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A Conspiracy of Bitches by LongDarkRoad Chapter Eight Everything Must Be Paid For

A Conspiracy of Bitches

By Long Dark Road

Chapter 8  Everything Must Be Paid For

Samantha concluded her call, things were moving as she hoped, although it was late and people were harder to reach. She would need to speak with her bank manager early tomorrow; she would be needing some cash.


Hillman and Martinique sat on the patio; Martinique wearing a light shawl as the evening was cool. As usual she was sipping a quality Merlot while Hillman enjoyed his dark roast coffee.

“Pet did very well. Multiple orgasms after punishment; responded with desire and dedication. She is really all we could hope for.” Martinique murmured and sipped.

“So, you will be taking her out soon?” Hillman replied quietly.

“Yes, possibly later today. Down to the beach (below them there was a small area of sand that was private because the only access were stairs right beside Hillman’s villa. Some locals knew of this, but there were never more than a handful of bathers at any one time). Then I will be bringing her to you for her, first session.”

Hillman smiled. He had been waiting patiently. All the news of Ashley’s sexual escapades had affected him.


Ashley and Gwyneth rode in the town car once again without Samantha. As directed, Gwyneth was masturbating as they travelled. She was thinking that now was as good a time as any to raise her subject; of another slave girl.

“Mistress, I have some information for you.” Gwyneth

spoke as respectfully as she could, not breaking her rhythm, fingering herself.

Ashley looked at her with her usual bored expression, then looked out the window. “Ok, what is it, Gwenny-pussy-slave?”

Gwyneth then outlined her thoughts about Gia Santos, including how to trap her. Ashley pondered for a moment, watched ‘Gwenny’ fingering herself, then commented, looking again out the window.

“Finger your ass, too.”

Gwyneth complied, turning on her side as Ashley had directed her before, with two fingers aggressively plunging into each of her holes, and closing her eyes. She was actually arousing herself, and just before she had an orgasm (always embarrassing in front of ‘Mistress Bitch’) Ashley purred, “Maybe little Gwenny-cunt has an idea. We’ll check out this…girl, today.”

She then watched the orgasm with bored amusement. She chuckled softly before directing, “Now, Gwenny-slave- bitch-whore, lick off those fingers; we don’t want all that nice juice to go to waste, now do we?”


After the three hour flight from Boston and the hour drive from the airport, Natalie Roth was sitting in the elegant home of a woman she hoped could help her. She knew there would be a price, that was life. But if her plan worked, she might be able to slip off the noose of her tormentors, and maybe even put it around them.

After being shown to the living room by a slim, young, woman (Jamaican?) Natalie now waited. In a few moments she heard footsteps approaching, and stood as her host entered. The woman was attractive, forty-ish, hair brown/blonde, done in a medium-length cut, bangs sweeping away from her face. She was dressed in an expensive sweater/skirt outfit and smiled a thin smile as she recognized her guest.

The woman’s name was Arlana Jarvais, well-known in the bondage/discipline circles of the elite. She and Natalie had met before, but Natalie had of course been on her knees.

A slight movement of Jarvais’s hand, and Natalie went to her knees now. Jarvais came to her and stroked her head, then reached down, roughly squeezing a breast. “Still pierced, sweet Natalie?” Jarvais said, in greeting.

“Yes, Mistress Arlana.” Natalie responded, looking down.

“Let me see everything, before we begin any discussion.” Jarvais said, seating herself in a nearby armchair. A couple of minutes later, Natalie was standing naked, hands behind her head, as Jarvais inspected her. Her maid/assistant Treena came in with wine; one glass. She cast Natalie a look as she left.


Samantha met up with Ashley at lunch; Gwyneth would join them as well. “Where the fuck were you again, Bitch Ho’?” Ashley greeted her pleasantly.

“Well, just excellent to see you too, Skank.” They both smiled, before Samantha’s face clouded over. She hadn’t planned to say anything to anybody, but suddenly the whole thing with Jack came pouring out in a rush. Ashley looked on and listened, more in amazement than sympathy.

In fact, when Samantha had finished her narrative, Ashley was visualizing Samantha forced on her knees to suck two cocks. It aroused her. She had long fantasized about using her ‘friend’ for that same thing, so she knew where Jack was coming from.

But Ashley wasn’t stupid; arrogant yes, but she was cunning and a schemer. And she was interested in what Samantha would do next.

“Fuck Sam, that’s nasty. So I hope you’re planning revenge.”

“You bet,” Samantha replied, but at that moment Gwyneth came walking toward them.


The day was pleasant and Mistress M sat with her pet. She lightly brushed the woman’s face. “My precious, go gather a couple of beach towels and my sandals, yours too, and sunglasses and meet me at the gate. We’re going down to the beach.”

The pet had noticed the area below them and had wondered about it. She also wondered if her mistress would have her wear anything, as all she had on now was her collar.

When Pet returned with the things, she noticed her mistress had a cover-up for her. Her Mistress had one on, but she also had on a two-piece swim suit as well. Once everything was gathered, the two women headed down the stairs to the sandy area. There were two girls already there, the only other bathers, lying on a blanket, both wearing fairly brief suits.

Mistress M made a point of laying their towels quite close to the girls. She then turned to her pet. “Remove your cover-up and get on your knees.” Pet hesitated for a brief moment, all of this was still new to her, but disrobed and knelt. “Turn your head and look at those girls and smile.” Pet did this and both girls’ eyes grew large and they giggled, covering their mouths.

Mistress M smiled and motioned for the girls to come; they looked at each other with huge grins on their faces, then stood and came slowly, the four or five steps between them.

“Bonjour, ce qui se passe?” The taller of the two girls asked; she had long brown hair and bangs, with small breasts and a slim body.

“Bonne journée, vous aimez mon ami?” Mistress M replied, asking the girls if they liked her ‘friend’. The shorter of the girls replied in English.

“Hello, I’m Casna. I speak English, if you want. We do like…your friend, but this is…strange.”

Mistress explained that the naked woman was her pet or …slave…and they were welcome to use her. The two girls looked at each other and laughed. Mistress M said to the taller girl that her pet/slave would like to kiss the girl’s pussy for a while.

“Take her. Prendre son. Please.” With a laugh, the taller girl lifted Pet by an arm and took her back to her blanket. In a moment, Pet’s wonderful round ass was in the air as she knelt and licked the girl’s pussy, the girl’s hands buried in her blonde hair.

Casna smiled at Mistress. “I’m Martinique.” They shook hands.

Casna smiled again and commented. “You are beautiful. Both of you. I thought you were American, maybe movie stars, when you were coming down the stairs.” Martinique laughed. Casna looked over at her friend who was moaning and gently humping her hips. “I would like to do that to you.” She said, shyly looking at Martinique and smiling.

Martinique took in this girl. “How old are you?”

“I’m twenty-two, although no one believes me. It’s ‘cause I’m short. I’m older than Giselle (she nodded toward her friend) but she is taller so everyone thinks she’s older. Oh, well.”

Casna was petite, possibly five-two, but solidly built with nice breasts and lovely round hips. Her hair was dark brown and cut very short, with bangs. Martinique looked at her for a moment, then undid her bottom piece and lay back, her legs spread.

Casna’s face was buried in Martinique’s waiting sex in

an instant, sucking and licking noisily, rubbing her face against the labia, spreading the lips aggressively and thrusting her tongue into each hole in turn.

Martinique rolled her hips and smiled; this was an unexpected treat. The sun was warm but not overly hot. Martinique and Giselle lay back and enjoyed the enthusiastic tongues serving them; sea birds dipped and soared, the lapping of the water on the shore was in synch with the devoted efforts of Pet/Slave and Casna.

Over the next half an hour, the cries of pleasure mingled with the calls of the seabirds, in wonderful unity. And then two couples lay quietly entwined, the sun warming them.

Pet/Slave did not think on it, but her former life was quickly melting away; almost gone.


Ashley and Samantha discussed Slave-Gwenny’s plan and thought it might be interesting; although if she thought it would do anything for her, she was mistaken, the girls agreed. They still had plans for her, but this could be a nice diversion.

A phone call from Ashley and the bus driver noted that Gia Santos would not need a ride. The bus left at 3:15, and as Gwyneth noted, at 3:07 Gia popped into the girls’ main floor washroom. When she came out of a stall, blocking her way were three imposing girls. She knew who they were; pretty much everyone at Windsor Academy for Girls feared them, and looking up at them now, Gia’s heart began pounding.

It was not hard fitting the four girls into the town car; Gia was a slim girl and maybe five-one. Once in the car they blind-folded her and told her not to make any sounds.

Samantha then looked meaningfully at Gwyneth, lifting up her skirt. She then had Gwyneth go down on her for the entire ride home; just to make a point.

The four girls trooped into the Ashley home and then down to the lower level to a sort of family room rarely used; but there was a couch and a large wall-mounted T.V. in there, as well as a pool table and a rarely-used ping pong table. “Ping pong?” Ashley had asked her mother in amazement.

Samantha and Ashley sat on a couch and Gwyneth was sent off to get them two beers. Gia was then told to take off all her clothes. When she began to whimper, Samantha gripped her by the hair and warned her of a dark room with rats where they would keep her if she didn’t ‘shut the fuck up’. There was no such room, but Gia controlled herself and stripped completely.

Gwyneth returned with the beers and all three girls looked at the body of Gia Santos. Samantha asked, doubt in her voice, “You are eighteen?”

“N-not yet, in two months, um, Miss. I know I look young. I um, only started my period last year. (Gia looked so young in fact that Windsor Academy had had a Federal agent come in to confirm the girl’s passport was authentic, including her birthdate; she was indeed seventeen and, now, ten months.)

“Look-it these little tits,” Ashley said, pulling on a tiny nipple. “Put your hands behind your back, slut. Now, feed me this baby titty.” Gia did as told and Ashley sucked the entire breast into her mouth, then bit it, enough to show marks. Samantha did the same to the other breast.

“Have you ever seen a boy’s cock?” Ashley asked.

Gia shook her head. “Only on my friend’s computer.”

“Ooooh,” Samantha mocked, “a porn-baby, looking at nasty stuff on her friend’s computer.” She laughed.

Gia looked uncomfortable and embarrassed.

“Come and lay here,” Ashley directed Gia, who hesitantly climbed up and lay, face up across both Ashley and Samantha’s knees, allowing both girls  access to her vagina. Ashley stoked the pubic hair, making Gia jump, and noted, “Well, at least this pussy looks like it belongs to a woman and not a kid. Wow, pretty bushy, little person. Ever heard of a razor?” Samantha snorted, and reached over, putting a finger into Gia’s mouth.

When it was moistened she spoke to Ashley, “Spread her puss, Ash; let’s see what happens here.”

Ashley pulled back the thin, tight lips (there was no significant inner labia yet) and held it so Samantha could look right into the hole. “Hey, Gwenny-Puss, come and hold up our mini-slave’s legs.”

Gwyneth grabbed the legs and pulled them back and out so Gia’s vagina was open. Samantha inserted one finger and it went in ok, but inserting a second was difficult and Gia began squirming. “Hey, stop that or we’ll turn you over and spank you.”

Ashley made a suggestion. “Let’s put the little pussy-slaves to work. We can each have one.” They made Gwyneth strip and then had her and Gia kneel in front of them, Gwyneth with Samantha. When Gwyneth began to lick and suck the fleshy folds of Samantha’s cunt, Ashley told Gia to watch closely; Gia’s eyes were literally ‘big as saucers’. Then she hesitatingly bent forward and cautiously began to lick Ashley’s tight, pink and shaved crotch.

Forty minutes later they were driving Gia across town to her home. They had taken some very graphic pictures of her which they threatened would be on Facebook, Snapchat, Instagram, whatever; if she whispered anything about her time with them. They warned her that cooperating with them would be of benefit to her, but getting them mad was a very, very bad idea.

Gia dutifully called them ‘Mistresses’ and swore to tell no one and see them tomorrow, and to let the bus driver know she was getting a ride from ‘friends’.

Ashley then pulled Gia in for a kiss good-bye, holding it and opening her mouth. She was surprised when Gia opened her mouth in response and kissed back. When she separated, Gia had a smile on her face and said quietly. “I’ve always thought you were beautiful, like a princess.” And kissed her again before running off up the walk to the worn looking building where she and her mother lived.

As they drove off, Samantha murmured, “Just like a…princess.”

“Shut up.” Ashley muttered.

Samantha laughed. It felt good. She still had anger to deal with, but this felt good. Soon, she hoped, she would be feeling even better.


Jack Hogan roared up the little side street by his trailer. He had chosen this spot because it was off the main drag. Behind him was an empty field, and there was a rundown commercial mall beside him. The nearest ‘neighbor’ was almost a block away. He turned his motorcycle into the narrow path that led to his place.

Getting off his bike he checked his phone; nothing again. He had tried to reach Samantha a dozen times but nothing; no yelling, no threats, just silence. He had become concerned after hearing what Tyler had to say and had looked up Jonas Knight and of course Tyler was right, the guy was high level.

As Jack was looking at his keys for the one for the door, he noticed movement to his right. Sensing danger he dropped his bag and faced the rather nasty looking man coming at him. He did not notice the man to his left, who swung a metal bar, hitting Jack hard on the right knee cap. He went down with a shout, then tried to fend off the blow from the first guy. The guy with the bar then slammed it against his ribs and Jack went down. Several blows from boots began raining down on him; his back, his ribs. The air was punched from his lungs and a blow to his head dazed him.

Suddenly he was lifted off the ground; four guys were now on him and carrying him to the empty lot behind his trailer. Jack still had a little fight left, but several punches to his face took care of that. His boots and pants were dragged off him; his wrists were tied together above his head, and his legs were spread and fastened by cords to two stakes the men had just driven into the ground.

Then the men left, walking to the front of the trailer. There was still light left in the sky as the figure of a tall girl walked toward the trussed-up Jack. Looking up he saw the unsmiling face of Samantha Knight.

“Hullo, Jacko-boy. Long time, no see.” She said.


Natalie Roth pulled out of the airport lot and headed east. Things had gone probably as well as she could have expected, and she had a chance to provide Arlana with oral sex. Natalie definitely preferred women over girls. She had enjoyed serving Arlana in the past; she was a nasty woman but clean and classy.

The deal that they had made at least gave her some hope.


Martinique finished her meal; quail, roasted with herb butter. Pet/Slave also seemed to be enjoying hers, although she was eating on her knees, her dish on the tiles of the patio. The afternoon with the two girls and been delightful; Casna imploring Martinique to be able to see her again. Perhaps, Martinique had thought.

Now, as she finished her wine, she thought she would have some coffee, and then go in to see her master.

Pet/Slave’s training would now move to the next stage.


Samantha knelt down and looked at Jack. Taking a pair of scissors from her pocket, she began to cut away Jack’s briefs.

“Sam, please…”

“Shut up. And don’t call me Sam, you asshole son of a bitch.” She looked disdainfully at his groin. “H’mmm, your friend doesn’t seem too interested tonight.” She said, standing and prodding Jack’s balls with her sneakered foot. “Maybe he forgets about me, forgets that he was shoved in my mouth. Hmmmm. Too bad.” And then she slammed her foot down as hard as she could directly on Jack’s junk.

Erupting with a tortured groan, Jack tried to roll, but his cords were too short. Samantha stomped hard again and Jack turned his head, vomiting and spitting.

“How’s your little friend, doin’, Jacko?” Samantha yelled down at the man, then stepped back and delivered a great kick full into the ball sack. Jack gasped aloud and began vomiting again, except there was nothing left but a little liquid, that dribbled down his chin.

He looked up at Samantha with tortured eyes. “Please…” he began, but she stomped down hard again, grinding her foot this time, mashing his sex organs like she was putting out a cigarette.

Jack briefly passed out, to be awakened by Samantha pouring some water on him from a bottle; then she took a drink.

“You awake? Wouldn’t want you to miss this.” She took out her scissors and placed then under his cock.

“No! No please, for the love of God, I’m sorry, please. No, don’t do that. Don’t. Please. Pl…” and then he turned his face as well as he could and wept.

“Everything must be paid for, Jacko.” Samantha said,

looking disdainfully at the man. “So, you want to keep your precious cock?”

Jack nodded his head and burbled something but it was unintelligible.

“Well, here’s the price. You get on your fucking bike and ride away, then this is done. You’re still in town tomorrow, we will hunt you down and I will cut off your cock and throw it in the Charles. Let the fishes have some fun. We clear?”

“Yeah, ya. Sure…” he grunted. Samantha then turned his head so he could look as his trailer was set on fire. She waited until it was totally engulfed and then cut his bonds and walked away. She gave the nasty looking man an envelope with five grand in it. Everyone left.


Martinique walked along on bare feet, pet/slave beside her on all fours. They stopped outside the room at the end of the hallway, the one whose windows faced the sea, and gently rapped, before entering. Martinique took their pet to Alexander Hillman, who sat by the window on a straight back chair.

Hillman was naked, his long lean form tanned and sleek, although at this point, all Pet/Slave could see was his feet up to his knees. She started with this, gently licking whatever was there; feet, calves, knees. Then she was permitted a little higher, and stroked Hillman’s muscular thighs with her tongue.

Eventually Martinique guided Pet/Slave’s face to the brown, round and shaved testicle sack. It had been a while since she had sucked a man’s balls, but it is not a complicated task; some, however, perform it with more passion.

Pet/Slave tried to convey her devotion, her commitment, her subservience through her tongue and mouth. Her efforts produced a result, for soon Martinique was

guiding Pet/Slave’s face and tongue along the shaft of Hillman’s erect cock. She lathered it up and down, coating it with her saliva. She came at last to the purple, circumcised head, and engulfed the helmet-like end in her warm mouth, sucking back and forth on it but not down the shaft.

Suddenly she took the entire cock in her mouth, right to the back of her throat, and then back out to lick and caress the underside of the shaft, just below the head, with the most tender of kisses. When she next took most of the cock in, Martinique began to pump it at the same time.

It was a compelling combination and Hillman exploded in an orgasm in minutes. Pet/Slave took in all the cum, then let it out, sliding it back down the cock shaft, before sucking the now white and foamy coating back into her mouth and swallowing it. Martinique held the slowly dwindling penis so Pet/Slave could suck at the hole, claiming all the seed and leaving no drops what-so-ever.

Martinique then covered Pet/Slave’s mouth with her own, and the two mouths shared whatever they had, with Martinique finally licking Pet/Slave’s face all over, Hillman leaning back in his chair, a contented smile on his tanned face, the now dark sea reflecting moonlight back to the darkened sky.


Jack Hogan was in great pain, but he drove on; he had covered just over eighty miles, and he couldn’t go much farther, so he was on the look-out for lodging. With his eyes blurry from tears, his groin screaming agony, he finally saw a sign ahead; Shady Pines, Cabins & Meals. With a profane exclamation of gratitude, he turned his bike in and made his way slowly to the office cabin.

To his even greater gratitude, the place had a small liquor store in the back, and once in his cabin he poured a welcome glass of scotch; mediocre scotch, but welcome just the same.

He thought of Samantha Knight and raised his full glass; “Some day bitch, you’ll get what you deserve.” And he swallowed the amber liquid down in three gulps.


Samantha and Ashley stood together outside of the room of Ashley’s next subject. They had a couple of minutes and once again Samantha burst forth with a story; this time what she had done to Jack. Ashley again listened with great interest. She would love to step on a guy’s balls, or kick him hard there. She fantasized on it.

“Good for you Sam. That sounds like it felt very good.”

“Fuckin’ grrrr-eat,” she responded.

“You know something?” Ashley had a definite twinkle in her eye, “our next slave should be a guy.”

Samantha looked at her, then smiled. “Anyone in mind, Queen Bitch?”

Ashley smiled that enigmatic smile, raising her eyebrows, “Maybe,” but then the warning bell sounded.

