Gay Erotic Stories

Chapter 33 - A Day in Denver Mom, Dad, Abby and Betty had left to drive to the airport. I had to put all four of them in trances to make them quit asking why Cathy was not going home with them. After the trance, they understood Cathy was going to live with us until further notice and asked no more questions. They did not know she was going to live naked in my dungeon, my prisoner until I had another way to keep her securely. As I thought about Cathy there, naked, the steel collar around her lovely neck, the heavy chain locked to the thick O-ring embedded in the concrete, my cock twitched and I shivered. I kissed Mom and Dad the way a son kisses a parent. When I kissed Abby and Betty, I let my hand roam over their bottoms, checking to make sure the butt plugs were still in place. Both of them giggled and told me they understood the plugs were there until they could accommodate a cock up their behind with reasonable easiness. Both of sisters gave me sweet kisses on the lips, although Betty did flick a little tongue and gave me a slutty look when she broke the kiss. I checked on Cathy, gave her a bathroom break, locked the house, loaded Mary and Andy in the Suburban and headed toward Denver. We had a noon appointment with Maria. As you remember, Uncle Bert said she had one of the final two pieces necessary to replicate the formula. Mary was driving and I was in the back seat to catch a little nap when I felt a tap on my leg. It was Mary tapping me. When she caught my eye, she nodded at Andy, who was riding shotgun. Andy was crying silently. “Hey, hey. Come here, kitten,” I said. Andy shook her head and refused to look at me. I tried cajoling her but to no avail. Finally, I ordered her into the back seat with me. She could not refuse an order. She was a kitten. But, I did not order her to talk to me. She sat in the corner, scrunched up against the door as I tried to figure out what was wrong. I asked Mary but she had no idea. Finally, I tried the old-fashioned way. I yanked her on my lap and made her sit there. She squirmed a minute, then settled down. The squirming was delightful and raised other interests, but there is a time and place for everything. She put her head on my chest and sniffled. “Okay, Andy, what is wrong?” “I understand, Davy. And, I love you. I will always love you, no matter what.” That was cryptic and very female. I thought about her comment just an hour ago, when she was so bubbly and happy. You remember that comment. They are mysterious creatures. “No matter what? What does that mean?” If I did not know better, I would have guessed Andy had hurt feelings over another woman, which is jealousy, in essence. But, she was programmed not to be jealous. I did remember when she was anxious over Lisa. Andy had said then she just did not want to be abandoned, that she wanted to be a big part of my life. Uncle Bert had programmed Mary and Andy in interesting ways. If he was going to program her not to be jealous, why leave a hole so she was disturbed over other women in my life. I mean, he gave me all those kittens. I know he must have had the same problem with Mary. Andy sniffled and spoke. “Cathy.” “Cathy?” “Yes. Cathy.” “What about Cathy?” “You don’t love me, do you?” “Of course, I love you. I love very much.” “Aha! I knew it. You love Cathy more than you love me.” She was sitting up now, those blue eyes small and pointed, burning a hole right through me. I bet every male reader is saying yes, that sounds like my woman. And all of you ladies are saying, who, me? Now, if I really wanted to get rich, I would program woman not to do this to us men. Guys would pay a lot for that, I know. But, then, look at how much fun we would miss in working out the problems. “Oh, Andy, I love you much, much more than I love Cathy or anybody else in the world.” “No, you don’t. You keep her protected, hid away where guys can’t get to her or even see her, but you let me walk around, just free as a bird. See!” She began to cry again, not hard, a few tears and sniffles. I said nothing. “Oh, Davy, I don’t mind you fucking other women. You know that. I enjoy seeing you with them, seeing you happy. I enjoy being with them, for you, because that makes you happy. You know I will do anything to make you happy, sweetheart. But, oh, I just want to, well, I want, dammit, I want to be number one!” “You are, sweetheart. You are.” I spent the rest of my way to Denver talking to my favorite kitten. You know how things go. We talked, with her tense and cold on my lap as I cajoled and wheedled. Then, she started to relax, to understand I did really love her. She started to feel guilty about accusing me which made her want to cuddle, wrapping her arms around me, her breath hot and sweet on my neck, her breasts crushed against me. She had been shifting in my lap for some time. We kept cuddling, touching, whispering, making up. Making up makes me horny (okay, I am always horny). You know how things go. “Hey, you two! We are in city traffic here,” Mary called out as Andy and I crawled into the back of the big Suburban where we could lie down. Andy giggled. “It’s okay. So what of someone sees us,” she