Sorority Auxiliary Bk 2, Ch 1: Thanksgiving Friday Part 1

[micheleFFS]

Book 2, Chapter 1: Thanksgiving Break

(Link to other sections of the story: http://www.milovana.com/forum/viewtopic ... 18&t=14319)

Frustrated and angry because I now had no real prospect of release from my hated cage, I packed for Thanksgiving. I considered running to a department store and spending a bit of my refund on male underwear, but I really didn’t have time.

I got to the airport in with time to spare. The security line for my flight wasn’t too bad. I settled back with a magazine. The flight and landing were routine. Mom and Dad greeted me with hugs and whisked me home. They asked all sorts of questions about school, and the dorm, and how I liked my classes.

The Dad asked a question I should have been better prepared for. “Jerry, have you met any girls there?”

Well, I’d met lots of girls, but I couldn’t tell him everything about that. “The place is full of beauties. They’ve got my head spinning.”

“I bet. I remember my own college days before I met your mother. Anyone special?”

“No.” I decided to say a bit more. “I have spent some time with three girls, Samantha, Veronica, and Marci, but I’m not sure how they feel about me. For that matter, I’m not always sure how I feel about them.”

Dad raises a surprised eyebrow. “Dating three girls? You have changed since you went to college. Good for you.” I knew they were afraid I’d be a nerd for life. I think they even wondered if I was gay.

“Well, I haven't actually gone on a date, we just hang out and do stuff.”

“Just good friends so far, I take it.”

“Yeah, like that. What’s happened in town while I was away?”

We had a light dinner and I went up to my room to unpack. Whew, I thought. I gotta be better prepared for questions like Dad’s from all sorts of folks. I shouldn’t need to lie. Bare minimum facts.

We were watching TV together when the home phone rang. Dad answered it and said it was for me.

“Hello, this is Jerry.”

“Hi Jerry, it’s Mrs. Moxley.”

My math teacher. “Hi, Mrs. Moxley, how are you? This is a surprise.”

“Well, I like to keep track of my better students. How are you doing at the university?”

“Pretty well, I think. Good grades, no warning letters. Final grades won’t be out until after the first of the year.”

“I never doubted that you’d do well. I’d like to ask you more about how you’re doing and the direction you’re taking in your studies. Can you come to lunch with me, say 11:30 on Friday? I know you’ll probably go partying with friends in the evening. I promise not to make you eat a left over turkey sandwich unless you want one.”

I was surprised and pleased. I’d known Mrs. Moxley since I was a kid; she was a friend of my parents. She’d encouraged me a lot and I liked her. “Sure, thanks. It’s nice of you to take such an interest in me.”
We confirmed her address and the time and rang off.

Thursday was the usual Thanksgiving rush and overeating. Several relatives came over and a single man who couldn’t be with his family. We had our own Uncle Owenish person, so by common consent, we avoided politics and religion. Sports. I pretended I knew what I was talking about, but I doubt I fooled any real fans.

In the morning, I helped Mom strip the turkey carcase and cut up vegetables to make the soup. Funny, she always makes me cut the onions.

After wiping away those inevitable tears, I walked over to Mrs. Moxley’s. My expectations were low. What would we talk about besides classes and possible future academic pursuits? However, I liked Mrs. Moxley and she’d always been helpful to me. She’d written glowing letters of recommendation for me to every school where I’d applied.

I knocked on the door and was admitted by Mr. Moxley, whom I slightly knew. Tall and thin, he sported gray temples and long hair that hung to the back of his neck.

“Come in, Jerry, Amanda’s expecting you.” He led me through the living room and the dining room to a small l den, where Mrs. Moxley sat on a recliner. Another recliner faced it at nearly a right angle. I noticed dents in the rug, indicating the normal position of the chair was parallel to Mrs. Moxley’s, where both faced the large TV mounted on the wall. A small table between the recliners held a coffee pot, two glasses, crackers and hummus.

Mr. Moxley indicated I should sit in the other recliner. “Sit here, Jerry, so you and Amanda can talk easily.” He smiled. “I’ll leave you two to it, dear, and go change.”