(End of Chapter 08)

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A Conspiracy of Bitches by LongDarkRoad Chapter Seven When I Love You Is Not Enough

A Conspiracy of Bitches

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 07  When I Love You Is Not Enough

Ms. Manatos was headed to the patio; mornings received the sun and it was always pleasant then. She was holding a leash, the other end attached to the pet’s collar, who was following along obediently on all fours. Manatos led the pet to Mistress M who was reclining as usual on her lounge. Today the mistress was wearing a light apricot cover-up.

“Ah, my precious.” Mistress M declared when she saw Denise. With Denise still on her knees, they kissed for almost a minute, then Martinique spoke. “Ready position, precious.” Denise/pet knelt, back straight, hands on thighs, palms out. Martinique played for a moment with the lovely breasts, then began feeding her pet some fresh strawberries.

Lifting her cover-up, Martinique spread some of the liquid from her bowl onto and inside her vagina. She then placed two strawberries inside herself and directed her pet to retrieve them, which ‘Pet’ eagerly did. Both women laughed and kissed deeply again after the fruit was consumed. “Lay near me, my pet.” Martinique directed, laying a towel on the tiles by her lounge. Her pet lay down, and Martinique began to lightly stroke the blonde head.

“So, your time has passed, your ticket has expired and you are here…and mine. You agree to all I told you yesterday?”

Denise’s voice was quiet but audible. “I agree, my mistress.”

“You are…my pet?”

Denise paused. Saying this was difficult but incredibly arousing. “I am your…pet, my mistress.”

“And, what does my pet feel for me?”

Denise felt her emotions rising, she worked to control them. She steadied her breathing, before she spoke. “My Mistress, my…beloved. Only a few days ago I did not even know you, or even know of you. Now, I cannot bear the thought of not being near you. That…that is how I fe…” She almost made it, but now she lowered her head to the tiles as her tears fell. Her mistress gave her time before reaching down and bringing her to lie against her on the lounge.

Denise clung to this woman with a passion she did not know she possessed. They held each other for a long time. Lucie came and looked at them, waited, then left. Zoe came a while later, to alert them that Mr. Hillman would likely appear shortly. Before they separated, Denise whispered into her Mistress’s ear. “I…I would say ‘I Love You’, but, it is not…enough.”


Ashley had everyone up fairly early Saturday as she had ‘Slave-Teacher’ coming over. Samantha was taking ‘Slave-Gwenny’ back to her place to “give her a good fucking” and Natalie, with a sadness in her eyes, was released to head off.

Before they left, Ashely took Gwyneth into her room, had her lower her pants, and sit on her knee. “How is our sweet little ho’ this morning?” she asked in a mock cheerful voice. Gwyneth just looked at her, before finally answering in a flat voice, “I’m just fine, thank you, Mistress Ashley.”

Ashley chuckled at Gwyneth’s taciturn demeanor. “Yeah sure. Ok, lookit; if you want to leave here with no punishment, I’m going to kiss you and you are going to kiss back like you mean it, got it?”

Gwyneth nodded her head and Ashley leaned in and the two of them shared a very sloppy kiss with lots of tongue and saliva. Ashley finished by letting some of her saliva drip into Gwyneth’s open mouth before closing her hand over it and saying, “My little present; something to remember me by. Now off you go. Miss Samantha’s planning on fucking you back at her place. I get to have you tomorrow. Beat it.”

Gwyneth pulled up her pants and left, her and Samantha holding hands and Samantha laughing in a mock ‘girly’ voice, “Gwenny and I are gonna’ go pway.”

Ten minutes later, the doorbell chimed and it was Ms. Woodward, a couple of minutes early. Ashley took her immediately up to her parent’s room and tied her naked to the bed in the usual spread position. Then she blindfolded her and forced two fairly large dildos, into each of her openings; then left her, closing the door.

As she was getting some coffee, the doorbell chimed again and she suddenly remembered she had asked her investigation firm to send someone over to check for ‘bugs’.

Opening the door she was happy to see a young woman, dressed casually, who could have been a friend of hers; to anyone watching. Although the woman was twenty-five, she had dressed as instructed and Ashley invited her in, taking note of her body, and her long, light-brown hair; and, her tight jeans.

“Hi, Tracey Hudson,” the girl said, holding out her hand. She carried what looked like a backpack, but it was uniquely designed and carried a device in it that would react to anything that was designed to transmit a signal.

The two women began to casually stroll through the lower floor, then went upstairs. Tracey was not looking at her device but wearing an ear-piece that beeped to alert her. If she saw something like a T.V., cell phone or computer, then that was fine. If nothing obvious was there, she made a note and checked casually.

They strolled through the upper floor and when they got to Ashley’s parent’s room, Ashley hesitated, then thought; what the Hell.

“Ok, Miss, um Hudson; before you go in here I will warn you there is someone in there. It is fine. Just check as you are and we will be in and out quickly. They entered and Hudson stared at the naked body. They began to circle the room, and Ashley noted Hudson casting furtive glances at the bound woman. When they were about to leave, Ashley took Hudson’s hand and ran it gently over Woodward’s pubes.

Hudson’s eyes grew large, but she did not put up much of a fight, so Ashley poked one of the woman’s index fingers into the cleft of Woodward’s sex and moved it up and down, then had her pull one dildo in and out a few times, while all the while lightly squeezing one of Hudson’s ass cheeks; Ashley had noted with interest the woman’s well-formed buttocks displayed nicely in those tight jeans.

Laughing, as she noted both Woodward’s arousal and Hudson’s interest (and discomfort), she led the woman out of the room, down the stairs and out in the back to the grassy area behind the pool.

Hudson looked around and exclaimed, “What a gorgeous yard.”

“Yeah, it’s nice,” Ashley commented, then continued. “So, whatcha’ got?”

Hudson was looking at her device and remembering her mental notes. “Well, it’s not what I’ve got, Miss Hillman, but what you’ve got; bugs, two of them.”

So it was that Ashley discovered the camera in the front area, and the one in her bedroom. She laughed out loud, wondering who all might have seen what; her father had to be involved somehow. Hudson asked if she wanted the bugs removed, but Ashley was good with keeping them ‘as is’; now that she knew they were there.

“Ok, then, anything else?” Hudson asked.

“Tell me a little about you?” Ashley asked abruptly and

found out the young woman was a single mother of a three-year-old and worked investigations on weekends as well as cashier at a bank.

“That’s good, so you would not want to lose this job and you could use some extra cash?” Ashley asked pointedly.

“R-Right.” Hudson responded.

“Good, so unbutton your jeans and lie on your stomach.”

Hudson stared at Ashley with a blank look. “Wh-what?”

“C’mon, c’mon. You’re not deaf. You should tell from the woman tied upstairs that I like naked women; I especially like asses; and I want to see yours. Having me on your side will be a good thing for you; Tracey, so just relax and lie down and we both benefit.”

“You’re, um, you’re serious?”


“And if I don’t want to do this…?”

“You can leave. But things for you will change. That won’t be good or helpful for you, so why? Are you shy? Having another woman see your ass is going to do, what? Mess you up? You didn’t seem to mind fondling that woman upstairs.”

Tracey giggled and mulled things for a moment, then said, “Oh, what the…fuck; you are serious that this will help me, with you I mean?”

“I know it will help you with me.”

Tracey smiled a little smile, unbuttoned her jeans and pulled down the zipper, then lay on the grass. Ashley pulled the snug jeans down and the thongs with them. She admired the lovely ass for a moment before fondling it, and squeezing it, then slapping it. She spread it, and Tracey inadvertently gave a little moan. Ashley noted this and followed up by running her hand right up

to Tracy’s cunt and gently squeezing it.

Tracey moved her hips, and Ashley then returned to the ass, spreading it and licking Tracy’s asshole, while finger-fucking her. It only took four or five minutes before Ashley was smiling; Tracy’s hips were bucking on the grass and her moans were loud and steady. After a moment, she lay still and Ashley kissed her neck, then turned her over and kissed her mouth.

Pulling up the woman’s panties and then the jeans, she remarked that Tracey should watch for a little bonus coming her way; something to help with her child’s expenses.

“Kids cost dough.” Ashley announced philosophically, and Tracey smiled. They walked around the side of the house and Tracey looked up at Ashley who spoke. “Come back next Saturday, I want to re-check the house.”

“Ok.” Tracey agreed, then looked down. “Will you want to be…checking me again?” She asked, still focused on the ground.

“Absolutely.” Ashley said, lifting the woman’s face and kissing her. “See you.”

“Check.” Tracey smiled, and headed for her car, looking back once and waving.

Ashley headed in; Woodward should be good and ready by now.


Martinique and Alexander Hillman sat on the patio as the sun went down; the sea before them as always was enchanting. Denise/Pet was at that moment in one of the rooms on the lower level. She was simply tied to a ceiling hook and waiting; she had received no punishment and would not, tonight. It was just part of the process.

“I love this time of day,” Martinique murmured, sipping her wine.

“This is a very special place, I fell in love with it years ago.” Hillman sipped his coffee. Silence enclosed them, broken only by the occasional call of a bird. “Things are proceeding with…our pet?”

“Yes, everything proceeds. I am into her training; I am bringing Zahir out tomorrow; we will introduce our lovely to some pain.” More wine. “Back in New York, we are onto dealing with her property and possessions; bank account, that sort of thing. Zoe is leading that. We are flying one of the legal staff from London to put together a power of attorney for ‘Pet’, naming me; that will make the process move…efficiently.”

“Timeline; what’s your guess?”

“Selling the condo will take the most time, most likely. We will price it to move, quickly; but we don’t want anyone questioning things, so we won’t be just ‘giving it away’. But no, my master, in three weeks or so Denise Allen will be completely gone. Pet will be yours for whatever time and purpose you desire.”

Hillman sipped his coffee. The last of the light was leaving the sky; some stars had begun to appear and the moon was out. “Ours, my dear.”



Natalie Roth had checked with her ‘Mistresses’ and they had no plans for her for a few days; not surprising, they had a lot ‘on the go’. So Roth now planned to take this opportunity and make a little trip to Chicago and a meeting with someone from her past. This woman was influential and wealthy. Roth’s greatest fear was that ‘the bitches’ would somehow find out; there would be Hell to pay. She couldn’t even imagine how crazy they would go.

But the event on Friday had changed things for Natalie. Her daughter was destroyed, and Roth was very worried that Gwyneth would sink into some sort of depressed state; she was certain neither of the bitches really understood the consequences of some of their actions.

Natalie needed to do something, she needed to start somewhere and this secret trip to Chicago was step one.


Monday morning and Gwyneth surveyed the hall scene once again. She was beginning to feel a sense of desperation. She believed that her former friends were conspiring to drive her over the edge, and the degradation and abuse would only increase now that they had ‘made her a woman’ as Samantha kept saying. While Gwyneth didn’t know if this idea would work, she needed to do something. At least now she had a name: Gia Santos.

This girl checked all the boxes: a barbarian, isolated (Gwyneth had never seen her even walking with someone); vulnerable, single parent who worked in a warehouse, so no problem there. Gia, although almost eighteen, was so petite people continued to ask her why she was in the senior wing.

And Gwyneth had noted that Gia was shy; case in point, she always waited until just before the bus arrival to use the washroom; clearly she felt uncomfortable with other girls in ‘private’ situations. Step one was complete; identify a target. Now time to make her proposal.


Mandy was hovering near Ashley, a phone in her hand.

“What is it?” Ashley asked, sensing the woman’s presence, but not opening her eyes.

“A phone call, Mistress Ashley.” Mandy announced in what she felt was a ‘respectful’ voice, which was hard considering how she really felt.

Ashley opened her eyes just to slits and regarded Mandy suspiciously, as if she might be up to something.

“It is your mother,” Mandy added.

“Oh great,” Ashley groaned, putting out her hand but not bothering to sit up. Mandy brought the phone to her.

“Mommie Dearest!” Ashley spoke with phony cheerfulness.

There was a pause, “I wish you wouldn’t use that expression, Ashley. You know I don’t like it.”

“Ah but Mommsy, look at us, all social reference and everything, just a couple-a gal-pals.” Ashley had a hard time not bursting out with laughter, she considered herself hilarious. Mrs. Hillman simply waited out the ‘noise’.

“Whatever dear, no worries as you young folks say, but I really want to talk with you about the fact that you only have a few weeks of school left and then the big day.”

“What big day would that be, Mother?” Ashley spoke in a monotone voice.

There was a stunned silence before Mrs. Hillman realized she was being played. “Please Ashley, try and be serious if only for two minutes. Your graduation day of course.”

“Oh, Right! Gosh! Just slipped my mind! Wait, let me like, what, replay my response with the right attitude, here we go….” There was silence and then Ashley made a farting noise.



Jack was lying on the fold out couch that served as his bed, as Samantha vigorously sucked him off, her jeans undone and Jack’s rough hand shoved in. Samantha liked having sex in Jack’s place, because it was so ‘nasty’. However, they were now interrupted by someone at the door of his house trailer (you wouldn’t believe his place, Ash, it’s like right out of a ghetto or something, dirty and creepy and totally badass, like where I take a shower soon as I get home. Totally gross and great for nasty sex.) Of course Ashley just stared at her.

Jack partially zipped up and yelled, “It’s unlocked, Asshole.”

His friend Tyler came in. Slim and tall to Jack’s average but muscular build, Tyler was a couple of years younger than Jack and worked with him. “Zo, what’s on?”

“Bad timing, dude. My woman was just getting me set and then, a fuckin’ knock on the door. Ever heard of call ahead.”

“Sorry, man, just hangin’ nearby and thought I’d say ‘Hello’; I can blow, not a problem.”

“Nah, just sit, there’s a beer or two in the fridge.” As Tyler grabbed a beer, Jack flopped his semi-erect cock back out and gripped Samantha behind her neck.

“What’r you doin’?” she asked, startled.

“Back to business, bitch.”

“Not with your fuckin’ friend here.”

“Whaddya you care, it’s my dick that’s hangin’ out. Do it.” And he forced Samantha down on his cock with a powerful hand. She began to bob up and down, getting into a rhythm. Jack meanwhile had directed Tyler to sit beside Samantha and take out his cock, which was getting stiff watching Samantha’s hot action.

When Tyler’s cock was out and ready, Jack took Samantha’s free hand and placed it on his friend’s member. She pulled it away and Jack slapped her hand and placed it back on the erection. With an effort, because of the pressure of Jack’s hand, she pulled up and sat glaring.

“What the fuck…?”

“Look whore, you love to be fucked, so what’s the deal with two for one?”

“Yeah, but who I fuck’s my choice, asshole.”

Jack lost it, swinging his hand and connecting with the side of Samantha’s face, knocking her from the couch. Grabbing her hair, he turned her to face Tyler who forced his cock into Samantha’s mouth, jerking furiously. He was aroused and didn’t take long to cum, with Samantha gagging and coughing from his ejaculate filling her mouth.

Not giving her any time to recover, and still with a strong hold on her hair, Jack now did what he had been longing to do for weeks, thrust his cock into that lovely mouth and pumped, with his cum soon adding to what she already had as he came in moments. He roughly covered Samantha’s mouth with his hand, forcing her to swallow all in her mouth, then he collapsed back on his couch, laughing.

Samantha, fire in her eyes, did up her pants and stormed out, but not before turning and shouting, “You two fucking dicks will be very fucking sorry.”

“She sounds pissed,” Tyler said, doing up his pants.

“Forget her, she’s a fucking high school student. She brings her daddy back here I’ll kick his arse.”

Tyler looked at Jack for a minute. “You do know who she is, right?”

“Yeah, she’s fucking Samantha Knight, I know. So what?”

“So, her dad owns like twenty companies and is friends with the mayor and shit, that’s what.”

Jack’s face showed that he was, slowly, beginning to understand that he may have just fucked up, big time.


Zahir, no one knew if it was a first name or last, it

was always simply ‘Zahir’, walked around the woman, hanging from the ceiling hook. She checked her watch, an old world pocket watch she kept in her vest pocket, and noted she still had a few minutes for the nipple clamps.

Zahir was not physically imposing, five-three or four; she had heels on, so one could not be sure. She was over fifty, hair already salt and pepper-ish. Fairly slim, with the beginning of a ‘tummy’; but she was proof that to produce pain one did not need to be large.

Zahir was a long-time Dominatrix, specializing exclusively in punishment and humiliation. She did not do sex of any kind and never had, not with males and not with females. She was, however, an equal opportunity flogger.

Denise Allen, or the woman who was once called Denise Allen, was hanging, knees bent slightly, both wrists bound by a leather strap, from the hook. It had been almost an hour since the session began. Martinique watched from the side, her face a mixture of concern and arousal.

Because of the ball gag, saliva had oozed from the victim’s mouth and ran down her chin. Her hair had been tied back and perspiration ran from her scalp down the sides of her face. She had not been allowed to urinate before the session began and at one point in the caning had lost control, pissing herself, the urine pooling on the floor as well as having run down her long legs.

Zahir took off the nipple clips and rubbed life back into the lovely, tender buds, the bound woman squirming in response. The session was nearing its end; Zahir glanced at Martinique, and then placed a vibrating egg into the slave’s wet cunt, turning it past medium. She then held another vibrator to the front and directly against the woman’s clitoris. Zahir then began a steady striking of the lovely rounded buttocks with a light cane.

The victim lifted her head, her blindfold preventing her from seeing who was doing this, she twisted on her bonds, muffled sounds coming from her gagged mouth.

Zahir kept up the strokes, machine-like, determined, persistent. Then it came, an orgasm that shook the woman’s body like a seizure, fifteen, twenty, thirty seconds; muffled moans, cries, groans, and then silence. The body hung limp again, the straps beginning to bite into the flesh of her wrists. Zahir nodded to Martinique and the two women undid and lowered the naked form to the floor, removing the egg and the blindfold.

They then removed the gag, and gently wiped down the body with soft cloths. They allowed the woman a little water, and then a slice of orange, and then a little more water. Leaving the prone form for a moment, Martinique called up and soon Lucie and Zoe appeared, and the four women hoisted the tall woman up and lifted her over to a table, lying her face down.

Since more of the abuse had been to the back, Martinique and Zahir began there, gently running cool towels over the red skin and welts. Next they took gobs of aloe lotion and spread it gently across everything, working it in. The woman’s eyes fluttered open, and Martinique bent to kiss the face, whispering, “Be still, my precious, let us do our thing.”

The woman smiled and closed her eyes; the lotion and the hands were wonderful; the after-effects of the orgasm were still in play. Once the back had had a chance to dry, the two gently turned the body over and looked after the front; in the end the four hands probing, fondling, tweaking, pulling and rubbing, brought forth another, less violent, climax that left the woman with an angelic and euphoric smile on her face.

They sat her up and had her drink some tea laced with a sedative, and in moments, the woman was breathing deeply and evenly, sleeping, the smile still on her



Alexander Hillman was listening as Barb Quinn brought him up to speed on her investigations. She explained that the tall girlfriend was a student who had been a tutor of sorts and now was definitely in a sexual relationship with Ashley. Hillman had known for several months that Ashley was no longer a virgin; but the same-sex development was new. He had sometimes wondered about Ashley and Samantha, who were together so much and had no other real friends; besides Gwyneth and now that was another development, it seemed.

The older woman was a teacher at Ashley’s school and it was clear Ashley was blackmailing her. Hillman listened to this news with interest. He had used blackmail numerous times; his father had been a huge proponent of it as a leverage activity. There was a joke in Boston at one time that if George Hillman hadn’t tried to blackmail you, you were a nobody.

Hillman and Quinn closed off with the plan to talk again in a few days. He had been informed that his wife had called earlier, so he now contacted her, and got the earful about Ashley and the graduation, etc. etc.

