Fenton Maurer
(Editor's note: This story is a rewrite and continuation of an earlier post.)
KAHRIN, FAMILY OF THREE (1)
The first place Kahrin took her new girl, Yoru, was shopping. She bought her a body tattoo depicting red whipping whelps, front and back. "No dress?" thought Yoru, but she said nothing. Next was a collar that forced her to her knees. Yoru was shocked when, for the first time in her Second Life, she saw herself jerking clumsily behind her new Mistress, obeying the leash.
Kahrin's eyes were frightening, unforgettable. Light blue, glittering with intelligence, she outlined them in inky black mascara under her Scandinavian blond hair. Wavy, blue-black streaks emanated from around her gaze.
First date... ahhh! Do you remember how nice that was with your best lover? Yoru's first date with Kahrin was nothing like that. No romantic thoughts of dinner spots, no dancing until dawn. Something like a loving embrace, but not like she had imagined. She was unprepared for this new flow of experience dripping with spurts of emotional attachments. How did Kahrin achieve this for her girl sub?
She kept Yoru on her knees in two separate bars, humiliated, kneeling with her head down among the standing and sitting patrons. That is at the level of everyone's genitals. Her "stripes," red, painful whelps, glistened like congealing red sweat on her formerly perfect, amber-ivory skin. The two women, Mistress and sub, hadn't been in the first bar very long before a tough-looking, quiet man named Griegol instant messaged Karin to negotiate the use of the slave.
"Oh," said Karin in open chat, "no payment needed. You may do what you want to her, as long as I can watch."
"Oh," said Karin in open chat, "no payment needed. You may do what you want to her, as long as I can watch."
"Curious," thought Yoru, "she likes to see me sex." Her heartbeat suddenly betrayed to her how intensely exciting it was to be given to such a force of manhood, without warning or apology. He took her leash and jerked it once to see if it was working, making Yoru dance drunkenly like a noob and causing smirks from other patrons in the bar.
He turned out to be kind to Yoru, refusing to add to the whippings or harm her, but he fucked her in every position she had ever experienced, and some that were new to her. Karin was arroused, commenting and goading him on.
In the second bar, Yoru was given to Karin's current boyfriend, a huge man, also from Northern Europe, who felt it inappropriate to fuck Yoru outright in front of his new girlfriend. Karin helped him out of his embarrassment, tying Yoru up, not quite dangling, hands and arms stretched out in two opposite directions above her, feet and legs tied open wide. The powerful man finger-fucked both of her holes, normally hidden in the delicate slit between her legs, now spread pink and exposed as she hung helpless, ball-gagged, unable to talk or resist the man's fingers, emoting fear and pleasure and a little pain and climaxing again and again. She couldn't help herself.
Second date saw Yoru laying in Kahrin's arms, safe and satisfied. Kahrin asked Yoru to tell her of her aspirations, and she did. Karin explained more about what she expected from the relationship and informed her of her duty to love her sister sub, Myraka. Passionately love her.
Fenton Maurer
KAHRIN, FAMILY OF THREE (2)
"Karin explained more about what she expected from the relationship and informed Yoru of her duty to love her sister sub Myraka. Passionately love her."
KAHRIN, FAMILY OF THREE (2)
"Karin explained more about what she expected from the relationship and informed Yoru of her duty to love her sister sub Myraka. Passionately love her."
Myraka is a smooth-skinned tattoo-less brunette of great beauty, charm and cunning. Yoru met her for the first time at a dance in a tall field of wheat where only their heads were visible bobbing above the wafting kernels. Yoru's eyes were riveted to Myraka's face as though they were being forced by the power of nature to adore the source of all beauty out of sheer astonishment at the perfect symmetry of extraordinary loveliness. There is something sublime in Myraka's eyes, and just beholding her face was enough to make anyone miss a breath. But at that moment, slowly, Myraka began to drift up, her round shoulders emerging from the field like a white, scintillating rainbow into the blue sky, the ripples of her silver silk tank top loosely draping her brown shoulders, one side dropping off, glittering, revealing one breast and darker nipple like an amazon warrior woman of desire. Higher she floated, motioning to Yoru to join her, and when her hips appeared rising out of the wheat, the sheer lace, see-through white panties rendered the pubic hair beneath even more visible than if she had been nude. By now, everyone's gaze transferred from their respective lovers to Myraka's legs.
