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Sequel to: Aunt Jean / An Upside-down "Y" / Island.

You see, as I've said before, I have a thing for BDSM. Jack isn't as into it as I am-although he'll go along with absolutely anything and enjoy it. Even my friends who don't know about the S&M know that, sexually at least, I am a very submissive person. I love for others to be in control; I love to be at their mercy. When I decided I wanted to try my hand at dominating-letting out my "inner dominatrix," as it were-I knew it would have to be with someone I knew and trusted-someone who wouldn't laugh at me if I screwed it up, or even realize if I had. And I couldn't try to dominate Jack. I might be very liberal in most respects-I'm bisexual after all-but I have very conservative ideas about men and women's roles. Men are not to be dominated; women are. The thought of male submissives turn me off completely. That's not to say they're wrong or bad or inferior; that's just not how I get my kicks. Anyway, the obvious choice for my little experiment was my good friend Hope. Not only are we already sexually compatible, but she's always been the domineering one in bed. I thought a little role reversal might suit us quite nicely.

Which brings me to the bag I'd been carrying all evening. Jack had Hope pinned and docile on the bed, so I opened it and removed three silk scarves. I crawled up on the bed and carefully removed Hope's hands from Jack's neck. Jack was straddling her on the bed, so even though she protested, I quite easily tied her hands together and expertly attached them to the wrought iron rod at the headboard of Jack's bed. She whimpered a bit and struggled against her bonds, but Jack's talented tongue kept her subdued. I moved down the bed to her feet, and tied each one securely to a separate bedpost. She could writhe and wriggle all she wanted, but she wouldn't be getting free anytime soon. I tapped Jack on the shoulder, and he released Hope's mouth and sat back. We stopped to admire our handywork.

Hope was laid out in a semi-spread eagle position. Her pussy glistened in the lamp-light and her small breasts heaved with the heaviness of her breath. Her highly reactive nipples were standing up in little points, and her whole body was flushed. She may not like admitting it, but I had a feeling Hope enjoyed being a sub more than she'd let on. Hope is a petite thing; she stands at only five foot three and has a hot, curvy figure. Bur her face is what makes her so irrisistibly gorgeous. She's got full, pouty lips that almost put Angelina Jolie's to shame. Her eyes are brown and the adjective "doe-eyed" was invented for her. They're framed in these long, thick lashes that practically brush her rosy, high-boned cheeks when she blinks. Her face is heart shaped and her complexion smooth as cream without a single blemish. Lips parted, eyes half closed with her legs spread and hands tied above her, she looked like a porn star. A porn star that was my slave for the night.

I turned to look at Jack and could tell he was thinking the same thing I was. we were kneeling on either side of the naked Hope, and the excitement of the moment overcame me. I leaned across and brushed my lips against his.

Unable to contain the heat that had built up thus far, he plunged his tongue into my mouth and I gasped. I ran my fingernails down his chest and he reached behind me to unhook my bra. I smiled against his lips and ran my finger lower, around the waistband of his boxers. I was about to push them out of the way when we were interrupted by a movement beneath us. Hope was groaning and pulsating her hips, trying to join in on the action and find her release. I laughed at the sight.

"Well aren't you the little harlot," I commented drily, standing up from the bed and beckoning Jack to follow.

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