Summer at Pond Cove

by The Technician

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© Copyright 2018 - The Technician - Used by permission

Storycodes: F+/fm+; D/s; cabin; naked; bdsm; spank; punish; buttplug; insert; challenge; race; forfeit; shave; oil; massage; oral; sex; denial; climax; cons; X

WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century. Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2018 by The Technician ([email protected])
Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden.

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Walter settles into a routine as Mistress Gloria’s submissive

Walter’s story continues. In this chapter, he tells of how Mistress Gloria punished him and holly for screwing around and not paying attention to their work. He also talks about a contest between the slaves which results in one of them being reduced to a bald, submissive, sex slave– the lowest you can be.

This story stands on its own, but makes a little more sense if you have read the previous chapters.

Sorry about the long wait between chapters, but I’ve been getting a book ready for publication and that takes up all my spare time.

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Chapter 04

I never expected being a submissive sex slave to be boring. I know that sounds weird, but it’s true. In truth, I never expected to be a submissive sex slave, but once I became one, I really didn’t expect it to be boring.

I’ve read some porn stories about sex slaves and none of them are boring. I guess those stories are only about a few hours’ time or perhaps a really exciting day or two. I didn’t fully realize that when I submitted myself to Mistress Gloria, it would be twenty-four / seven / three sixty-five– well, at least, twenty-four / seven / for the rest of the summer.

Of course that also means that I am slave-bonded to holly twenty-four / seven / hopefully, three sixty-five. I didn’t expect that either. That isn’t boring. It’s... it’s... I don’t know what it is, but even when we are apart, I know that she loves me and I love her and that we would do anything for each other... and for our Mistress, Mistress Gloria.

Maybe my relationship with holly and my relationship with Mistress Gloria are sort of the same. I know that holly is always there for me even when I am alone and Mistress Gloria is always my Mistress, even when she isn’t anywhere around. Some people won’t understand that. Others will call it perverted love, or perhaps just perverted, but I call it the happiest six weeks of my life, so far.

I say six weeks because it has now been six weeks since I got caught spying on my naked neighbors at Pond Cove and all of this started. That first day– actually the first couple of days– were really fast... and weird. I found out that I was a submissive pain slut. And I almost instantly fell in love with holly, who is Mistress Gloria’s submissive slave... and also a pain slut. She is an almost perfect pain slut– holly, I mean, not Mistress Gloria.

Oh... and I found out that my mother is actually Mistress Mandy and my father is her submissive slave “winter.” I think his name is a play on our last name, Summerfield. Submissives– and Masters– run in our family. Maybe I should say that they gallop since the traits show up in every generation.

As near as I can tell, almost every descendent of Great Grandpa Walter Wilcox is either a Master or a Submissive. Except, of course, for Weird Uncle Walter, my grandmother’s brother who owns the north cabin. He’s just a weird, bachelor uncle who has lived with a couple of different roommates over the years.

Wait a minute! I never thought about it before! But Walter’s only changed roommates twice in my lifetime, and mom always says that those two bicker just like an old married couple.

Weird Uncle Walter is gay! And I’ll bet he’s submissive. His current roommate is a big, hulking guy who looks like a professional football player... or maybe a wrestler. Uncle Walter is this really thin, puny guy, so it’s pretty obvious who’s Master and who’s submissive.

Mom– I mean Mistress Mandy– said that she had hoped that I would get the Master genes. But evidently that was not to be.

I am what I am. And I am happy with it. I’m just bored a lot of the time.

I wasn’t bored that second week when Mistress Gloria caught holly and me behind the bushes when we were supposed to be mowing the grass at my uncle’s cabin. Holly’s weird uncle owns one of the cabins, my weird uncle owns the other, and holly and I are supposed to be making sure the grounds are kept neat and clean over the summer so the federal government can’t claim the land as abandoned.

Mistress Gloria and holly, along with Mistress Tracey and her slave puddy tat, and Mistress Sam and her slave cynthia, are at holly’s uncle’s place for the summer. Holly and I went up to my uncle’s to do chores. Since we weren’t where Mistress Gloria was, we both thought that maybe we could take some time to do what we wanted to do.