And so they drifted above the field of dancing, undulating, IMing avs in the clear SL afternoon, participating in the party yet above it, uniting in a couples dance of great closeness, high in the air looking down on the heads floating on a sea of golden wheat kernels. Their caresses became more seriously emotive, showering down on the party-goers like sticky-sweet over-ripened cherries, the words dripping the juice of woman's rain.
"I want to know who you are," Yoru said, "why have I not seen you before?"
"Oh Yoru," Myraka answered, "I have loved you from afar, but I dared not approach you, because I am not sure if my new Mistress is a jealous woman."
Yoru opened her profile and saw the name "Kahren" in the partner slot. Myraka's Domme was Yoru's new Mistress.
"Your Mistress knows. She sent me."
Myraka was silent.
"Kahrin sent me, sweetie, I am your new sister lover. She wants us to be friends... may I friend you?"
"Kahrin sent you?"
And as bewildered as Yoru thought she may have been, Myraka swiftly changed the dance to one that allowed her to kiss Yoru, bending her over almost in half, so she couldn't move, and she held her there for a long time, emoting heavily, kissing her without pause, without withdrawing her tongue from the dainty, red lips of the Japanese girl, causing the dancing couples and singles below to hush their open chat to catch the dripping heat.
"I have loved you for almost a year!" Myraka said, not in open chat, but in IM.
Yoru didn't know what to say. This angel of Asia had been watching her, all her torrid affairs, her heartbreaks, her emotional ties, broken, repaired, her inevitable swooning in the arms of another av, female or male it mattered not to her, living brightly then fading, the alone, her eyes attached irrevocably to the horizon, looking for a lover of her own dedication to utter pleasure. "You have seen my unhappy love affairs, and you still wish to dance with me?"
Fenton Maurer
KAHRIN, FAMILY OF THREE (3)
"This angel of Asia had been watching her, all her torrid affairs, her heartbreaks..."
The two dark-featured brunettes knelt noiselessly. Their Swedish Mistress Kahrin had forced them to gather on her own bed, a bed of hellishly unending variations, the deepest poses of which had never been used, never drilled down to, were still unpenetrated, unrevealed. Kahrin watched her girls.
Both shy, they had not yet made love after they met. Yoru had at first been a little dismissive of the short, compelling messages Myraka sent her once or twice daily, finding them pleasantly hinting, flirting, if vaporous. But the messages continued for several days and took on context, and Yoru began to look for them on her phone. She had felt surprised at her yearning to read the delicate girl's purring, pretty words. The vapors, it seems, were congealing into fluids, Myraka's body fluids, the wetness, the sensuous rain, of a woman captured in passion.
Still they paused, wondering why their Mistress had allowed them to explore as they pleased. It was exciting, but a little scary. Are there things a girl should reserve for Mistress only? If one were too willing to give everything to her sister sub, would Mistress disapprove?
Then something that could only happen in SL moved the shy scene forward. A random male passerby clicked onto the dance pole from outside the building into their private room. They paused, but he quickly apologized for his intrusion, and they saw he was a handsome guy. Noting the two girls naked together on the bed, he offered on the spot to make up for his intrusion by dancing nude on the sexy pole while the girls played. Mistress considered for a moment, then agreed. And so it was that the four of them sexed spontaneously, simultaneously, languid with the syrupy feeling of people at the height of physical and mental pleasure, each doing different things, each beginning to feel the passion of online love in various ways, subtle shades of swirling thrills growing below their bellies. The man was good, opening his legs wide on the female pole, and best of all, he emoted skillfully about the luscious sights in his viewer.
And who was in his viewer? It was a worthy view. Myraka is a classy dancer at a BDSM club, a busy, reputable place that takes care not to hire escorts. There, almost nude, she had polished her emotive power in the perilous vicinity of powerful doms, under the tutelage of her Mistress, and her chat could dig as deep as her nails. And Yoru, who was at that moment swimming in desire for her "sister sub," her playmate peer, her beautifully sculpted SL apparition... you have met Yoru? You would remember this Asian-American.
