Framed By Desire

“Undress from the waist down.” Master T’s order was curt.

“Yes, Master T,” Jennie replied at once.

She kicked off her shoes, unbuttoned her jeans, and wriggled out of them before tossing them into a heap.

“Ahem.” Master T cleared his throat.

“Forgive me, Master T.”

Scowling, Jennie carefully folded her jeans and placed them neatly on the floor. Veronica could not suppress a smile at the reprimand. Jennie was clearly eighteen, but she behaved like a sullen fifteen-year-old.

Jennie must have noticed the smile, because her expression darkened even further as she hooked her fingers into the waistband of her black hipster panties. She quickly dragged them down over her bony hips, exposing a smoothly shaven pussy with a small, round tuft of dark hair just above her slit.

For a few seconds, she stood with the panties in her hand. She seemed to be thinking, as though weighing her options. Then she stepped toward Veronica and pulled them over her head.

Master T laughed, and Jennie took a satisfied step back.

The panties completely covered one of Veronica’s eyes. The crotch lay directly over her nose and smelled exactly as one might imagine a pair of panties that had spent several hours pressed against the wool seat of a hot Volvo would smell: sweet-and-sour sweat with a faint hint of salt.

Veronica had never felt so humiliated. She was muddy and naked, and now she also had a pair of damp panties pulled over her face. Her only consolation was that Jennie was naked too, at least from the waist down.

Jennie positioned herself against the wall behind Master T’s armchair and leaned forward, bracing both hands against it. Her pale, bony ass pointed straight at Veronica, who could see everything with her uncovered eye: a dark asshole and, just below it, a faintly glistening pussy. Jennie rocked slowly back and forth.

Master T rose and crossed to the large cabinet behind Veronica. She heard him rummaging through its contents. There was a faint rustling and clattering before he returned to her field of vision.

He held a riding crop in one hand, tapping it slowly against his open palm. He took his place beside Jennie and regarded Veronica and the other slaves.

“You may as well learn this now,” he said, indicating Jennie’s thigh with the crop. “This area is quite painful.”

He let the tip of the crop travel to the narrow crease between her thigh and buttock.

“This is generally the most painful area.”

Finally, he stroked Jennie’s buttock with the crop.

“Ordinarily, this area is the least painful. On this thin, flat ass, however, it is considerably more sensitive.”

He struck the crop hard against his palm. Jennie flinched.

“Slave A, how many strokes do you believe she deserves?”

“I-I don’t know, Master T. Ten?” the blond woman replied.

“That is rather lenient.” Master T turned his gaze to the man on the floor. “Slave E, what do you say?”

“Double it, Master T,” he replied.

“Excellent.” Master T looked at Veronica. “And you, Slave V? Where should the strokes fall?”

Veronica thought about what Jennie had done to her. She could smell the woman’s sweaty pussy. The mud on her ass had dried and now pulled tightly at her skin. Then she thought of the slap.

“Ten strokes across the crease between her thighs and buttocks, and ten across her bony ass, Master T.”

“Excellent.”

He slowly rolled up his shirtsleeves.

“Count with me.”

Crack!

“One!” they all said in unison, while Jennie remained completely impassive.

As the whipping continued, it became increasingly difficult for her to remain still and silent. At “seventeen,” she twisted sharply. At “eighteen,” the first whimper escaped her. At “nineteen,” she stamped one foot against the floor, and at “twenty,” she cried out.

Jennie breathed heavily. Veronica watched her ass grow redder by the second. It looked excruciatingly tender.

“And now five extra for that little trick with the panties.”

Master T brought the crop down harder than ever. Jennie screamed at each of the four strokes that followed.

Veronica enjoyed it.

Master T took a silk cloth from his pocket and calmly wiped down the riding crop before returning it to the cabinet, closing the door, and settling back into the armchair. “Thank you, Jennie. You may stand up again.” Jennie resumed her earlier position, her hands clasped behind her back and her chest thrust forward. She looked ridiculous standing there naked on her thin, knobby legs, still wearing the bulky bomber jacket. Whatever protective feelings Veronica might have had for the young woman were buried deep in the back of her mind. She loved seeing Jennie standing there with her ass bright red from the crop and her pussy on full display.

