Monique was getting more and more aroused watching Adam and Clara, but she also felt left out and puzzled. What the fuck? she thought. She was getting closer and closer just by watching Adam with the other woman; it wouldn’t take much to put her over the edge. How could anyone be near Adam and not have the same response? The bitch was not only stuck-up, she was frigid. Monique could not understand why Adam would waste even a moment on Clara when she, Monique, was so ready, so willing. Anything, she whispered to herself. Anything.

When Adam finally turned his blue gaze on her, though, she almost took a step backwards. Looking into his eyes, she felt so – unprepared. Adam turned to her, twining his fingers at the roots of her hair, pulled her head back and kissed her. His other hand wandered over her body. She responded almost immediately. “See how easy it is, Clara? How can you come here offering yourself as a slave if you prefer the touch of your own hand to your Master’s?”

Monique clearly did not share that position. Clara, watching, wondered if it was even real. No one, she thought, could come as easily and as often as that. From his hands. From his mouth. From being fucked in the pussy, in the ass, it didn’t seem to matter. “Oh, please, Adam,” Monique begged. “No more, please. I’ve come so much,” she cooed. Again that brief, hostile glance at Clara. Triumphant. Clara didn’t disagree. A clear winner had been established.

Tears were forming in her eyes. She had been jealous of the other girl before, but now she was only sorry for herself. She had such a need to submit, to surrender. She longed to be transported as she saw Monique doing. She wanted to respond to all that Adam offered; she wanted to please him as the other woman clearly was. But she had disappointed. He had given her a chance and she blown it. She saw herself leaving, exiled, sentenced to a continued search for what she was leaving behind. She sighed again.

Monique was still talking. Rubbing it in. “Oh, Adam, it’s just too much for me,” she begged. “All right,” Adam agreed. “If you’re through, you’re through. You certainly can take a lot. Let’s see what else you can take. Clara, go to the front closet and fetch any whip you like.”

* * * * *

Clara was astounded, but intrigued. She slowly moved away from the wall. “But first,” continued Adam, “Let’s begin as we hope to continue. Monique, show me how hot Clara can get. If she comes, of course, I will punish you both, but unless you let her touch there’s apparently no chance of that. Right, Clara?” – “Yes, Adam.” – “Then begin.”

Monique stroked Clara’s face gently, a sly smile never leaving her own. Clara closed her eyes. The hands touched her breasts, then wandered slowly down her body. Monique lay her on the floor and began to kiss her neck, then her breasts, taking the nipples gently into her mouth, then biting them. She began to be more rough, gathering a breast into a tight package before fitting as much of it as possible into her mouth, kneading with her hands, with her nails. As Clara’s breasts became more and more sensitive, Monique stroked her belly and thighs with the tips of her fingers, coming near to Clara’s most sensitive areas, never quite touching. Now the mouth was harsh, biting, leaving bruises, but still the fingers barely danced near Clara’s pussy. She was moaning and writhing. Monique’s mouth trailed kisses and small nips down her body.

Soon her hands were grasping Clara’s breasts, the thumbs running across her swollen nipples, nails digging in. She was biting Clara’s thighs, she was nipping the labia, she had not touched the clit once. Clara arched her back and tried to angle herself toward Monique’s mouth. Monique laughed. “Beg me, bitch.” Clara resisted momentarily. Her eyes opened and she looked at Adam, who was standing near, watching with undisguised enjoyment. He cocked an eyebrow. “Please, Monique. Please touch my clit. Please use your tongue, your fingers. Please.” – “But Clara, I’m pretty sure Adam won’t let you come. I’m starting to like you, Clara, very much. It seems so unfair to bring you so close and then disappoint you. It’s better if I just don’t touch it. Right, Clara?” – “Please, Monique. I don’t care if you never let me come. Please touch me.” – “Adam?” But Adam was silent. He was no longer smiling. His eyes were narrowed, thoughtful. For a moment both women were joined by the slight chill that enveloped them.

The moment passed. Monique laced her arms through Clara’s legs and held her hips down firmly, legs very wide. She ran the very tip of her tongue over the very tip of Clara’s clit. Clara whimpered. Monique repeated the gesture, then resumed kissing Clara’s thighs. Clara strained toward her.

“Don’t move, Clara. Don’t move at all.” Clara tried to relax her body, to experience whatever sensations Monique provided. Monique spread her labia with one hand, running a single finger firmly around the base of Clara’s clit. She didn’t dare move, rock her hips or clench her muscles, she didn’t even dare to stroke the blond head. Her abdomen tightened as she fought to keep her ass and her thighs relaxed. “Please touch me like you did before. Please touch my clit.” Again the light, teasing touch just across the top. Soon, however, Monique began to stroke her more firmly, circling the swollen nub with her thumb, inserting her fingers into Clara’s open cunt. She had two, then three, fingers inside Clara, while the thumb continued to stroke her. Now her hand was inside Clara and her mouth was on her. She moved her hand rhythmically, her fingers caressing Clara’s pussy, her cervix, finding the sensitive areas inside her. Her mouth became more urgent. Clara was close, closer. She slowly strained toward Monique’s mouth. Her breath was short, ragged. Her lips were red. Sweat gleamed between her breasts. She began to pump her hips, pushing against the now-violent mouth and hand that were driving her to incoherence.

“Stop.”

Monique pulled away suddenly, leaving Clara empty, aching and gasping. She met Clara’s eyes and contemptuously wiped her hand across Clara’s face, almost a slap, the fingers trailing through Clara’s gasping mouth.

“You were told not to move,” Adam continued. “I think we’ll discuss that later. Now, Clara, go get the whip.”