One of the things we have to do is to keep the grass mowed.  Uncle Cornelius’ place– that’s holly’s great uncle– has a lot of trees and only four or five acres of grass. Uncle Walter’s place– my father’s uncle, actually– has practically no trees and almost forty acres of grass. Mistress Gloria sent us up there to cut the grass and said that she expected us back in time to help fix supper. She had holly ride Uncle Cornelius’ lawn mower up there so we could get done in time.

Evidently Mistress Gloria didn’t know that Uncle Walter had a big John Deere 1600 mower with a huge blade underneath and fold-down mowers on each side. It cuts a twelve-foot path and can get done with everything, except for trimming close to the bushes and trees, in about four hours.

The mower holly brought up was also a John Deere, but it only cut about a three-foot path, at most. Mistress Gloria expected us to take all day, but with holly trimming next to things and me doing the open areas we could have gotten done a little after noon, even with both of us having to stop regularly to put sun screen on our naked bodies.

I say “could have” because we stopped a couple of times for snacks... and lunch... and sex. At our first break, mid-morning, holly came over to me and said, “I’m hot.”

I answered with, “There is water and lemon aide in the cooler.”

She smiled at me and said, “I’m not that kind of hot.”

We were on the deck of Uncle Walter’s cabin. She walked over to the edge and bent over the railing so that her ass was pointed right at me.

“You choose the hole,” she said in a raspy voice, “but you’d better not pop too soon. I really need some relief.”

Normally when given a choice, I would have chosen her rear hole, but since she had warned me against cumming too fast, I figured I’d better go for her cunt. Even so, I was afraid that I was going to fail her. I was getting close and she was panting and grunting “Harder! Harder! Harder!” as I slammed her against the wood of the railing.
Just before my moment of no return, she started almost growling and began swirling her ass in a circle. I just rode her for a minute or two while she did that and then drew back and slammed into her as hard as I could.

Her growl became a scream as we both went over the top... literally. She clamped down super tight on my prick and stood up almost rigid. I reached around her and grabbed her breasts and pushed into her as hard as I could.

But because we were now standing up against the low deck railing, we both toppled over it and onto the grass. It wasn’t that much of a fall. We didn’t even come apart, but we did cum as we fell. After lying in the grass recovering for just a few moments, we both started laughing.

“Do you think we should try that from someplace higher,” holly said with a sly smile. “Maybe we could find a tall cliff over deep water... or both learn to sky dive.”

I stood up and said, “Or maybe we should get back to mowing the grass.”

We were about two-thirds of the way done when we stopped for lunch. After wolfing down some sandwiches in the kitchen, we laid a blanket down on the fresh-mowed grass next to the deck. There were a few bushes that cut that area off from the rest of the lawn, so it was like being in a room with no ceiling. It was a really romantic setting and holly and I lay on the blanket kissing and stroking each other.

I know that is very vanilla, but just because we are both pain sluts doesn’t mean that we don’t enjoy regular sex. Holly’s tummy and breasts are extremely sensitive even when she isn’t turned on and I was running my fingers in swirls around both nipples and then trailing my hands down to her cleanly-shaven slit.

She was just starting to moan and buck up into my hands when I felt the strong slap of a crop across my back. We had thought it would be OK if we stopped for some mutual pleasure as long as we got the job done on time.

We were wrong.

Mistress Gloria didn’t even let us finish. She pulled us apart and started hitting me on the back and ass with that long crop she always carries. She only hit holly a couple of times because that would be useless. Holly is a such perfect pain slut that she can turn any pain into pleasure... except the pain of seeing me suffer. After just a few moments we were both crying for mercy and promising that we would never do it again.

That’s when Mistress Gloria smiled at us and said, “I know you won’t.”

That smile was more terrifying that anything that Mistress said or did. We both got absolutely quiet and bowed down kneeling with our heads on the ground against our knees.

“Stay there!” she ordered and then I could hear her punching numbers into her phone. A moment later she said, “Sam, this is Gloria. We need to make a few modifications to the mowers. Our love bugs were using the grass for a snuggle nest and I need to keep them on the job.”

After listening for a few moments she laughed and said, “That might work. Bring your tools.”

She then turned to us and once again said sternly, “Stay there!”