Hillman really didn’t care what Ashley did for her graduation; she wasn’t going to college; she didn’t care spit for Windsor Academy or pretty much anyone there; who cares if she went to the party or not?

Christina was not of the same opinion, they agreed to disagree and also to talk again in a few days.

And with all that dealt with, Hillman called for Martinique; he wanted an update on the session with his favorite whip lady, Fahir and their new pet.

(End of Chapter 07)

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A Conspiracy of Bitches By LongDarkRoad Chapter Six Facts And Forces

A Conspiracy of Bitches

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 06  Facts and Forces

Denise had fallen to her knees, as if someone had punched her. She felt faint and held onto the chest of drawers for support. She fought to get air into her lungs as she had begun to hyperventilate; she could not make sense of this. She was to leave? Now? Why?

Suddenly there was a hand gently stroking her arm; turning to find it was Martinique she threw her arms around her and clung on, like a drowning person. Martinique stroked her gently and brought her around, calming her.

“What has upset you so, my sweet?” Martinique asked softly.

Denise looked into her eyes, to see if she was being mocked. Her face streaked with tears, she opened her hands, stating, “The ticket. Why am I being sent… back?”

Martinique smiled and brushed away a final tear or two and stroked Denise’s blonde head. “No one is sending you back….”

“But the ticket….”

“The ticket…cannot make you go. Only you can choose to go, and the ticket will do that if you wish.”

“I don’t understand…” Denise began, but Martinique was continuing.

“Life is about choices; sometimes, others control those choices. Most of us work to be able to make our own choices. You had a choice to end your engagement?”

How did she know this? Flitted through Denise’s mind before she answered, “Yes….”

“You had a choice to come here?”

“Well, yes, but;“

“Did someone force you?”

“No, but”

“Then you chose?”

“Yes.” Denise sighed. She knew what she wanted to say, that she didn’t really have a choice; but she did. She was free to start a new life with a new job; she was free to stay engaged and marry Jason. Facts and forces were aligned against her, that made her change her mind. But it was still her mind; and her choice.

“When here, you chose to make love to me?”

“Y-yes, I did.” Denise smiled; that was an easy choice.

“Yet you had never made love with a woman before?”

“Correct. So….”

“My point, my love, is that you had choices and you will have more choices. I want you to stay with me; I feel so much for you, but I am not the jail person….”


“Jail keeper; I will not lock you up. Neither will Mr. Hillman. We want you with us, and I want you for me, but I want you to decide.”

Martinique stood, Denise was about to say something when she was hushed by Martinique’s hand. “Kneel. Hands on your thighs, palms out. Legs open more. Eyes down. Good. This is your ready position. Now, you will remain like that until I return. Or not. If you wish to get dressed and leave, you may. Choices, my sweet.” And then she was gone. Denise waited in the position, wanting to show Martinique….

Something. Obedience? Desire? Cooperation? She waited.

Five minutes later Martinique returned, “Ah, very good. You are a submissive person, I know now for sure; you simply need a reason. No, do not look at me yet, I have not asked. I will leave something here, on the; what is this to you?”

“Chest of drawers.”

“I will call it a dresser, but you will know. It will be beside the ticket, because that is the choice. Take one or the other, and go on. I hope for a…certain choice, but it is up to you.” She bent down and kissed Denise’s mouth, warmly, deeply. She then left.

Denise stayed in position, afraid again of what was sitting on top of this piece of furniture. What was it?? She stood tentatively and looked. Beside the ticket was a dog collar; on it the words ‘My Pet’. Denise felt a surge of desire spread through her once again. She wanted Martinique to whisper those words to her. Or Mr. Hillman. Where did he fit into this?


Alexander Hillman watched the video of his daughter, her friend and a woman named Dee Dee (really? he thought), engaged in raunchy no holds-barred sex. Close-ups and camera changes would have made it purchase worthy, but even as it was it was compelling. What was Ashley into? This woman, Dee Dee, clearly was reluctant (to some extent, there were certainly moments when she was enjoying herself). It seemed to be a slave relationship, as the woman had to refer to the girls as ‘Mistress’.

Very intriguing. Now Barb would need to find out all about…this woman. His lovely daughter was keeping them busy.


Ashley was seated on Ms. Woodward’s chair. Ms. Woodward was on the floor, on her knees, her face between Ashley’s lovely thighs, working diligently on Ashley’s lovely pussy. “Spread my ass, Slave.”

“Y-yes, um, Mistress.” Woodward used both hands to spread Ashley’s buttocks as wide as possible. She scooped her tongue into the pink-brown opening and ran it around in circles several times before stabbing it directly into the hole. She pushed her face and her tongue as hard as possible, eliciting moans from her ‘mistress’.

“Oh, um, fuck. That is good. Oh, yeah. Ummmm.” Ashley opened her eyes and looked at the clock; unfortunately she needed to get going. She stroked the brown head working on her, then pulled it back to look at Woodward’s face, wet with various fluids. “You’ve done this before, right?”

“Um. Well, you know what…I am.”

“No, I mean this. Ass-licking. You are…good.”

“Thank you, Mistress. I, um. Yes. I like it. I like doing it…for you.” She looked up at Ashley and she might have been the teenager and Ashley the teacher, her face was so innocent.

“I’m going to enjoy you. But I need to go. I want you at my house again this Saturday morning. Ten o’clock.” And she pulled up her thong and pantyhose and strode out.


Denise held the collar in her hand, not really considering. Just holding it. She knew what she would do. She then put it on and got back into her position and waited.

The door opened and someone entered; but it was Ms. Manatos, not Martinique. She stood by Denise, who maintained her position, looking down. Manatos stroked the blond hair, then squeezed a breast, before kneeling and placing her mouth over a nipple, then sucking and softly biting it. Both of Denise’s nipples now grew hard and stood straight out.

Manatos stood and handed Denise the end of a leash. “Attach this to your collar, Pet.” She murmured. Denise did that and Manatos tugged on the leash. “Get on all fours.” Denise complied and felt another surge of intense desire just by being in this submissive pose. As if reading her mind, Manatos spoke. “Repeat, I am ready to obey.”

Denise could not believe what she was feeling, the desire to be on her back and spread her legs; to be exposed; to lick someone’s shoes; to be used. She desired Martinique so strongly at that moment she wanted to call out for her. Instead, she spoke, her voice husky with emotion. “I…am ready to…obey.”

“Follow me, and stay on your knees. Whenever I stop, assume your ready position.” Manatos started out and walked Denise down the carpeted hallway on the villa’s second floor, where all the bedrooms were located. She stopped twice, Denise moved into position immediately. “That is a good Pet.” Manatos praised and Denise felt pride…and desire. She wanted more than anything to put a hand on her clitoris and rub.

They stopped outside a room; Manatos knocked softly and they entered. Manatos walked Denise up to the bare feet of a woman sitting in an armchair. After Denise assumed the position, her face was lifted and she looked into the dark, warm, brown eyes of Martinique, who was smiling brightly at her.

“Ah my love, it is you. I am so pleased. So very pleased.” Martinique touched Denise’s face lightly. Not knowing why, Denise began to sob, tears rolling down her lovely face and falling on the expensive Persian carpets of Martinique Bellaire’s bedroom.


In the Knight’s home, in the lower level, in one of the spare rooms, Samantha had erected a folding dog enclosure. It had a lockable gate, but being only four feet high that was pointless, if one had a human in it. So Gwyneth Roth was lying with her hands tied behind her and her legs tied loosely with cord, allowing her to open them a little. She was naked and had a unique butt plug inserted in her.

Samantha had kept a plug in Gwyneth’s ass for much of the week, but this ‘plug’ had fir attached to it so it resembled a dog’s tail. “My wittle-doggy-woggy sleeping in its wittle-bed,” she had sung to Gwyneth when she put her in the enclosure a while ago.

With Ashley involved with Pauline this week, and then the arrival of Dee Dee, Gwyneth had been kept at Samantha’s when not in school, so she had not been home for several days. She found it was getting harder and harder to pretend affection for Samantha, who Gwyneth was coming to believe had some sort of mental problem. But then, she may have been biased.


Denise was engaged, licking Martinique’s fleshy labia folds, occasionally pulling on the gold ring; which produced a reaction. Travelling upwards, her tongue found the hooded clitoris and gently probed there. Martinique’s eyes were closed, her mouth was open, and moans and sighs were coming from her.

Behind Denise, a naked Zoe Manatos was kneeling, a thumb in Denise’s ass and a finger in her cunt, pulling and stretching these two openings together. Denise’s hands were tied behind her back, the first time in her life she had ever been bound, and the ladies had not allowed her to orgasm yet, but at that moment Martinique called out and thrust her hips, then lay back laughing. She stroked Denise’s head, “Oh my sweet,” she purred and closed her eyes.


It was Friday and the mistresses had plans for their Slave-Girl (as opposed to Mandy, Pauline, Mommy-Slave or Slave-Teacher; it was getting harder to keep track). Ever since the two of them had discovered that Gwyneth was a virgin, they had made plans.

Although it was enjoyable to fuck Gwyneth’s ass, and certainly Samantha loved that, and Ashley was big into asses; still, they wanted Gwyneth’s pussy. Not fucking her there meant something was missing; and, if they wanted to, for instance, rent her out, they would need her ‘fully operational’.

So, tonight they would have a little party, just especially for their Slave-Girl.


After her orgasm, Martinique placed Denise on her hands and knees. She and Zoe then discussed her, with her arranged there, and they did this intentionally.

“So, what next for our pet?” Martinique asked.

“She is good at serving, she seems comfortable on her knees; she clearly enjoys pleasuring you.“ Zoe reached over and squeezed and rubbed ‘Pet’s’ ass, then slapped it. “We will need to see how she responds to punishment.“ she added. Denise felt a stab of apprehension, but also a jolt of excitement. It was arousing her, having Martinique and Ms. Manatos discussing her like this.

“Have her face me,” Martinique instructed, and Zoe turned Denise so her face was touching Martinique’s knee.

“Now, some rules for you, my Pet.” Martinique began, and Zoe moved behind Denise, who was still on all-fours, and began playing with her pussy, using one thumb, pressing it up and down her puffy lips.

“You still have the airline ticket; it will be brought down to this room with your things as you will now live with me. If you choose not to use the ticket within the next twenty-four hours, it will be removed, as you will have indicated your desire to remain.

If you do remain, your name with us will be ‘Pet’. You will address me as Mistress M, Ms. Manatos as Mistress Zed and Mr. Hillman as ‘Sir’ or Mr. Hillman, depending. You will pleasure us whenever we ask, and we will use whatever part of your body we wish.

You will be naked except for your collar, at all times, unless we decide to dress you. We will dress you however we choose; you will be dressing to please me and Mr. Hillman, not yourself.

You will receive punishment for slowness and failure to comply; or simply because we wish it. At times, it may be to entertain our friends or clients. You will accept this punishment, knowing that we will never harm or injure you.

You will eat only when and what we allow you, and wherever we feel is appropriate, which may be on the floor. That is up to us.

When it comes to basics, when you need to relieve yourself, you will ask us for direction as to how. There will be times when we may wish you to relieve yourself publically, for our amusement or your degradation. Do you have any questions?”

Martinique raised Denise’s face; it held excitement and yearning. Denise spoke and her voice was quiet and deferential. “Thank you…Mistress, M. I have no desire to leave you or…here. I wish to be yours, your pet.”

Martinique leaned down and kissed Denise lovingly, whispering in her ear, “You are mine. I will keep you and protect you. I will show you love and I will show you care. Now, come with us.”

Martinique led Denise into the bathroom, before sitting on the toilet and having her kneel. Martinique kept her legs open, so Denise could see her urinate. “Take some paper and wipe me,” she instructed when finished.

Denise was nervous and self-conscious with this, but also very aroused and her hand shook as she pulled off several pieces of tissue. Martinique crouched slightly with her legs apart and Denise obediently wiped her, thoroughly and gently. “Now kiss me.” Martinique thrust her abdomen forward and Denise buried her face in the waiting cunt, licking and kissing it.

“That’s my good Pet,” Martinique praised.

“Thank you, Mistress …M.” Pet/Denise responded. “Please, Mistress. I need to, um, relieve myself.”

Martinique led Denise back into the other room and placed a large bowl on the ground, directing her ‘pet’ to urinate into it. Embarrassed and blushing, Denise finally pissed into the bowl with a noisy flow, as Manatos and Martinique watched. Manatos wiped her when she was finished and she was then allowed to stand and carry the bowl to the toilet.

Returning to her Mistresses, Denise was taken to Martinique’s bed and tied down spread-eagled, and the two women spent the next two hours taking turns fucking her, finally allowing an orgasm when she had begged sufficiently.

Martinique and Manatos then sandwiched Denise’s long body between them, and they all went to sleep, their submissive’s hands tied in front.


Natalie Roth and Gwyneth both waited, naked, on their knees, in the Hillman’s kitchen just by the patio doors. Ashley wanted to make sure Reyes and his crew were all gone. Anita had left and Mandy had been relegated to her room.

Ashley now marched in, “Ok, we’re good. Let’s get this party started.” In her hand she carried a bag. Samantha had a bottle of champagne and some plastic glasses in hers.

They trooped out into the yard, past the pool and on to an area beside a flower bed with a spectacular display of poppies, tulips and begonias. Ashley had placed some stakes in the ground once Reyes and the gardeners had left; he would have had a fit if he had seen her.

Natalie, hands tied behind her, Gwyneth’s used panties in her mouth, was made to kneel by one stake and she was fastened to it by a chain attached to her collar.

Gwyneth on the other hand was placed on the ground, hands and feet stretched out severely with her shaved cunt prominently on display. Ashley and Samantha took turns aggressively fingering Gwyneth and then making her lick their fingers, before they pulled down their thongs and stuffed them into her mouth.

Then they sat on the grass and poured four glasses of champagne, two they took for themselves and two they placed a short distance away. “To Gwyneth’s virginity.” Ashley toasted, and her and Samantha clicked glasses and then drank. Both girls then stood and stripped, before Ashley reached into her bag and took out two leather harnesses which they put on.

Reaching into the bag again, Ashley pulled out four dildos, giving two to Samantha; they then went and sat by Gwyneth’s face, which at that moment held a look of terror.

“Oh, poor, wittle Gwen-Gwen, don’t be afraid of the big, black plastic DINKY!” Samantha taunted, rubbing a seven-inch phallus against Gwyneth’s cheek.

“Yeah, Gwenny-Slave, your little puss-puss is gonna just eat up this mutha-fucka!” Ashley laughed, poking a green, ribbed, hard rubber cock head an inch into Gwyneth’s vagina.

The girls fastened the dildos into their harnesses, and then did rock-paper-scissors, both girls showing paper and laughing. Next round, Ashley had rock to Samantha’s scissors and cheered.

“Best two out of three.” Samantha cried.

“No way, it’s done. Now I’m gonna open up our little slut-bitch.”

Samantha laughed, “Yeah, go ahead. Once she’s open, just think of how busy that hot little va-jay-jay’s gonna be. Wo-oh!”

“Oh, yeah, now you’re talkin’, Sam the Man. I’m thinkin’ we will start renting it out by the half hour; I know there are boys at St. Mike’s who’d pay twenty bones for a shot at ‘Gwenny-cooch’.” Samantha and Ashley both collapsed on the grass in hysterics, Samantha laughing so hard she was having trouble catching her breath.

Natalie Roth was simply staring at the grass, wishing for this to be over. Gwyneth was staring up at the evening sky, which still held some light. Some day she would pay them back. Some day she would piss on their fucking faces. Some day….

Ashley had now come and knelt between Gwyneth’s legs and was looking down at her. She reached out and wiped a tear from Gwyneth’s cheek and touched it on Gwyneth’s lips. She was smiling.

Suddenly Gwyneth felt pressure on her vagina, as the plastic cock was pushed in again about an inch. Samantha was now beside her, smiling and stroking her face. ”Happy no-virgin day.” Samantha said quietly, kissing Gwyneth’s cheek.

Gwyneth grunted as the cock was pushed in a little farther; Ashley was taking her time, enjoying every moment, and then it happened; Ashley leaned forward and brought her hips in with one motion, driving the phallus in all the way.

Gwyneth made a muffled sound, but it was lost. And now Ashley was fucking her, driving the cock relentlessly with her long, slim body. Pumping the cock in and out with rapid thrusts. Samantha had gone over and pulled Natalie’s head up so she could see; her face slapped once to open her eyes.

Ashley humped Gwyneth for five or six minutes before slowly withdrawing the dildo. She removed it from the harness and looked at it. There was blood and vaginal fluids glistening in the early evening light. She wiped this against the panties in Gwyneth’s mouth.

She then got up and retrieved the champagne bottle; tipping it over Gwyneth’s panty-filled mouth, allowing champagne to soak into the cotton. Ashley smiled down at her victim, her eyes hard, enjoying this absolute power.

“Next!” She called.

“Oh-oh-oh, sluts in the yard,” Samantha called kneeling down and slowing pushing in her plastic member, which was a little larger than the one Ashley used. Samantha then began a slow fuck, not the assault that had been Ashley. She moved in a circular motion as well as in and out. Part way along, Ashley lay beside them and reached in, stroking and fondling Gwyneth’s clitoris.

Samantha maintained a nice steady pace, occasionally dipping down to kiss Gwyneth’s face. Ashley kept up a continuous massage of Gwyneth’s clit, and slowly the arousal grew. Gwyneth tried to think of other things, tried to not respond, but could not resist. After ten minutes of Samantha’s ‘fuck groove’ as she called it, Gwyneth Roth had her first orgasm while being fucked.

As she lay there panting, Samantha leaned in and whispered in her ear, ”You will always be ours, mine and Ashley’s. Nothing will ever change that fact, Gwen. We took you and we got you off; first. We own you. Forever.” And she kissed her cheek.


Martinique worked her hands down Alexander Hillman’s back, releasing the knots and relaxing the muscles.

“Ummmm, marvellous as always, Mar.” The man murmured.

“Thank you, sir.“ she replied, softly kissing his neck.

The ever present aromatic candle and a ‘Sounds of Nature CD’ were helping establish a quiet mood.

“So…things are working well with our, Miss Allen. Or should I say, Pet?” he asked.

“Yes, very much. It is always…um, rewarding I think is the word, when you plan…and things go that way.”

“Yes, indeed. Planning, always critical. And we have the keen Ms. Manatos to thank for spotting our Pet in the first place.”

Martinique was now working on the calves up to the thighs. Hillman was a slim but muscular man, with very long legs. “Zoe spotted her, but you handled it as you always do, sir. I still don’t know where you found that Jason whatever, or how you got him to invest, what, five, six months of his life…?”

Hillman grunted softly. “He was well compensated, my dear. Double what he was making as an insurance adjustor in L.A., and he lived rent free, with a vehicle, and a large bonus for how he worked at the end. No, our Roderick, or Jason as we called him, did his job and was rewarded well.”

Martinique was now taking care, as she worked the muscles in Hillman’s buttocks. Not too aggressive, yet still getting the job done. She was, as Hillman noted, a marvellous masseuse.

He spoke again, “And you, my precious one; you deserve credit as well. Our Pet is smitten with you; I think she cares more for you than me. Which is fine; the end result is the same.”

“I am yours, so all I have is yours, my master.” Martinique murmured, gently caressing Hillman’s shaved testicles.


Natalie Roth lay with Gwyneth pressed against her. Both had their hands tied in front and their collars chained to Ashley’s bedpost. The room was dark and she could hear Ashley’s steady breathing. She was sleeping soundly; Samantha likely was too, in the guest room. She kissed Gwyneth’s face softly and was startled when her eyes opened. “I thought you were asleep Gwen,” she whispered. Gwyneth just slowly shook her head.

