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Old 23-Oct-21, 09:33
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Default The Golden Love Triangle.

The long story which I post here has been copied, years ago, from The Walkyrie's Library and seems presently deleted. It takes place in Asia too, more precisely in Burma ; the theme is more about bargirls and femdoms than wrestling.
As it is quite long I have split it in three parts.

Golden Love Triangle
by Minim

PART - 1

“ Let there be no misunderstanding: I knew who the girls were and I knew what they did. I’d been aware of them before my wife left. Most evenings when I went into the bar they were sitting together, eyeing the men as they arrived, looking for likely prospects; one good-looking one and one plainer one, the way it often seems to be with girls.

The night she told me she was going, though, was the first night I’d spoken to either of them. I went in and sat on my own with my beer, and maybe it was a quiet night, or maybe something about me looked different, or maybe she just needed to keep in practice, but after a while the good-looking one began to walk to the door and back every so often, as if she was looking impatiently for a friend to arrive.
She wasn’t, of course; she was giving me a good look at her as she passed close in front of me in bothdirections. She was making sure I noticed her legs; she was showing a lot of them, from the high heels to the yellow miniskirt. They were worth noticing; supple, strong, sinuous, sexy. The rest of the package was good-looking, too; if they weren’t padded, she had unusually large breasts for an Asian.

We went on pretending for a while - I that I hadn’t noticed her display; she said that it wasn’t me she was putting it on for - but after the fictional friend hadn’t shown up for the fourth time she changed to a more direct approach. Stopping directly in front of me, and turning to face me, she spoke directly to me.
I actually forget what her opening line was, but the intention was clear. She knew she had my attention, and she let me know I had hers; how interested was I?

Well, given what was going on in my life, I was interested enough, so I invited her to sit with me and we began talking. She was Seetha, and she was hot. I was expecting to be lonely, and she was very ready to help fill the gap; in fact for 50,000 kyat (about $40 US) she was willing to take me into the toilets and give me a good seeing to then and there. Call me a hopeless Romantic, but that didn’t actually appeal. I explained to her that what I was looking for was more a relationship than a quickie. That amused her; she said :
“You mean you would like me to be your girlfriend? Or your wife?”
“I had in mind more a mistress” I said.

She asked me to explain, and I told her that I dreamed of being enslaved and owned by a dominant woman; she looked capable to me of making my fantasy a reality. She thought a little about this, looking into my eyes as if trying to read my mind; how sincere was I? What sort of an arrangement could we make? She made up her mind. “OK” she said :
“Let’s start. As my slave you have to pay for my drinks tonight; before you leave. All right?”
“Yes, mistress” I agreed. “And my taxi fare home you will give me now - 20,000 Kyats.”
That was a lot, but I knew taxi fares went up steeply after dark; I pulled out my wallet and gave her the money.
“Now you kneel in front of me.”
“What?”
“You very bad slave. I give you order, and you question it. On your knees!”
Her tone was commanding. Self-consciously I got on the floor. Actually it wasn’t as humiliating as it might have been. Aside from her friend, still at the bar, there was no-one there except for the bar staff themselves. I knelt in front of her. She eased one foot out of its shoe and extended it towards me. As I said, her cute little miniskirt didn’t cover much; virtually her whole elegant leg was mine to admire.
“Kiss my foot, slave.”
I took her foot in my hands and lowered my mouth to it, kissing enthusiastically.This woman was entering into the role of mistress; the least I could do was reciprocate by enjoying being her slave.
“Lick it, slave.”
I did so; her feet tasted noticeably of the inside of her shoes.
“Suck my toes, slave.”
I did so; she was wearing bright red nail polish, and I hoped it was suck-proof!
“Now the other foot, slave.”

To bring it within my reach she uncrossed her legs, giving me an eyeful of startlingly bright green panties. I repeated the processes of kissing, licking and sucking. Over her shoulder I could see that her friend was enjoying the spectacle, while the bar staff were pretending hard not to watch.
“Stop now, slave.”

She lowered both feet to the floor, and took my head in her hands. We gazed into each others’ eyes for a long moment; again I wondered if she was trying to read my mind. What else could she demand of me? Abruptly she pulled my head into her crotch, swinging those magnificent legs I had been admiring up over my shoulders, fastening me in place at her feet and clamping my neck between her powerful thighs. As she held my face against her panty-clad pussy I could smell and feel the dampness of her excitement. Clearly I was expected to respond, but the only movement I could make was with my tongue. I licked feverishly as she humped my face. I could hear her gasps; what must her audience think? She thrust me away.
“Not bad, slave, for your first attempt. Now fetch me a drink.”