Mrs. Moxley stood to greet me and we shook hands. “It’s so nice to see you, Jerry. I’m eager to hear all about school.” She was in her mid-forties, still attractive with nearly white blonde hair and a well-preserved figure. She wore a blue skirt and a yellow blouse.

I'm glad to see you, too, Mrs. Moxley...”

“Call me Amanda. You’re an adult and we aren’t in school.”

“OK, Mrs....Amanda.” We both laughed.

She handed me a cup of coffee and we sat down. She asked me about school and classes, whether she’d prepared me for advanced placement college math or if it was hard for me.

“M...Amanda, I feel you got me primed perfectly. I knew everything they talked about for the first couple of weeks, all stuff you taught me. Thanks.”

She asked me about my ideas for future majors and raised an eyebrow at my answer. “Software design and electrical engineering? How very ambitious. Still, if anyone can do it, you can. Smart and tenacious, that’s you.”

“Thanks.” I was a little embarrassed.

“I don’t mind telling you now, Jerry, that you were one of my favorite students. Ever. A real success story I’m proud of.”

“Well, thanks, but I haven’t done anything yet — just good grades so far in first quarter.” Now I really felt embarrassed.

“Oh, I’m confident you won’t let us down. I do have one concern, Jerry. I hope you’re not a total lab rat or bookworm. Do you get out socially much?”

“Uh, some. More than I did in high school.”

“Good. Who do you like best, Samantha, Marci or Veronica?”

Taken aback, I goggled her. “You talked to my dad about girls?”

She looked a bit surprised, then laughed gently. “No, I read the reports.”
“Reports?”

“You don’t think Samantha picked you out of the class on her own, do you? I wrote two letters of recommendation for you to that school, Jenny.” She sat back with a big grin.

“Two...huh?”

“I wrote the academic letter you asked for, and another to Angelina, telling her I thought you had potential as a submissive. How right I was. I bragged when I learned you’d won that very difficult competition.” She looked at me expectantly.

I shook my head, still reacting to this revelation. “Wow, then you...potential.... Then otherwise... Oh, wow, now I get it. Th...Thanks, Mrs.... Amanda. Then you must be...”

“Yes, I’m a TDK alumna. I knew Vanessa’s grandmother and I attended her service, so I heard a lot about you, most of it good. I asked Samantha not to spoil my surprise. You may call me Mistress Amanda.”

“Yes, Mistress Amanda.” My reply was automatic. I took a moment to take it all in. If it weren’t for her second letter, my original hope, that my intellectual gifts would be more appreciated in college, could have been tested. My one date before the initiation wasn’t a total disaster. Mostly, I love serving the sisters, even if they give so little in return. “My life sure is different than I expected, Mistress. Much improved.”

“You don’t have mixed feelings about your service?”

“Oh, yes, all the time, I’d be lying if I said otherwise.” I shook my head and smiled. “You women have me just where you want me.”

“Wonderful, Jenny. I couldn’t have hoped for a better outcome. I intend to use you quite a bit over the next few days. I trust you’ll find that pleasant.”

That sounded ominous, coming from a TDK alumna. “I shall do my very best to please you, Mistress Amanda.”

“Good. I’m sure you will.”

Mr. Moxley interrupted us. “Luncheon is served, Madame.” He entered from the kitchen carrying a tray. I didn’t notice what was on it. Mr. Moxley was dressed as a sexy French maid. Black patent leather heels, shimmering black stockings, a short black skirt held away from his body by stiff petticoats, a low cut top revealing actual cleavage. An apron spread across him below the waist and a cute hat perched on his head. His long hair swirled up in a bun.

“Jenny, meet Henrietta. Henrietta, meet Jenny. My two favorite servants, together at last.”

Henrietta’s face was decorated by tastefully understated make-up. “You look beautiful, Henrietta,” I said truthfully.

He placed the tray, with sandwiches, soup, and juice, on the table between us and curtsied, first to his wife, then to me. “Enjoy your lunch. I shall be in the kitchen, ready to serve.” He left us, swinging his hips.