They lay still for a while; a branch clacked against a window as the wind had come up a little, after a brief rain. Gwyneth snuggled her face into her mother’s neck.

“I hate them, the bitches.” She whispered.

Natalie paused. “I know.”

(End of Chapter 06)

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A Conspiracy of Bitches By LongDarkRoad Chapter Five Training: The Essence of Transformation

A Conspiracy of Bitches

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 05  Training: the Essence of Transformation

Martinique had drifted off to sleep with Denise lying against her. She awoke with a start and glanced at the clock: 1:30 AM. She hauled a protesting Denise up and took her into the ensuite bath of her bedroom and made her brush her teeth. “You’ll thank me.” She said.

She dressed and got the table and her things together just as Denise came out of the bathroom. They sat on the bed and kissed several times before Martinique said, “Sleep” and forced Denise to the pillow. She went to a cupboard and took out a light duvet and put it over Denise who was already drifting off.

Before leaving Martinique looked up at one corner of the room where she knew a camera was located (there were others but she knew of this one) and smiled, as she also knew Alexander Hillman would see this. Then she got her things and left.

Just after six Hillman arose and fired up his computer and then went in to the shower. When he came out, his coffee was waiting for him by his machine. Ms. Manatos is definitely efficient, Hillman thought, not for the first time.

He watched the recording of Denise’s massage and smiled; what a lovely creature, perfect for his needs in so many ways; and still innocent. Amazing. Once the two women had gone to sleep Hillman fast forwarded through to when they arose briefly and he smiled at Martinique being ‘cheeky’. She was quite the girl.

Hillman then noticed the email file from his contact in Boston. Barb Quinn was the person who watched over Ashley and reported back to him. Years ago when Hillman’s father first brought him into management someone made the suggestion that having background info, on both your enemies and your friends, was of value. Hillman didn’t want to use anyone known to his father so he found a young investigator with just a few years in; not jaded yet but keen and energetic.

Barb Quinn proved to be a valued resource and had stayed with him all these years. Rewarded well by Hillman, Quinn was essentially retired; she had the one client and the one target; Hillman and his daughter.

After letting him know she thought Ashley might be involved with a girl, Hillman had instructed her to place a camera in the front entrance way and see what came up. Quinn, who had keys to all of Hillman’s residences, including the Hamptons, was in and out of the Boston home in fifteen minutes installing the device; Mandy was involved in her television shows, the grounds crew were in the back and no one else was at home. No problem.

Hillman was now watching her edited feed from the camera. It showed a tall, attractive girl arriving around 7:30 PM, greeted very warmly by Ashley when she came in; long kiss with Ashley forcing her hand down the girl’s jeans, before both headed off, presumably to Ashley’s room. The girl left at 9:30 PM; definitely something there.

Hillman wasn’t bothered much by this, he liked women having sex together, even his daughter; but he did direct Barb; kindly find out everything about this girl. Thnx. H.; oh, and put a camera in Ashley’s room….


Samantha, Ashley and Gwyneth were in one of the girls’ washrooms. Gwyneth was on her knees, her head under Samantha’s skirt, softly kissing and licking the thong covering her ‘pubes’ and the area around it. It was reckless but exciting, but they would only risk it for a moment; but in that moment, Ashley showed Samantha a slip of paper with one name written on it: Ms. Woodward, languages teacher; her next target.


Denise had arisen shortly after 8:00 AM; they were to have a meeting that afternoon with a French company and Denise was to be the front person for the communications division of The Hillman Group.

She woke with a complex mixture of emotions; shame, guilt, desire, wonder; maybe mostly wonder. She had engaged in sex with another woman. She had no deep personal objections to women loving each other; she had simply never considered it.

She had not had a very sexual life thus far. While first serious boyfriend Andy had been relentless with his sex drive, pushing her into things she wasn’t comfortable with, and even though she believed she was ‘in love’ with him, she eventually cut the relationship off because of the stress and sexual demands.

Since then she had avoided relationships, and certainly had not considered being with a woman. But last night; she couldn’t help but smile when she remembered; and she really wanted to see Martinique again, but was fearful that the lovely woman had just been doing a job and would laugh at her feelings.

That would be too hard to take just now.


When Denise came out onto the sun-drenched patio, Martinique was already there, lying completely naked on a lounge chair, facing the sea. She smiled broadly at Denise when she saw her and held up her hand. Denise came to her and clasped the hand, with Martinique pulling her in for a kiss. “Here, let’s bring this one over so we are together.” She said, lifting another lounge chair and placing it beside her.

Denise was wearing a fairly brief suit but had a light half-bathing robe on.

Moments after arriving, the woman who had served them yesterday appeared, once again naked. “Bonjour Mademoiselle.” The woman greeted her and Martinique said the woman’s name was Lucie, but she did not speak English, so she ordered some toast, juice and tea for Denise.

“Is she related to you?” Denise asked as Lucie hurried away.

“A cousin, why? Because we are both…naked?” Martinique asked with a twinkle in her eye.

“No,” Denise laughed, ”But you do look quite, similar.”

“You are right, my sweet.” And Martinique moved her face beside Denise’s for a moment. Her fragrance, orange-scent of some kind, was lovely. Martinique then kissed her softly, tenderly several times quickly, and leaned back, looking at her.

Denise looked down shyly from the gaze. “Here, let me help you with this.” Martinique declared untying Denise’s top and bottom straps, despite her protests, and pulling them away, leaving her naked beneath her light robe.

“There, that is much, much better. Your body should be seen; you need sun; and worship. You need tender kisses and deep massages, my sweet one.”

Denise, self-conscious at first, relaxed quickly. This was actually very nice. Lying naked in the sun by the lovely Mediterranean, a very attractive partner beside you, someone bringing you breakfast. She smiled a broad smile, then leaned over and kissed Martinique warmly on the mouth. “I like you.” She said simply. Martinique then stroked her face and was about to speak, when Lucie returned with a tray.


Hollins and Associates were a Boston based investigation firm. Abe Hollins was the fifty-year-old former homicide detective who had opened the business eight years ago. When the tall, beautiful and young woman had been ushered into his office six months ago

he could not imagine why she would need his services.

Then he found out she was not quite eighteen. And then he found out she was a Hillman; one of the Hillmans, the daughter Ashley. His first thought was self-preservation; get her the Hell out of his office. But she had convinced him otherwise; she was a smart cookie, all business, no nonsense. They wouldn’t start working for her for a couple of months until she was ‘legal’, but they could set things up now.

Interesting girl. She had his firm do background and dirt-digging on all the teachers of her school, and some of the families in Beacon Hill. That was a little stressful. He had drawn the line on looking into her own mother and father, though; way too dangerous, and Hollins told her that straight out. She had kept them busy though.


Denise had just finished her food and was sipping her tea when she was startled to see Alexander Hillman come striding in, looking fresh and attractive in a blue sports shirt and white slacks, and her naked. She thought about covering up but Martinique put a hand on her arm.

“Well, well, this is wonderful.” Hillman stated, “To come out to the Mediterranean sunshine and find two gorgeous young women sitting naked on my patio. I am a lucky man.” Both women laughed but Denise suddenly felt more exposed than at any time in her life; Hillman however was not startled or flustered; but of course, he was very used to naked women around him. It was the way he wanted it. And Alexander Hillman always got what he wanted.

“No need to feel shy, my Denise. This is the way you should be. A woman like you really should be naked almost all the time; not this afternoon for our presentation, that would be too distracting; but most of the time. Oh, did you enjoy your…treat last night?”

Denise blushed and murmured, “It was amazing.” And she smiled at Martinique who was, however, completely focused on Hillman.

Hillman then looked at Martinique, who smiled at him warmly. He reached his hand up and stoked her naked labia, pulling then on the gold ring. She continued to stare at him and smile. Denise looked on with wonder, then realized that this scene was arousing her.

Hillman continued. “Martinique wears a ring for me. She of course has a ring on her right hand, as do you Denise, a gift from me. But she wears this one indicating her…commitment to me.” As Hillman continued to gently stroke her sex, Martinique opened her legs a little, then placed her hand gently over his.

“I am yours, Mr. Hillman. You know that.” She said quietly. Hillman continued in his rich voice.

“I heard of this woman from a friend. She was working a brothel in Paris, with her cousin. You have met her, too. My friend had certainly enjoyed his ‘Happy Ending’ massage, but thought the massage itself was incredible, as was the masseuse. Martinique. I brought her here; it’s been, what: ?”

“Eighteen months, Mr. Hillman.” Martinique purred.

“Yes, eighteen months.” Hillman then moved his hand to Denise’s left leg, adjusting it a couple of inches so her sex opened. She gasped, inaudibly, and felt a surge of pure desire. With a sense of wonder, she realized an absolutely amazing thing; she wanted Alexander Hillman to fuck her. Fuck her, right there.

She struggled mightily for a moment, and then he removed his hand and Lucie came in with a fruit bowl and his coffee.


When Ashley had hired an investigation firm, she had some fantasies about what she would learn and how she would use it. She had imagined all along that she would blackmail people. That was the whole point; to find information embarrassing or damaging to people; so much so that they would prefer to submit to her rather than be exposed. Like what was happening with the Roths; although that was more complicated.

After having the lives of her teachers examined; their finances, for example, she’d had several of them followed. In most cases there was nothing; these were boring people living boring (that is, no scandals) lives. There were a couple of exceptions, however, and Ashley intended to exploit these; starting today with Diana (Dee Dee, lame nickname) Woodward, language teacher and frequenter of lesbian bars.

Being a lesbian was no longer a school issue, although Woodward was not some butch; she was quite feminine and kept to herself; for the most part. But lewd behavior could still be grounds for dismissal, depending. Hollins’ staff had several photos of Woodward in public engaging in what would definitely be considered lewd behavior.

Photos of Woodward partly naked riding the face of another partly naked woman in a bar; Woodward in a park, at night, but still out in public, pants off and legs spread as her partner aggressively fingered her. There was video of that as well as the photos. But the clincher, and Ashley did not know how they got this one, was a video taken in one of the classrooms of some woman (not a teacher) undressing Woodward completely and then making her display herself on her desk.

Ashley had frozen the moment that Woodward was staring at the woman (as she took a photo with her cell) and smiling, fingers busily probing her pussy. OMG, thought Ashley, just unbelievable.

She and Samantha entered Woodward’s room just a few minutes after last bell. No one else was there. They hadn’t knocked, just came in and strode to the woman’s desk. She was seated and looked alarmed at their entrance.

“May I help you girls?” she asked, her brow furrowed.

“She wants to help us, Sam?” Ashley said, looking at her friend, who sported a nasty smirk.

“Well that’s exciting, Ash. Wonder if she’s any good?” Samantha replied and stared down at the woman who was behind her desk. Mid-twenties, five-five likely, slim but with round buttocks and small breasts. Short, dark brown curly hair parted in the middle. Brown eyes. She was wearing a blue school blazer and a grey skirt (not pleated like the students, however.) And a tie; that was interesting, Ashley noted.

“You two will need to explain your presence, and your…rudeness.” The woman said, rising. But there was still concern on her face. She was well aware of who was standing before her.

“Sit down, Miss Woodward, and be quiet.” Ashley said, a glint in her eye.

“Well I never…” Woodward began, but then Ashley leaned forward and slapped the woman across the face. It was a solid blow and stunned the woman.

“Sit down, Bitch.” Ashley ordered.

“Listen, this is ridic…” But at that point, Ashley grabbed the woman’s tie and yanked her down to her desk.

Grabbing a handful of her hair, she said quietly, “Sit. Down.”

The woman sat down, rubbing her face, anger and fear in her eyes. Ashley sat on one corner of her desk while Samantha sat on the other. They were very intimidating.

Ashley began. “Being a lesbian isn’t an issue, Dee Dee. I like girls sometimes, myself. But you have been a naughty little rug muncher, haven’t you?”

Woodward looked now with fear; the anger had vanished.

One by one, Ashley placed photos on the teacher’s desk. Woodward stared with growing horror. “Where did you get these?” she whispered.

Ashley and Samantha exchanged a look. “What a tool, hey Sam?”

“Not the brightest of the bunch, Ash.”

“There’s lots more where these came from, Dee Dee. Including video; very hot stuff.”

“Sweet.” Samantha added.

“Awesome.” Ashley murmured.

“Smokin’….” Sam snorted.

“Fan-fucking-tastic.” Ashley concluded, laughing out loud. Then she handed the woman a slip of paper with her address. “Be there at eight, or your world comes apart, Dee Dee.”

The girls turned and strode away, leaving Ms. Woodward sitting and looking very much like she would throw up.


The meeting had gone very well. Denise had looked every bit the business woman, clothed in a tailored outfit that had been made for her that day, on the spot, Hillman bringing a tailor and staff right to his villa. Under the outfit, Denise wore what she would have considered scandalous lingerie only a couple of days ago, but which she felt today to be elegant, sophisticated and sexy; which she was ok with. Standing looking at herself wearing only a lace bra, garter, silk stockings and tiny thong, she had smiled when Ms. Manatos said simply, “Smashing. Now you’re getting the picture, Ms. Allen.”

After the presentation and as the group were gathering their things, Hillman had whispered in her ear, “Very well done, my dear.” And that simple statement had sent a tremor directly to her vagina, which she would have grabbed had she been alone.

Now the two of them were finishing a lovely meal in the dining area of his villa; a room with a wall of windows and a panoramic view of the sea. Denise was wearing only her lingerie; and now feeling fine with it. She liked Alexander Hillman looking at her; she was not just getting used to it, but liking it. He stroked her arm as he rose to head out on the patio for his coffee, “I believe Martinique has booked some time for you.”

Denise headed for her room, and found Martinique with her table set up and her candle burning, standing naked looking out the window. The woman took Denise’s hand to lead her to the table, when Denise tugged her back. “No, Mart, I want it to be here.” And she pulled the other woman down with her to the bed. Denise rolled over and spread her legs, Martinique lay between them and they began to grind and hump. Martinique then swung around and began kissing her way toward Denise’s abdomen.

Martinique swung a leg over so she was straddling Denise, and her crotch and ass was directly above Denise’s face. Denise did not hesitate, she lifted her face and pushed her mouth and nose into the waiting vagina directly above her. She licked and sucked hungrily at the fleshy folds before running her tongue up the cleft and crack to the waiting asshole.

Meanwhile Martinique had buried her face into Denise’s cunt and was sucking it furiously. Denise came first but she maintained her hold on Martinique and soon the woman’s hips were thrusting as well and she moaned aloud in delight.

Twenty minutes later, the two women lay side by side, completely mellowed after several orgasms, swimming in their own drugs, they were experiencing a very personal high. Denise continued to kiss and lick her lover’s face, almost insatiable. Martinique’s throaty laugh rolled around the room; she was not laughing at any one thing, she just felt good. For Denise, she could not remember ever feeling better.

Martinique crawled off and went to the bathroom. She left the door open and Denise could hear her pissing. In a moment she came back and leaned over to kiss Denise, who asked her, “Where are you going?”

“I cannot keep you just to myself. But, I may see you later.” And with a kiss, she was gone.


At two minutes to eight, Ashley’s doorbell chimed. She strolled to answer it, Samantha waiting up in her room. Of course it was Diana Woodward standing on the step, looking apprehensive. “Come in, Dee Dee, follow me.” And Ashley led the way to her room. They entered and closed the door.

“Welcome, sweet Di. Join us.” And she held up a shooter. Reluctantly, Woodward took the drink, Tequila, and downed it with a choke and a cough, then stood, watching and waiting. Ashley came behind her and cupped the woman’s breasts from behind, towering over the woman by five inches. She kissed the back of her neck while gently squeezing the orbs and pulling the nipples she felt through the blouse and bra.

Slowly she unbuttoned the blouse and then sat down, as Samantha now joined in, also cradling Woodward from the back, but grinding her pelvis into the woman’s ass. She slipped off the blouse and kissed and then licked the woman’s neck. Despite her situation and her resentment at what she was being forced to do, Woodward was becoming aroused. She reached her hand up and stroked Samantha’s face, and when Samantha turned the woman’s head, she returned Samantha’s kiss with passion.

Samantha undid the bra and removed it, and the two small, pert breasts became available. Samantha pulled and pawed these, bending forward and sucking them aggressively, the entire right breast disappearing into her mouth. She then sat on the bed.

“Take off your pants.” Ashley commanded.

“And those sexy panties.” Samantha added, looking at the surprisingly brief thong the teacher was wearing.

“Turn around and bend over.” Ashley now directed. When Woodward complied, both the girls took photos. Ashley and Samantha both undressed and ordered Woodward to crawl on the bed to them. They had her then eat out their pussies, side by side, Woodward sucking one then the other and back to the first until both girls had an orgasm.


The next morning in his villa, Alexander Hillman would watch this show in amazement, but it wouldn’t be the only stimulation he would experience.

After Martinique had left, Zoe Manatos had immediately entered, standing by the bed and regarding the naked, satisfied woman lying before her. Denise opened her eyes and looked up. “Oh, hello Ms. Manatos.”

“Hello Miss Allen. This is good to see. You are getting into it, finding yourself.” She sat in a chair and Denise sat up. Just three days ago she would have been covering herself frantically, but tonight she was comfortable turning to face Ms. Manatos completely naked. “You have enjoyed being with…Martinique?”

Denise smiled and felt a blush rising; there was still some self-conscious response in actually talking about it. “Ye-yes. I am…enjoying Martinique…very much.”

“She enjoys you (Denise felt a surge; excitement? Anxiety?) and wishes to be with you, as much as possible. But, you know Ms. Allen, in life reward has a cost.” The way Ms. Manatos spoke caused a tiny feeling of dread to begin creeping up her spine. Denise watched as Manatos stood and placed something on the chest of

Drawers; and then quietly left.

Fearful, but not knowing why, Denise slid off the bed and approached the chest of drawers. What she saw filled her swiftly with a feeling of panic she could not believe.

Staring at her from the top of the chest was an airline ticket; for New York City.


Ashely lay on her bed, softly sliding her fingers up and down the lips of her pussy. It had had quite a workout tonight; Miss Woodward’s tongue was experienced and energetic. Things had gone so well so far, it was unbelievable; or maybe not. Ashley had high expectations in life. She was not grateful: you plan, you have power, you take, you enjoy; that was life.

Mandy, Pauline, Gwyneth and now Woodward. Things were definitely playing out very well; perhaps she should slow down?…No, what would be the fun in that??

Woodward had left with clear instructions of her ‘role’ as Slave-teacher to her new Mistresses. They had a nice cell phone video of her, naked on her knees, fingers jammed into her cunt, stating for the record that Ashley Hillman and Samantha Knight were her owners and she would serve them faithfully.

Then the video showed her leaning forward and licking an asshole (it was Samantha’s, at that point; it would be Ashley’s later) with dedication, if not devotion. With training, Diana Woodward should become a useful toy.

The camera Barb Quinn had installed then showed a very  contented Ashley reaching over and turning off her light.

(End of Chapter 05)

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A Conspiracy of Bitches By LongDarkRoad Chapter Four Puppets With Illusions

A Conspiracy of Bitches

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 04  Puppets With Illusions

Gwyneth was watching, making mental notes, of the girls at Windsor Academy. She knew what she was looking for; someone isolated, vulnerable. And of course it needed to be ‘A Barbarian’; it couldn’t be someone, say, from Beacon Hill. She glanced at her watch and headed to the girls’ washroom at the end of the southeast corridor; it had far less ‘traffic’.

Although it was a couple of minutes early, her Mistress, Samantha was already there. God, I would just love to scream at her, Gwyneth thought, as she knelt obediently before the girl.

“Um, that’s a good, little slave. Show me you are ready, slut.”