She indicated her glass, on the bartop next to her friend. I got up clumsily, conscious of the wet stain on the front of my trousers, and walked unsteadily towards the bar. It occurred to me that I didn’t know what Seetha drank, so I asked her friend. She looked me full in the face; there was the hint of a smile in her lips and in her eyes. I realised it was probably because she had just seen my face stuck up her friend’s skirt.
“Myanmar beer” was the answer.
I got one for myself, too, to wash away the taste of Seetha’s feet, toes and panties. Her friend indicated her glass, so I bought her a refill as well. If I was going to be a slave I might as well do the job properly.
By the time I left the bar, at about 10, I thought we had the beginnings of an agreement. My new mistress would come to my apartment on Sunday afternoon, and we’d explore the mistress/slave relationship a little more.

Sunday came, but Seetha didn’t. After a couple of hours I gave up on her and started getting ready to go out. I ran into her almost immediately on the street, though, so I invited her back to my apartment for a drink. She was all for continuing where we’d left off on Thursday night, but there was too little time before my next appointment. She was eager to get into the bedroom and into action, but I explained that we needed time; I was
looking for a real relationship, not just a frenzied few minutes.
I’d see her in the bar again on Wednesday. But I didn’t, because she wasn’t there. Nor on Thursday. A whole week went past. And another. On the Wednesday of the second week, when Seetha still wasn’t there, her friend took the initiative and came to sit with me. Was I lonely? Was I looking for Seetha?
She was non-committal about Seetha’s whereabouts; they didn’t live close to each other and didn’t have mobile‘phones. She couldn’t answer my questions, and began instead to ask some of her own. What was it that attracted me to Seetha? I started to explain the mistress/slave fantasy. Ah, yes; she had seen how Seetha made me serve her. Did I enjoy that? Did I want a strong woman in my life?

“Yes” I confessed; I dreamed of living as the slave of a woman who could make me submit to her.
“I can be that woman for you” she said.

She had taken me completely by surprise. I wanted her help in finding her friend; I hadn’t expected her to make a move on me herself. Wasn’t that disloyalty, or something? I looked in her eyes. She looked steadily back at me, the hint of a smile on her face. Oh, come on; this was silly. This was the plain-looking girl, and she was surely too small. In her heels, Seetha was not far short of my height; her friend barely came to my shoulder. How could she expect to dominate me? I voiced the thought. She put a clenched fist up to my face, showing me some impressive arm muscles behind it. She flexed them for me. OK, so she’d be a lightweight, but perhaps a strong lightweight and she was here, unlike her friend, and she was keen.
“What is your name?” I asked.
“You may call me Soo Soo” she replied.
I had no intention of calling her that; in her language it means piss. Why would she demean herself with such a nickname? She dodged the question, telling me only that it was easier for foreigners to say than her real name. I didn’t find Bamar names difficult to pronounce, so I asked her to tell me her real name, which was San Thidar. I repeated it back to her satisfaction.
We began to negotiate. Fortunately, she didn’t insist on a repeat of Seetha’s performance; she was very happy to keep her domination of me for the privacy of my own apartment. And as neither of us wanted to wait until the weekend; we agreed that she’d begin her rule over me the following evening. We’d meet at the bar, and I’d take her home with me afterwards. I paid both our bar tabs and gave her 20,000 kyats for her fare home. Unlike her friend Seetha, she kept our appointment. She was already seated at the bar when I arrived the following evening. She gave me a big smile and a wave, and got off her stool to come over and give me a kiss and a hug. She had to reach up and pull my head down to kiss me, so I appreciated the gesture and hugged her
warmly in return.
We ate dinner together like a couple of lovers, then I picked up her overnight bag and we walked across the road and round the corner to my place. We hugged in the lift, and held hands all the rest of the way. I was beginning to think quite highly of this woman’s potential as a mistress. As I closed the door behind us, she leapt at me. Arms round my neck, legs around my waist, and tongue probing urgently, she gave me a definite hurry-up. I carried her through to the bedroom and laid her down on her back. She was indeed a lightweight; it was a treat to carry her. She was also strong; she made no move to release her hold around my waist, but simply held on and squeezed. Then she swung her body sideways, bringing me down onto the bed beside her, still clasped firmly in her grip. One of my arms was now pinned underneath her. She took my free wrist in one hand and rolled us still further; I was now underneath. She was seated astride my waist and she quickly captured my other hand and pinned both to the mattress beside my ears. Leaning forward and stretching out her legs, she hooked my calves with her feet and forced my legs apart. I was helpless. I tried to raise my arms off the mattress and push her up, but I could make no headway at all. This astonished me. She was so light, and yet she was strong enough to prevent my resisting at all.
“You wanted strong woman. Here I am. Strong enough?”
“Yes!” I assured her.
“Sure?”