As we ate, Mistress Amanda quizzed me about the Sorority, gradually shifting the conversation to the trio of girls I liked the best. “Vanessa shares my perception that you have great potential as a servant. She feels you may develop to the point that you find your pleasure to be a distraction from your service to a woman. Very few submissives develop that far. How far do you think you are down this path?”

She’d always asked thought provoking questions in class. How close was I to feeling my pleasure as a distraction? “Not very, mistress. I’ll try to answer. When I cross campus to serve a shift, I always hope I’ll have sex with one of the Sisters. That almost never happens. Instead, I experience an exquisitely balanced mixture of pleasure, pain, and humiliation. Often, I cross campus back to the dorm very angry and resentful, yet I present myself for the next shift, hoping for pleasure to me.

“Don’t get me wrong. I deeply enjoy serving and pleasuring the women, but I can’t stop thinking of my own. The closest I come to the state you describe is when I genuinely feel glad to yield to something I don’t care for because the mistress desires it.”

“Is it easier to feel that way with one of the trio?”

“Yes, mistress. I’d rather be...um...butt fucked by Marci than flogged by Doris.”

Amanda sniffed. “That’s not much of a comparison. I know what Doris did for you.

“Jenny, you are a natural submissive. I saw it all through your school career. You excelled at everything except sports, but didn’t make a show of yourself. First board in the chess club all four years, yet you never tried to promote yourself or even chess. All those cheerleaders you helped, you never overstepped. Like this. A few years ago, there was a brainy guy like you. Some of the cheerleaders asked him for help, but he...set conditions. He was so bad I heard about it and gave him the tongue lashing of his school career.”

“I’d never do that.”

“No, you’re honest and you know your place.”

“I bet you would have liked to send him to the TDK basement, let Doris and Dorothea work him over.”
Favoring me with an arched glare, Mistress Amanda said, “It would have been sufficient to take him to my basement...alone.”

I gulped. “I’m sure it would, Mistress.”

By this time, we finished the lunch. Mistress clapped her hands and a few seconds later, Henrietta arrived. Without being asked, he picked up the tray, combining the act with a curtsy to both of us.
“Put the things down and return, Henrietta.”

“Yes,” Mistress.

When he returned, he stood at right angles to Mistress, hands behind his back.
“Now, Jenny, you are wearing panties, aren’t you? No reversion?”

I hadn’t thought about it; I guess I was used to panties. “Yes, mistress, panties.”

She watched me intently. “Stand up and show us, Jenny.”

I stood and unbuckled my belt. As I lowered my panties, the outline of my cock cage showed.
Mistress Amanda relaxed with a nod and a self-satisfied smile. I had no idea why she acted this way. She twirled her finger in a circle.

I stepped out of my jeans, held up my shirttails and took a step away before slowly turning around. I swiveled my hips a bit and tried for a Betty Grable over-the-shoulder come hither smile.

“What do you think, Henrietta?”

“Very nice legs. They’d look great in stockings...”

“You say that about everyone, you fetishst. What about the panties?”

“Well chosen, they could go with my uniform. Barely translucent with white lace trim, nice and tight, showing the cage so it can’t be mistaken and the pucker line in the crack invites a spanking or even a caress.”

“And the deportment?”

“Oh, lots to do there. I don’t think they’ve begun any real feminisation for him yet.”

“I quite agree. Marci gave him a bit at Halloween, but nothing serious. Jenny, you’ll undergo feminine ne deportment training with Henrietta while you’re here.”

“Yes, Mistress Amanda.” Nuts.

“Mistress, may I please inspect the new style cock cage?” asked Henrietta.

“Yes, dear. I’m curious, too. Come here, Jenny, and slip out of your panties.” Henrietta knelt next to Mistress’s chair, both very interested.

I discarded my panties and stood before the pair. They both gazed avidly, then Mistress Amanda lifted the cock part and gently held my ballsack. She wrapped her hand around them, took a deep breath, and sighed. “I always wanted to have my favorite student by the balls, and now I do. What do you think I should do with them, Jenny?”