Gwyneth stood, turned and bending forward slightly, raised her grey pleated skirt. Samantha tugged down the pantyhose and moved the tiny thong over, revealing that the black butt plug was in place. Samantha slapped Gwyneth’s ass several times, saying. “That’s a very good slave. Now. ‘Devotion time’.

This was Mistress Samantha’s newest thing for Slave Gwyneth; whenever they greeted, the slave was to tell the mistress how much she loved her; and the mistress needed to be convinced or there would be punishment.

Pulling up her pantyhose and turning, Gwyneth clasped her arms around her slightly taller former friend and whispered in her ear, “I love you Mistress Samantha. I am yours, completely.” And she then began placing soft, brief kisses along the side of Samantha’s face.

Even though it was ‘a game’, Samantha felt a tug deep within, and she hugged Gwyneth, then the two shared a long, deep kiss. When they broke apart, Gwyneth looked at her mistress.

“I love you, Samantha. I love you so much.”


Denise Allen had timed things well she believed. Still, as she waited in the area outside the appraiser’s, a sense of dread settled on her, lifted only when she thought of Mr. Hillman’s offer. But first she needed to find out if what he had said was true, about the engagement ring anyway; she was pretty sure everything else he had said was accurate; he seemed to be that sort of man.

The door opened and Mr. Azir waved her in; he had been recommended by Ms. Grant; Denise didn’t know anyone in New York to appraise diamonds and there were diamond merchants all over; who knew who to trust?

Mr. Azir handed her the ring and she knew from his face the answer; when he said, “I’m sorry, Ms. Allen; this is a nice fake, but a fake it is,” she was not surprised.

As she headed back up the avenue she made two calls; the first was to Jason. She got his voice mail and left a message asking to meet him after work. The second was to Mr. Hillman’s assistant.

“Zoe Manatos, assistant to Alexander Hillman.”

“Yes, er, Ms. Manatos, this is Denise Allen…”

And so it was arranged. At 9:45 the next morning a car would come for her, and she would accompany Mr. Hillman to France. As she walked, two emotions struggled within her. Anxiety for her meeting with Jason and pure excitement at the thought of this trip, work though it may be.


Pauline’s long strides took her to the Hillman’s front door quickly, but Ashley opened it before she could ring.

“Expecting me, Mistress Ashley?” Pauline said with a smirk.

“Get in here, slave,” Ashley ordered, grabbing Pauline by the shoulders and hauling her in. The two tall, young women then shared several kisses, ending with Ashley licking Pauline’s throat and grabbing her lips in her teeth, before gently releasing her. Ashley held Pauline by the shoulders for another moment before sighing and saying, “Fucking assignments.”

“I know.” Pauline concurred.

“You get busy then. There’s the one for history and then that written thing.” She kissed her quickly on the mouth and then turned and hurried back upstairs.

In her bedroom, Samantha and Gwyneth, both naked, were lying on her bed. Ashley left them and then strolled to her parent’s room, still maintained even though they had not used it in months. Mandy was tied on the bed, in a spread-eagle position, a ball gag in her mouth. Ashley checked the clothespins that she had attached to Mandy’s substantial labia. There were six on each side, and as she pulled on them, Mandy made muffled sounds and moved her hips.

“How many men have fucked you, in your sausage lip pussy, Jemima?” Ashley asked, aware of course that Mandy could not answer. Her eyes said a great deal however; they were blazing. Ashley laughed.

Back in the bedroom, Samantha and Gwyneth were sharing a long kiss. Gwyneth had told her mistress that she loved her five or six times, getting into the role, like an actor in a play. Perhaps Samantha was convincing herself the words were genuine; who knew?  but her body was responding. Gwyneth worked at soft kisses, that were now becoming more urgent, grinding her pelvis against Samantha’s hip as she did.

“Uhhmmmn, Samantha, I want to be yours,“ Gwyneth moaned into her mistress’s ear; no remonstration for failing to call her by the demanded term, Samantha was too busy humping Gwyneth’s leg.

“Do you want me, Bitch?” Samantha purred, turning Gwyneth on her back. Gwyneth spread her legs then wrapped them around Samantha, both girls humping with urgency. Suddenly, Samantha grabbed Gwyneth hard, groaning into her ear, hands grasping her hair, pelvis’s locked in unified thrusts.

Samantha then lay unmoving, still holding Gwyneth tightly. “Oh, God. Oh, God, Oh God.” She murmured.

Gwyneth permitted herself a sly smile. Who was the puppet and who held the strings, she wondered.


As Ashley and Pauline were going through the challenging History assignment, Anita entered.

“Hello Miss Ashley,” she said as soon as she saw the girls at the table. “How many for dinner tonight, please.”

“Oh wow,” Ashley exclaimed, “You’re here, look at the time. Um, let’s see. Samantha and, uh…Gwyneth, will be staying.”

“Very good, Miss, very good.”

Ashley looked at Pauline, “Ok, we can wrap this up in a few minutes, but you have to come back tonight. I order you.”

Pauline smiled, “I hear and I obey, oh Queen.”

“Hey, slave; I don’t think you’re treating this relationship with the proper amount of respect. There’ll be punishment for you.”

“There probably would be anyway,” Pauline smiled again.

Ashley whispered, “Your sweet ass is gonna’ pay for that, slaaaaave.” Ashley dragged this last word out slowly, running her hand up Pauline’s leg.


Denise sat drinking her tea. The thing was done and

Jason had stormed off with his fake ring. His pathetic explanation for why it wasn’t genuine would have been laughable if it hadn’t hurt so much. Was it all lies, Denise asked herself, was everything a deceit or a fraud? She dabbed at one eye and sighed, then stood to leave. She had a lot to do for tomorrow.


Ashley and Samantha were finished eating. They were watching Gwyneth, who was taking longer as she had to eat her food on the floor with her hands tied. The two mistresses were not entirely contrary; they did occasionally pick up some food with their toes, dropping it into Gwyneth’s waiting mouth like a mother bird and her chick. Of course, the chick wasn’t required to lick the mother’s feet afterwards, like Gwyneth was.

“Ok, you two need to get going.” Ashley announced, “Gwenny-slave can sleep at her own place or Mistress Sam’s, but not here tonight.”

“Got plans, Mistress Ash?” Samantha asked with a cheeky grin.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Ashley purred. “Ok, now let’s get moving.”


Pauline was tied on the same bed Mandy had been on four hours earlier, only she was tied face down so Ashley could focus on the lovely ass. Ashley’s panties were in Pauline’s mouth, and her buttocks were reddening as Ashley slapped one, then the other, in a steady rhythm. Pauline had begun to squirm as her ass heated up, when suddenly she felt a finger probing her asshole.

Ashley climbed off the bed, returning in a moment, and Pauline felt the coolness of lotion now being applied generously into her back hole. Ashley squeezed one, then two and finally three fingers into the tight ass, scooping her hand around and jerking it back and forth. Then there was a pause, as Ashley was doing something behind her slave’s back end.

Now Pauline felt pressure on her opening as Ashley began to work the purple dildo into the resisting space. The lubrication did the trick, however, and soon Ashley’s hips were driving the rubber insertion in and out of Pauline’s ass, both girls grunting in unison.

Ashley pulled the soggy thong from Pauline’s mouth as she held the girl by her shoulders and drove the phallus into her ass. Ashley then lay down on top of Pauline, whispering in her ear.

“Are you my bitch?”

“Uh, um, uh…yes, Mistress, um, uh, Ash…uh…ley. I am; um …your bitch. Uh.” Pauline answered between grunts.

Ashley slowed her thrusts, going now to a circular motion as she kissed Pauline’s shoulders and neck. “That’s good. That’s verrrry good. ‘Cause I like you…a lot.”


Alexander Hillman opened the new file on his laptop; it had been sent just minutes before. It was from one of his people in Boston. A note in an email spoke to the file; “I think your daughter has a girlfriend.” The photos then showed a tall, attractive, slim girl leaving the Hillman residence at about 9:30 PM.

Hmmmm, Hillman wondered, why would they assume this girl was involved with Ashley, just because she was at the house? He would need to speak with them, or contact them anyway, since tomorrow he would be flying back to his villa.

And, good news from Zoe; it appeared Ms. Allen would be going back with them. He pulled up some photos of her. Yes, it would be pleasant seeing that lovely, long body in all its natural glory. Yes, yes, he smiled to himself, he had big plans for the lovely…Denise.


Gwyneth moved her hips, trying to find a spot on the floor that was a little more comfortable. She was lying by Samantha’s bed; a collar around her neck chained to the corner post; her hands bound loosely in front with a cord, wearing only a T-shirt; at least the butt plug had been removed. Her school uniform was hanging on the closet door handle; she had everything for tomorrow.

She felt the mattress move, as Samantha shifted around, then suddenly a hand was on her shoulder. Samantha was unhooking the collar and untying the cord. She lifted Gwyneth’s shirt over her head and brought her up to the bed, turning her so her naked back was against Samantha’s naked front.

Samantha’s clasped her arms around Gwyneth, cupping a breast in one hand. Gwyneth pressed her hips back against Samantha’s abdomen and twisted her head around. Samantha kissed her mouth, then put her tongue out; Gwyneth sucked and licked it slowly, lovingly.

Together they drifted off to sleep.


Ashley and Gywneth rode along in silence. “So what did Sam…Mistress Samantha, say?”

“She just said to tell you she would see you at school, she had…something to do.”

“Hmmmm,” Ashley responded, considering, then looked out the window in thought.

They rode that way for a while before Gwyneth spoke. “Had you…thought about doing this to me…for a while?”

Ashley turned and looked at her, her face hard to read. ”I didn’t hear any ‘Mistress’ there, Slave.”

“It’s just the two of us, Ashley. It seems silly to play this…game.”

“You think it’s a game, Gwenny?” Ashley looked at her, a small smile playing on her luscious lips.

“Isn’t it?” Gwyneth asked, her voice flat, her face emotionless.

“Hmmm.” Ashley snorted. They sat in silence again, before Ashley began. “I have known for a while that you, your family, were pretenders, fakers. I wanted to expose you, all of you, but wasn’t sure of, well, shit. When I took over some…things for my father, your family’s…debt came up. Also, I had been watching some ‘Lesbo training’ videos, thinking, you know; that should be Gwenny, on her knees, wearing a collar, serving us. It’s not personal Gwen-slave, it’s just, like…real. And…it’s not a game.”

But it is, Gwyneth thought. They drove the rest of the way to school in silence.


The large town car pulled into an area south of where two jets stood. This was Linden actually, a private airstrip a few miles away from JFK. Zoe Manatos was there to greet Denise as she stepped out of the back door. The driver was retrieving her suitcase and soon it was rolling along behind the two women as they walked across the tarmac.

Manatos, at five-four, needed to walk briskly to keep up with the long strides of her tall companion. She asked Denise to give her her passport, and they climbed the stairs of The Hillman Group’s jet. Mr. Hillman had airport personnel come to the plane; there were never any questions.

The man himself was seated in one of the eight chairs, all dark brown leather, waiting. “Ah, Ms. Allen, so good to have you with us. Please sit here.” He indicated the seat beside him. Unlike regular aircraft of course, these seats were comfortable and roomy, with lots of leg room which both Allen and Hillman could use. “This is Ms. Ohrana, our flight attendant.” Hillman said, as an energetic looking woman in a blue uniform bustled up to them from some area at the front of the plane. Hillman ordered a glass of white wine for Denise and a coffee for himself and Ms. Manatos, who was seated in a chair across from the other two.

The pilot came on and introduced himself and the co-pilot and asked them to fasten their seat belts as they would begin taxiing in a few minutes. Denise’s mind was awhirl; could this really be happening? She felt like pinching herself to see if she would wake up.


Between the second and third periods, as Ashley made her way to her Statistics and Probability class, she saw Samantha just coming up some stairs. She waited as her friend came toward her, a smirk on her face.

“Hey Bitch.” Ashley greeted.

“Bitch too, f-you.” Samantha replied.

“So what was so important this morning you missed riding with me, hmmmm?”

“Something….” Samantha smiled.

“Yeah, what, like I need to guess, ho’?”

“Yeah, who’s da ho’, ho’?”

They both laughed and Ashley said, “C’mon for fuck’s sake, just tell me.”

“Ok, it’s something long and hard, and makes you feel gooood,”

“Oh Christ, Jack was fucking you? That’s where you were; what the Hell?”

“Well he’s been out of town for ten f’in days. C’mon

yourself. Some of us girls have needs, girl.” Samantha said of her twenty-something ‘boyfriend’.

“How is the old, plumber?” Ashley smirked.



“He’s good. He missed me. He did me three positions; he wanted to come in my mouth again but I said not a chance. He’s always pissed at that.”

“Tell him he should come in his own mouth if he likes it so much.” Ashley added, and then the warning bell sounded and they had two minutes to get to their next class. “See you at lunch, bitch ho’.”

“Takes a ho’ to know a ho’.” Samantha replied skipping off.

“Shut up.” Ashley added heading down the stairs.


Class change for the final period of the day was on and Ashley and Pauline slipped into a washroom and noted with smiles that it was vacant. Ashley pushed Pauline against a wall and smothered her mouth while aggressively mauling her breasts. Pauline put her hands above her head and held them there as if tied, being open then to all Ashley wished to do.

Ashley shoved a hand up Pauline’s skirt and squeezed her pussy as aggressively as she had her breast, Pauline moaning and moving her hips in response.

“Come to my house tonight.” Ashley commanded.

“Yes,…my Mistress.” Pauline replied, smiling and opening her legs wide. “I wish you could do me right here.”

“Don’t give me any ideas, horny slut. I’m having a hard enough time without that. Oh, fuck, there’s the warning. We need to run.” And off they went.


It was early evening. There had been some rain that day so the air was a little cool, but still pleasant. Alexander and Denise were seated at a table on the patio of his villa, the sea to Alexander’s right. The meal had been excellent; the Hillmans prided themselves on employing top level chefs, even Anita at their Boston residence was outstanding.

Alexander was sipping his coffee and Denise her tea; she had had the tour of the villa and once again felt like this was a dream; the home was seventeen rooms and was spectacular; everything in it was expensive, the wood, the carpets, the furnishings; and the view. Huge windows were everywhere, so the view of the sea was always close at hand. Alexander had said they would at some point go out on his boat, if the weather was calm.

As they finished up, a woman, naked but for a collar and sandals, appeared and removed the dishes. The first time the woman had arrived with food, Denise was taken aback, but had since become a little more comfortable with it. The woman was probably about her age and had a nice body. Denise had snuck a peek or two when she could, noticing the completely shaven pubic area and the labia ring, which she would have liked to examine a little more.

“Now my dear, I would like for you to retire to your room as I have a little treat for you. Martinique, one of my, staff, is an outstanding masseuse and she will do wonders for you after the long flight.” When Denise began to mildly protest, Alexander held up a large hand and said, “House rules. New arrivals have a massage; no arguments.”

He stood and soon they were heading down a hallway and Denise was entering her room.

Having never had a massage, of any sort, in her life, Denise sat on the edge of the bed and waited. There was a soft rap on her door, but before she could answer it, Zoe Manatos entered. Denise opened her mouth, but Manatos was faster. “Ok, Ms. Allen, let’s get going. Everything off now.” As she was saying this she was setting up a portable table she had brought in.

Denise continued to simply sit and stare; she knew what Zoe had said, but she was immobile. Manatos had the table up and clamps clicked into place when she looked over at Denise with a look of puzzlement. “Why are you just…sitting there?” she asked.

Denise felt a surge of embarrassment, she knew her face was reddening and she stammered, “Well…I…um…I mean that, um….”

Ms. Manatos simply looked at her, then came and stood in front, gently lifting her chin with one hand and saying, “Ok, now you really need to get over this shy-stuff, hmmmm? You are a beautiful woman who hides her assets and is so tied up with guilt or whatever that you’re petrified.

A woman is coming in to massage you; a wo-man, understand, not a camera crew or a mens football team. A woman. Just. Like. You. With breasts and a vagina, just like yousy-woosy. Okee-dokee? Now, stop acting like you’re seven at your first sleep over and get undressed. I have a towel for your naughty parts, okay?”

Suitably chastised and in a kind of daze, Denise stood and removed everything until she got to her bra and panties, and then she looked uncertain again. Ms. Manatos went back into action, unclipping the bra and tugging it away, and then pulling down the panties and tossing them.

“Ok, up on the table you go, on your tummy.”

Denise climbed up and lay flat, with Ms. Manatos laying a small white towel over her round buttocks. “There you go, all set. Although we’re going to have to do something with that bush of yours. Yow, I’ll go get my hedge trimmers.” And Manatos kissed her on the cheek and left, and as she was leaving, another woman came in.

Denise turned her head and saw an enchanting woman, late twenties, five-six or seven, lovely olive skin, beautiful dark brown-black hair, thick and tied into a chain hanging halfway down her back. The woman was lighting a candle, and soon its sweet smell drifted lazily to the table. Then she came and knelt by Denise, looking up; her face was flawless and looked to have not a speck of any make-up.

“Hello, Ms. Allen, my name is Martinique.”

“Please, Denise.” Denise said raising her head and extending a hand in greeting. Martinique took the hand, but kissed it rather than shaking it.

“No, it is Ms. Allen. That is the direction I am given and so it will be.“ Her speech held just a hint of a French accent. “Now, to make you more comfortable, I will undress too”, and she did, quickly shedding her robe-like covering and standing completely naked beside the table. Denise noted that she too had a shaved pubis and a labia ring, but no collar. She looked a lot like the earlier woman, a little taller; perhaps they were sisters.

Martinique spread some warm oil on Denise’s back and began to squeeze from the shoulder blades up to the neck and back down the spine. Her hands and fingers were firm and deliberate; one knew immediately that she was experienced, and good. Working Denise’s spine up to her scalp and back, it was only a few moments before Denise began to feel very relaxed, almost drowsy. The candle’s aroma was also relaxing.

Standing at the table’s head, Martinique began to push her hands all the way down to Denise’s buttocks; when she did this, Denise opened her eyes and saw the unshaven vagina less than an inch from her nose. She had a sudden urge to kiss it, but closed her eyes and let the wonderful hands knead her flesh. She didn’t even notice that Martinique had removed the small towel and was gently squeezing the flesh of her buttocks.

Martinique now went to the end of the table and began long strokes up the calves and thighs, using her thumbs to dig into muscle. Denise instinctively opened her legs a little more each time the strong hands made an upward surge. Now Martinique moved partway up and began massaging the buttocks again with firm, circular strokes. Each time she made a circle, she spread the cheeks apart.

Denise did not want to acknowledge it, but there was a growing tension in her vagina. While she had not had a lot of sexual experience, just her first boyfriend Andy; and having not had sex yet with Jason; she did enjoy masturbation. Right now more than anything she wanted to reach a hand down and begin rubbing her clit.

Suddenly a wonderful sensation spread through her body;  Martinique had poured warm oil down the crack of her buttocks and into her vagina; and had begun a slow and steady pulling and squeezing of her labia. Denise began to move her hips, little moans and sighs seeping from her. Martinique was pulling hard now against the area just beside her labia while pumping two fingers into the now oiled opening. Denise’s sighs were now,”Ohh, Ohhh, Oh, OOHHs,” until suddenly, “UN…AAAAAaaaHHhhh!” accompanied by leg spasms that showed Martinique that she had been successful.

Resting a moment, she then gently flipped Denise over on her back. Martinique first trimmed away a fair amount of the pubic hair that had alarmed Ms. Manatos, leaving just a triangle. Then she began to work on the generous breasts and their fat nipples. After several minutes, Martinique dipped her hand back down to Denise’s pubis, with a slow circling of her clitoris and a steady fingering with two fingers. It was not long before Denise began again to breathe heavily and hold onto the hand that was working her clit. Grunts became more rapid, one hand went to her nipples and began pulling them, harder and more urgently and then another orgasm shook her.

