So much kneeling

LANA

How long had I lied on my sofa?

Just thinking about… him?

Fucking ridiculous.

I couldn’t focus on anything. Not the TV, not the internet… Even reading was painful. My copy of “Lord of Scoundrels” was laying on the floor, unfinished.

How appropriate.

He really was the Marquis of Dain. Except worse. With no redeeming characteristics.

Was I supposed to be the headstrong protagonist Jessica who finally tames him?

That seemed as likely as me taking down a mountain with my bare hands.

He just did what he wanted. To me and my body.

Why the fuck was I feeling so horny again.

Masturbating was pointless. It just put me more on edge.

And I couldn’t masturbate to anything other than visions of him. It was like… I felt like he wouldn’t allow me to.

Nevertheless. My hand was travelling down my trousers again.

I called out for my willpower.

Nobody came.

DING DONG!

I jerked upright as if hit by a lightning.

That was the doorbell.

Someone was behind the door.

Nobody ever visited me. I mean sure I just have friends…

But recently, it was only… him.

I hated, hated the reaction my body was exhibiting on its own. Like I was an excited puppydog, and my owner was about to walk through the front door. I tried to compose myself, but I still hurried to the door. My breathing was quickening.

At least I wasn’t panting with my tongue out.

Wait, should I kneel for him? …Like yesterday…

But wait, who would open the door then?

…

Okay, I would open the door first. Then kneel.

Oh God I hated myself so much.

I turned the lock and opened up the front door.

It was Him. It was really Him.

Smiling that arrogant… but also wicked smile of his.

“Took you long enough,” he said and just brushed by me to walk in. I didn’t even have time to kneel and apologize. Somehow just the brush of his shoulder felt intoxicating.

I was about to close the door, before I realized he wasn’t alone.

She was with him. Again.

Gretchen. Ugh.

There was no love loss between us. We barely tolerated each other anymore. We hadn’t even talked, since the… since any of the three incidents. The look we shared was colder than ice.

I wanted to close the door on her face. I really did. Just to prove a point to this bitch.

But I knew he wouldn’t want it.

So I just left the door open. Let her come in when she wanted. I wouldn’t care.

I turned around a ran to greet the master.

Jesus, Lana. You’re already thinking of him as the “master” too? His name was Jack. Jack fucking Dingle, not some “master”. Please don’t forget that, brain. Wherever you are these days.

He was already sitting on a sofa. He looked at me sternly and I felt my legs failing me. I had to kneel. That was what we agreed on.

So I did. I kneeled in front of him. He looked pleased.

I was about to talk, but then I remembered the position he taught me. I put my hands behind my back and jutted my tits out to him.

This was the official “submissive” position, wasn’t it? I was laying everything I had in front of him. Being completely ****.

Like yesterday. When he made me cum so hard.

“Hello… master. Welcome.”

He chuckled to himself. Was this funny to him? They way I prostrated myself like a fuckdoll?

And why did it make me happy that he was happy?

I could hear Gretchen’s dainty footsteps coming closer to us. She looked at my position, and looked puzzled. After a few seconds she decided to do the same. Kneeling in front of him, hands behind her back, tits jutting.

Copycat bitch.

Jack just chuckled harder.

If he wasn’t taking this serious, why was I?

I should just get up.

I… should.

Why did I enjoy his laughter so much? Fuck.

“Alright. Good slaves. And Gretchie-cunt, remember this position. I call this one ‘the kneeling ****’. Seems like you already got the hang of it.”

“Yes, d- master,” she said with a slight smile.

He didn’t think that she was doing a better job at this than I was, did he? Just for assurance, I parted my thighs a bit more and really pushed my tits forward.

I’m not sure he even noticed.

Damned! Why did my stupid bitch of an editor have to be here? I was always okay with her, but ever since it came clear we were fighting for the same man, I couldn’t help but start to resent her. Her gorgeous ass, her sexy pixie cut and that damn submissive attitude. She was nothing but a whore. An easy lay for master. I’d eventually make him see that he didn’t need her around anymore.

Did he plan to… make us do stuff to… each other again? Please. Not again.

“Alright, girls. You two are going to have another fun session and get to know each other better.”

No! I hated her! And I wasn’t a lesbian, no matter how much he tried to make me one. Neither was she!

Or who knows? She was probably a nymphomaniac whore.

“And this time...” he pulled out his phone. “I’m going to film it. We’re making a porno.”

Oh God.

He just played around with me.

He had me. He completely had me. And still he wanted to…

Oh God.

“That’s not all. This one… isn’t just for me. I’ll be uploading it.”

W…. What?!

JACK

“Yeah, you heard me right. So you better put on a real good performance. A lot of people will be judging it.”

Their eyes went even wider. My two gorgeous slaves, kneeling in front of me.

It was nice to see I could still shock them. I mean I had to. I had to push at least Gretchen out of her comfort zone.

No fucking way was I actually going to upload this. Tactically, that made zero sense and was a **** warrant. But if they thought I was going to do that… Well, that was just as good, wasn’t it?

“Master…” Lana spoke up. Gretchen on the other hand looked like she was ****, trying to come up with the right words. “…Please… Don’t? Please?” Lana pleaded.

Lana bent down to kiss the tip of my shoe.

Woah.

That’s how much she didn’t want to be an internet star? Quite clever. I mean never told her to kiss my shoes before. She just already knew the proper way to beg me. A few seconds later, Gretchen joined in as well, and puckered up her tiny lips on my left shoe.

Small kisses just kept landing on my leathery footwear. So many sloppy, wet, submissive kisses. I had to stop and enjoy that for a full minute. After all, these were fucking Lana Douglas and Gretchen Rivers kissing my feet, at the same fucking time.

I gently lifted my feet to push them back to their kneeling positions. As fun as that was, it wasn’t what I was going for here.

Lana was welling up. Again. She knew how to get to me.

“Relax, bitches. I’m going to blur your faces. It’s just your bodies that will be going into the internet. Forever and ever.”

Both of them visibly relaxed. Which was probably a bad thing.

“Although if you don’t do good enough of a job, I might change my mind. Consider the blurring a possible reward. So. Are you ready to become full-fledged porn stars? I want to hear ‘yes master’ from both of you.”

Lana was first. “Y-Yes, mast-master.” (LANA: +2SP) (+90SP)

Gretchen was hesitating.

“Oh come on Gretchen. After today, you’re still feeling prudish?”

I loved the way Lana shot a jealous glance towards Gretchen. After all, it sounded like we had an adventure and she wasn’t invited along.

“Yes…. master.” (GRETCHEN: +1SP) (+97SP)

Whew. Another gem of a point in my pocket. Just how hard were the last three going to be?

Well, I had practically the rest of the day to try and find out. And oh boy I had ideas for this one.

“Right. Both of you, get up. It’s going to be an improvised script. Here’s the setting. Gretchen, you’re going to be the demanding, vicious editor, and Lana, you’ll be the aspiring writer who has just written a shitty article. And… go!”