She forced my legs further apart, and pushed my arms further beyond my head. I was now stretched out sufficiently to feel some discomfort. I had doubted this petite woman’s ability to dominate me; now I doubted that I could take all the punishment she could dish out! There was determination written on her face; she was out to make me feel completely helpless.

After holding me for long enough to make her point, she relaxed, flopped down onto me and began kissing me. I kissed her back enthusiastically. We lay together for a while, kissing, cuddling, stroking. I let her lead; afterall, she was the mistress, and she had just demonstrated that she could destroy me in a fight. So when she unfastened my trousers and put her hand inside my pants I took it as an invitation to explore her sex as well. It was a mistake. Taking my probing hand in both of hers, she twisted my arm quickly and smoothly behind my back, turning me face down on the bed. Straddling my waist, she let go of my arm and cupped both hands under my chin, then leaned backwards and pulled my head off the bed, bending my back cruelly. I squawked a wordless protest, and she let me go. Leaning forward, she put an arm around my neck and began to choke me.
“I am mistress. Yes?”
“Yes, San Thidar” I gasped. “You are my mistress.”
“You are slave?”
“Yes, San Thidar. I am your slave.”
“Your body belong to me. My body not belong to you.”
“Yes, San Thidar. I am very sorry. Please forgive me.”
She climbed off me, and got off the bed. Taking my hand, she indicated that I should get off the bed, too. Without words she led me into the bathroom. My trousers fell down on the way, so I stepped out of them. In the bathroom, she unfastened my shirt, and indicated that I should finish undressing. She quickly undressed too, and led me into the shower.
There was plenty of room for us both. She turned on the flow, adjusted the temperature, and handed me the soap. Clearly I was to be her lady’s maid. I began gently soaping her. I enjoyed the experience; her petite frame was well put together, and she clearly kept in shape - good enough shape to overpower me, anyway. I soaped her back from the neck downwards to her bottom, then moved to her front and began at the throat. I soaped her arms and hands, kissing her fingers in homage. I soaped her chest; like many Asian women, she had tiny breasts, really little more than dark nipples that stood out from the surrounding pale flesh. I paid them homage, too, licking them and taking them into my mouth. I soaped her firm stomach. I continued down to her pubic hair.
“Kneel” she said, and I went down on my knees.

Raising her right leg, she placed her foot on my shoulder, steadying herself by taking my head with both hands. I soaped her leg from foot to crotch. She made no objection to my soaping between her legs. Still holding my head, she changed legs and I repeated the process. When she put her left leg down again I lowered my head and kissed both her feet. She sat down on my shoulders and enjoyed the water flowing over us both for a while,then got up and went to get her towel. I quickly washed myself, then went to her and took the towel, gently rubbing her dry. I dried myself as she brushed her teeth, then brushed my teeth as she dressed for bed.
I wasn’t sure what she intended for the sleeping arrangements. There was a spare bedroom, but no; she wanted us in the same bed. That was fine. I let her choose sides, then got in myself and put out the light. I made
no move to touch her; the initiative was clearly with her as the mistress. She made no move either, and I fell asleep.”

To be continued next…
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Last edited by pinayfan; 23-Oct-21 at 10:02.
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Old 23-Oct-21, 11:12
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Default Re: The Golden Love Triangle.

The Golden Love Triangle.

PART - 2

“ I awoke in the dark, aware of her hand between my legs. She was playing with my penis as if it were a car’s gear-stick, and I was becoming very erect. Almost immediately she was on top of me. As when we wrestled, she hooked my legs and forced them apart, grasped my wrists and pinned them firmly to the bed. Then she unhooked my legs and forced her knees between mine, forcing my thighs apart so that my unguarded penis was
available for her to take between her thighs. It occurred to me, far too late, that she might very well be HIV positive. I hadn’t begun a relationship like this before; how did one approach the question? She must have read my mind; perhaps the anxiety caused some tension in my body? Perhaps she’d been in the same situation enough to know what went through a man’s mind? Anyway, she made to reassure me:
“Not worry. I not take you inside me. Enough for me hold you, and ride you.”