I gulped. She’d wanted to do this for years? “Wh...whatever you wish, Mistress,” I stammered.

“Good answer,” stage whispered Henrietta.

My favorite math teacher smiled at me cruelly and said, “It would be a pity not to squeeze them a little bit after restraining myself so long.” Her hand tightened.

“Uh!” She stopped at the point of a dull ache and kept up the pressure.

My breath came fast and shallow.

Still the director, Henrietta said, “Control your breathing, Jenny. You’ll take more pain and please Mistress.”

I took a deep breath and relaxed. I couldn’t enjoy the continuing pressure on my balls, but the terror subsided and, as Henrietta predicted, I accepted the pain more readily. Yet the threat of a hard squeeze remained.

“This is nice. My two favorite men in the world, and a warm, virile pair of testicles to hold.” She smiled at both of us. “Real pain for you? All in good time.” She released me. “Go ahead, Henrietta, satisfy your curiosity.”

Henrietta leaned forward and grasped the tip of my cage, holding the cock away from my scrotum, much as Mistress had done. He, however, brought his face so close that I thought he was going to suck my cage for a second. Instead, he was carefully inspecting the locking mechanism. “It’s so small. Very efficient. I’d like to see the two parts separate.”

My cage came apart in his hand, to my surprise and joy. “Oh,” I gasped. Mistress Amanda held an electronic key from a necklace.

“You play with the cage, Henrietta. I’ll play with the cock. Come here, you.”

My cock rose already as I took a step nearer, standing between her spread thighs.

Grinning, she lightly pinched my cockhead between her thumb and forefinger. “I love cockheads. So smooth and resilient.” She squeezed hard.

“Uhhh.”

“Look, Henrietta, it’s a very well-trained cock. Perked right up when I pinched it. Those sorority girls haven't wasted all their time.”

“Yes, Mistress, it looks rather impressive.”

“Play with it, Jenny, while I talk with Henrietta.

“Well, honey, what do you think?”

“It’s beautiful, sleek and well made, no visual distortion. The tiny lock is molded into the case and can’t be removed without destruction, so it’s fail safe. I hope there’s some way to detect a low battery ‘cause it can’t be replaced. If it’s in place when the battery dies...

“Tell me, Jenny, when it’s fastened or released, does it make any sound?”

Maybe I could inspect an open mechanism! “Not that I ever heard. I suppose there’s a tang that makes some sound below hearing. May I take a look? Owwww!” I collapsed to the floor, balls aching.

“Don’t even think about it!” Mistress Amanda’s eyes flashed dangerously. I’d never seen her like that, even when she told a kid to report to the office!

I rolled around, moaning, clutching my poor balls. When I caught my breath, I said, “Oh, Mistress Amanda, I’m glad you didn’t do that to us for messing up a quadratic equation.”

Bad move. “You think this is a joke? I see through you, young man! Stand up.”

I wasn’t quite ready, but I rolled over, got on all fours, grasped the table and forced myself upright.
Mistress Amanda’s icy eyes held mine. “You’d like more information about the cage, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“How do you feel about the cage?”

“I hate it, Mistress, to be fully honest.”

“I demand honesty. How far...No. Not yet. Not that way.” She took a deep breath. “ Henrietta, do you have anything to say to Jenny?”

“Yes, Mistress. Thank you for allowing me to educate Jenny.

“Jenny, I know you’re told to perform acts you don’t like, and some that you do, and occasionally, you are granted your heart’s desire. So you feel the pleasure is worth the pain and humiliation you endure, correct?”

I thought a moment, then said, “I’ve asked myself that very question many times, Henrietta...and Mistress. All I can say is that I always show up for my assigned shifts and do as I’m told. Well, I can say more than that. I try to derive pleasure from the knowledge that I’m giving my mistress pleasure, even though I may be doing something distasteful to me.”