Uuuuummmmmn. Denise was floating. She was a cloud. She was a bird. She was up, she was away. She was looking down at the mountains and the sea.

As she gradually came back to earth, she found that Martinique was holding her and kissing her softly. Denise gripped her and Martinique covered her mouth with a long searching kiss; then just held her.

“Martinique?” Denise whispered, afraid to break the spell.

“Yes my sweet girl.”

“St-stay with me. Until I fall asleep…Please.”

“I will stay with you, Ms. Allen. I will stay right here.” And she kissed her softly.

(End of Chapter 04)

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A Conspiracy of Bitches By LongDarkRoad Chapter Three No One Gives You Power

A Conspiracy of Bitches

By Long Dark Road

Chapter 03  No One Gives You Power

Sunday morning started with Ashley meeting Mandy. It was her day off and Ashley was actually glad; she didn’t want Mandy involved at all with her new slaves; they were her interest now, so Mandy was informed to take her day and not return until at least 5:00 PM.

Mandy left quickly; in fact, if this was a cartoon, there would have been those puffs of smoke hovering over the door mat after her exit.

Ashley headed back upstairs noting to herself that managing slaves was work; she would need to make some decisions; but she would talk with Sam about that later. Natalie was kneeling on the floor by Ashley’s bed when she entered; she had slept on the floor last night, with Gwyneth doing the same in one guest bedroom with Samantha.

“Good morning, Mistress,” Natalie said, eyes down.

“Yeah, right.” Ashley responded unlocking her leash. “Go and get Samantha and sweet Gwenny-slave up. We have things to do.”

Both slaves would need to use the bathroom, and Ashley smiled remembering last night. The slaves were forced to pee with Samantha and Ashley watching. Natalie had no problem; she had done this many times. Gwyneth on the other hand almost died. She was in such distress that her two mistresses thought it a good idea to make her stand as she pissed, which they of course recorded.

During the day and evening, they had taken many ‘selfies’ of their new toy, alone and with them. So many that after a while Gwyneth actually began to just ignore it. Today, however, they planned to torment her by showing her the most obscene or upsetting pictures and threatening her with their release.

For now, the four women all gathered in the extra-large shower in her parents’ ensuite, and the two slaves washed their Mistresses. When all clean, they then needed to service them orally.

The pairings had been kept, Natalie with Ashley and Gwyneth with Samantha, and that was how they were now, Ashley lying on her bed with Natalie’s face between her legs, enthusiastically eating her out. Ashley had experienced only minor orgasms so far in her young sexual life; not having gotten into masturbation early as some of her classmates, like Samantha for instance, had.

So last night when she had experienced a very pleasant climax courtesy of Gwyneth’s soft tongue, she was doubly pleased. A slave to torment and a wonderful ending. Now, lying very relaxed on her bed with an experienced woman pleasuring her, she could feel another orgasm building. She just lay back and allowed the thing to build when suddenly Natalie took her hand and placed it on her clitoris, lifting her head from her sucking long enough to say, “Rub yourself. Go on.”

Ashley did and in a moment delicious waves of satisfaction rolled through her again, even better than last night, her body jerking with spasms while Natalie continued to kiss and suck her cunt. When the tremors subsided, Ashley let out a sigh and gently stroked Natalie’s head. Natalie then began a series of soft kisses, starting from Ashley’s engorged labia and working up her abdomen to her belly button, to her breasts and her nipples and now to her throat.

Ashley rolled onto her side and held Natalie’s face in her hands, she then kissed her and Natalie responded warmly, lovingly. Ashley could not believe how…. glorious, she felt. “You like doing this, don’t you?” she asked.

Natalie did not hesitate at all in her response. “Yes. I…love it actually.” She kissed one of Ashley’s hands as she waited for the next comment.

“So this isn’t really a torment to you?” Ashley continued.

Natalie did pause here for a moment. “No…and, yes,” was the quiet reply this time.


Monday morning and the three girls, now dressed the same in their school uniforms, were sitting in the back of Ashley’s father’s town car being driven to Windsor Academy for Girls. They had the tinted visor closed between them and the driver as Gwyneth was seated between Ashley and Samantha and her skirt was up to her waist and her legs spread.

“We don’t want our little slave to forget her place now,” Ashley crooned into Gwyneth’s ear as she roughly squeezed her crotch.

“Yeah,” Samantha added, running her tongue up the side of Gwyneth’s face, “just ‘cause we’re lettin’ you be with us, just keep remembering who owns your ass.” She paused for effect, “Well, Slut; who does?”

Gwyneth spoke quietly. She appreciated wearing regular clothes and being out of her mistress’s grasp, even if only for a few hours. “You do, Mistress Samantha.” And accepted Samantha’s tongue as it was shoved into her mouth.

Ashley had decided that Natalie and Gwyneth could return to their own home last night; everybody could use a break. They had subjected their former friend to quite a bit of abuse; and they had time. Lots of time.

And Ashley had more targets for her slave farm; and there was no way she could have them all around her. Her plan was to have the Roths live at home but come immediately to her when called; and use them mostly on

the weekends.

She already had something special planned for Gwyneth next Friday night, so a few free days was just fine. Just fine, she thought sitting back and looking out the window; they would be at school in a few minutes.


Alexander Hillman was looking at his computer screen, going over the information ‘Kat’ Chung had sent him. She didn’t know why he wanted to meet with Denise Allen, only Zoe knew that, but she prepared info efficiently because that was what she did. He switched files to what Zoe’s people had found, and looked again with interest at the thirty or so photos there. Yes, Denise would work. Just fine.

Closing his laptop, Alexander reflected back on the previous evening. Arriving in New York early enough on Sunday he had been able to meet his wife for a rare dinner together….

“You’re looking lovely as ever, my sweet.”

“Thank you, Alexander (she always called him that, never Alex. No one called him Alex.) You’re looking debonair. The Mediterranean must agree with you.”

They both smiled warmly. Although they lived apart, there was no animosity; just separate lives. After some idle chit chat, news about Beacon Hill, what Christina was currently up to, etc., he brought forward the topic.

“And Ashley?”

Christina pondered, then sipped her expensive Cabernet. “Ashley is…Ashley.”

Alexander smiled at the enigmatic reply. “You’ve left her on her own?”

Christina looked at him, her face was calm. Ashley had

never affected her like she had him. “I felt it best, otherwise we would just be knocking heads. She needs her own space, I would just be interfering.”

They then spoke briefly about Ashley’s upcoming graduation; Windsor Girls’ Academy was known for putting on quite the celebration; but, not surprising, Ashley had not mentioned anything thus far.

After a silence, Christina spoke, “I see business is, spectacular as usual.”

We-lll,” Alexander responded, diplomatically, “there are always ebbs and flows; what are the Chinese up to, for instance? Oil is so…political, it messes with everything. But, still, can’t complain. We have profits all round; the second quarter bonuses will be quite something.” He looked and saw her smiling at him, ”And you are doing much; I see you on the Internet every few days opening this or announcing that.”

She smiled. Alexander sipped his soda water and lime (he drank no alcohol) and then reached out to stroke Christina’s hand, “I do value, what we…have. I wish this to, remain, as it is.”

She stroked his large, tanned hand in response, “As do I. I am Mrs. Alexander Hillman and delighted to be so.”

They both drank. Christina arranged a napkin on the table and moved the salt cellar over an inch. “You’re still involved with your young, ladies?”

“Yes, quite. Always amazed at how many beautiful, young women like…an opportunity.”

“Especially when they are tall and blonde.” Christina smiled.

“Yes. Absolutely. Recently in London…”

“Saw the note from Kat that you were there…”

“Right. She, Zoe I mean, not Kat, found these amazing girls, two actually, could have been sisters. Incredible, really.” He paused and glanced at her, ”And you still have your…interests?”

“Of course.” She smiled again.

“Anything worth…sharing?” His blue eyes held her, before he glanced away as a server came with desserts.

Christina continued again when the server left. “I had a young fellow last week after the opening of the hospital wing, you know. Anyway, he had helped with the announcements and such. After all the speeches and packing up, there was this little storage room, just behind the main office and I took him in there.

I thought he was going to pass out when I unzipped him. Lovely body, almost no hair. Not all muscled like these Neanderthals one sees. Very sweet actually. He sent me roses the next day.” She smiled. “Can you imagine?”

“I can,” Alexander commented and held up his glass, “To pleasure.”

“To pleasure,” Christina replied, clinking her glass to his.

And they sat. Two attractive, well-groomed human beings, wearing the best that money could buy, here in one of New York’s most exquisite restaurants. The coffee arrived, and they drank.

So perfectly matched.

Alexander now picked up his briefcase; time to head to his meeting with the young and enchanting Denise Allen.


‘The Three Bitches’ were walking down the hall, side by side. All looked attractive today; Ashley was almost radiant. Despite the gossip and the sniggering, virtually every girl they passed in the hall would have leapt at the request if any of the three had asked them to join them.

For Gwyneth, this day was still surreal. Outwardly normal as usual but of course not normal at all. Samantha had directed her to meet in a washroom just before lunch break and had fingered her aggressively, making her stand with her skirt up and panties down by the sinks; Gwyneth terrified that at any second someone would come in. Then the three had had lunch together as usual.

Pauline and Ashley had been able to have a brief encounter in another washroom where they sucked and groped each other wildly, stopping when they heard footsteps approaching.

“Tomorrow,” Ashley emphasized.

“Tomorrow.” Pauline had repeated, quickly kissing Ashley as they hurried out.

Meanwhile, a beginning of a plan was forming in Gwyneth’s mind. As she regarded the girls scurrying this way and that to class, she thought that, maybe, if she found her…mistresses, another slave, she might be freed. She studied the girls as they hurried by. Who?


Denise Allen sat nervously in the office she shared with her assistant. The assistant was actually shared between four junior executives, but her office was with Denise as she had the larger space. The clock was inching toward the appointment time and now she wondered if she should go to the corner office, kept for Mr. Hillman and his infrequent visits, or simply wait here to be summoned. She twisted her hands anxiously.

Alexander Hillman had already arrived, and was sitting in the impressive space kept for him; it was neat and clean, the orders being clear; it was to be maintained as if he were present. He looked over his notes one last time and then called Franklin Ellins, the communication department’s head.

Like Denise Allen, Ellins was unclear why ‘the man’ wished to see a junior executive, but it was not his job to question. When his phone buzzed he jumped into action and in moments he had escorted the lovely junior executive to the door of power. He had forgotten how tall Mr. Hillman was as he looked up at him with the introductions.

Quickly however he was thanked and dismissed and the door closed. Denise followed Mr. Hillman to the corner of his office where a couch and chairs were arranged. Denise sat nervously on one armchair as Hillman sat opposite her. She wasn’t sure why her heart was pounding away like it was; meeting her boss, one of the richest men in the world; the fact that he was incredibly attractive to her or the fact she was wearing underwear that she would never wear but did because she had been told to? Whatever, she had trouble looking directly at the imposing figure sitting just across from her.

“So Denise. It is good to finally meet you.” Hillman began and Denise felt a tremor; his voice was compelling and stirred a response within her, which she was trying hard to ignore, while at the same time feeling uncomfortable as her thong panties rode up into her vagina.

“Thank you, Mr. Hillman. It is a pleasure to meet you.” Denise replied as calmly as she could. Hillman sat, appraising her in silence until she began to feel more uncomfortable and unable to meet his steady gaze.

“I imagine you are not sure why I have asked to meet?” He stated simply. She nodded her head, and was going to say something, but he continued. “I am the reason you are here, in New York. I wished you to be placed in this position.” He stated again, and she began to feel confusion. Why would he, the owner and CEO of multiple large companies know of or care about a young assistant living in Cleveland? Her thoughts were interrupted as he began again. “You came to my attention and I saw a place for you, and now you are a junior executive assistant at The Hillman Group. I trust you like your job?”

“Yes, sir, um, Mr. Hillman. I; I love my job.”

He smiled; the smile had warmth. “I am glad, because you will have some choices, so it is good that some things are clear. I see, possibilities for you with my company. But I also have…concerns.”

Denise looked up now with some alarm. Concerns? About her? What had she done?

As if reading her mind, he spoke, “The concerns are not about you and your work, they are…more personal; I am concerned with your engagement, at least, with the person you are engaged to.”

This was a shock; Denise was taken totally by surprise. Her engagement, and Jason; what could be his concern?

Over the next twelve minutes, stopping occasionally to remind her not to ask questions, Alexander Hillman laid out his concerns; and several things were evident. The most significant, certainly to Denise, was that Hillman had the resources to find out pretty much anything about anybody. He had all her financial information including credit card purchases over the last year. He also had Jason’s, very pathetic she was forced to admit, financials.

Hillman then showed her a paper; on it were the photos and names of fifteen people. “These are all junior executives working for companies here in New York. Beside their names are their salaries. What do you notice?” he asked.

What Denise noticed was what he wanted her to notice, all of them earned less than her $152,000 yearly salary. Denise knew she was well paid. It was the amount she was initially offered with a small raise each of the two years she had been here. She hadn’t demanded this; was very happy with it, but seeing the others’ salaries made her uneasy.

“You earn this partly because I see potential in you. But every one of these people would and could do your job. Just something for you to think of as we move forward.” She regarded him cautiously.

Hillman then pointed out that she had made a nice down payment on her Midtown condo and had equity building in it, currently valued at $1.3 million. Her fiancé currently rented a main floor apartment. She drove a one-year-old Ford Expedition; his vehicle was twelve years old and on its last legs. And so it went.

Finally, Hillman took out another paper; this one contained information on the insurance firm Jason worked for; it showed how in the nine years he had been with them, he was actually now on a downward employment slide, going backwards pay and opportunity-wise.

“Why are you doing this?” She finally, quietly, asked.

Hillman regarded her. “I would prefer to explain that over dinner.” He then tossed Denise her cell.

“You have my ph…?”

He held up his hand, “No questions; it is easier. Now, call…Jason, and tell him something important has come up at work and you can’t see him tonight. You’ll call him later.”

Now she studied him, nervously but with more determination, “Or…?”

Hillman set his jaw. He looked every inch the CEO of a large company, “Or, take that box over there and gather up your possessions and we part ways.”

She looked down, clasping and unclasping her fingers, “Just…like that?”

He sighed. “Just like that.”

“And what of my…potential?”

“You will have thrown it all away; but that is what

you will be doing with this…marriage. So, better sooner than later.”

Her heart was pounding again. She began to feel nauseous. She didn’t want to leave this job. She did not want to. She had had doubts about Jason, which she had managed to rationalize; but having it all laid out was impossible to ignore. Her own mother had pretty much raised the same issues two months ago when she announced the engagement. She twisted the ring on her left hand.

“Oh, one final thing Denise. I would have that ring appraised by someone you trust. It is artificial; a good fake; but a fake none-the-less. Trust me.”

Denise just stared at him. Her hand shook slightly, but she picked up her phone and called Jason; got his voice mail and left a message. Ten minutes later, she and Hillman left through a private exit at the back of his office, but instead of heading down the stairs (they were on the building’s top floor) they went up. On the roof Alexander Hillman’s helicopter was waiting.


Gwyneth was on all fours, naked, in Ashley’s bedroom. Samantha had her feet resting on ‘her slave’s’ back. Ashley had finally worked up her courage and gone to a sex shop after school today; in her car, she wouldn’t have her driver take her there, not even she was that outrageous. She had returned with a number of toys for their pets, which she and Samantha took delight in sharing, one at a time, with Gwyneth, who simply knelt and accepted it in a daze.

Tonight the two mistresses had decided to leave ‘Mommy-slave’ at home and torment ‘Gwenny’. They had inserted a butt plug into Gwyneth’s ass and it was visible as she held her kneeling position. Samantha now produced a small purple dildo; shaped like a small rocket ship, and pushed it into Gwyneth’s mouth, forcing her to suck it. When she pulled it out she remarked nonchalantly,

“We’re going to fuck your ass with this, soon.”

Both Ashley and Samantha were surprised to find that Gwyneth was a virgin. This presented a problem, but, they agreed, also an opportunity. They could be the ones to take her virginity; wouldn’t that be just too ‘cray’, as Samantha said?

“No, cray-cray,” Ashley mocked with a smirk.

“Yeah, like; f’n crazy-town cray, cray.” Samantha added.

Ashley regarded her wearily. “Shut up.”


A limo met the helicopter and took them to the restaurant, one of New York’s finest it went without saying, with a splendid harbor view, including the Statue of Liberty. Hillman and Denise were escorted by the manager himself to the premier table overlooking the channel.

Once Denise had ordered, Hillman suggested a wine; even though he didn’t drink wine, he still knew wine. During the meal Denise was encouraged to tell Hillman all about herself, and most of the way through her second glass, as the coffee (him) and hot chocolate (her) arrived, Denise was relating more personal things, like her intense and emotional first serious boyfriend and how she had pretty much avoided ‘love’ since then, until Jason.

Jason had been thoughtful and attentive; it was still difficult for her to think it was all a game; and he had made her feel wanted and appreciated. Hillman listened throughout, nodding now and then or murmuring little assents.

Finally, all was finished up and the two sat looking across the table. “Well, I certainly enjoyed all of that, Denise. I am grateful that you accepted my offer and we have had a chance to get to know one another.”

Hillman remarked in his warm, rich voice.

“Well, I feel like I’ve totally monopolized the conversation. You’ve let me yak and yak. My God, I can’t remember the last time I’ve talked so much, at least about myself.” Denise bubbled.

Hillman smiled. “And now it’s time to get you home.”

When the limo pulled up outside Denise’s condo building, she felt a little apprehension. Would he try to kiss her? Should she just let him (she was still engaged); would he want…to come in??!

Hillman however simply said, “Now my dear, you are at a crossroad in your life. Tonight is an important night for you, because what you decide to do will have impact for the rest.”

She began to speak but he hushed her with a finger to her lips (the first time he had actually touched her all evening). “I am leaving for France on Wednesday morning. My villa there, but I have business there as well and the need of a communication’s person. I would like it to be you, and to have you come with me. It would be four or five days in the south of France.

So once again I will give you a choice that is simple, if not easy. End this foolish engagement and accept this task I offer, or move on with your life; to a new job and other challenges. If you wish to be part of what I have suggested, simply inform my assistant, you have her number, and she will arrange to have you picked up. Our company jet leaves JFK at 11:00 AM. So, there you have it.” Hillman pressed a button and the dividing glass slid over so the driver could be seen. He got out and opened Denise’s door.

“Good night, my dear.” Hillman squeezed her hand gently and indicated she should leave. Denise stood for a moment on the sidewalk, watching the big, black car move away until it was lost in the traffic. She turned and made her way to her front door, her thoughts in turmoil. (End of Chapter 03)

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A Conspiracy of Bitches By LongDarkRoad Chapter One Arrogance In All I Do

When Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr. called the Massachusetts State House in Boston “the hub of the solar system,” he was poking fun at the pretensions of the city’s high and mighty.


Chapter 01 Arrogance in All I Do

To some, Boston is the hub of the universe, from Brookline to the Back Bay, from Cambridge to Andover; its culture, its importance in American history, marks it as a place of importance.

For many of the inhabitants of Beacon Hill, in their splendid homes and privileged lives this was so, none more so than Ashley Hillman, of the Hillmans, who, when she thought of the world, did so always with herself as the center.

She was lying now, naked save for a tiny thong nestled against the tight, pink, shaved lips of her mons pubis, on the bed in her spacious bedroom, windows overlooking the lawns of the sprawling family home, set in the splendor of this exclusive estate area.

As she lay, a black woman, also mostly naked except for ‘decorative clothing’; Ashley being very impressed with herself for finding some authentic ‘Nubian’ wear, as well as having an actual Egyptian palm fan flown in from Africa, for her ‘slave’; was solemnly fanning her.