After looking at us for a little bit, she huffed a deep sigh and put her hands on her hips. Her voice softened slightly and she said, “You may kneel at rest while we wait.”

Holly and I raised our bodies slightly so that we were now basically sitting on our feet as we knelt. I know that is a lot easier for holly to do than it is for me, but it was still a relief from holding myself totally on the ground.

It was only a few minutes before Mistress Sam and Mistress Tracy arrived. Their slaves, puddy tat and cynthia came with them. While the Mistresses were busy doing something to the mowers, puddy tat snuck over next to us and bent low.

She tsked a couple of times and then said with obvious pleasure in her voice, “Oh, you are in trouble this time.” She then giggled and said, “I hope you survive Mistress Sam’s punishment.”

Holly and I remained kneeling, but now we were both trembling slightly in fear. I wasn’t afraid that whatever the punishment was might kill us. I trusted my Mistress for that. But she had been really pissed off and I knew that this was not going to be a light punishment. Besides, she had already voiced her frustration in trying to punish a pain slut.

“What can you do,” Mistress Gloria had said harshly, “to punish someone who enjoys almost every form of pain or bondage imaginable?”

I had no doubt that Mistress Sam could think of something.

She had.

About thirty minutes later, Mistress Gloria called us over to the mowers. Mistress Sam had added something to the seats... expanding ass plugs.

“These are currently totally deflated,” Mistress Gloria said with a cold, false, smile. “But you should be able to get yourself down on them.”

“Once they are inflated, however,” Mistress Sam added ominously, “there is no way you can get off of that seat.”

Holly walked glumly over to her mower and reached down to feel the plug.

“Yes, it is lubricated,” Mistress Tracey said.

“So get your ass on that seat!” Mistress Gloria ordered.

Holly did so, but it took her a couple of minutes to slowly force the huge butt plug into her ass. I was starting to wish that I had taken holly’s ass on the porch. Then it would have already been loosened up.

My regrets were quickly assuaged, however, as holly gave a contented sigh and finished pushing herself onto the plug. Like I said, she is a perfect pain slut.

Mistress Gloria scowled over at me and I got up onto the big mower. That shiny black plug looked enormous. I tried to center my asshole over it, but I still had to slide myself back and forth a couple of times to get it right at my sphincter.

I bounced slowly up and down on it for several minutes as my asshole slowly adjusted to its size and allowed more in. The whole time, puddy tat and cheryl were smiling and smirking at me. Finally I felt the seat against my asscheeks. I reached down and pulled out on my cheeks so that I could bottom down on the plug and then sat still on the seat.

Mistress Sam reached beneath the seat and flipped a switch of some sort and I screamed. Partly it was because it took me by surprise, but mostly it was because that anal plug was now stretching me both inside and out. As the little pump continued to inflate the plug, I felt like my asshole was going to tear and I could feel the upper portion expanding against my rectum.

Mistress Gloria reached under holly’s seat and flipped a similar switch. Holly didn’t scream or cry out loudly, but she did grunt quietly as the plug expanded within her.

“Now I can trust that both of you will stick to the business at hand,” Mistress Gloria said firmly.

Both cynthia and puddy tat giggled loudly at our predicament. But those giggles changed to silent shock as Mistress Sam said harshly, “And since they can’t get off their mowers to trim the bushes and clean out the leaves, you two are going to be doing that.”

“And to make sure that you don’t shirk your duties,” Mistress Tracey said coldly, “you will be wearing these tracer plugs.”

She laughed at puddy tat’s obvious fear.

“They are remote controlled and broadcast your GPS coordinates to my computer,” she continued. “If you aren’t where you are supposed to be, I can trigger punishment shocks without even having to come up here.”

Both cynthia and puddy tat dropped to the ground in a kneeling position and said loudly, “Yes, Mistress Tracy.”
While they were kneeling, Mistress Sam came up behind each of them and forced a bright silver anal plug into their quivering assholes.

“Don’t even think about trying to remove that!” Mistress Sam growled out. “You can’t get it out fast enough to prevent it going to full power.” She laughed and added, “And the only way to shut it off is to push it back in and wait for the punishment cycle to finish.”

