strappado and succumbed to feeling helpless, no longer in control. She realized Rachel could do anything to her, and it frightened her. She opened wide and accepted the ball and felt the leather straps fastened tight around her neck. It was uncomfortable and she had to focus to breath through her nose. She struggled not to panic.

Rachel selected a thin cane from the closet. She felt a sizzle of excitement. She laid the cane across Amy’s ass cheeks. “I think I’m going to punish you, Amy.”

Amy, tried to see over her shoulder what Rachel was about to do. She tried to speak but it was useless, her words muffled behind the gag.

Rachel lifted the stick a about a foot above Amy’s snow white ass and brought it down lightly. She gave Amy three more light taps and then a hard stroke. The cane whooshed and landed with a sharp crack and Amy stiffened, clenched her ass and groaned into the gag. A red mark appeared where the cane hit. Rachel saw a clear trickle on Amy’s thigh.

More strikes of the stick stung her. Amy bit into the ball that muffled her yelps. By the time Rachel had applied half a dozen stinging strokes she felt the heated prickling as a fiery red glow spread over her ass cheeks. Rachel had taken her to a high level of arousal that felt different from anything that they had ever done before.

Rachel examined the scarlet lines on Amy’s white skin. I did that, she thought, and she felt a twinge of nervous power. She touched a slight red welt and Amy’s buttocks jerked. Rachel felt the heat of the welt and the cool of the surrounding skin.

Amy looked at her over her shoulder, her wide eyes pleading for Rachel to continue. She wiggled her ass and moaned, begging for release of the tense, rousing need. Rachel seemed to read her mind. From the closet she selected a rubber dildo. She showed it to Amy and Amy nodded her head vigorously and made assenting sounds through the gag.

Robert sat forward in his chair and watched closely as Rachel rubbed the head of the dildo in Amy’s saturated gash, coating it with the glistening juice that was running in rivers down her thighs. Amy moaned, twisted and pumped her hips, opened and clenched, trying to suck the rubber cock deep into her, wanting it to fill her.

Rachel inserted the dong slowly into Amy’s tight pink pussy. Amy moaned and pushed her ass as far back as she could, almost insane to have it all inside, filling her up. Rachel used the dildo slowly, gently, and with her other hand circled Amy’s clitoris, sending herself into fevered arousal at the thought of penetrating her virgin lover.

Amy’s legs trembled. She was hanging on the edge of orgasm. Rachel removed the dildo and, on impulse, not knowing why, holding it like a club, she slapped Amy’s gash hard, and it sounded like an egg splattered on a tile floor and set drops of pussy juice flying.

The shock of the blow caused Amy to explode in a shuddering white-hot orgasm that finally brought the blessed relief. She sagged as the tremors went through her. Rachel saw that she was near collapse and released the strappado. Arms still trussed, Amy sagged to her knees. Rachel removed the ropes and helped her lay on the bed. She carefully removed the gag. Amy appeared to be half-asleep. A sheen of sweat covered her face and pasted strands of golden hair to her cheek and forehead.

“Are you okay?” Rachel said in a voice that shook with concern. Amy, her eyes closed, nodded weakly. She gripped her head in her hands. Rachel noticed the tiny pulse pumping rapidly in her throat and listened to her ragged breathing. “Omigod, Amy, I never saw you come like that. Was it really good?”

Amy opened her eyes and laughed. “It was a trip to the fucking moon, Rach.”