“Well then, perhaps we can begin,” Master T said as he made himself comfortable. “Slave A, remove your clothes. Since Slave V looks rather amusing in her shoes, you may keep yours on as well.”

The blond woman to Veronica’s left removed her cardigan and pulled the dress over her head. She stood uncertainly with the clothes in her hands until Master T gave Jennie an almost imperceptible nod. Jennie stepped forward, snatched the garments away, and disappeared into the hall. Veronica could see the blond woman only from the corner of her eye and could make out little about her appearance. Master T rose and walked several slow circles around his slaves. He stopped behind Veronica. She felt the heat of his body and swallowed.

He nudged her legs apart with his foot until her feet were roughly two feet apart. He then slid one hand between her buttocks and up to her pussy. His middle and index fingers moved easily up and down her slit, and she could hear how wet she was. He traced several circles around her rock-hard clit, sending shock waves from her crotch through her stomach, up her spine, and into her brain. It felt incredible, but the moment she whimpered, he pinched her clit hard. The leap from pleasure to pain took only a fraction of a second. Then it was over, and he resumed stroking his fingers up and down as his other hand found one of her nipples and pinched. Veronica bit her lip to keep from making another sound. At the same time, Jennie returned and took her place beside the armchair.

Master T finished by pushing both fingers inside her and finger-fucking her for several seconds before moving on to the blond woman. From the corner of her eye, Veronica watched him make the woman lick his fingers clean before he stepped behind her and appeared to give her the same treatment Veronica had just received.

Veronica tried once again to marshal her thoughts. Her mind struggled to calm her body, bring her thoughts into line, and regain hold of her original plan. But her mind did not stand a chance against her pussy. All she could think about was what was happening now. Never in her life had she been so completely in the present. Everything that had come before was a distant, impenetrable haze; what might happen fifteen minutes from now seemed an eternity away. All she wanted was for Master T to touch her again. Her thoughts were interrupted when he lifted the panties covering her face just enough to expose her mouth. He pushed his fingers between her lips, wet and slippery with the blond woman’s pussy juices. The taste was awful. It was absolutely wonderful. Veronica could not help sucking gently on his fingers. She saw one corner of his mouth lift in a smile.

Master T settled into the armchair once more.

“Slave A and Slave V, turn and face each other,” he commanded calmly.

Veronica turned and found the blond woman standing a few feet away. If Veronica’s instructions had been to shave herself completely, the other woman’s must have been the exact opposite. Her pussy was covered in thick, long blond pubic hair. There was no telling what lay beneath it. Veronica could, however, see it glistening. Glistening with pussy juice.

“Slave A, tell me what you see. Be precise. Begin at the top,” Master T instructed.

The blond woman studied Veronica before she began.

“I see a woman. Fairly tall, perhaps five foot nine. A little older than me—thirty-one or thirty-two, perhaps. Red hair, neatly styled. No earrings or piercings. An ordinary face, nothing unusual, apart from the black panties covering half of it. She looks tense, Master T.”

She narrowed her eyes.

“Green eyes.”

“Good. Continue in the same manner,” Master T said from the armchair.

“A slender neck, broad shoulders, strong arms. No trace of nail polish, Master T.”

She paused for a moment.

“Fairly small but firm breasts. She appears to have strong pectoral muscles. Small areolas, average-sized nipples. A flat stomach—no visible abs, but no fat either, Master T.”

“Very good. Continue,” Master T said.

“Narrow hips, shaved pussy. It looks aroused and swollen. I can see strands of pussy juice hanging from it, Master T.”

Veronica swallowed. Standing there while someone appraised her like this was deeply uncomfortable.

“Long legs, knobby knees, large feet. She is very dirty, particularly her legs and ass,” the blond woman continued.

“Excellent. Very good. Now I want you to say something unkind about her appearance.” Master T steepled his fingers.

The blonde met Veronica’s gaze. She looked frightened and apologetic.

“Her breasts aren’t particularly attractive. They look hard and angular, Master T.”

“Continue,” Master T urged.

Her gaze darted up and down.