The black woman, Mandy (not her given name) was not really Nubian, although her family had emigrated from Egypt sixteen years earlier. They, mother and daughter, had been assisted by one of the Hillman’s many charitable organizations, with Mandy (closest they bothered to come to her actual name) working as a house servant for the family from the time she was twelve.

When Mandy turned eighteen, she became the nanny, for want of a better word, for young Ashley Hillman, only child of Christina and Alexander Hillman, looking after the child’s….needs. In time, and definitely in the last two years, those ‘needs’ had changed; as had Ashley’s attitude and demands.

The problem for someone like Mandy was control. She had been alarmed to find out several years earlier that she possessed no formal documents of her own; the Hillman’s held them, and had power and control over her. To her, with limited resources, she had found no way of challenging this.

“You’d like it, back in Syria, or wherever.” Ashley had smirked at her a year ago. And then Ashley had manipulated Mandy into removing some of her mother’s jewelery ‘for repair’, but on the video it looked much more like Mandy was stealing it, which is how Ashley had arranged it and how the Hillmans would be able to spin it, if they chose.

And so Ashley had gradually tightened her grip on Mandy, and with Ashley’s parents now away, in Europe and elsewhere, for extended stretches and Ashley reaching the age of consent, she had become master and Mandy had become slave; although so far it was mostly just role-playing.

So Mandy now stood; sullen but obedient, a leather harness holding her heavy breasts (‘udders’, Ashley called them), a golden sash around her waist and dangling in front of her shaven (Ashley’s demand) pubic area (‘I can’t believe how hairy you are’, Ashley had commented, ‘like some kind of fucking bear or something’), golden sandals on her feet, a gold band around her head.

The phone rang; the land line. Mandy looked at Ashley for direction; the wrong decision could bring punishment. Slowly, as if it were difficult, Ashley opened her striking blue eyes and stared at her ‘servant’. “Well, answer it….Jemima.”

“Hillman residence.” Mandy handed the phone over.

“Yes?” In contrast to her nature, Ashley’s speaking voice, when it wasn’t being used to cut someone down, was warm and sultry.

“You’d be good at phone sex.” Her friend Samantha Knight had once commented, to which Ashley simply looked at her, in that way she had, replying “I’m not even happy to talk to people I know, ‘Sammy’ (she used Sammy when she wanted to make a point).”

Samantha however just laughed. The two young women were well matched, with Ashley a towering five-ten and Samantha just a couple of inches shorter; Ashley’s long, blonde (natural, she loved to point out, the soft, golden pubic hair witness to that, before she shaved it) was thick and shining; Samantha’s long hair was light brown; which she darkened; still, it too was thick, shining and luxuriant.

Both young women had perfect faces and more perfect bodies, one of the reasons so many disliked them. ‘Why do fucking self-centered bitches get to have so much?’ came to many minds. But it didn’t end with their physical attributes. If they had been poor (or even average) their looks alone would have opened doors for them. But that was not necessary; their families were both wealthy, powerful and influential.

The girls had been catered to since, forever. They had had their lovely asses kissed by so many since they were little, that it was a way of life for them. They were not grateful for the attention, even devotion, lavished on them. It was the way of their world.

It was Samantha who was now calling. “I tried your cell, Ash.” Samantha began.

“Yeah, hmmm. Guess I didn’t hear it. I’ll have to send my….maid, here to go look for it; but at the moment she’s….busy.” Ashley smiled at her own joke while Mandy concentrated on fanning steadily and not looking at her employer.

Abruptly, Ashley held her left foot up to Mandy’s face,

so that it rested against the woman’s nose and lips. Mandy stopped her task.

“Go find my phone.”

“Yes, Miss.” Mandy replied, heading off. Since it was early, she and Ashley were the only two in the house. Anita the cook arrived at four-thirty, Reyes the gardener and his staff of three were here dawn to dusk but never ventured into the actual house; Joshua Reyes would come to the rear door and ring. Johnson, the (female) chauffeur had a little lodge to stay in if needed, but she was busy maintaining the family’s nine vehicles and was usually in the large garage, when she wasn’t hauling Ashley around.

Katalina (‘Kat’) Chung, the intense and efficient assistant to Alexander Hillman, the woman who was in charge in his frequent absences, had her own office not far away but always called ahead of any visit. So Mandy had gotten quite used to parading around the large mansion nearly naked.

“So, Sam; you didn’t call me to tell me you had called me….”

“No, Ashley Bitch; just wondered what you’re doing; do you want any company?” It was Saturday, so the girls had some time.

“Well, I do have one of my, ummm, helpers coming over….”

“You still have Pauline doing your assignments, Ash?”

“Well, duh; someone has to do them and it’s not me. How the fuck do you manage?”

“Oh for Christ sakes, Ashley; I actually do most of the work right there, you know, at school; that place we spend five hours or so every day.”

“Yeah, yeah; you’re starting to bore me Sam. You can come over if you want. We can hang out by my pool.” Although it was only April, the day was mild enough to be out, and Reyes and his staff had had the pool ready as soon as the snow was gone.

“That’s good, because right now I’m hanging out by my pool.”

“Mine’s better….”

“Fuck you.”

“See you.”

“Twenty minutes.”


Natalie Roth waited, aware of the time. She had been naked and on her knees for over thirty minutes, she was sure. ‘The Ladies’ were being very demanding today. The door opened and a stream of light came in, but Natalie remained in her position; on her knees, legs spread, hands resting palms down on her thighs; eyes down.

At forty-three, Natalie worked hard to keep her body in shape. And with all that was on her mind, she wondered how she had time for this; her ‘pastime’. Then she thought of the money and relaxed her body, waiting.

A woman came and stood beside her. The woman had tall, leather boots (black) on, and Natalie knew from experience, dark nylons clipped to a garter, with a tiny but expensive thong barely covering her vagina, with all of this under an expensive tailored skirt, topped by an Armani or similar quality blouse. The jacket, if there was one, would also be tailored and expensive. That’s the way these women were, and how Natalie had found herself among them was a long story, but here she was.

The standing woman looked for a while at the kneeling one; taking her time, enjoying this. Before her she saw a slim, dark-haired woman, with small tits highlighted by large and dark nipples, set against very large areolas that took up almost half the modest breast. The nipples, each pierced by a small, gold ring, were standing out and rigid, begging to be abused.

The slim form none-the-less swelled into pleasantly rounded hips that begged to be spanked. The tight abdomen sloped down to a completely shaven vagina that was remarkably adorned, for a woman in her forties. Since her husband, Bradley, no longer saw this area, and hadn’t for several years, Natalie had allowed various of her dominants to add markings and piercings.

The labia of her vagina were each about an index finger fat and adorned with two gold rings, top and bottom. A circular gold half-ring with bar-endings pierced the stubby clitoris. Some of the women enjoyed hanging weights from these rings; their purpose being not simply decorative. Perhaps today….

Above her slit was tattooed the words, “To Serve” in script font. On her back was a tattoo of a panther, turning, signifying to anyone who knew that she was available to members of the ‘B & D’ club, a group of white, wealthy, middle-aged women with sadistic tastes in sexual pleasure.

Natalie did not have a single mistress. With a daughter, a husband of sorts and a social standing, she could never commit to any regular submission. Instead, she was in the group’s data base, and available on a random basis by appointment. It had been several weeks since her last event, and today she felt the need, for both the submission and the money.

Gwyneth was home, and likely heading to Ashley or Samantha’s. Bradley was in Cleveland trying desperately, as usual, to secure a cash flow, so she had some time on her own.

The standing woman in her imposing boots reached for one of Natalie’s breasts, squeezing the nipple hard enough to make Natalie wince, and then lifting up on the nipple ring. The woman then grabbed the breast and squeezed it hard, forcing a moan from Natalie’s lips.

Next, Natalie’s hair was grabbed by a handful in the woman’s surprisingly strong grip, and her head was forced down to the cement floor. The woman then began to slap Natalie’s ass, not stopping until both cheeks were bright red and tears ran down Natalie’s face.

“What do you say, Slut?” The woman demanded, pulling Natalie’s face up.

“Thank you, Mistress Rebecca.”

“Very good. You may clean my boots.”

The aroma of fresh leather was exhilarating to her, as Natalie moved her face over to the boots and began to lovingly run her tongue up from the base to the top, by the knee.

The woman reached down and stroked Natalie’s dark, auburn head, like one would a spaniel, murmuring. “That is a good girl.”


Ashley and Samantha lay on the lounge chairs placed on the brick patio that separated the back of the house from the pool. Although a hedge and a wall provided some privacy from the rest of the back lawns, Ashley was aware of the gardening crew. She had issued a warning to Reyes that if she ever caught one of his staff looking at her while she was on the patio, they would be fired or perhaps even arrested right then, and his job (which he had held for sixteen years) would be over.

Reyes believed this girl, who he feared, and had from the time she was able to speak and give orders, so he was obsessive about keeping his crew away whenever the now stunningly beautiful young woman came to the pool.

For their part, the girls were aware of their sexual attractiveness in an off-handed way; they flaunted it as they flaunted everything; without a lot of thought. The ‘swim wear’ they were currently adorned with amounted to mere strips of material covering the absolute barest minimum of their lovely bodies, with nipples and labia still visible if one was close enough.

Suddenly Ashley spoke, “Shit, I forgot about Pauline!” Putting on her robe, she strode barefoot across the patio, through the sliding glass doors and into the house. She glanced at the clock as she made her way to the front; she could hear Mandy vacuuming upstairs; Pauline would soon arrive, if she wasn’t already early.

This arrangement they had worked well for her. Pauline Dudas did what Ashley considered ‘grunt work’; the actual physical doing of homework. It needed to be done on Ashley’s computer and from her home, so her I.P. address would be recorded. But after the assignment was complete and before Pauline left, Ashley always grilled her on specifics. It was here that Pauline found out something that many would be unaware of; Ashley was very intelligent.

Her questions were always precise and probing; Ashley had the ability to focus intensely when needed and right where it worked best. She didn’t mess around, she didn’t waste time; she was practical and efficient. It was because she didn’t really care about….others, that people assumed she was clueless. That, Pauline believed, was a mistake.

Ashely watched as the tall, athletic girl exited her mother’s car and began walking toward the house. At Windsor Academy for Girls, there was only one other girl and only one teacher who were taller than Ashley, but Pauline was close. She was one of a group of girls the resident girls sarcastically called, ’The Barbarians’; girls from outside the exclusive area whose families could never afford a school like Windsor but who had been selected by a support society, created interestingly enough by Jennifer Knight and Christina Hillman, Samantha and Ashley’s mothers, for the purpose of providing the finances to cover the tuition, etc. at Windsor. Each year fifteen girls were awarded this support, and four years ago one of these girls was Pauline.

Despite her standing as an outsider, her incredible athletic prowess (team mates called her ‘The Beast’) and academic ability allowed her more acceptance than the other ‘Barbarians’. It was rumored that she would receive a volleyball scholarship this year to a major college. For now, she worked at maintaining one of the highest academic standings among the graduating class.

Today, her long brown hair was tied back in a ponytail and she was dressed casually in a T-shirt and jeans, her backpack over one shoulder. Before she could ring, Ashley had opened the door.

“Good. On time as usual. Let’s go.” And with no further greeting, Ashley led the way to the dining room table in the impressive room where the Hillmans entertained dinner guests; a table that comfortably seated twenty;  and turned on her laptop that was already sitting in place.

“Got everything?” Ashley queried.

Pauline, who was quite used to Ashley’s direct manner, simply smiled and said, “Yes” before settling in front of the screen; Ashley departing toward the sliding doors of the patio.

“Hey,” Samantha responded with Ashley’s return, “So, do you think your perv Mexicans are spying us?” she asked in reference to the grounds crew.

“I know their, like, favorite spots; and I’ve been watching; not seen anything yet.”

“We should take off these strips and give them a show.” Samantha offered, tugging the tiny garment lying across her crotch.

Ashley laughed; and it was odd, that while her speaking voice was sultry, even seductive, her laugh was sort of a ‘braying’ sound.

“You know you sound like a donkey when you do that?” Samantha pointed out.

“Thanks, pardna. Like I care.”

They sat quietly, letting the early spring sun warm them. Ashley broke the silence. “We should do something with dear Gwenny”, referring to the third member of their group, Gwyneth Roth.

Samantha was taken aback; this had never been discussed. “Whaddya mean?” She was sincerely puzzled.

Ashley paused, looking, uncharacteristic for her, thoughtful. But this was something she had been thinking about a lot.

Ashley Hillman, precocious child, had never been overly curious about sex, her own sexuality or others. Even with sexual references all around her as she grew, and her obvious sexual burgeoning the last two years, she had kept cool with things like masturbation and ‘doin’ the deed’; even just kissing and hand work with boys were not a big deal for her.

But like any popular or elite teen, Ashley knew what was needed to stay on top of things; and sex was always big. A year ago she had seduced the son of one of her father’s partners, losing her virginity right on her back lawn, behind the pool.

The experience had been so completely ‘drowsy’ (she related to Samantha) that she was convinced either there was something wrong with her; or the guy; or over-hyped sex itself.

The next day she began researching ‘sex’ on the web; and for Ashley, that was exactly how she approached it; unemotional but obsessive. She was amazed at what one could find, and she found everything, from women sucking horse’s cocks to people pissing in each others’ mouths. From bondage and ‘teen spanking’, to head-cam mounted camera views of blow-jobs. And of course, lots and lots (and lots) of fucking, in all the combinations.

Without any plan, just looking and reacting, in time Ashley found that most of what was there became boring, to her anyway, quickly. The ‘actors’ were predictable, the sequence of events was predictable, things looked fake, all of that.

But every now and then a scene or someone would appear that looked for real, and the ones that got Ashley going, that had her actually touching her pussy, were the ones involving domination. Especially when the characters looked average and not models; and what they were doing seemed genuine.

Ashley had begun experimenting with Mandy, but because of their long relationship she was reluctant (even if Mandy didn’t feel that way) to really explore ‘things’. Ashley wanted others; she wanted to dominate them, humiliate them, and then have sex with them the way she wanted it. On her terms, with her in complete control. She was determined the lousy first experience she had was a one-off, and her next experiences would be what she desired; someone serving her needs with no say in the matter.

She had been planning her ‘dom list’ as she liked to call it, for a while now. On it was a teacher, Ms. Woodward; her homework-helper, Pauline; and her ‘special project’, Gwyneth Roth, her and Samantha’s long-time ‘friend’, the third ‘Bitch of Windsor’.

Ashley secretly believed, not even sharing this as yet with Samantha, that Gwyneth didn’t really belong in the world of Beacon Hill; her world. Gwyneth’s parents for example weren’t wealthy, far from it in fact; Ashley had wanted to point that out to Gwenny for a long time; but it needed to be….the right time.

Now that time had come, and Ashley would confront Gwyneth with her real status in life and then use her as she wished; starting today.


Mary Ellen Scanlon, Head Mistress at Windsor Academy for Girls, New England these last twelve years, studied her lists. She liked doing certain ‘school things’ in the quiet of her lovely home. No demanding parents on the phone, no timid teachers emotionally distraught with the attitude of their charges. She had often mused to herself that the school motto should really be: ‘Arrogance In All I Do’, but she wisely kept that to herself. The board of governors would not be amused.

She sipped her chamomile tea, and then made a note beside the name of one of her graduating class. Her eyes wandered down the page, coming to rest on Ashley Hillman. My God, that was one girl she would not be sad to see the last of, although her parents financial support was incredible; hopefully they would continue to give, once the dear Ashley became an ex-student.

Ummmn, Mary Ellen liked the sound of that. Her and her bitch friend Samantha, and the third girl, Gwyneth Roth, although she was never anywhere near as intimidating or challenging.

Yes, The Three Bitches, a Macbeth reference, was widely applied to these girls; although never, ever to their very pretty faces. No, just behind their backs and in washrooms and staff rooms.

Mary Ellen Scanlon sipped some more tea.


Natalie Roth let the water from the over-sized shower head cascade down on her in driving streams. The water was hot and she let it pound against her skin. The session with the women had been hard and rough, as she had agreed to, and she needed to wash away the bodily fluids left on her. She had not been allowed to clean herself at all once she had been handed her envelope of cash; she was hustled out the door.

Coming naked from the shower she walked to her closet

and took out a silk robe, draping it untied around her. She then picked up the envelope and counted the money again; $1500. Money that she so needed, that Bradley would not have access to, that would pay for things like the lights. The fucking electrical bill!!

She looked at herself in the mirror, and then opened a drawer and took out two objects; they were weights, and she hung them off the top two of her labia rings, so they stretched her vagina down.

She swayed her hips so the weights swung back and forth; she liked the pull, the discomfort. She was looking around for something else when she heard her daughter Gwyneth’s door close. Closing her robe she went to the hallway. “Gwen, dear, where are you off to?”

“Oh, hi Mom; just going to Ashley’s in a little while. Just getting some things.”

“Have you eaten anything, dear?”

“Just doin’ that, Mom. Thanks.”

Natalie returned to her room and rummaged in a drawer, finding the object, she sat down in front of her mirror, spreading her legs. She pulled the weights so her labia stretched out, showing her pink inner layers. Licking the object she held, and then sucking it thoroughly, she leaned back and forced the plug into her anus.

“There,” she said to herself. “I like that.”


Mary Ellen closed up her reports and walked to the sink to rinse her cup. For some reason her mind went back to Hillman, Knight and Roth. Prominent families, two of them elite in fact; was there a wealthier man connected to Windsor than Alexander Hillman? She thought not.

Yet, it was in the halls of power that decisions were

made that affected people like Mary Ellen, the managers. And these three girls were certainly products of that. The scheming. The control. The alliances; the attacks and the victories. The self-centered perspective of the powerful. That was the real substance of the Windsor world.

She knew Ashley Hillman, Samantha Knight and Gwyneth Roth plotted how to control others and the world around them; had for years.

Others might call them The Three Bitches. For Mary Ellen it was deeper than that; to her they were symbolic of the world she inhabited; they were A Conspiracy of Bitches.

(End of Chapter 01)

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A Conspiracy of Bitches By LongDarkRoad Chapter Two Reason Making No Resistance

Chapter 02 Reason Making no Resistance

Alexander George Hillman sat looking at the incredible blue/green of the Mediterranean, a lime and soda on the table by his hand. The sky today in the early spring was remarkably blue; it wasn’t always, but it was today, and a breeze blew the scent of the water to those entitled few living in their villas on the Cote d’Azur.

Hillman’s grandfather had begun the process of creating the family wealth back in the early part of the twentieth century, with oil and then armaments. His father, George Armstrong Hillman had carried on, expanding into plastics and then aeronautics. When Alexander became involved, the five hundred million dollar company father George had inherited had become a two billion dollar enterprise.

Alexander then led the charge into technology, including being among the first established companies to invest in social media. Today, Hillman’s empire was anchored by four main companies, the main one being The Hillman Group of New York, and had a net value of somewhere close to five billion. Hillman personally was among Forbes four hundred (although he was able to keep his name off the list annually because of his influence) and had been most of his adult life.

Now forty-eight, he was an imposing figure, standing well over six feet tall with a mass of now greying hair, penetrating steel-blue eyes, a rich, sonorous voice and a commanding presence. Many friends over the years had tried without success to push him into politics (presidential material they all murmured) but Hillman knew that he had far more power where he sat, behind the ‘throne’ with a large bag of cash. He supported both parties generously, everyone knew that; his influence spread and he spread his influence.

He now spent most of his time in the south of France. He enjoyed this part of the world; the climate, the spectacular views, the European ambience. But the real reason Hillman spent so much time abroad was currently lounging almost naked by the pool of their Boston home.