whispered, her eyes aglow. Is that the same woman who was crying half an hour ago? Then, reason kicked in. Oh, well. There was always tonight. As I lay in the back of the Suburban with Andy nestled in my arms, I watched the looks from the drivers of trucks and pickups staring in the windows at us. We were totally dressed but still they stared. Andy did not notice them, or, if she did, she did not care. She was happy being in my arms. While she was there, I thought. I thought long and hard until we reached Maria’s house. Since her name was Maria and I was to ask for a recipe for tamales, I presumed Maria was Hispanic. Wrong. Maria was Polish and lived in a lovely brick house in a nice suburban neighborhood with kids playing in the street and bikes everywhere. She was about sixty-five, a lovely widow who had raised four children and buried a husband after a life long marriage. We had a delightful visit before I put her in her trance. When I asked for the recipe for tamales, she went into the kitchen. In a moment, she returned with her recipe folder, which was yellowed with age. She sat down by the lamp and put on her bifocals. Mumbling to herself, she sorted through the T section, finally withdrawing an envelope, which she handed to me. On the outside was neatly printed, “Open in private.” We said our good-byes to Maria and jumped back in the Suburban. Andy was at the wheel. Mary was on the cell phone checking the messages. “Where to, sweetheart?” I gave her the name of the store and she turned beet red. Then, she giggled and headed us out. I had told her to go to the exotic boutique where I bought the neat bondage stuff. “We have another stop to make,” Mary announced. “Lisa called. Her plane for Denver left LA ten minutes ago.” Lisa! Damn! I had not thought about her in the last few days but I had told her she was welcome to return, under certain conditions. Remember, Lisa was my old girlfriend. Andy uncovered her deep submissive bent, which we started developing before she went back to LA for Christmas. Now, she was coming back. I was glad to have her but the timing could not be worse with Cathy in the dungeon and me on the edge of getting the formula. But, I could not leave Lisa sitting at the airport. I would have to work it out somehow. I pushed Lisa out of mind for the moment and opened the envelope. It contained a poem. Of course, Uncle Bert was no poet but his intention was not to create art. It was to give me a message, I hoped a message that would put just one step from the end of my treasure hunt. Here is what he wrote: “Kittens sweet, bound as one by woven fur, Paws entwined to the cows’ own rhyme, First heard long ago in summertime, One sings the song, while the other purrs.” Uncle Bert was cryptic sometimes, although I knew exactly what he meant, and you probably do, too. Isn’t it interesting how he always manages to work sex into everything? He was a horny old tomcat. At the exotic boutique, I bought what I thought I would need for my kittens and for the two women in my life who were not kittens, Cathy and Lisa. Then, I got an idea. I talked to the proprietor, borrowed a tape measure and took Andy into a dressing room. I had her strip and started measuring her. I was measuring her entire body, particularly all the dimensions of her crotch. All of them, such as the length and width of her pussy. Of course, when measuring someone, you have to touch them and I always like touching Andy. “Stand up straight and quit quivering.” “I can’t help it. What are doing down there?” “Measuring your pussy. Be still.” “I can’t be still. You try to be still when someone is measuring your pussy.” “I don’t have a pussy.” “You know what I mean. Oh, Davy, haven’t you measured enough?” She was starting to drip and whimper. Our session in the car had us both a little on edge, so to speak. When I locked the dressing room door and dropped my pants, Andy giggled, her eyes big, her face wild. She turned around and bent over, bracing herself on the small bench and wiggling her ass, as if I needed direction or encouragement. Doggie style, I slid into her, hands on her hips as she pushed herself back into me. “Quiet, little lady.” “Certainly, David. Very quiet, I think would be best.” We tried to be quiet but quiet is a relative term. There in the dressing room area we sounded really loud to me. I heard another dressing room door slam, then another. Soon, we heard other people pounding away, balls slapping against pussies, moaning, whimpering. The smell of other pussies wafted through the air. Sweet Andy came quietly as she always did when programmed this way. I slipped out of her without ejaculating, turned her around and let her clean me up in her own, most delightful, way as she knelt on the floor. When we left the dressing room, Mary was grinning like a hooker. The owner of the boutique was nonplused. He just grinned and said, “good for business.” I gave him all my orders, took what was ready and left. “What did you special order, Davy?” Andy asked. “Something for you. Now, it is a surprise. Don’t ask again.” She wanted to ask but could not since I had given an order. With a sigh, she tucked her arm through