And ride me she did, gently at first, but increasingly roughly as she became moist, sliding deliciously against my rod as she increased the tempo. She was totally in control; I could do no more than turn my head from side to side and moan my submission as she brought me to my own unavoidable climax, then continued to ride me forcefully while my erection subsided. She had expertly fulfilled my fantasy of being taken by force by a completely dominant woman. I wanted to cover her magnificent body with kisses and pledge myself to be her slave for life. For now, though, I was pinned under her as she went to sleep on top of me.

I must have dropped off, too, as my alarm definitely woke me. I rolled her off me and began to get out of bed. I was stopped by a muscular arm fastening itself around my throat. She hauled me down again and straddled me, pinning my arms firmly. She sat high on my chest, stretching my wrists way over my head, and placed her feet in my groin, clasping my genitals with them. It was an erotic hold; with my legs over the side of the bed I could gain no leverage with them, and my arms were useless. I was completely at her mercy.She leaned right forward, putting still more pressure on my outstretched arms, and placed her stomach over my face. I hadn’t really thought of a woman’s stomach as a focus of attention, but since hers was so ideally placed I began to kiss and lick it. As she lowered herself still further, though, I became concerned. I couldn’t breathe! The soft firm flesh was surrounding my nose and mouth, and covering them so effectively that they acted as a seal. When I tried to breathe in her skin closed against me and I got nothing at all.
I had never felt so helpless. I was totally incapable of breaking the hold of a much smaller woman who was simultaneously smothering me with her stomach and masturbating me with her feet. So much for the weaker sex!
She let me up before I lost consciousness, and I fetched her breakfast. I had wondered whether she would be content to depart as I went to work, but she raised no objection, saying that she needed to get home. I looked at
her as we stood by the door, ready to depart. She was tiny, but she was magnificent. Unbidden, I knelt and kissed her feet, which she had used so effectively on me just a short time before. Then I nuzzled her tummy before standing and bending to kiss her lips. I gave her twenty thousand Kyats for the taxi. She could probably get home for five, but I wanted her to see me as generous; I wanted her to come back.
“Thank you, San Thidar” I said “for a wonderful night. You are a wonderful mistress, and I am very happy to be your slave.”

She gave me her bewitching smile. OK, she was no beauty, but she had shown that she could fulfil my fantasy. I wanted to be hers, and worship her as my owner.
“I will be here on Sunday” she promised. “Two o’clock. Be ready - or else!” And she extended her hand for me to kiss.

Through the next two days it was as if I were walking on air. I had found the woman of my dreams, and all was right with the world. I went around with a happy smile on my face, and a silly rhyme going through my head:,
“Soo Soo, I’m so so in love with you-ou”.
I still wouldn’t dream of calling her Soo Soo to her face, but it was easier to rhyme than San Thidar. Was I really in love? Perhaps it was just an infatuation, but it was wonderful, and it had been a long time since I had felt so strongly about a woman.

Sunday arrived, eventually, and I fussed about, making myself as clean, tidy and smart as I could, wanting to be my best for my lady. Promptly at two I got a call from reception: there was a lady to see me; should they send her up?
“Certainly” I replied, as calmly as I could; I was really excited at the prospect of seeing her again. I put the ‘phone down, ran out of my door and down the corridor to the elevators, so as to be ready to greet her as she stepped out.
The door opened, and there she was. Her face lit up in return as she saw me standing opposite her, and she walked into my arms and held her face up to be kissed. I put both my arms round her and carried her back up the corridor, our mouths glued firmly together all the way. Through the door, across the lounge, into the bedroom and onto the bed I carried her, her tongue firmly entering my mouth and thrusting my own tongue aside as she began immediately to reassert her domination. On the bed she turned the kiss into a rough and brutal penetration, her teeth joining in the ravaging of my willingly submissive mouth. I was already erect with
the anticipation of belonging to her for the whole of the rest of the day. She began unfastening my clothes; why on earth had I thought it important to dress for her? I should have realized that my nakedness was what she required! But then I could hardly have met the elevator unclothed; suppose she had not been alone! Having removed all my upper garments without breaking contact, she ended the kiss in order to strip me completely. Sitting firmly on my chest, she produced from her handbag two strips of black material, and proceeded to fasten them around my wrists. Then she looped the ends through the metal bed-frame and tied them together. I was now her captive, and could offer no resistance as she turned her back
to me and began to unfasten my trousers.

