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Over the following week, Reagan found – to her delight – that sex with Alexia was even more enjoyable than it had been before.
The difference was their mutual knowledge that they were doing it for the enjoyment of Mr Riggs, and with his permission. He had told them to be good little lesbian lovers, and to be extra slutty for him, and that command seemed to remove many of their inhibitions.
Under Mr Riggs’ commands, they were keen to compliment each other regularly.
“I love the way your hair looks, Alexia,” Reagan would say – and be delighted by the blush of pleasure it elicited from her girlfriend.
“I really love the curve of your tits under that top, Reagan,” Alexia would say – and then Reagan would take the first opportunity to show Alexia what they looked like without the top in the way – and then they would start kissing, and groping, and before long Reagan would have her face between Alexia’s thighs, licking eagerly at her pussy.
Where before they had only ever fucked furtively in the darkness of Reagan’s bedroom, now they were adventurous in public. They would both go out in short skirts and no underwear, and find opportunities to covertly finger each other’s fuckholes in public. They would fuck naked in the back seat of Alexia’s car, in a darkened public car park, like they had on the night they had first been mistaken for girlfriends, and now they not only didn’t care if anyone saw them, but they kind of hoped that someone *would* see.
They fucked in the changerooms of a lingerie store. They fucked in a public toilet cubicle – in the *men’s* toilets, just for the added thrill. They fucked in the back row of a cinema, and when the man in the row in front of them turned around to look, Reagan didn’t let Alexia put her shirt on or cover up her tits, and instead just kept kissing her and fingerbanging her pussy as the man stared.
They reported each sexual interaction to Mr Riggs – what they had done, where they had done it, how many times they had orgasmed, and whether anyone had seen them. This reporting often made each of them so aroused that they had to immediately fuck again afterwards. They loved the idea that they were fucking *for* their handsome male master.
She was spending so much time with Alexia that Reagan was obligated to have a conversation with her parents, in which she explained that she was bisexual – “Yes, mom, I still like men, I’m just with a woman right now” – and that Alexia was her girlfriend. Her parents took it in stride, although with some reservations.
“I always hoped that you’d marry a nice normal man, Reagan,” her mother had said. “Maybe a teacher.”
Reagan had almost choked on the coffee she was drinking when she heard that.
“I still might, mom,” she said, blushing, when she had recovered.
She wasn’t quite ready yet to raise the idea that she was non-monogamous, though. That could wait for the future.
Mr Riggs arranged to get Alexia a job at the club. She didn’t work as many nights as Reagan – but it would allow her to be present on the premises, and take bonuses.
Bunny grumbled a little about it. “We wouldn’t normally bring a girl on just to please a single man,” she said. “But for Mr Riggs, we can make an exception.”
“Because of me?” asked Reagan.
Bunny laughed. “Oh, honey,” she said. “You don’t even know, do you?”
“Know what?” asked Reagan.
Bunny leaned in close and whispered. “Mr Riggs owns a third of this club,” she said. “As well as more than a few other businesses. Has he never told you?”
Reagan was shocked. “But… he’s just a guidance counsellor. At my school.”
Bunny shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you, Kisses,” she said. “But your man has serious money. Feel free to ask him about it… if you dare. Or maybe not. If he wanted you to know, he would have told you, right?”
Reagan didn’t know what to think. Was Mr Riggs not who she had thought he was? Why had he kept this a secret from her?
He appeared at the club on Friday night, sitting in his usual seat – and there was a bonus in the box, for Reagan and Alexia. Or rather, for “Kisses and Cuddles”.
(Reagan had given Alexia the working name of “Cuddles”, specifically for how it went with her own name, but first they had checked that Mr Riggs approved. He did.)
The bonus request read:
“I would like Kisses and Cuddles as my dinner guests. They will wear no underwear, and they will do as they are told once they are seated. $3,000, to be shared between them.”
It was the largest bonus Reagan had been offered so far – but of course she would take any command from Mr Riggs, paid or otherwise. She waited impatiently with Alexia until the evening, when the “babies” had gone home, and then she and her girlfriend both wiggled off their panties, placed them in their lockers, and headed out onto the floor nervously to see what Mr Riggs would want from them.
Mr Riggs was seated alone, by a table draped in an expensive red tablecloth. Two seats were placed opposite him, and Reagan and Alexia nervously sat in these seats.
“Hello, sir,” said Reagan, and Alexia parroted her a moment later.
“Hello, girls,” said Mr Riggs. “You both look beautiful tonight.”
They blushed.
“You know, as usual, that you can walk away at any time tonight?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” they both said. And Reagan added, “But we want to serve you, sir.”
He smiled, and placed something on the table that rattled as he moved it.
It was a pair of chain leashes – too short to be dog leashes, only a metre in length each. One end of each was a loop of black leather, to be used as a handle. One of the handles was stitched in gold thread with the name “KISSES”, and the other read “CUDDLES”. The other end of each loop was a metal clamp.
“Put these on, girls,” said Mr Riggs. “Then pass me the handles, under the table.”
Reagan looked at the leash in embarrassment. The clamp was evidently intended to attach to her in some way – but how?