Swim, Yoru, SWIM! Abruptly, her shyness was overwhelmed by the sight of Myraka's generous triangle, and Yoru plunged into the fragrant pond surrounded by the glistening blue-black pubic forest and was swept up in a current of desire, her tongue at first lapping delicately, concentrating exclusively on the rosy flesh of Myraka's clitoris, wetting her lips on the clear, essential liquid welling up from a woman on a rising plateau of sexual arousal. Gently Yoru continued on the pretty button until Myraka's inner and outer lips became swollen, until the flowing rain, the liquid love that feeds the pleasure of all pleasures, became visible, very visible, until finally Myraka's soft thighs closed tightly around Yoru's ears and neck, ahhh... the delicious leg-clamping of clitoral climaxes! Yoru snuggled in deeper, using the writhing thighs to work her head closer to the fountain, evading the crossing movement of strong muscles, then opened her mouth and puckered her lips to suck in the divine rivulet. No drop was lost. And energy! Oh, the effortless energy was self-generating, the primal example of the power of mind over matter, churning out reserves of strength from thin air in that shared pleasure dome of lost inhibitions and ecstasy. Yoru spread her tongue wide and placed it flat on the curving vaginal lips of soft, shiny, silky skin as Myraka recovered, and as Yoru caught her breath her lust welled up with the oxygen in her lungs. Myraka widened her legs slightly, then more, lifting only a centimetre, signaling to Yoru she was open and utterly surrendered, the sweet, sensual, swollen knob having done its task, delivering everything.
And of what may the "everything" of such a woman consist? Sliding her hands up from Myraka's buttocks to behind her knees, Yoru put light pressure and lifted her hips easily, then smoothly higher, so that she could lick her pussy from top to bottom, and back again, again, again, swallowing the squirting darling. She felt the ease of power she had over Myraka's erogenous zones, all of them, as if they were laid out for her, banquet fashion, to luxuriate on the most lovely, most private corner of the universe. Yoru began cumming with only her mouth, as was her habit, a continuous series of sweet sensuous highs until at last Myraka's urgent positioning told her to lick and suck exclusively again on the clitoris for a second climax, this time more urgent and thrashing. Yoru rose, the musky, clear love fluid permeating her from nose to inside her belly, dripping deliciously, ready to push her fingers deep into her lover's most intimate places, experiencing the desire to mirror the penetration Myraka had accomplished with her fluids of desire draining over Yoru's tongue down into her core.
And so she did, climbing up over Myraka's body, taking the domme's role from the beginning, rubbing her breasts slowly back and forth across Myraka's tummy as she rose, stopping off to adore the rigid nipples on swelling breasts, then traveling with her tongue up her neck to her lips, positioning nipples on nipples, hungrily inserting her tongue, slipping one hand behind her neck to pull a shock of hair firmly together to pin her rigidly in a forced kiss. Yoru turned to lick her fingers and reached down for more, bringing them back and putting them in Myraka's mouth, both girls sucking the wet fingers, becoming intoxicated on the dripping woman-scented ambrosia. Her hand fulfilled its highest aspirations of touching as it caressed and cupped and covered and fondled lovingly and finally pushed deep into the fleshy slit. She writhed and undulated, they both did, never stopping, until that breathtaking moment when they knew with surety they were almost there, and then the promised thrilling rush of über-pleasure, when Yoru breathed in sharply, filling her lungs, and somehow through the soaring bliss she felt Myraka's breasts press against hers as she, too, gulped in the same impassioned breath, the body's ultimate gusty intake enabling extraordinary effort, the explosion of mutual climax that is most excruciating because shared. Transcending the searing delight, Yoru envisioned the breath exhaling out in some form of pure sigh of the soul, together, emanating from them both at exactly the same second even as the sucking in of air had been simultaneous, and at that instant she crossed again from the mental to the physical as both women did indeed cease holding the tremendous, crushingly held breath inside their heaving torsos, mutually exhaling it in the most profound sigh of satisfaction either of them had ever known.
Then, without a word, it was no longer the two of them, no 69, it was a triangle, not yin-yang, but something perhaps beyond the Chinese philosophers' ability to describe. Yoru was in it, living it, and she realized in her haze of passion that she was licking her Mistress and her sister sub, both of them, it was two currents, two rivers of female fluid becoming a single, deeper river converging in her mouth, the flowing women were becoming one passionate organism cumming, orgasms simultaneous, lengthy, and gasping, into the welcoming home of Yoru's cumming mouth and throat and down into the center of her body. She gulped twice, thrice, and thought: "Only three women can continuously feed each other two female sex-rivers until the utter drowning of all in one." Divine, perhaps a little devilish, it was the unending climax of the goddess of passion. Surely there is such a goddess--at that moment, Yoru felt she was herself such a being.