The next hour or so was spent in a delicious tease-torture session. Entirely under her control, I answered her questions about myself, my life, my work, my interests, and personal details about myself: my feelings, my wishes.... If she didn’t like an answer, or if she did (how was I to know?), sensitive areas were pinched, twisted, tickled, or probed in any way that amused her. Then I was made to kiss and lick hands and fingers, wrists and elbows, forearms and biceps, feet and toes, ankles, calves, knees and thighs. She removed her upper
garments and made me kiss her entire upper body. When I say she made me, of course I don’t mean to imply that I was reluctant; I was thrilled to be in her power, and to be given the opportunity to express my admiration. I took each tiny nipple into my mouth and sucked it enthusiastically, wrapping my tongue around it and giving it a fervent licking. When she presented her stomach for my worship I did have a moment’s apprehension; was she again going to smother me? If so, I had no defence. Her mind, though, was moving in another direction. Removing her skirt and panties, she forced me to take the panties into my mouth as a gag. I didn’t know why she wanted me gagged, but she went off, completely naked now herself, and must have gone into the kitchen, since she came back with ice cubes from my freezer, which she proceeded gleefully to apply to my body. My protests were muted by her panties stuffed in my mouth. She knew perfectly well what she was doing to me, and she was entirely happy to keep doing it.

After the ice had all melted - mostly on me - she went back to the kitchen. Freed from her supervision, I explored the knots binding my wrists, and discovered that I could undo them. I disguised as best I could the fact
that my arms were now free, draping the strips of material over them. San Thidar didn’t appear to notice anything as she returned, carrying a cup of tea.

My idea of ambushing her had to be abandoned; I didn’t want tea splashed everywhere, or the cup dropped. I lay still, pretending complete submissiveness, as she sat by my side, holding her cup in one hand as she stroked my face gently with the other. She rested the cup briefly on my chest, my stomach, my thigh, letting me feel the heat where previously I had felt the cold of the ice. In each case, though, she moved her cup to another
location when I moaned through the gag.

My chance came when she finished her tea, turned and put the cup on the bedside table. For a moment her eyes were focussed on placing her cup, and I quickly pulled my unfastened arms through the bed-frame and turned onto my side, throwing my arms around her as I pulled up my legs to get some purchase. It was the first time I had had her at a disadvantage, but I had to make it tell; she was fit and strong, and very quick. I tried to use her body as a lever to help me get to my feet, but she fell back onto the bed alongside me. I had her arms pinned, with her back to me, but couldn’t think of any brilliant way of capitalising. Perhaps if I got one leg over her I could get on top? Unfortunately she was thinking, too. As I put my leg over her, she rolled towards me, and with her legs spread between mine she bounced herself on top of me. Rocking from side to side didn’t work; my own legs, forced out by hers, prevented my turning us over. Still, although I was underneath, I still had her folded tightly in my arms. The situation was at least even; I just couldn’t see a way of improving the odds.

She could. After resting for a moment or two – and probably working out that I had no idea what to do next - she moved quickly, picking up her knees as she planted her feet flat on the bed between my thighs, and levering her whole body forcefully up against mine. She generated sufficient force to break my grip, and her bottom ended up high on my chest. While I was still trying for a new hold, she got into a sitting position and slid still further up so that her bottom was against my chin; she captured my ineffective arms, took them by the wrists, and placed them both in my crotch, holding them there as she sat in triumph on her defeated slave. She laughed.
“Soo Soo too strong for weak man.”

She got up and sat down facing me, my chin now in her crotch, brushed by her pubic hair; her thighs squashed my face as she flexed her muscles. I raised my arms towards her shoulders, but she took my wrists again and pinned them beside my ears. She was totally dominant.
“I sit on face?” she asked; “You like that?”

Her panties were still in my mouth; I could only mumble wordlessly. It made no difference; I was completely at her mercy. She chose to interpret my answer as declining the invitation, and instead began to wriggle on my throat, her cute little bottom grinding from side to side, forwards and backwards, as she continued to pin my wrists firmly.
“I ride you” she said. “You my horse, my donkey, my mule.”

