Letters to Penthouse XXXVI (14 page)

George lubricated Michelle’s manhood with his come and stroked her to full erection. Then he lubricated first the rock-hard
cock and then his own ass with K-Y. Moving farther forward, George lowered his ass onto the waiting cock. He rode Mike for
quite a while, stopping whenever he sensed Mike was about to come. When he could no longer control either of them, he let
Mike pour into his ass. I could not believe the incredible turn-on it was to watch Mike’s deflowering that evening—first fellatio,
and then both sides of ass-fucking.

Nan and I left our husbands to spend the night together while we rekindled some of my old lesbian desires. From the other
bedroom we could hear the squeaking of bedsprings, and I knew both Mike and Michelle were enjoying George’s company.

Since that wonderful night, George and Nan have been our guests several times a month. Mike now has a much fuller appreciation
of his feminine side, and I think that has made him more sensitive to my needs as both a woman and a wife.

—Ms. E.W., Tennessee

There I was, feeling sorry for myself because Angie had forgotten my fortieth birthday. After all, it was me who’d said I
wasn’t ready for her to move in yet. Now I wasn’t so sure; the house was certainly warmer, more alive and sexy when she was
in it. I guess I was holding out for a little more kinky action from her, you know, maybe a rubber bra occasionally, or getting
to fuck her luscious ass—but maybe that wasn’t really her style and I was being stubborn.

She had indeed left me a card that said there was a birthday surprise waiting for me in the garage. But you know, even if
it was a lawnmower, I was beginning to think it would be better to have Angie in my arms. A knock at the door that opened
to the garage startled me out of my reverie. I didn’t know what to expect, but I put down my glass and got up to open it.

And there was the birthday surprise of a lifetime!

Angie was gorgeous. Her hands were cuffed behind her back, her breasts spilling out of a low-cut bra and tiny black top. The
rest of her hot ensemble was composed of an ultrashort skirt and black silk nylons held up by a garter belt. Her eyes were
wide with fear and hope. Her mouth was gagged. There was a note pinned to her blouse. “Are you man enough to ravish me, Master
Edward?”

At her feet was a pile of all my magazines about domination and submission. I led her into the kitchen, pulled two chairs
away from the Formica table and had her sit across from me. Naturally it wasn’t going to take much to convince me that being
Master Edward (my middle name) could be a whole lot of fun.

Something inside me shifted when I spoke that name to myself. Of course, to be perfectly honest, I had often fantasized about
myself in handcuffs and a gag, but hey, I certainly wanted Angie to experience the sweet, hot pleasure I imagined submitting
would give to me.

I went behind her and lifted her breasts out into the open. Her normally pink nipples were already tensed up into little pleasure-balls.
“Are these for me?” I held her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers.

Angie gave a tiny nod to indicate yes. I squeezed. Her eyes got wide and dark, but she did not pull away. I know that feeling,
having played with my own nipples when I was alone. I squeezed and pulled, stretching her large, sensitive breasts. Her eyes
closed, the breath rushed out of her, and she arched her back. She was lost in the wild sensations.

I chuckled upon realizing she had planted a fancy pair of chained nipple clips in the pocket of her blouse. I attached them
to her nubs and was surprised at how tight she wanted them. I sat across from her and drank my scotch, checking out my magazines,
while she squirmed. Every time she shifted in her chair I gave a little tug to still her.

“You know, of course, what I’m going to want you to give me, right?” I asked her. She nodded yes and raised her eyebrows questioningly.

“Go ahead,” I said, wondering if she really knew what I meant.

Angie awkwardly got to her feet, wincing whenever her breasts wobbled. She carefully turned around and bent over. Her short
skirt hiked up to reveal a small butt plug firmly in place. Oh, yes, she was going to let Master Edward have everything!

As much as I loved the look of the gag, I actually wanted her to tell me she wanted my cock in her ass, so I removed her gag.
A sharp slap to her ass cut her words in midflow. When my handprint blossomed in pink on the white flesh of her bottom, my
blood started throbbing. My cock swelled to a tight shaft of hydraulic pressure.

There was a puddle of wetness on the chair, a good enough excuse for a spanking. Angie tried to stay still, but she squirmed,
hissed, and moaned as I worked over her silky ass. I tried to make her use the safeword I had given her, but my hand wore
out before she did.

I was beginning to realize Angie might be a real gold mine of submissiveness. A quick feel of her pussy confirmed that. It
was wet, swollen, slick, and hot to the touch.

I eased the butt plug out of her ass. I wanted her to help in her submission, so I freed her hands. It took a few slaps to
her bottom before she pulled her cheeks wide open for me.

“Master, please fuck my ass.” It took some nipple work to get her to choke out those words.

I stood between her legs and watched the head of my lubricated dick prod her tight anal ring. She begged me not to, she pleaded
for mercy, but I never heard the safe-word, so I leaned in. Sweat appeared on her back when the head of my cock slid into
her ass. I reached for her neck and held her head down while slowly working every throbbing inch into the tightest place my
cock had ever been.

“Oh, yes, Master,” she cried out. Angie’s hot, blushing ass shifted back at me, opened, and I sank into the buttery softness
of her rear passage. “Make me yours forever.”