“Jenny, that’s a selfish, male-centric attitude. Unless you develop a greater understanding, you’ll remain a mediocre servant at best. But if you recognize that to receive pain and humiliation from strong-willed women is an honor and a privilege, you will begin to experience the greater self-understanding that is the submissive’s reward.

“As for your cage, as your grasp of female’s inherent superiority grows, you will wear it proudly, welcoming it as a mere symbol of your position. When your capable of such an attitude, you’ll be a much better sexual and personal servant.”

I responded, “Thank you, Henrietta. I have a weak intellectual grasp of what you said, but I’m truly not there yet. Do you have any suggestions for how I can advance?”

“Yes. Make a list — it can be mental or written — of acts that are distasteful to you. Inform your Superiors of these, preferably while they aren’t using you, and ask that they consider doing these acts if they’re so inclined. Let them know you’re asking to be trained to serve better.

“For me, a turning point came in my sophomore year when Mistress forced me to deep throat her strap-on. So humiliating and yet I had to put out real effort and practice to please her.” He gave Mistress Amanda a fond look. She held out a hand and he knelt down to hug and kiss her. He returned his attention to me. “To this day, deep throating brings tears to my eyes, and it’s very, very good for me. I hope it’s the same for you.”

“Perhaps,” I said, somewhat skeptically.

Mistress Amanda arched an eyebrow. “I’m sure you’ve sucked several strap-ons. How many cocks?”
“Three...no, four, Mistress.”

“I see. Apart from the humiliation, how do you feel about the physical sensation of having a cock in your mouth?”

Oh, boy. Confession time. “Mistress, I’m not gay, but I do like the feel of the velvety head rubbing on the roof of my mouth. Provided it doesn’t go too far back and make me gag.”

“Liking a good, stiff cock doesn't make you gay, it means you’re sensual and at least the tiniest bit bi, excellent attributes for a sexual servant.

“I’m not done with you yet about your attempt to inspect your cage. Henrietta, bring paddles 3 and 4.”
“Yes, Mistress.” He left the room.

“Kneel facing me,” Mistress Amanda said coldly.

I knelt before her, back erect, hands behind my back, enduring her glare until Henrietta returned.
“Put them on the floor next to Jenny. Thank you. Stand to one side and watch. You’ve been very good as usual, Henrietta, so you may choose where you stand to watch.”

Henrietta stood to her left. Since Mistress was right-handed, I assume he wanted to watch my face as I reacted to the blows.

“Ask me to punish you, Jenny, stating your offense. Then take each paddle, kiss it, and ask me to punish you with it.”

I took a moment to frame my speech. I was not going to lie, but I wasn’t going to confess to attempting to find a way to break out. “Mistress Amanda, I ask you to punish me for attempting to manipulate you and Henrietta into allowing me a close look at an unassembled cage. The Sisters are very careful not to allow it and I should have respected their wishes. I apologize to both of you and will gratefully take what I deserve.”

Mistress Amanda stared at me, evidently pondering my words. “That is acceptable as a reason for punishment. This will go in my report and you’ll probably hear more about it at the Sorority. I am ready to accept the paddles.”

I handed her the first paddle. It was of heavy, dense wood, 18 inches long, only about an inch and a half wide and an inch thick with a thinner handle. The numeral 4 was branded into the flat near the handle. I kissed it and offered it to Mistress with both hands. “Please use this paddle to punish me, Mistress.”

She accepted the paddle from me, placing it against her chair. I performed the same ritual with number three, a more traditional, wider and thinner paddle. Mistress scooted forward in her seat and raised her skirt. She brandished Number 3 and said, “Over my knees for your punishment, Jenny.”

I draped myself over her lap and the blows landed fast and hard. No warm-up, nothing sensual, just punishment. Within a few seconds, I grunted with each impact. Whap, whap, whap! “Oh, ow! Ouch!” Beyond grunting in record time. My math teacher sure knew how to spank. My legs flinched. Mistress put an arm over my waist to hold me in position. As I thrashed about, I saw Henrietta grinning at my discomfiture. Probably glad it wasn’t him over her knees.

