P02E02

“Having breakfast” required some preparations. When Marcy and I entered the living room, Howard got down to the business of tying Marcy up. Next to the dining table was something which would have been called a “side table” if it hadn’t had such a strange shape, more like a bench: just a horizontal bar, 6 inches wide, upholstered with black leather, and supported by slanting legs to the floor. Its use became clear as he lay Marcy’s torso face down along the length of the bar, and her limbs naturally fell into place along the legs of the bench. He walked around it and briefly kneeled at each corner to secure her wrists and ankles to the base of the benches’ legs.

Then he took a hook of shining metal, with a ball at the end of it. He opened her asshole to insert the ball into it as if that was the most normal thing to do in the world. The bend of the hook made it curve upwards, towards her back. He took her hair, gathered it into a braid, and looped a piece of rope around it in a knot; he then led the other end of the rope to the end of the ass hook, where he put the rope through a convenient eye. After pulling it tight so her neck tilted backwards, he secured it with a knot. Her head now came up from the bench, facing forward, and straining her neck; it was impossible for her to tilt it forward into a more natural position, as that would put full pressure on the hook bending into her ass. It was a delicious and thoughtful tie.

Howard zipped down his pants and let his dick jump out; somewhat to my surprise, it was hard and ready. He walked to the face end, where her mouth was given some sort of test run: three shallow thrusts at medium speed. Then he closed down this option for the moment by inserting a ball gag, looping the straps around her head and fastening them with a buckle.

The entire bench was mounted on wheels, and he pushed it to the edge of the dining table, her head facing the wall. When Howard and I sat down to have our meal, Marcy’s inviting ass was right next to us. The pussy right beneath it was already glistening again. Howard occasionally squeezed her buttocks during our meal, and invited me to follow suit.

I said: “So what is up today, uncle? Marcy mentioned some sort of event is happening today?”

“Indeed there is. We’ll go out this afternoon and join up with some friends of mine… it will be a really nice surprise, I promise. “

I felt slightly disappointed, I would have gladly passed on tickets for the Super Bowl to play with Marcy all day instead, and I certainly didn’t look forward to a courtesy visit to his friends. But he was my host, making all of this possible at all, so I did my best to hide my disappointment.

“Is Marcy also your sub when you go out with her? I mean… do you treat her like you do here as well? “

“Well, it depends. Sometimes we go to public places, like a park or a mall… she looks perfectly normal then, though I usually hide some perks under her clothing. But when we go to more private places then yeah, the people there are usually like minded, and she’s just as slutty and subservient as she is in here. “

The prospect of visiting “friends” changed a bit, but didn’t necessarily become better. I somehow resented the idea of Marcy being exposed to all kinds of strange men while I was only just getting to know her, and I said so to Howard.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that,” he replied, “she’s not coming with us today. “

This didn’t make matters better either. The “social studies” were still nothing but a daydream, and my time at this ranch was limited. It felt as if some outdoor activity without her was just a waste of precious time which could have been spent playing with Marcy.

Howard noticed my disappointment, and chuckled: “Oh don’t give me that deceived look! I’m pretty sure you’ll enjoy it; and Marcy will be here when we get back anyway. “

I tried pressing him for more details about this mysterious visit, but he didn’t divulge anything, saying it would ruin the surprise.

We spent the rest of the morning edging Marcy. Howard explained to me that the day after an orgasm storm like yesterday was very well suited for teaching me, partly because her resilience to orgasm would be larger which gave me more room for the handling errors of a beginner, and partly because she required major rehornification anyway, and extended pussy play was a very good method for that.

Howard focussed his lesson on the vocal signs of hornification, and how to read them. I was amazed to find out about all the sound nuances a hornifying-yet-denied female body could produce: sighs, heaves, gasps, puffs, moans, pants, grunts, wails, groans, shrieks, sobs, cries… Howard taught me how they were all syllables of a language of lust, and that when I learned to understand that language, any girl could be under my control, she could be seen through like a crystal ball, unable to hide any secret within, every corner of her intimacy open to my unrelenting scrutiny. I wondered if something like that would ever work out with Emily, but I kept my mouth shut.

He tested me; he made me stand with my back to them, and deduce the action he was playing on her by nothing but the sound of that language. At first I was horribly bad at it, but with some further practice and the guidance of Howard, I quickly got better. By the end of the morning, I was able to distinguish the difference between a slit insertion and a clit play nine out of ten times right.

I asked: “But surely, every girl speaks a different language? Not all girls respond to stimuli in the same way, right?”

“Of course there is a bit of variance. But that’s more like a dialect, than an actual different language. Believe me, when you comprehend the basics, you can understand any woman as you play her. And when you understand her responses, you can guide her to the place you want her to be, and steer her into any particular corner of the realm of lust; and once you take her there, and allow her to quench on all the delicious wells in that land, she’ll be at your feet forever. “