I was whatever she wanted me to be. I was her captive, her helpless victim, her pathetic slave – and I was enjoying the experience as I had never enjoyed anything so much before. I wanted her never to stop, to make me her favourite plaything and play with me all the time. She got off me.
“Move down bed” she ordered.
I obeyed promptly. Swiftly and efficiently she moved back on top of me, straddling my chest and pinning my wrists far beyond my head. Gripping my genitals with her feet, she leaned forward over my face. It was tummy-worship time again. I was afraid of her, and she knew it. Down came her tummy over my face, closing off the air supply. I could do nothing. She stopped, though, raising herself off me in order to remove her panties from my mouth; then immediately covered me again. Desperately I attempted to kiss and lick; perhaps she would have mercy on me? No such luck. Calmly she fastened me securely under her and smothered me with her smooth tummy.

I must have been out for a little while; the room was darker when I awoke. San Thidar was stroking my face gently. I put all the love I could find into my eyes and gazed at her. This wonderful woman had come to me by accident, by default, but she was all that I had dreamed of, and I realised that deep down I worshipped her. I would do anything in my power for her.
“Time to get ready for dinner, my slave” she said.
“Yes, my mistress” I obediently replied.

She was already in a silken top and a long skirt that reached to her ankles; she looked very demure and quite elegant. I put on a smart shirt and a good pair of trousers and we took the elevator down to the second floor, where there was a Japanese-style restaurant. The doorman knew me, but made no remark about my arrival with San Thidar; he simply welcomed her as he would any female guest, and fussed about seating her at a table that met with her approval. I merely followed and let her decide for herself. I deferred to her choice of food and wine, and savoured her choices, enjoying the view of my mistress opposite me as we dined. She rested her feet on top of mine, perhaps to remind me she was boss, though such a reminder was strictly unnecessary.

After eating, we danced, holding each other tightly as I let her steer me round the floor, her knee inserted between my legs to indicate control. She was good, and she made me feel good. The band gave us a string of slow sentimental numbers and I was content to let her weave her magic around me.Back in the apartment, she was a tigress. Even with her share of the wine inside her, she was entirely focused on her goal – the reduction of her slave to total compliant submission. I was willing enough, I thought, but she used her body to subdue me and her teeth to excite me. I was hers, owned and ruled, and if I had wanted to resist it would have been impossible. I was taken, used, possessed, and finally, when we were both exhausted, permitted to sleep pinned underneath my dormant mistress, my legs parted on either side of her to help keep her in her rightful place on top of me. She rode me a couple of times more during the night, each time falling back on me and returning to sleep. As the sky began to lighten she got up, showered and dressed, kissed me goodbye and left.
I spent three days in a dream. Certain now that she would return to claim me as hers on Wednesday evening, I floated through my days as if on fluffy clouds.
So on Wednesday I went over to the hotel in plenty of time, with a big smile on my face. The waitress who brought my drink smiled at me sweetly.
“San Thida come soon?” she asked.
“Yes” I replied confidently.
“San Thida nice girl” she told me quietly;
“Much better for you than Seetha”. Seetha drink too much; behave bad.”

This was something I hadn’t known. Still, I was very happy with San Thida; I didn’t need to concern myself with Seetha. San Thida came arrived soon afterwards, and the evening followed its anticipated course. We dined as a courting couple might, then went back to my apartment and resumed our mistress-slave relationship. I had bought her a blouse, and she put it on; we were both very pleased with it. She wore it as she wrestled me into submission, and pressed it against me as she smothered me. She didn’t stay the night, but promised to meet me the following evening. It was the following evening that Seetha reappeared.”

To be continued next…
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Old 23-Oct-21, 14:37
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Default Re: The Golden Love Triangle.

The Golden Love Triangle.

PART - 3

“ I had arranged to meet in the bar beforehand with three or four friends; we were planning a function, and it seemed appropriate to do it informally over a drink or two before dinner. So we were seated round one of the low tables when she entered and took a seat at the bar, across from where I was; if I looked over the heads of our group I couldn’t miss her. From the moment she sat down she turned on her bar-stool to face me, and gazed at me as if hypnotizing me into looking at her; whenever I did she gave me a big smile and blew me a kiss. I tried to look at her as little as possible, but she wasn’t easy to ignore. A red miniskirt this time, but the same mesmerising view of her magnificent legs.