Mistress paused, giving me a chance to catch my breath.

“Why are you being punished?”

“I tried to manipulate you and Henrietta so I could get a look at the cock cage, Mistress.”

“And now?”

“I won’t do it again. I apologize and ask you continue my punishment until you feel I’ve had enough, Mistress.”

“Oh, I shall, never fear!” Another flurry on my sore butt. She paused again. “Now for Number 4. Stand up.”
She arose also. “Hands to the wall and stick that bum out. I need a better swing.”

I barely got into position when the blows began. The greater mass behind each blow forced me to flex my knees each time. It really hurt. I grunted and gasped.

“Keep those knees straight! Why are you being punished?”

“For manipulating and trying to see the cage, Mistress.”

“Will you manipulate again?”

“No Mistress, I won’t.”

“Or try to look at the cage?”

“No, Mistress.”

“Count to fifteen and thank me for each stroke. Knees straight or the count starts over.”

Wow, that would be tough. “Yes Mist...Ow! One, thank you, Mistress.”

So it went. Very difficult to keep my knees locked with the strong, localized impact of the paddle. By the end, I sobbed and begged.

Ohhh, fourteen, Mistress. Please not so...Owww, fifteen, thank you, Mistress.”

“Punishment over. You may collapse.”

I dropped to the floor, moaning, rubbing my sore cheeks.

Too soon, Mistress Amanda said, “Stop rubbing. Back on your knees, hands behind your back.”

I scrambled to obey.

Mistress looked at me expectantly, one eyebrow raised.

“Mistress, I misbehaved. I tried to manipulate both you and Henrietta to get a look at an unassembled cock cage. I knew it was wrong at the time and I went ahead anyway. I am deeply sorry to violate the care you showed me in recommending me to the school and especially to the Sorority. I apologize and i won’t do it again. I hope in the future to rebuild any trust I’ve harmed by my actions.”

Mistress listened carefully and sat back. “They taught you well at the Sorority. What else did I say would happen?”

“You’ll tell the Sorority about this misbehavior.”

“Correct. Now see that you act as you have promised. You will find that my number four penetrates the tissue quite deep, giving you reminders of your punishment longer than most paddlings. This incident is closed.”

She resumed her seat, primly tugging her hemline down. She looked just like the schoolteacher I’d known, but was so unlike. The spanking convincingly showed her dual roles to be quite real. I still found this role reversal a bit hard to take in.

“Henrietta, before that rude interruption, you asked whether the cock cage made any sound. I think I know but why did you ask that?”

“Well, we both find it thrilling, in complementary ways, when you snap my lock shut, and I always rejoice when I hear the release. The sounds reassure us, and I think we’d both miss then with the new cages.”
She favored her husband with a broad smile. “I thought so. We know each other so well, Henrietta.” She held out an arm and they embraced and kissed again.

Then she smiled at me. “Well, Jenny, I’m going to teach you a new subject. Come stand next to me. I want to play with your cock.”

i got off my knees and presented my limp dick to my math teacher. The unlikelihood of the situation struck me and I laughed. “Do you want me to work a math problem on the board with my cock and some precum?”

She laughed as she took my cock in hand, appraising it with a glance as she squeezed it, pumping me up. “No math problem, but perhaps some comparison tables. For example, you erected in less than a minute. You appear to be a bit less than 7 inches around.

“Henrietta, while I get better acquainted with Jenny’s cock, prepare the bedroom. Turn down the bedclothes and light a few scented candles. Lube and massage oil as always. When you’re done, return here.”

With a “Yes, Mistress,” Henrietta left us.

Mistress Amanda stroked my cock with many variations of pressure and speed. “It’s a good cock, Jenny. Good size, not giant but definitely not small. Responsive to pleasurable sensations. How about pain, I wonder.” She slapped my cock back and forth, building up the force. I managed to stay hard, but it was a hard cockslapping. Next, she pinched the cockhead hard, digging the fingernails in.

“Uhhh!” I groaned.