Alexander Hillman had known, from the time daughter Ashley began to develop from a child into a woman, that he needed to get away from her. His sexual fantasies of her were so overpowering that reason would have provided no resistance. He could be ashamed all he wanted to be, and he had been; he could explain clearly to himself the disgust and vulgarity, but it didn’t matter. With each day, as Ashley became more a woman, and stunningly beautiful, he knew the day would come when he would lose control.

So he went away.

Christina Hillman, his wife, chose to run her foundations from their home in the Hamptons, and that was fine. They had had no sexual contact in years, but chose, out of loyalty, friendship and family, to stay married. Alexander was left to look after his sexual needs, always significant, on his own.

Recently in London he had had his personal assistant Zoe track down an escort that looked like Ashley; nineteen years old and not quite as tall, but remarkably similar. Hillman had spent an entire weekend at the luxurious Egerton House Hotel, fucking the girl relentlessly, to the point he had to pay her another five grand because of her bruises and torn anus.

But he had loved it, and decided he wasn’t going to deny himself anymore. The two lovely young women now kneeling by him on silk towels, both topless and wearing a tiny strip of cloth over their vulva, were barely eighteen. Both were tall and had long blonde hair. They could be sisters, but weren’t.

Both were now looking at Hillman, waiting for a signal. When he stroked their blonde heads, both unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. Taking turns sucking it and kissing each other, they pleasured him, their blonde heads shining in the sunlight.


Ashley came to stand beside Pauline, who appeared to be finishing up. She had decided today was the day to begin her plans, and to start with her ‘helper’.

“Just about done, Ashley.” Pauline announced, “Ok, let’s do the questions.”

Ashley asked her questions, listened, probed, made some notes on her computer and paused. Samantha was relaxing outside, knowing Ashley’s routine so she wouldn’t bother her. Mandy was laundering table coverings and had been told not to come into the dining room anyway.

Ashley moved to a chair against one wall and looked at Pauline. “Is there….anything else?” Pauline had a quizzical look on her face.

“Actually yes, Pauline. I need you to do something. Please stand.”

Pauline stood, still looking puzzled, “Yes?”

“I need to have you take your pants down.” Ashley said quietly but in a firm tone.

If Pauline had looked puzzled before, she looked dumfounded now. “Uh, I’m not sure I know….”

“Look Pauline, it’s simple. I want to spank your ass, but I want to look it over first. I will of course be paying you more for this extra….”

Pauline just stared. “I don’t think, I mean, this is….well, crazy and I….” she stopped, as if she’d reached a dead end.

Ashley spoke calmly, as if directing a child at some unpleasant but necessary task. “Consider, Pauline. You are up for a scholarship soon; but lots can go fucking wrong at times like, um this. I would like to help you, but I can also hurt you, girl. I think you know that, yeah? Sooooo, just cooperate with my little desire and we….both win. Cool?”

Pauline just stood, frozen. “You….um, wouldn’t do, but….I thought, uh, you liked me….” Pauline’s voice faded away and her eyes held sadness.

“Let it go, Paul-paul. Take this, um, opportunity, it is just the two of us here, right? Our little secret kinda. I like you. I do. A lot, actually.” There was silence in the room. “Now, pull those jeans down; or leave, and see what happens to your life. Oh, and your mom’s life, too. Don’t forget who the fuck she works for….”

Pauline wavered. “No, but Ashley, no, that’s not fair. You wouldn’t hurt my mom….” Pauline looked like she might actually cry.

Ashley came and stood beside the girl, gently running a finger down her face. “Life isn’t fair, Pauline, remember that.” Taking her by her shoulders, Ashley turned Pauline sideways, then placed her hands behind her head, and gently unzipped and pulled down her pants, and underpants. Pauline wore modest full whites.

Pauline now stood facing the wall, shaking sporadically, fingers laced behind her head, her naked ass now on display.

“Hmmm, this is lovely.” Ashley crooned, running a hand up one leg and squeezing Pauline’s round, athletic ass. She lowered Pauline down to a squatting positon, her hand still on her ass cheek, then she slapped, once, twice, three times; then ran a finger against Pauline’s outer pussy lips, stroking the long, dark pubic hair and gently pulling the labia. Ashley pulled Pauline’s pants and underwear off, gazing with interest at the long beautiful legs and buttocks.

Pauline was still shaking gently, but a high whine had escaped her closed lips. ‘Slap, slap, slap, slap’ slow and steady, Ashley began delivering her strokes, then ran her finger up the slit, noting how moist it had become.

“You like this,” she murmured into Pauline’s ear. Pauline shuddered, went to speak, but only, “UUAAhhh”, came out as Ashley had plunged a finger into the wet cunt. She turned Pauline’s face, and kissed her full on the mouth. The two young women hungrily sucked at each other’s lips and tongues, their arms now grasping and pulling their bodies together.

Ashley then slapped Pauline’s ass again, “Say you like it,” and began working her pussy once more.

“Uh. Oh, jeez. Ummm. Oh, yes, fuck. Yes, uh,uh I like it.” Pauline got that out as Ashley pumped two fingers hard into her cunt, before she withdrew her hand and stood. Pauline remained leaning on a chair, on her knees. She then looked up at Ashley with a look of longing now on her face.

“Please, Ashley, you can’t leave me, like this.”

Ashley didn’t respond; she was busy taking pictures with her cell phone. “Sit on the chair, and spread your legs.” As Pauline did that, Ashley took more photos.

“Please, Ashley, don’t do….”

“Hush, you need to just keep following directions; get on your left side.” Ashley then had Pauline hold her right leg up, taking several pictures of her pubic area exposed from that angle.

“Please Ashley….”

“Just two more and you can go. Drape those long legs over the chair arms. Now hold open your pussy lips.”

“Ashley….” Pauline moaned.

“Do it and you’re done.” Pauline complied and Ashley had some great shots showing all the brown and pink of Pauline’s fleshy folds. “Good. Ok, get dressed, we need

to get going.”

Pauline stood, looking shell-shocked. Ashley paused, then embraced the girl and they kissed again, warmly, like lovers, their tongues lingering over each other.

“We’ll see you Tuesday. I put a little something extra in your jeans.” Ashley whispered.

Pauline dressed quickly and got her backpack, then fished the two twenties from her pocket. Although she liked the money, it made her feel a little like a whore. She handed the money back to Ashley, looking up slightly at the attractive face, trying to read the expression.

“I don’t need that.” She said. “I’ll….do what you.… want.”

“Ok, that’s fine. But I may want….a lot.”

Pauline then stepped forward and put her arms around Ashley’s shoulders, planting a hard kiss on those full lips. Breaking apart, Pauline asked, “See you. Do I now call you….Mistress Ashley?”

“I like that.” Ashley murmured, aroused more than she would have thought by the words, and Pauline smiled shyly and left.

Ashley then hurried back to Samantha. Gwyneth would arrive soon and she wanted Samantha prepared. Her friend was just spreading some more sunscreen on herself as Ashley arrived, “Took you long enough. What were you guys doing?”

“I go through all the assignments with Pauline you know. Anyway, forget about that; about Gwenny.” So Ashley explained how the Roths were in deep trouble and that she (representing her father) had control over the financial support that was keeping the family in their home and the father’s company afloat. She planned to use that leverage to make Gwyneth into some sort of slave for her and Sam.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Samantha asked, her eyes big.

“Why wouldn’t I be? Haven’t you ever thought about having someone to….use as you wished?”

Samantha considered this. “I, um, we….can get people to do what we want most of the time, Ash. What’s with the slave thing? Oh, wait. Just wait. This is you doin’ your internet porn, right? Ha! I knew something would happen.”

“How’s that?”

“’Cause you are into that like crazy, man. Fuck. They say it gives people ideas.”

“Yeah.” Ashley drawled, “I have lots of my own ideas, thanks, j.t.s.” They were interrupted then by Gwyneth Roth, calling from the house.

“Let’s go in and see her, like, in there, not here. Just follow me, are we good?”

“Yeah, yeah. You da’ beech.” Samantha replied sarcastically, but Ashley was already on her way in. Gwyneth was standing and looking a little awkward; although she had hung around Ashley and Sam for many years, there had always been a restraint between them and her. It always made her a little uncertain of what was happening.

“Hey, hi. Wow, your suits are….bad-ass.” Gwyneth remarked looking at the tiny garments the girls were wearing, now minus their robes.

“For sure, did you bring a suit?” Ashley responded moving closer to Gwyneth.

“Yeah,” she replied, opening her backpack.

“C’mon in here,” Ashley said, leading the way into the spacious, family living room. Ashley sat on a loveseat, Samantha sitting beside her. There was a space in front of them and Ashley directed Gwyneth. “C’mon in here,

Gwenny; right here.”

Gwyneth came and stood, still looking uncertain. “This is weird guys, what’s up?”

“Change into your suit, Gwenny.” Ashley said, a small smile on her lips. Samantha was looking smug.

“Ooo-kaaay,” Gwyneth said turning to leave.

“No. Here.” Ashley was no longer smiling; her face was set and determined.

“Wh-What?” Gwyneth said, beginning to become alarmed.

Ashley stood and grabbed Gwyneth by her long red-blonde hair. “I said, change here. Now.”

Gwyneth was now looking frightened, “You’re-you’re ….scaring me, Ash. Owww!”

Ashley tugged a full handful of hair, “And don’t call me ‘Ash’; from now on, when it is just us three, I am Mistress Ashley and this is Mistress Samantha. You, are slave Gwenny. Beginning to get the picture? Now get changed.”

Tears were seeping out of the corners of Gwyneth’s eyes and her hands shook as she unbuttoned her blouse and then her shorts. Ashley took these, tossing them to Samantha. “C’mon. C’mon. We don’t have all day, bitch. I think you need your little ass whipped to get you moving.”

Slowly Gwyneth undid her bra and slid her panties down, crossing her arms and standing, then looking down and shaking as her underclothes were thrown to Samantha as well. Ashley now stood behind her and roughly pulled Gwyneth’s arms down to her sides before slapping her ass hard.

“UUUhh!” Gwyneth responded, tears still slowly leaking down her cheeks. Ashley reached around and grabbed the nipples of Gwyneth’s modest breasts and squeezed them causing a flinch; she then stroked the flesh gently.

“Stay!” she commanded before walking to a desk and returning with a pair of handcuffs with which she fastened Gwyneth’s wrists together behind her back.

“Have a turn, Sam,” Ashley called, turning her captive around. Sam walked leisurely over, liking this scene more by the minute. She reached out and grabbed both breasts, squeezing them hard, and then slapping them both at the same time with a quick downward strike. She did this several more times before gripping Gwyneth’s face in one hand. “Stop crying you stupid little worm, or we’ll really hurt you. Stop!”

Gwyneth jerked and looked fearfully at her ‘friend’. Samantha slowly licked Gwyneth’s lips, sucking them into her mouth, before opening Gwyneth’s mouth and allowing a gob of her saliva to fall into it. She then kissed her captive’s lips hard, whispering into Gwyneth’s ear, “Start kissing back or I’ll get nasty with your tits.”

Samantha noticed then that Ashley was on her cell phone. Who could she be calling?


Natalie Roth looked at her phone as it twittered; it was Gwyn.

“Hello, dear. What’s up?” There was a pause.

“Hello….Mrs. Roth. It’s Ashley.”

Natalie’s mind immediately went into panic mode; something had happened, but before she could ask, Ashley spoke again. “Calm yourself, nothing has happened, but I need you to listen.” The conversation lasted only a couple of minutes and when it was over, Natalie Roth took her keys and headed out, a grim look on her face.


Zoe Manatos finished packing the expensive leather suitcase and zipped it closed. Looking around Alexander Hillman’s room to double check, because the suitcase was his, not hers, she was satisfied that nothing important remained out. Now she would see to his personal bag.

As his private assistant, Zoe worked twenty-four hours seven days a week and was responsible for all Mr. Hillman’s appointments and meetings. She was in daily contact with his seven major Executive Assistants, as well as being the one, and the only one, who looked after his private requirements. Any woman he was involved with had gone through the ‘Zoe-process’, or been arranged directly by Zoe herself. And it was Zoe who kept watch on both Hillman’s wife and daughter.

For example, she saw to it that a monthly photo of Ashley was available to her and Mr. Hillman. Zoe was well aware of Hillman’s sexual attraction and worked hard to find girls that looked as much like Ashley as possible. And she didn’t judge.

If Hillman had suddenly decided to begin fornication with goats, Zoe would have immediately begun looking for the most attractive ones among them. Hillman depended upon her immensely, and despite this, or perhaps because of it, their relationship was completely business-like. Zoe did not think Hillman had ever so much as touched even her shoulder, let alone anything remotely sexual, in the four years she had worked for him.

Although Zoe Manatos maintained a very conservative appearance, she was not unattractive; Hillman simply did not see her as other than his right hand….person. The feeling was not the same for Zoe however, who would have died to have climbed naked into Hillman’s bed and given herself to him completely. All of her masturbation fantasies centered around him, but she was incredibly careful to maintain the business relationship that worked, and paid her, so well.

She did, however, sometimes take her frustrations out on the women he used. They were arranged through Zoe and, more importantly, paid through Zoe, so the girls were grateful to her and not about to complain if she took….advantage. For instance, as she now entered her room, the two girls who had been Hillman’s companions for the last few days were tied naked on her bed; one’s head at the headboard, the other’s at the foot. With Hillman leaving for New York in the morning, their services were no longer needed.

Both girls had panties, Zoe’s, stuffed in their mouths, and were lying restlessly in their bonds. Zoe ran a hand over the round ass of the one on top before bringing it down hard, causing the girl to jerk against her ropes.

“Soon, my lovelies, soon” she crooned to them, spreading gel on the top girl’s anus.


Ashley watched as Samantha aggressively kissed Gwyneth, gripping her reddish-blonde hair forcefully while stabbing her tongue into the unwilling girl’s mouth. She went and stood beside them, running her hand down Gwyneth’s buttocks until her finger rested against the girl’s tight, small, pink asshole. Gwyneth looked up at Ashley with foreboding in her eyes.

“Pl-Please, Ash….um, Mistress Ashley, please don’t.” Ashley brought the resting finger up to Gwyneth’s mouth and made her lick it and suck it, then returned it to rest against her asshole. Staring directly into Gwyneth’s eyes, Ashley slowly forced the finger into the tight opening as Gwyneth squirmed a little and looked ashamed, her face reddening like a beet.

Samantha had moved around behind and now commented, “That’s one tight butt-hole, Ash. We’re going to have to work on that.”

Ashley said nothing, just pulled out the intruding finger and brought it up to Gwyneth’s face, making her smell it. “Please, M-Mistress Ashley, please….” But it didn’t work, as Ashley forced the finger into Gwyneth’s mouth and made her lick it.

“Get used to it, Slave-Slut. This is just the beginning.” She whispered, licking the side of Gwyneth’s face; but just then the doorbell chimed.

Ashley sauntered to answer it, opening the door to Natalie Roth, who stood with a look on her face of both anger and concern. “Come in,” Ashley said, sweetly, and headed back to the living room, giving Natalie a good view of her ass with only the tiny strip of cloth nestled in her crack.

Natalie followed, and when she entered the room and saw Gwyneth, naked, Samantha with an arm around her, she stopped, her face now showing sadness and concern.

“So….Natalie; I have not said anything to sweet Gwenny here as I thought you should both hear the info; it, uh, I guess like, involves you both, so….”

“Mom, say something….help me,” Gwyneth pleaded.

But it was Ashley who responded, coming across and gripping Gwyneth’s face, then looking directly at Natalie Roth, who wavered as if she intended to intervene, but then stopped and looked down, defeated.

Ashley gave Gwyneth’s face one sharp slap and held up a finger; “Hush!” She then began, explaining quickly and succinctly how the Roths were bankrupt, not having a lot of money to begin with (which is why they didn’t belong here, in Beacon Hill) and losing it all in their company. And now, Ashley’s father held the deed to their home and was financially supporting their company; support, which if withdrawn, would cause their company to collapse and leave the Roths essentially homeless and facing debts of close to seven million.

Bottom line was, Ashley now had the authority to manage this debt, her father having agreed to her suggestion; she could call in the money owed and force the Roths from their home and business, or she could support them. They needed to decide, but her support would come with a price; their slavery. Both Natalie and Gwyneth had to agree to serve Ashley, without condition, or leave and prepare for financial ruin.

When Ashley finished, Samantha simply nodded her head, a large and wicked smile on her face, while both the Roths visibly sagged, like balloons with the air leaking out.

“What will it be, Natalie.” Ashley demanded, and Natalie Roth looked at her daughter with a look of immense sadness, but what choice did they have? She then looked at Ashley. “We will serve you, (she swallowed) Mistress Ashley….”

“Good. You really had no other choice but I liked hearing that. Now, remove your clothes and get on your knees.” When she was naked and kneeling, both Ashley and Samantha immediately noticed Natalie’s piercings. “Whoa, hold on slutties, we need to review this. On your feet, Mommy-Slut.”

Natalie stood, looking as uncomfortable and awkward as an adult woman can who is standing naked in front of her daughter’s friends, about to be examined.

“Hands behind your head and feet farther apart; let’s have a good look at the party going on down between your legs. Whoa, doggy; would you look at that!” Ashley crooned in her best Texas accent, pulling first one, then another of Natalie’s labia rings, before fondling the smaller nipple rings. “Hey Sam, I think we got ourselves a genuine skank here.” Ashley leaned her face in and smelled Natalie’s crotch as the woman closed her eyes.

“Ummmm” Ashley murmured, then slid a finger into Natalie’s slit. “The whore is wet as piss.” She stated, looking back at Samantha, a huge grin spreading on her lovely face.


Denise Allen nervously looked over her notes once again. As Junior Executive Assistant, Communications, The Hillman Group, she had no idea why Mr. Hillman, the Mr. Hillman, Mr. Alexander Hillman, himself, would be meeting with her in two days when he came to visit the head office here in New York.

“There has got to be lots of more senior people to meet with?” She had asked Executive Secretary Rita Grant, but no, the man had been clear; he would be meeting with Ms. Allen at 3:00 PM Monday. So she was spending Saturday afternoon getting her info in order but not really knowing why or if she was even on the right track.

Denise ran a delicate hand through her long blonde hair and stretched out her long legs. It was a mystery.

To her.


Ashley and Samantha sat on chairs in Ashley’s spacious bedroom. Mandy had been allowed to dress and was now downstairs doing her maid duties. Anita would be arriving any minute to begin dinner preparations and so the two girls had hauled their slaves upstairs to this room. Natalie was kneeling before Ashley and Gwyneth before Samantha; both Roths had their hands shackled behind them and their faces in the crotches of their ‘Mistresses’.

Natalie, who had done lots of this, was having no problems. Gwyneth however was struggling with her task, still upset that this was being inflicted on her. It wasn’t fair and she wanted to scream and pound her fists; but instead needed to be licking the vagina of someone who she had been a companion with up until an hour or so ago. Samantha’s comments to her were not helping as the girl was taking great delight in Gwyneth’s predicament.

“Ok, switch places, Slave-Sluts.” Ashley commanded, and the two Roths, mature and young, walked on their knees to their new assignment, their heads forced down into the new crotch the moment they arrived.

After a few minutes, Ashley lifted Gwyneth’s face, smiling down at her. This, she thought to herself, is too much. Too fucking much.

“Poor Gwenny.” Ashley purred, making a face. Gwyneth looked again like she would cry. Ashley scooted her hips down a little and spread her long legs over the arms of her chair. She reached down with both hands and pulled her asshole open as wide as possible. Looking hard into Gwyneth’s eyes she ordered, “Lick my asshole, Slave.”

Gwyneth, her face a mix of anger, distress and disgust, leaned forward and began to gently slide her tongue around the brown, puckered hole of her former friend.

(End of Chapter 02)