“I will leave additional sunscreen,” Mistress Gloria said brightly. “Cynthia, with your dark skin, you don’t need it as badly, but keep some on your shoulders and face. Puddy tat, you know how much you need and where.”

The three Mistresses then got back into the four-wheelers they had used to come up to Uncle Walter’s.  “We’ll be back for you at three o’clock,” Mistress Gloria called out. “Make sure you are done before then.”

I started up the tractor. As the engine rumbled to life, I immediately wished that it was the gasoline model rather than the Diesel. Gasoline engines run much smoother. The Diesel motor caused the seat to shake slightly. That wasn’t a problem before, but with me attached to the seat by my asshole it became a major issue.

I lowered the side mowers and went back to where I had stopped. If I went slow, it wasn’t too bad. But if I didn’t speed up a little, I wouldn’t be done by three o’clock... and that would definitely result in a real punishment. Luckily I found a medium point where the sensations in my ass weren’t too bad.

I was soon back to cutting at a good rate. I actually finished fifteen minutes early. Holly had finished even sooner than that and was waiting for me by the cabin. Meanwhile, cynthia and puddy tat were raking leaves out of the shrubs that they had just trimmed.

When Mistress Gloria arrived at three o’clock, she said calmly, “Drive the mowers down to the south cabin. You can do the grass there tomorrow.”

She smiled over at puddy tat and cynthia. “You two,” she said coldly, “can ride with me. Bring your rakes and trimmers because there are a lot more trees and bushes at the Baxter cabin than up here.”

I’m glad that I was facing away from her and she couldn’t see my broad smile. Once the Diesel was started, it was safe to laugh– a little– at how karma had caught up to puddy tat.

When we were back at Uncle Cornelius’ cabin, Mistress Sam released me and holly from our seats. “Clean those ass dildoes really well,” she said with a slight chuckle in her voice. “You are going to be riding on them tomorrow and then again on Friday and Saturday. Grass gets cut twice a week for now. That means you are on those mowers four days a week.”

I sighed and said, “Yes, Mistress.”
I thought about asking what we were supposed to do when the grass stopped growing in late June, but since Mistress Gloria arrived about then, I decided I would leave that question for later.

After supper, Mistress Gloria ordered holly and me to pleasure her. She didn’t want me inside her, but she said that she liked the firmness of my tongue as I slid it up and down her cunt. I think she also got off on the fact that as I buried my face in her slit I was getting harder and harder and couldn’t do anything about it. Holly, meanwhile, was suckling on Mistress Gloria’s nipples. With both of us lapping and slurping, it took about twenty minutes to get her to the first orgasm and then a little over a half hour to the second. The third was almost an hour later.

After the fourth orgasm, Mistress Gloria said, “I think that’s enough for today. You two can go to your quarters. You have permission to pleasure each other in whatever manner you choose for as many times as you want... or can.”

Holly and I stood up and said, “Yes, Mistress,” then we practically ran over the game room where we normally slept.

I wish I could say that we screwed like minks all night, but the reality was that we were both so tired and sore that holly just curled in next to me on the mattress and we both fell fast asleep.

Just before I fell asleep, it clicked for me. I said to an already sleeping holly, “Mistress Gloria gave us permission to do everything because she knew we were already too tired to do anything.”

I brushed my hand lightly across holly’s cheek and added, “Our Mistress does know how to punish a pain slut. You use frustration rather than pain.” Then I curled up around her and fell fast asleep.

The next day holly and I and puddy tat and cynthia mowed the grass at the south cabin. It only took a few hours. Our Mistresses let us play out in the pond after that until it was time to fix supper.

That’s how it’s gone for the past four weeks. We go up to Uncle Walter’s and mow the grass or we mow the grass here at the south cabin. If the Mistresses are in a good mood, they let us play in the water for a while. If Mistress Gloria is in a really good mood she will give holly and me permission to have sex.

Like I said, it’s boring.


Holly read what I have written so far and she thinks that I am sliding into one of my bad moods and not remembering any of the good– or at least interesting– things. I sort of have two moods. Either I am frenetically getting everything done and telling people how great things are going... or I am sitting around moping and complaining that everything is terrible.