She grasped the whole shaft with both hands and turned them in opposite directions. “Ahhh!” cried out. It felt like she was trying to twist my dick off! My knees buckled.

Mercifully, she let go, still with that appraising glance. “Play with it. Make it recover.”

With a deep breath, I began fondling myself. Still in pain, I figured I’d have a hard time getting fully stimulated.

Henrietta, whom I hadn’t seen return, said, “Mistress, the bedroom is prepared as you wish.”

“Good. Come stand next to Jenny. Good, now lower your panties.” Henrietta’s cock hung free, no cage! I arched my eyebrows.

Mistress brushed my hand away and enclosed my partially stiff cock in hers. She held Henrietta’s in her other hand, stroking us both, her thumbs riding over our cockheads. “Well, I finally have the cocks of the two men I like best in the world.” We all grinned.

“I’m deeply honored, Mistress Amanda. I never suspected Mrs.Moxley wanted to get me in her sexual clutches. It feels wonderful to be there.”

“Just think. If you’d failed the admission tests to the Sorority, you never would have known. Why, Jenny, it’s nice to feel your precum. I like the crinkly sound it makes as I jerk it. Henrietta, where’s your precum?”
“Not here yet, Mistress, but I’m sure you’ll cocktease it out of me any second.”

“Soon. I want you to precum before the next step of my plan.” She stroked us faster, sometimes smiling at me, sometimes looking expectantly at Henrietta. After a few of these cycles, her gaze to Henrietta changed to one of impatience.

“I’m trying, Mistress, I want to. You know I want to please you.” Henrietta sounded desperate, fearful. “There, Mistress. Precum, as you demand.”

Mistress relaxed and smiled. “Good boy! I like both of you very, very much, and I hope you inspire a strong woman to love you, Jenny, as I love Henrietta. I want you two to get better acquainted. My wrists are tired, so take over. Play with each other.”

I wasn’t surprised and Henrietta didn’t appear to be either. I folded my hand around him and pumped slowly.

“How do you like Jenny’s cock, Henrietta?”

“It’s very nice Mistress. Warm, and the tip is velvety smooth.”

“Place your fist at the base of his cock and hold it. Comment on his extension.”

“A good two inches protrude, Mistress.”

“When you do the same to yourself, how much shows?”

“About an inch, Mistress.” Henrietta’s voice dropped in pitch and volume.

“Let go of each other.” As soon as we complied, she grasped us both again. “Henrietta, compare where my thumbs and forefinger meet on the two cocks. Which of you two has the greater girth?”

“Jenny, Mistress.”

I did not like being used to humiliate Henrietta. Why was she doing this? She just told him she loved him.

“I just tested his cock. It’s more responsive than yours and recovers from pain more quickly. It stays more rigid during pain as well. What do you think I should do about this?”

Henrietta gulped, face troubled, eyes downcast. “I suggest you cuckold me with Jenny while he’s here, Mistress. And though it pains me to say it, I hope you have the greatest possible sexual satisfaction from your couplings with the younger, more vigorous fellow servant.”

“What an excellent suggestion. I shall act on it immediately. Follow us to the bedroom.” Mistress told me to discard my clothes. I stripped, folding my clothes and putting them on my chair. Mistress stood and led me by the cock to the stairs, followed by Henrietta. She took my cock in hand again at the top. “Henrietta, be sure your phone is on so I can summon you. Screen all calls. If you are aroused by our joy, you may stimulate yourself, but not, under any circumstances, cum.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

[Question for my readers:] When did you suspect, if you did, that the math teacher's interest was in more than math? I'd prefer your answer as a comment on the story rather than as a PM, but either are OK. Thanks for the comments and thanks for reading. micheleFFS

[Chico]

I thought there was something funny going on when she invited him to lunch during the phone call

[micheleFFS]

Good for you, my astute friend.

Thanks again for reading the first part of Sexually Inadequate Hubbies. Did you read the rest of the chapter? I've had no other feedback on it, so I don't have any idea what folks think. I'm making great progress on chapter 2, but if nobody likes it....

micheleFFS