mine and leaned against as we walked out. Denver International was wild with people. After all, it was three days after Christmas. We arrived at the gate a little late to find Lisa already off the plane and wringing her hands with worry, although people were still exiting her flight. The three girls ran to each other, hugging and chattering as I waited. Then, Lisa walked over to me, looking very shy. She was red faced with excitement, unable to stand still. It was good to see her again and she looked wonderful. I wanted to hug her, but we needed to start properly. “Welcome back, Lisa. Did you come on the terms I set out?” ”Yes, sir,” she whispered, not looking at me but with her eyes downcast. “What are they?” “As your slave. Your complete and total slave.” You know I really like Lisa. But, there was something in me that wanted to take her as far as possible in her submission. Why, you might ask, would a man who has 3,000 women already programmed to be his slaves want an un-programmed slave? Exactly for that reason. She was unprogrammed. I wanted to know how she would react, how she would accept her submission when that submission must come from something already within her and not something I gave her in a drink. Mary handed me the new collar I had bought Lisa. It was wider and thicker than the other one, sturdier. While a casual observer might not notice the other was a bondage collar, this was definitely noticeable. It had a lock in back and a big O-ring in front. “Turn your back to me and raise your hair, Lisa.” I could see the humiliation in her face, feel it flowing off her in waves like an outgoing tide. Her face was begging me to save her this embarrassment. Embarrassment? How would Andy have reacted if she were un-programmed? What would she have done when I took her naked and bound to the B&D party? How would she have reacted on the streets of San Francisco when I dressed her as a hooker? Would she have rebelled? And, Mary. Nothing seemed to bother Mary. Would she be embarrassed by anything? I realized I wanted to embarrass Lisa. I wanted to see her reactions, her face, her body language, to tell me what an un-programmed woman was like? But, could I even get a fair reading from her? I do not think Lisa was typical of all women in that respect. All women would not like to surrender to a man, a man to guide and control them. They would not want to show their love, their need, their sexuality, their feminity, by submitting so openly. Or, would they? Perhaps down deep in their guts, somewhere in their psyche, would they? Well, would you? I slipped the collar around her neck with the O-ring in front, fastened the clasp and locked it with a padlock. I clicked it hard and she jumped when she heard the hasp hitting home. “Turn around, Lisa, and look me right in the eye.” She turned to face me. What a struggle was within her to look me in the eye. Once, twice, three times she tried, only to look away. She was red as a beet. Out of all the people scurrying about, all the movement, something caught my eye. He was there. Diablo. The devil dog. Sitting, watching me as I carried Lisa through this humiliation. Strangely, no one else saw him, yet they knew he was there and avoided the area in which he sat. I turned back to her, to my slave. “Is this humiliating for you, Lisa?” “Yes, sir,” she sobbed. “Are you enjoying it?” What does enjoy mean? Do we enjoy a roller coaster as it makes our heart skip beats? Do we enjoy horror movies? Fast cars? Motorcycles? Do we enjoy fear? Do we, sometimes, enjoy humiliation? Or, the fear of humiliation? “Please, master,” she whimpered. “Answer me.” Her head popped up to stare, her eyes holding mine. I could see her answer, but, she said it. “Yes, sir.” She held my gaze until I spoke again. By then, people had noticed us. They pointed or looked or whispered. Some kept walking, some stopped to watch. Some were almost comical. Their eyes would pass over us, then come back, realizing something was happening. Still walking, they would stare, then stop in mid-stride, mouths open, before hurrying on again. “Lisa, I have a leash for you. When you see one of us coming toward you with the leash, you will stop. You will put your hands behind you, grabbing one wrist with the other hand. You will arch your back slightly, turn your head to the left and raise it so the leash can be attached.” “Please, no” she mouthed. Mary moved to her. I saw her hand on Lisa’s arm, and her other gently rubbing Lisa’s back for reassurance. Think about it. Could you be collared and leashed in a major airport in full view of everyone and not be apprehensive? Standing there before how many unknown eyes, docilely letting someone put a leather collar around your neck, raising your hair for them to lock your collar in place? Andy was standing on Lisa’s other side now. Lisa found reassurance in them, I guess, because she put her arms behind her back, arched, turned and raised just as I had instructed. I attached the leash to her collar and gave it to Mary, telling her to lead on. I wanted to watch the reaction, so I walked a few paces behind them. As you know, beautiful women are observed any place