Holly says that when I am in my bad mood, I forget all of the good things. She says I should write about the contest we had yesterday. Puddy tat found some bows and arrows in one of the sheds. There were four targets, too, so we pulled it all out and set them up next to the cabin.

The bows were pretty simple and the arrows were old, target-style ones with regular feathers, but they were fun to use. While we were shooting, the Mistresses sat on the porch watching us. Cynthia said, “We should have a contest.”

Holly objected. “Wait a minute!” she said, looking intently at cynthia. “If you are suggesting the contest, then you think you can win. You must have some experience with bows and arrows.”

Cynthia just smiled back at us.

Puddy tat said, “Maybe we have to have a contest in several areas. We could shoot the bows, swim to the other end of the cove, kayak back, and then race around the cove.”

“Whoa!” I yelled. “It’s two miles to the other end of the cove. I would tire out and drown before we got there. And even if I did, it’s at least five miles around pond cove.”

“Yeah,” holly said, “and the seaward side has all those big rocks.”

Mistress Gloria overheard us and started laughing. “I think we would enjoy watching a little competition,” she said. Then turning to Mistress Sam and Mistress Tracey she asked, “What do you think?”

“I think puddy tat has a good idea,” Mistress Tracey said, “but it needs a few tweaks. They shoot their arrows first, like puddy tat suggested, but the kayaks should be waiting for them about a hundred yards out. Then they paddle to the other end and run back on the sandy, landward side of the cove.”

Mistress Sam replied, “That sounds good.” Then she added ominously, “... but there needs to be some incentive to make sure they all give it their best.”

“Hmm,” said Mistress Gloria, “that might be difficult. What is punishment for puddy tat or cynthia might be pleasure for holly or even weird worm. So it has to be something they would all hate.”

“Vanity, vanity,” Mistress Tracey said slowly, “there is no greater punishment than an attack on one’s vanity.”

“What are you suggesting?” asked Mistress Sam.

“All four of them are very vain about their hair,” Mistress Tracey answered. “Even weird worm walter is always making sure his hair is properly in place. I am suggesting that the loser loses her... or his hair... all of it.”
“None of them have anything from the neck down,” Mistress Gloria said, “so that means they would be risking their hair and eyebrows.”

All four of us gasped and looked at each other. “Mistresses, please,” puddy tat stammered out, “I didn’t mean something so severe as that.”

“I did,” Mistress Tracey answered coldly. “You four have been getting much too independent lately. I think it is time for you to be reminded who is in charge.”

Mistress Gloria started barking out orders. “Puddy tat, you move those four targets over to the beach. Cynthia, you help Mistress Sam take four kayaks out about a hundred yards into the pond. Tow that wooden swim raft out there and drop both of its anchors to hold it in place. You can tie the kayaks off to the raft. Worm and holly, you make sure that there are at least six good arrows for each of the four bows.”

We all yelled “Yes, Mistress,” and scampered off to our appointed tasks. About twenty minutes later the four of us were standing on the beach each holding a bow. Six arrows were stuck into the sand at our feet.

“This is the way it is going to work,” Mistress Tracey said sternly. “When I say go, you start shooting at the targets. Once you have one arrow in the red bulls’ eye... or two in the blue or closer... or three on the target, you run for the water and swim for the raft where the kayaks are tied up. You paddle as fast as you can for the dock at Uncle Walter’s cabin, tie your kayak up there and run back here on the beach.”

She paused to look at each of us and then said, “Does everyone understand that?”

“Yes, Mistress Tracey,” we answered in unison.

In response she yelled, “GO!” and we each grabbed an arrow and tried our first shot.

Holly put hers in the blue; Puddy tat barely hit the target, but it stuck in the white; Cynthia totally missed her target; and I... I put an arrow almost in the middle of the bulls eye.

I stood there staring at it until holly yelled at me, “Run, stupid.”

I ran into the water and pushed myself into the deeper portion so I could start swimming. Behind me I could hear the thunk of more arrows hitting the targets. Holly must have hit another blue because I heard someone splashing close behind me. After another “thunk” I heard someone else enter the water. I was almost at the raft when I heard more thunks and whoever was in last place began splashing loudly as she tried to catch up.