And so they drifted above the field of dancing, undulating, IMing avs in the clear SL afternoon, participating in the party yet above it, uniting in a couples dance of great closeness, high in the air looking down on the heads floating on a sea of golden wheat kernels. Their caresses became more seriously emotive, showering down on the party-goers like sticky-sweet over-ripened cherries, the words dripping the juice of woman's rain.
"I want to know who you are," Yoru said, "why have I not seen you before?"
"Oh Yoru," Myraka answered, "I have loved you from afar, but I dared not approach you, because I am not sure if my new Mistress is a jealous woman."
Yoru opened her profile and saw the name "Kahren" in the partner slot. Myraka's Domme was Yoru's new Mistress.
"Your Mistress knows. She sent me."
Myraka was silent.
"Kahrin sent me, sweetie, I am your new sister lover. She wants us to be friends... may I friend you?"
"Kahrin sent you?"
And as bewildered as Yoru thought she may have been, Myraka swiftly changed the dance to one that allowed her to kiss Yoru, bending her over almost in half, so she couldn't move, and she held her there for a long time, emoting heavily, kissing her without pause, without withdrawing her tongue from the dainty, red lips of the Japanese girl, causing the dancing couples and singles below to hush their open chat to catch the dripping heat.
"I have loved you for almost a year!" Myraka said, not in open chat, but in IM.
Yoru didn't know what to say. This angel of Asia had been watching her, all her torrid affairs, her heartbreaks, her emotional ties, broken, repaired, her inevitable swooning in the arms of another av, female or male it mattered not to her, living brightly then fading, the alone, her eyes attached irrevocably to the horizon, looking for a lover of her own dedication to utter pleasure. "You have seen my unhappy love affairs, and you still wish to dance with me?"
Fenton Maurer
KAHRIN, FAMILY OF THREE (3)
"This angel of Asia had been watching her, all her torrid affairs, her heartbreaks..."
The two dark-featured brunettes knelt noiselessly. Their Swedish Mistress Kahrin had forced them to gather on her own bed, a bed of hellishly unending variations, the deepest poses of which had never been used, never drilled down to, were still unpenetrated, unrevealed. Kahrin watched her girls.
Both shy, they had not yet made love after they met. Yoru had at first been a little dismissive of the short, compelling messages Myraka sent her once or twice daily, finding them pleasantly hinting, flirting, if vaporous. But the messages continued for several days and took on context, and Yoru began to look for them on her phone. She had felt surprised at her yearning to read the delicate girl's purring, pretty words. The vapors, it seems, were congealing into fluids, Myraka's body fluids, the wetness, the sensuous rain, of a woman captured in passion.
Still they paused, wondering why their Mistress had allowed them to explore as they pleased. It was exciting, but a little scary. Are there things a girl should reserve for Mistress only? If one were too willing to give everything to her sister sub, would Mistress disapprove?
Then something that could only happen in SL moved the shy scene forward. A random male passerby clicked onto the dance pole from outside the building into their private room. They paused, but he quickly apologized for his intrusion, and they saw he was a handsome guy. Noting the two girls naked together on the bed, he offered on the spot to make up for his intrusion by dancing nude on the sexy pole while the girls played. Mistress considered for a moment, then agreed. And so it was that the four of them sexed spontaneously, simultaneously, languid with the syrupy feeling of people at the height of physical and mental pleasure, each doing different things, each beginning to feel the passion of online love in various ways, subtle shades of swirling thrills growing below their bellies. The man was good, opening his legs wide on the female pole, and best of all, he emoted skillfully about the luscious sights in his viewer.
And who was in his viewer? It was a worthy view. Myraka is a classy dancer at a BDSM club, a busy, reputable place that takes care not to hire escorts. There, almost nude, she had polished her emotive power in the perilous vicinity of powerful doms, under the tutelage of her Mistress, and her chat could dig as deep as her nails. And Yoru, who was at that moment swimming in desire for her "sister sub," her playmate peer, her beautifully sculpted SL apparition... you have met Yoru? You would remember this Asian-American.