Alexia verbalised her thoughts. “How do we attach it, sir?” she asked.
“The clamp goes on your clitoris, Cuddles,” said Mr Riggs, smiling.
Reagan went pale. “But… it will hurt,” she said.
“Of course it will,” said Mr Riggs. “But I promise it will not damage you. If you want to bring me pleasure, Kisses, then you need to know that from time to time it will please me to hurt you. I think it will bring you pleasure, too – both from knowing that you are pleasing me and that I approve, and, I think, from the arousal that can come from experiencing sexual pain.”
He shrugged. “But in any case, you are free to walk away at any time.”
Reagan had no intention of walking away – although the idea of putting a tight clamp on her sensitive clitoris made her eyes water.
Nervously, she took the leash from the table. She spread her legs, letting her dress ride up a little, and then reached down to attach the clamp to her clitoris.
She wasn’t surprised to find that she was already wet. The idea of serving Mr Riggs always made her aroused. She ran her fingers lightly over the bud of her clitoris, teasing it, making her gasp – and then she squeezed her clitoris, and put the clamp over it.
The pain hit immediately and her eyes went wide. She had to bite her lip to avoid swearing loudly. She had never done anything so cruel to her own clitoris. It felt like her entire body was now focused on the pain between her legs.
“You will become used to it, Kisses,” said Mr Riggs.
And he was right. The pain didn’t fade… but after that first bite, it began to seem normal. Bearable.
Blushing, she reached under the table, holding the handle of the leash. Mr Riggs’ hand met her own, and took the leash from her.
There was slack in the chain between her pussy and Mr Riggs’ hand, and she could feel its weight pulling down on her clitoris. She whimpered.
“Now you, Cuddles,” instructed Mr Riggs.
Alexia was no more keen than Reagan had been to torture herself. She looked at Reagan, to see if Reagan had regretted her choice, but Reagan only gave her a nod of permission.
Eyes closed, body tense in anticipation, Alexia clipped the clamp to her clit – and then squeaked, and clamped her legs tightly shut, her eyes wide and shocked.
“Good girl,” laughed Mr Riggs. “I like watching you hurt yourself for my pleasure. Now pass me the leash.”
She did, and soon Mr Riggs held both their leashes in one hand, beneath the table.
He gave them a soft, experimental tug, and both girls squeaked again. It was all Reagan could do to not reach down and remove the cruel clamp from her love-nub.
“Do you feel vulnerable right now, girls?” he asked them.
They both nodded emphatically.
“But that’s good, isn’t it?” said Mr Riggs. “You like feeling vulnerable, especially with me. You need it.”
It was true. And despite the pain, Reagan’s pussy was throbbing with arousal and need. She nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“When you leave here tonight, you will take these leashes with you,” said Mr Riggs. “And you will practice leading each other around on them in public. You will take turns being the leash holder, but when you are out together, one of you will always be leashed, unless you are both nude. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” they squeaked.
“Good girls,” said Mr Riggs, smiling.
He now reached under the table, and did something. When his hands returned to view, he was no longer holding the leashes – but the girls could feel by the tension on their clits that the leash ends were still restrained.
He let them think about it for a moment, and waited for them to blush as they understood. And their blush was immediately followed by a gasp, as they felt a tug on their clamps.
“The handles are looped over my cock – which you have made very hard,” Mr Riggs said. “When you do something that particularly sexually pleases me, my cock will twitch, and you will feel it in your pussies. So you will know that the pain in your clitoris is your reward for my pleasure.”
For a moment, that was a confusing thought for Reagan. She would be punished for pleasing Mr Riggs? But it resolved itself almost immediately. Clearly the pain was not a punishment – it was a reward. After all, she had come here eagerly just so that Mr Riggs could do something exactly like this to her. When she felt pain in her clit, it meant that she was doing something right.
Smiling, she adjusted the neckline of her dress, pulling it down slightly so that Mr Riggs could see more of her tits – and immediately she felt an agonising tug on her clit. So did Alexia, and both girls gasped with pain.
“Good girl,” said Mr Riggs. Then he paused, and said, “I take it that neither of you girls have played with clamps before?”
They shook their heads.
“Then here’s the thing about clamps you need to know,” he said. “They hurt a lot going on, that’s true. But as they stay on, they restrict blood flow. And when the clamp comes *off*, and all that blood rushes back in at once – well, that hurts a *hell* of a lot more than when the clamp goes on.”
It would hurt *more*? How was that possible? Reagan felt a momentary surge of panic.
“So you have that to look forward to,” said Mr Riggs, grinning. “Or rather, *I* have that to look forward to. I think your expressions are going to be completely adorable. Now, I’ve ordered some food for us, and it should be here shortly. And then we can have a little talk about the future…”
A talk about the future sounded good. Reagan wanted to know more about her future with Mr Riggs.
But she also wanted to know something else: how he had come to own a third of this club. And why he had never told her.
And though she knew it was probably a bad idea to ask – and potentially a ruinous one for their relationship – she was increasingly certain that she didn’t just want to know. She *had* to know. And she was going to ask…
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