I had a headstart on the rest, but paddling a kayak has never been one of my strengths. Holly soon passed me and puddy tat was catching up with me. I didn’t dare look back to see how close cynthia was when I pulled up alongside the dock.
I don’t know how people get out of kayaks in a hurry. It takes me forever. By the time I was out of the stupid thing, holly was already racing back to her uncle’s cabin. Puddy tat practically jumped out of hers and was right behind me when I got to the beach. Cynthia rammed my kayak where it was tied up alongside the dock. She evidently knew what she was doing, though, because she slid right over my kayak and up onto the dock. Then all she had to do was roll out of the kayak and start running.

Holly was a good ways ahead of us when we started, but we were going to be running almost two miles. A lot can– and did– happen in two miles. I’ve never been real fast, but I ran cross country in high school and long distances don’t bother me that much. I just kept pounding along and hoped that the girls would tire.

They did, but their tired, slow pace was still faster than me. I never caught holly, and puddy tat passed me about half way to the south cabin. Cynthia was a long ways behind me, but I could hear her gaining on me.

I was supposed to start teaching this fall, and the prospect of being totally bald gave me a little boost. Despite the fear and adrenalin I could tell that it was going to be close. We were almost back to the beach where the Mistresses were waiting for us.

I could see cynthia out of the corner of my eye. She was just a little behind me and gaining with every step. Then she was alongside me. She turned over to look at me and mouthed– or maybe said aloud– “Loser!”

That’s when she tripped and fell flat on her face in the sand. Well, it wasn’t really flat on her face. She landed on her shoulder, but it was an almost comical splat into the sand.

I kept going the couple more steps to the finish line and then bent over to cough and gasp for air. “I didn’t lose,” I gasped out as holly came over to me. “I didn’t lose.”

“No,” holly said sadly, “cynthia did.”

“Would you have rather it had been me?” I asked. I think the disappointment and anger showed in my voice.

“No,” she answered slowly, “it had to be one of us. It’s just that cynthia doesn’t get any real pleasure out of all of this.”

“Then why did she submit herself?”

“I think it was because she feels guilty about growing up as a black white girl in a rich, white family,” holly explained. “This is her way of punishing herself.”

“Oh,” I said. I was going to ask for more explanation, but Mistress Gloria’s loud voice cut me off.
“Cynthia,” Mistress Gloria boomed out, “get your sorry black ass over here.” She was pointing down at the ground at her feet.

Cynthia hurried over and knelt in the slave submission position at Mistress Gloria’s feet. “Since she is my slave,” Mistress Sam said, “I think I should be the one to shear her.”

Mistress Gloria nodded and Mistress Tracey yelled out, “Puddy tat! You know what we need– the hair trimmers, the razor, and the cream.”

“No,” Mistress Sam said quickly, “no cream. This was to be a temporary punishment, not something permanent.” She paused and said more quietly, “Besides, I think something else is going on here.”

Puddy tat bobbed her head and said a quick, “Yes, Mistress,” before scurrying off to the cabin to get the hair trimmers and razor.”

Mistress Sam then said to cynthia, “Bring your body upright with your knees fully bent,” and cynthia  immediately raised the upper portion of her body so that her head was about at Mistress Sam’s waist level.

“Stay there,” Mistress Sam ordered as she turned to take the trimmer from puddy tat.

She switched it on and quickly cut a swatch straight down the center of cynthia’s long, straight, black hair. I was surprised that cynthia wasn’t crying. She didn’t even look sad. Holly had told me that cynthia didn’t get pleasure from any of this, but it didn’t look like she was suffering. She didn’t look happy either. To me she just looked calm... very calm... as her hair fell to the ground.

She didn’t react when Mistress Sam ran the trimmer across her eyebrows either. Her only reaction was when Mistress Sam started smearing the shaving cream on her head. It must have felt cold or something because cynthia gasped slightly.

When Mistress Sam was finished, she used a towel to wipe leftover saving cream from cynthia’s head and then ordered, “Present yourself!”

Cynthia popped to her feet and stood at attention with her hands locked behind her now bald head and her feet wide apart so that her sex was slightly gaping open.

“Puddy tat,” Mistress Sam said firmly, “oil her. If she is going to look her best, her body should be shining.”