“I-I don’t know, Master T. She looks rather boring. Serious. No adornments. Fit, Master T.”

“A perceptive observation, Slave A. What would you imagine she does for a living?” Master T asked.

Veronica felt her stomach turn to ice. She had told Master T that she worked at a preschool.

“Considering how fit she is and how dull she looks, I would say a security guard. Military. Or a police officer,” the blond woman replied.

“Interesting.” Master T fixed Veronica with an intense stare. “Interesting.”

“Now, Slave V, what do you see before you?” Master T asked.

Don’t rattle off a police description, Veronica told herself. Don’t sound neutral.

“A woman between twenty-five and thirty. Short—five foot five. Pale skin. Short blond hair that looks freshly cut, styled in spikes. Black earrings, a septum ring. Red lips, heavy makeup, Master T.”

“Excellent. Continue,” Master T prompted.

“She looks kind. I think she uses the piercings and the hairstyle to make herself appear tough, Master T.”

The blond woman stared at Veronica in surprise.

“Average shoulders. No muscle definition in her arms whatsoever. A large tattoo runs from her neck down her right arm. I can’t make out the design. Blond hair protrudes from her armpits, Master T.”

This was easy, Veronica thought, and continued.

“Large breasts that sag slightly. The left is larger than the right. Large nipples, large areolas. A fairly round stomach, wide hips. Her pussy is covered in blond hair. I can see that it’s wet. A large ass, Master T.”

Veronica tilted her head slightly.

“Her ass is covered in cellulite. Short, thick legs, with tattoos on both of them. Her legs are unshaven, Master T.”

Master T laughed.

“I was going to ask you to say something unkind, but you have already taken care of that yourself. Wouldn’t you agree, Jennie?”

“Ha! Yes, Master T,” Jennie replied.

“And what do you believe she does for a living?” Master T asked.

“Something involving children. Perhaps she works in childcare, Master T,” Veronica replied before she could think better of it.

“Just like you, you mean. Interesting,” Master T observed.

Veronica cursed her sluggish mind.

“Finally, I want both of you to describe Slave E,” Master T concluded.

Both women turned toward the man on the floor.

“A white man, somewhere between thirty and forty, Master T,” Veronica said.

“Dark hair, clean-shaven,” the blonde continued.

“Slender and small, perhaps five foot seven. It’s difficult to tell, Master T,” Veronica added.

“An average-sized cock. It’s erect and looks extremely hard,” the blonde supplied.

“Quite cute, almost feminine, Master T,” Veronica finished.

“Good. Or what do you think, Slave E?” Master T asked.

“I-I don’t know. Yes, Master T,” came the man’s reply.

“Return to your positions, please.”

The two women resumed their places before Master T. Veronica was beginning to realize it would be a long time before the handcuffs and the panties over her head came off.

“What does Jennie believe the next step should be? How would you proceed if these were your slaves?” Master T addressed her as a teacher might address a student.

Jennie appeared to consider the question.

“I think, Master T... I believe I would establish a hierarchy.” She nodded to herself. “Yes. Then everyone would know their value,” she finished proudly.

“And how would Jennie arrange this hierarchy?”

“Master T at the top, of course, and then me, far below. At the very bottom is that.” She pointed to the naked man. “And between him and me, Master T, we have these two horny sluts: the monkey and the pig.” Pleased with her choices, she pointed first at the blond woman and then at Veronica.

“Are they on the same level, or would one rank above the other?” Master T asked quietly.

“I’m not entirely sure, Master T. The monkey was more obedient—more slave-like—but the pig is the fucking horniest thing I’ve ever seen. Look!”

Jennie rushed over to Veronica and pinched and tugged at her labia. She held up her hand for Master T to see. It was completely coated, pussy slime dripping from her fingers and running down her palm. Master T smiled as Jennie wiped her hand on the panties covering Veronica’s face.

Jennie returned to her place. “I’m not quite sure how to rank them. Perhaps they should compete for it?”

“How?” Master T’s reply was brief.

“A contest of three rounds. I’ll place the loser beneath the disgusting thing on the floor.”

She had a gift for nicknames, Veronica thought.