I reached for her clit and stroked it softly, barely touching the throbbing little point of pleasure. She writhed through
her orgasm, squealing as she ground her clamped nipples into the table, crying out as I fucked her hard. She kept coming and
coming. I could feel the wet, powerful contractions on my cock, and I unleashed powerful thrusts that buried my shaft deep
in her willing, submissive ass.

I’m here to tell you that our little garage scene bonded me to Angie so fiercely, I was jealous of her even leaving the room
after that. There was some kind of mysterious intimacy as we shared in the stretching of sexual limits. And, amazingly, after
our late start, today Angie is always willing to go a little deeper into subspace when I’m really there for her. Needless
to say, I begged her to move in that very night.

—Mr. P.A., via email

My husband, Lloyd, is the decision maker for his company, overseeing the work of twenty-five employees. When he comes home,
he often brings this “in-charge” attitude with him. For his birthday I decided to take this attitude right out of him and
make Lloyd my personal slave. This called for something special. I reserved a suite at a casino in Las Vegas and personally
arranged some time off for him, but kept it a secret until the day we were to leave.

In preparation for Lloyd’s surprise I bought latex gloves and plenty of lubricant. Already in our toy box were clamps, rope,
and enough butt plugs to start my own store. I often get excited when I look at our collection of toys, and today was no different;
I felt my pussy becoming wet.

When Lloyd came through the door on the evening of his birthday, I was right there in front of him, wearing nothing but a
thong, a cupless leather bra, and high-heeled leather boots. He smiled and made a grab for me, but I slapped his hands away
and told him that a slave does not touch his mistress unless she grants permission. His face fell, but before he could say
anything I told him to take off his suit. He started to smile again until I brought out the whip I’d held behind my back.
After that, he obeyed. He took off his shirt and pants, but the best part was still hidden. I used the whip on his shoulder
and told him to hurry up; his mistress wanted to see his package.

Lloyd stood naked before me as I watched his cock become erect. When I raised my eyes, Lloyd was smiling at me, but with a
snap of the whip on his arm he lowered his eyes and lost the grin. It seemed he was finally understanding his new role.

Then I led Lloyd down the hall to the bathroom, where I had laid out everything I needed for an enema, and told him to get
down on all fours. The enema bag was hanging from a towel rack, filled with warm water. I rubbed lubricating jelly around
the tip and then very thoroughly around Lloyd’s asshole, which he enjoyed. Then I inserted the enema and released the catch
on the hose, and Lloyd’s ass began to fill with warm water. He has always enjoyed enemas, and I could see that this time was
no exception. Stopping the water flow, I let Lloyd catch his breath. When he nodded, I released the catch again and slowly
let the water flow down the tube. After a few more times Lloyd raised his hand, which is our signal that he had taken all
he could handle. I put the enema bag in the sink and closed the door softly behind me as I left.

Within minutes, I was leading my buck-naked slave back to our bedroom, using his cock as a leash. I made him bend over while
I opened the dresser drawer and retrieved a butt plug and lube. Greasing up the rather small plug, I gently inserted it into
his asshole and then made him stand up straight. I admired my handiwork, then slowly pulled the plug out of his ass, only
to shove it back in abruptly. He moaned with pleasure, and I smiled.

Grasping his cock in my hands, I knelt in front of Lloyd and slowly circled my tongue around the head. A small droplet of
come oozed out and I licked it right off. Lloyd usually grabs my head at this point, and I could tell that it was with great
effort and concentration that he kept his hands behind his back. I circled his cock slowly, around and around, sometimes letting
it enter my mouth and sucking it. Lloyd thrust his pelvis forward, trying in vain to get his cock inside my hot mouth, his
breathing becoming faster and his moans growing louder. Abruptly, I stopped and stood up, ordering my slave to put on a casual
shirt and slacks. Then I told him to get into the car, where our bags were already packed and waiting for us. I threw on a
sleeveless dress over the cupless bra, joined Lloyd in the car and we then pulled out of the driveway.

On the drive to Las Vegas, I patted his cheek and told him he was being a good slave. I then instructed Lloyd that in public
he would address me by my name, but in private I was to be Mistress, and calling me anything else would result in severe punishment.
I could tell Lloyd was having a difficult time trying not to smile as we sped down the highway.

When we entered our hotel suite I surveyed the room. The dining room table would work nicely for my plans and the jacuzzi
would be a perfect fit. I handed my slave the ice bucket and sent him to the ice machine with instructions to be quick. He
ran.

Upon his return, I made him kneel in the doorway and told him to stay. Then I went about getting the toys ready. I retrieved
my slave and helped him climb onto the table, placing him on his back. I tied his arms in spread-eagled fashion to two chairs
and had him slide down so that his bare ass was right at the edge of the table. Two other chairs were used to tie his legs
in the same fashion. His breathing increased as his excitement grew.

I stroked his cock as I removed the small butt plug from his ass. Reaching into my bag, my hand closed around a larger silicone
plug, which I knew Lloyd would enjoy. After applying more lubrication, I slid the plug into his asshole. He moaned, pulling
on his restraints. Grabbing an ice cube from the bucket, I began to rub it over Lloyd’s belly. Small drops of water slid down
his sides and toward his cock and his breathing slowed, but I was not getting the response I was looking for. I grabbed a
handful of ice and wrapped both icy hands around his cock and balls and held them there. Now I saw a definite increase in
breathing and movement from my slave. Lloyd was writhing on the table, trying to get away from the icy-cold sensation.