Our meeting was still going when the buffet was set out, so we stood up and went to help ourselves. Going to the buffet I didn’t have to pass the bar, but the way back was impeded by the crush of people around the food, and the queue, so I attempted to pass the bar. For a moment I thought I might get past without incident, but without looking at me she put a hand in between my legs and pinched my inside thigh, hard. I wrenched free, hurting, and continued to my seat. She was gazing at me again.

San Thida arrived. She could see that our meeting was continuing – I’d told her it might – so she didn’t come to me. She went to the opposite end of the bar from Seetha. As far as I could see, they didn’t acknowledge each other, which seemed odd; I’d thought them close friends. We finished our planning, and our food. The others got up to leave, and I rose with them as we said goodbye. I sat down again, and immediately Seetha jumped on me; legs astride me, arms thrown tightly around my head and neck, thrusting her impressive bosom into my face. Resistance was difficult, but I put my hands on her shoulders and pushed. She unwound her arms, took my wrists and forced them back behind the chair, and clamped her mouth over mine in a massive kiss. Then she went back to smothering me with her chest as she began speaking.

“So, slave, you pleased to see me? I go away long time; you miss me; I back; you serve strong mistress again. She was grinding herself against my crotch and my face at the same time, and with my arms firmly under her control I wasn’t putting up much of a fight. Then, abruptly, she got up.
“I need drink” she said; “Wait here”.

Of course, I didn’t. As she turned I grabbed my purse and made for the door out into the corridor. I made it about five paces down the corridor before she caught me, slammed me against the wall, thrust her thigh in between mine, and forced her tongue into my mouth. She was unbelievably strong; I couldn’t get her face off mine, and I couldn’t get away from the pressure from her thigh; she was effectively masturbating me as she
pinned me against the wall. When she stopped for air, though, I managed to gasp :
“Need toilet”.
Straight away she stood back, taking me by my left arm and walking me quickly down the corridor. When we reached the toilets, though, she turned us into the first door, the ladies’.
“No” I protested; “Not that one; men’s.”
Ignoring me, she steered me on through the door and into the ladies’. Quickly she unfastened my trousers, and pushed me into the first cubicle. She wouldn’t let me close the door; I held my pants up with one hand as I peed. I flushed. She took me by the back of my collar and yanked me firmly backwards and onto the floor, where she quickly completed the job of removing my trousers. I attempted to interfere, which earned a rapid reprisal; she turned round and sat down heavily on my chest, and began slapping my face, hard. I tried to get my hands in the way; she took my wrists and stretched them out while she bounced her bottom up to sit on my face. Grinding me under her, mashing my head into the tiled floor, she deprived me of breath for long enough to make me despair of resisting, then turned round again and removed my briefs while I was still trying to draw breath. She took a fistful of hair and hauled me to my feet, then sat me on top of the toilet seat, straddling me to keep me in place. Wrapping my belt tightly around my elbows, she drew the buckle around the water pipe and fastened it.Taking my hair again, she forced my face up to look at hers.
“I go pay bill, then come back. You wait. I take trousers.” She rolled them up, and did just that, twirling my underpants around a finger as she left.I was sitting in an open cubicle of a women’s toilet, naked from the waist down, clearly visible to any woman who came in, bound by the arms to prevent my taking any kind of action to prevent such discovery. Seetha was going to return and escort me back to the apartment, and I could expect no mercy from her; total and brutal domination was definitely on her mind.
The door opened; San Thida came in. She saw me at once and came straight to me. She discovered the belt, and started to unfasten me. Seetha came back just as my arms were freed.
There was a long pause; we stood silently looking at each other.It didn’t look as if either woman knew what to say to the other. Seetha was obviously surprised to see San Thida with me; San Thida was shocked at Seetha’s
treatment of me. I thought perhaps it was for me to speak first.
“Seetha,” I began “You went away and left.”
I was interrupted by a furious torrent of Bamar from Seetha, clearly directed not to me but to San Thida, who replied, when she got the chance, in the same language. Neither seemed to care whether I understood. Finally Seetha turned to me.
“So you with Soo Soo now?”
I nodded. I knew she would see it as a betrayal, and did not dare point out that I had felt deserted by her.
“My friend Soo Soo?” Again I nodded. “You fuck her?”
I hesitated; it wasn’t a phrase I would have used, and I guess the crudeness of it made me pause. San Thida answered for me
“Yes” she said, quietly.
I was surprised at the lie, but I wasn’t going to argue. If San Thida wanted Seetha to think we had gone that far, she must have reasons. Unable to fathom the workings of the female mind, I had to trust her.
Seetha seemed to accept what she was told, though she clearly wasn’t impressed. Silently she gestured to me to stand, and handed me my pants and trousers. I put them on; I also didn’t trust myself to speak. San Thida handed me the belt she was still holding, and I put it on.
Still no-one said anything. Seetha took my arm, quite forcefully, and pulled me to the door. San Thida followed. We walked out of the ladies’, down the corridor, down the main staircase, and out onto the street. In silence we walked back to the apartment block. The receptionist handed me my key and, still without a word, we got into the elevator and rode up to my floor. Seetha took my key and let all three of us into the apartment. We stood for a moment, the two women facing each other, no-one saying anything.