Swim, Yoru, SWIM! Abruptly, her shyness was overwhelmed by the sight of Myraka's generous triangle, and Yoru plunged into the fragrant pond surrounded by the glistening blue-black pubic forest and was swept up in a current of desire, her tongue at first lapping delicately, concentrating exclusively on the rosy flesh of Myraka's clitoris, wetting her lips on the clear, essential liquid welling up from a woman on a rising plateau of sexual arousal. Gently Yoru continued on the pretty button until Myraka's inner and outer lips became swollen, until the flowing rain, the liquid love that feeds the pleasure of all pleasures, became visible, very visible, until finally Myraka's soft thighs closed tightly around Yoru's ears and neck, ahhh... the delicious leg-clamping of clitoral climaxes! Yoru snuggled in deeper, using the writhing thighs to work her head closer to the fountain, evading the crossing movement of strong muscles, then opened her mouth and puckered her lips to suck in the divine rivulet. No drop was lost. And energy! Oh, the effortless energy was self-generating, the primal example of the power of mind over matter, churning out reserves of strength from thin air in that shared pleasure dome of lost inhibitions and ecstasy. Yoru spread her tongue wide and placed it flat on the curving vaginal lips of soft, shiny, silky skin as Myraka recovered, and as Yoru caught her breath her lust welled up with the oxygen in her lungs. Myraka widened her legs slightly, then more, lifting only a centimetre, signaling to Yoru she was open and utterly surrendered, the sweet, sensual, swollen knob having done its task, delivering everything.
And of what may the "everything" of such a woman consist? Sliding her hands up from Myraka's buttocks to behind her knees, Yoru put light pressure and lifted her hips easily, then smoothly higher, so that she could lick her pussy from top to bottom, and back again, again, again, swallowing the squirting darling. She felt the ease of power she had over Myraka's erogenous zones, all of them, as if they were laid out for her, banquet fashion, to luxuriate on the most lovely, most private corner of the universe. Yoru began cumming with only her mouth, as was her habit, a continuous series of sweet sensuous highs until at last Myraka's urgent positioning told her to lick and suck exclusively again on the clitoris for a second climax, this time more urgent and thrashing. Yoru rose, the musky, clear love fluid permeating her from nose to inside her belly, dripping deliciously, ready to push her fingers deep into her lover's most intimate places, experiencing the desire to mirror the penetration Myraka had accomplished with her fluids of desire draining over Yoru's tongue down into her core.
And so she did, climbing up over Myraka's body, taking the domme's role from the beginning, rubbing her breasts slowly back and forth across Myraka's tummy as she rose, stopping off to adore the rigid nipples on swelling breasts, then traveling with her tongue up her neck to her lips, positioning nipples on nipples, hungrily inserting her tongue, slipping one hand behind her neck to pull a shock of hair firmly together to pin her rigidly in a forced kiss. Yoru turned to lick her fingers and reached down for more, bringing them back and putting them in Myraka's mouth, both girls sucking the wet fingers, becoming intoxicated on the dripping woman-scented ambrosia. Her hand fulfilled its highest aspirations of touching as it caressed and cupped and covered and fondled lovingly and finally pushed deep into the fleshy slit. She writhed and undulated, they both did, never stopping, until that breathtaking moment when they knew with surety they were almost there, and then the promised thrilling rush of über-pleasure, when Yoru breathed in sharply, filling her lungs, and somehow through the soaring bliss she felt Myraka's breasts press against hers as she, too, gulped in the same impassioned breath, the body's ultimate gusty intake enabling extraordinary effort, the explosion of mutual climax that is most excruciating because shared. Transcending the searing delight, Yoru envisioned the breath exhaling out in some form of pure sigh of the soul, together, emanating from them both at exactly the same second even as the sucking in of air had been simultaneous, and at that instant she crossed again from the mental to the physical as both women did indeed cease holding the tremendous, crushingly held breath inside their heaving torsos, mutually exhaling it in the most profound sigh of satisfaction either of them had ever known.
Then, without a word, it was no longer the two of them, no 69, it was a triangle, not yin-yang, but something perhaps beyond the Chinese philosophers' ability to describe. Yoru was in it, living it, and she realized in her haze of passion that she was licking her Mistress and her sister sub, both of them, it was two currents, two rivers of female fluid becoming a single, deeper river converging in her mouth, the flowing women were becoming one passionate organism cumming, orgasms simultaneous, lengthy, and gasping, into the welcoming home of Yoru's cumming mouth and throat and down into the center of her body. She gulped twice, thrice, and thought: "Only three women can continuously feed each other two female sex-rivers until the utter drowning of all in one." Divine, perhaps a little devilish, it was the unending climax of the goddess of passion. Surely there is such a goddess--at that moment, Yoru felt she was herself such a being.
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