“Yes, Mistress,” puddy tat said as she started for the cabin for the spray bottle of baby oil.

“And make sure you rub it into her skin,” Mistress Sam said. “... ALL of her skin.”

Puddy tat stopped a moment and turned back toward Mistress Sam. She looked like she wanted to ask something, then said loudly, “Oh,” and continued on into the cabin.

Puddy tat returned a few moments later with a bottle of baby oil and a spray bottle, also filled with baby oil.

“You are not to come out of that position,” Mistress Sam ordered cynthia, “no matter what happens.” She then said very harshly. “Is that understood?”

“Yes, Mistress Sam,” cynthia answered.

“And you,” she continued, looking over at puddy tat, “you make sure that you rub that oil thoroughly into her skin. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Mistress Sam,” puddy tat answered.

Mistress Sam then turned to the other Mistresses and said, “Let’s go watch this from the porch.”

She looked at holly and me and then pointed at the ground. “You watch it from here,” she said firmly. “Relaxed kneeling posture.”

“Yes, Mistress Sam,” holly and I answered in unison as we knelt where she had been pointing.

As the Mistresses were walking up to the porch, I turned to holly and asked, “What’s going on?”

“You really don’t know, do you?” holly replied, looking at me like I was stupid or something.

“No,” I replied, “I really don’t know.”

“Then watch and learn,” she answered with a smile. “You might be ordered to do this to me some day.”

Puddy tat started with cynthia’s legs. She sprayed oil all over the skin and then started to rub it in. As cynthia’s black skin began to glisten, her well-developed muscles showed even more clearly. Puddy tat poured some oil into her hands and reached up to apply it to cynthia’s arms. Then she poured some directly on cynthia’s head and began to rub it into her scalp. She did the same on cynthia’s back and then on her front. As puddy tat began rubbing the oil into cynthia’s chest, she took extra care to massage it into her breasts.

Cynthia started to moan slightly as puddy tat carefully rubbed the oil into each nipple. I turned to holly and said, “Now I get it.”

Holly just looked back at me and said derisively, “Dense.”

Maybe I am. Or maybe I just didn’t think of what all Mistress Sam might have meant when she ordered puddy tat to rub the oil thoroughly into ALL of cynthia’s skin.
Puddy tat was now oiling cynthia’s stomach and ass. She was standing behind her and her fingers were sliding up between cynthia’s outstretched legs. Cynthia was moaning louder, but her body was not moving.

Puddy tat pressed her body up against cynthia’s and reached around with one hand to again rub oil into cynthia’s breasts and nipples. The other hand was rubbing oil into cynthia’s slit, though cynthia’s own fluids which were flowing out of her cunt were more copious and probably slicker than the baby oil.

Cynthia’s moans became a little more shrill and puddy tat’s rubbing became more frantic. Puddy tat was also grinding herself vigorously against cynthia’s ample ass. Soon both slaves were quivering heavily and puddy tat was making short yelping noises. Then both girls became almost rigid. Puddy tat pulled herself tight against cynthia’s body and shuddered in orgasm. Cynthia shuddered slightly less, but it was obvious that despite not breaking the display position, she was experiencing what appeared to be an intense orgasm.

Puddy tat stood hugging cynthia until Mistress Sam called from the porch, “I think that is enough oil for today.” She then ordered holly, puddy tat, and me to go inside and start fixing supper. She told cynthia to stay in position until after everyone had eaten and then come into the kitchen.


I was the one sent out to get cynthia after supper. I had been told not to yell, so I walked around in front of her. She was staring out at the cove and ocean and smiling. “You can come in now,” I said as I stood in front of her.

As she came out of the display posture, I said, “Puddy tat has good hands.”

“Yes,” she replied, “but I was thinking about something else.”

“What?” I asked.

She looked at me and reached up to run one hand across her slick, bald head. “I will tell you someday,” she said. “I will tell you all.”

Holly had already called me dense so I just accepted that I had no idea what cynthia was talking about and started walking back to the cabin. I let cynthia lead the way, though. I may be dense, but I’m not going to pass up the opportunity to watch a really nice oiled ass walk in front of me on the beach.


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