they go. Here is the picture for you. Mary, a beautiful and sexy blonde, was dressed in expensive black winter-wool slacks which fit snugly and sexy in a classy way. She wore a bright, multicolor sweater on top which, although loose, shouted to the watcher because of the way it fit her breasts. Andy, sexy, sweet Andy, wore skin tight levis with boots and a ski skin, both fitting like a second skin. Andy alone would draw traffic. Lisa, brunette, dark, very pretty, wore a navy suit with a tasteful red stripe running diagonally from top to bottom. The suit was well tailored and fit snugly. The skirt came to mid thigh. She had on hose and heels. Lisa also wore a leather collar, to which a leash was attached. Mary was leading her by the leash through the airport. We got a lot of glances. We got stares, leers and several people who just came up and started talking. We also garnered one city cop checking to see if Lisa needed any help, or at least, that is what he said. The city cop was a big, Irish looking guy about late twenties who could hardly walk his pecker was so hard from my women. He escorted us the rest of the way and make sure we got into our vehicle without a problem. I gave him our telephone number and invited him to call. I knew Lisa was going to be all right because she flirted with the cop as he walked us out. Lisa wanted the cop to notice her, to think she was attractive and sexy but she was with her man, that is, she was with me. She did not want her man to know that she was flirting with another man. But, oh, she wanted to flirt. All you girls know exactly how she acted. You guys probably know, too. Mary took the drivers chair with Lisa and Andy in the backseat. As soon as the door was shut, they started to giggle and talk like teenaged girl friends, which is what they were. They did not even hear me tell Mary to drive to the tattoo parlor. But, they got very quiet when we pulled up out front. We got the same guy who had pierced Lisa a few days ago. (My Lord, it seemed like months so much had happened.) He gave us a big grin remembering our visit. “Man, who is this one?” he said, leering at Mary. She blushed like a school girl and gave me a wild look which asked if she could flirt. I grinned back at her, not giving her any signals about “going” or “stopping.” So, she stopped with a sigh. She was a kitten and had no choice, or, she had free will and made a decision. I wondered which it was. “What can I do for you today?” he asked, his eyes never leaving Mary. I turned to my three women. All three were watching me expectantly. “Lisa, remove all your clothes.” I expected reluctance. I got a shy smile as she began taking off her clothes. The attendant suggested we use topical anesthetic but I told him no. Mary held one leg down and Andy the other as I stood above her head and held her arms. “All through,” he announced later. Lisa had been pierced. A small brad resided through her tongue which I was looking forward to feeling on my cock. Each nipple had a small gold ring. And, we had added another ring through her pussy, actually through her right labia at the vestibule. He gave us the cleaning and care instructions again as Lisa dressed. “Anyone else?” the guy asked, eyeing Mary. He was dying to get his hands on her, but that is not the reason I did it. I planned it all along. “Mary,” I said. She looked startled, then grinned, and began undressing. As always, Mary undressing was a strip tease. Today, she seemed more invigorated than usual, giving us a delicious performance as she slowly removed her clothes. I was hard as a rock. Andy and Lisa were tying hard not to quiver. And, the attendant moaned once. Slowly, while giving us a sensual smile, Mary lay back and gracefully put her arms over her head. I leaned over and kissed her, then whispered in her ear. “Where do you want them?” “Wherever it pleases you,” she said, sex dripping from her voice. “How about exercising your free will and deciding for yourself.” “I did exercise my free will, Davy. I want to do what pleases you.” I kissed her again before turning to the attendant and giving him instructions. “You don’t need to hold me down,” Mary said. We watched as he put gold rings through each nipple and her clit hood. I was afraid he was going to drool on her, but his hands were steady and he did a good job. We grabbed a quick dinner at a medium priced restaurant and were back on the road. Mary was driving with Lisa riding shotgun beside her. Andy was in the back seat with me. She was in a blue mood again. “See,” she whispered. “You did not get me pierced.” “I have other plans for you. Special plans.” She pulled away when I reached for her. “Do you know how it hurts me when you do not trust me to do my best for you?” I asked. “Oh, Davy,” she whispered as she kissed me. We started to cuddle again. This time it was dark and Mary did not say a word when we crawled into the back of the Suburban. I mean, it had been four hours since we fucked and we were both horny. ___________ Additional stories by E. Z. Riter can be found at www.storiesonline.net, and ftp://ftp.asstr.org./pub/Authors/E.Z.Riter which contains all the author’s stories.