The Surrogate Sir (Part I)

While my Sir is away, he arranged for me to be trained by Sir.S. I get to play with him and Peanut, but only if I am a good girl. I have been asked not to fuck anyone else in his absence, which is already proving to be a challenge, but I am determined to obey him. I may have to buy a sex-toy next pay day, though!

My training began on Saturday night, at a party with some people from Fet Life. Peanut came to pick me up and bring me to her house, where Sir. S was waiting. We talked and flirted in the car, then when we arrived she went and got ready and Sir. S and I had a chance to chat. We talked about hard limits, trigger words, where I am as a sub, open relationships, and the fact that we both dream of having big poly families someday.

He told me to get down on my knees and suck his cock, which I did. He had me lick up and down his shaft, and then try to deep throat. I gagged immediately but he continued to fuck my face, periodically asking me if I was okay. I murmured that I was. When Peanut came out, he asked her to show me how to deep throat. She gave me a few tips (which include sticking your tongue out just a little bit), then demonstrated effortlessly taking his sizable cock all the way down.

“Share my cock,” he said, so I got on my knees beside her and we both licked him. “Kiss her neck, Peanut.” She kissed my neck and exhaled into my ear, making me go weak as I continued to suck Sir.S. She grabbed me and kissed my lips while he stood over us, pulling my tits out of my skimpy dress and sucking my nipples. I wasn’t sure this would be okay, since he hadn’t instructed her to do this, but he seemed to enjoy it. I undid the halter on her one-piece cat suit and pinched and licked her nipples, grinding myself on her leg until I started moaning loudly. Sir. S asked if I was going to come, and I said yes. He told me to tell him when I came, so when I felt waves of pleasure rock my body I said “I’m gonna come!” I rubbed myself on her at an increasingly frantic pace until my orgasm subsided.

When I was finished, Peanut and I still sitting on the floor holding each other, Sir. S asked “Was that a real orgasm, or did you fake it?”

“I never fake it, Sir,” I said, smirking dirtily.

We all had a smoke, and then got into the car to drive to Sir. S’s place so he could get ready. Peanut and I waited in the backseat, holding hands and flirting, while he went up to his apartment and got dressed. He was back a few minutes later, dressed in a leather jacket and pants. Yum. On the drive there, we talked about the fact that he had never been with a Black woman before, and how it was one of his fantasies. I  have met a lot of men and women who share this fantasy–lucky for me!

“Well, we’ll have to do something about that,” I said lustfully.

We arrived at the party at about 8:30 (after a detour that involved getting lost and calling my Sir, who hadn’t left yet and said he might be making a late appearance at the party, for directions). We walked in together and Sir. S introduced me to those I hadn’t met yet as his “loaner sub.” I hugged and kissed people I recognized, and then we had something to eat before realizing we’d forgotten the wine in the car.

We told Sir and offered to go get it. Peanut and I held hands on the walk to the car, having girl-talk about all things sexy, then prepared to re-enter the house through the back yard. We opened the gate and Sir. S stood there with a small group, smoking. We chatted for a few minutes and then he said he was going inside.

“Okay, Sir,” we said in perfect unison. Everyone laughed. “You are such good girls,” he replied with a sexy smile, before retreating back into the house.

After another cigarette, we decided it was time to break into the wine. Peanut poured a glass for me, then one for myself, which I offered to Sir. S but he turned down. I think he wanted to remain sober in case he was called on to dominate anyone, because despite supplying the wine, he drank water all night. We mingled in the kitchen until Sir. S called us to follow him downstairs.

“Yes, Sir,” we said, and he led us down to the dungeon. In the entry area, there was a bookshelf stocked with first aid supplies–bandages, rubbing alcohol, swabs, etc. It was clear the hostess was hardcore. There were two rooms off the foyer–one was a bedroom with dim lighting, ropes, and a large bed with red silk bedspread and sheets.

The next, larger room had a brick bar, two walls of flogging tools, and a spanking bench. Peanut and I sat on it and cuddled, until Sir.S. told us to roll over. We obeyed, presenting our backsides to him, and he began to spank us with the flat of his hand. He hiked my dress up so my backside was bare as his palm connected with my skin, making it sting. It was seconds before we were both screaming erotically. Hearing the other’s arousal heightened each of our pleasure.

The dungeon had been empty, but it instantly seemed to fill. I heard someone say, “Now, why would you want music when you can listen to that?” I guess we sounded pretty hot!

The flogging seemed to go on forever. It was more than I was used to, but it pushed me to a point past pain, where I was flooded with adrenaline and endorphins. For the first time, I can honestly say, I am into pain. Not just the taboo of it, but everything. Sir. S spanked us harder and harder, and eventually I felt him roll Peanut over and heard his hand connect with what I assume was her face. I have no idea because I was face down, whimpering and gasping, until his boot collided with my ass, and then I felt him punch me.

When I had witnessed this before, at the party he’d hosted at Peanut’s, I thought it looked barbaric and couldn’t understand how she was getting off on it. Experiencing it, however, is something different. He knew exactly what he was doing–where to hit, how hard, and at what point, because at the moment I would have thought I’d have started to cry, I had an orgasm instead.

“Any tears yet?” he asked me.

“No, Sir.”

“Then maybe I haven’t been hitting you hard enough.”

“. . .I disagree, Sir.”

The room erupted into laughter.

After a few more minutes, he told us to sit up. He kissed Peanut, then me, and we were told to stand. I didn’t think I would be able to, but I managed. He wiped down the bench for us while we cuddled and kissed and stroked each other, half-watching a woman behind the bar who was having some sort of unseen sex toy bring her to orgasm.

Eventually we went back upstairs. I was struck by how hot my ass felt. It was burning. It was not unpleasant–it felt like  I’d been sitting on the heated seat of a car for an extended period of time. The rest of the party was spent eating, drinking, making friends, and ducking outside for smoke breaks. There was also a LOT of flirting.

Sir.S came up to me in the kitchen, pressed himself against me, and said filthy things to me until I was dripping.

“I can’t wait to be balls deep inside you.”

“I’m gonna teach you just how to take my big white cock.”

“I’m gonna have you on your back, wet and screaming.”

I hooked one leg around him and started to grind against him, needing him so very badly. Peanut made an appearance and he called her over, putting arm around her with his hand resting on her ass. Our eyes flitted back and forth between each other, communicating pure heat and lust, until we slowly started to exchange kisses, taking turns or kissing as three.

“You girls need to be fucked.”

(To Be Continued)

2 Comments on “The Surrogate Sir (Part I)”

  1. […] Switch and Suicide Girl leave on each other’s walls. I hate the fact that my old Dom hired Sir. S to take his new profile photos instead of me, and the fact that it appears they are best friends […]

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