The force with which Seetha smacked my face knocked me sideways. Confident that I was out of things for a moment or two, she immediately turned on San Thida, and as my head cleared from the shock I saw that she had the smaller woman’s hair in her hands and was forcing her head down, bending her double. San Thida, wailing, was trying tear Seetha’s grip loose, but all she achieved was to tear at her own hair. She fell to her knees in front of the larger woman, who swung a leg over her neck and applied a standing scissors hold, turning in the process to face me.
“So you not wait for me. You fuck my friend.” It was not a question.
“Seetha, I didn’t know where you were. I thought you had left me” I replied.
“You not wait for me” she repeated. “You not good slave.” She tugged San Thida’s head up into her crotch and flexed her thighs; the poor girl wailed again.
“Please, Seetha, don’t hurt San Thida. It isn’t her fault.”
“She take my slave; fuck my slave.” She squeezed again. San Thida was sobbing now.
“Seetha, please stop. Let her go. Take me instead.”
She looked at me with that probing expression she had used at our first encounter. I felt she was asking herself
“Shall I take you up on that?” She said “Take off clothes.”
I did so, conscious of the two pairs of eyes inspecting me. When I was naked in front of them, she asked
“You have rope?”
I did; there was a length of cord I kept as an indoor clothes line in case of rain. I fetched it.
“Hold hands together” she ordered, and she bound my wrists tightly together with one end of it. She released the still sobbing San Thida, who was in no condition to defend herself, and bound her wrists with the other end, then wrapped a loop around her ankles, leaving her lying immobile on the floor as she untied me and ushered me into the bedroom.

The beating that followed was brutal, merciless – punishment for what she saw as my unfaithfulness. San Thidar’s strength had surprised me; Seetha’s was a revelation. She worked me over ruthlessly, her magnificent legs trapping and crushing me, her powerful arms pulling, twisting and choking. I rarely had any breath to plead with her, but she ignored me anyway. Occasionally she would pause, as if considering her next attack, but always with me locked tightly between her muscular thighs, or pinned under her, or with both wrists wrenched firmly up between my aching shoulder-blades.
At last, when my whole body felt wrung out, and I was gasping for air, she settled astride my throat, my wrists pinned beside my ears. Slowly and patiently she took me with one hand by the hair, and raised my head sufficiently to allow her to clamp my neck between her fearsome thighs.
“Soo Soo say she fuck you.” She said. “True?”
I still didn’t know why San Thida had told the lie, but I took it she had her reasons. It was certainly true that she had said so.
“Yes” I whispered.
She squeezed me briefly, terrifyingly, with her thighs, then abruptly climbed off me.
“So, Soo Soo own your dick” she said; “Seetha take face.”
She mounted my face and began to ride me. It was immediately obvious that the only reason she had dismounted in the first place had been to remove her panties.I was incapable of any response; I could only breathe because she allowed me to, raising herself off me occasionally to permit me a panicked gasp of air before resuming her rough ride. My purpose became simply to survive the experience of being ridden; her grip on my hair, holding my head captive beneath her, kept me completely dependent on her mercy for the right to stay alive as the instrument of her pleasure.
The ride seemed interminable, but at last she reached a halt, and dismounted.
Without a word she left the bedroom. I lay still, exhausted, at last able to breathe of my own volition.
Seetha returned, leading San Thida, wrists still bound with my clothes line. She was no longer crying, though her eyes were red and her cheeks tear-stained. Seetha unfastened San Thidas' skirt, and pulled down her panties. She helped her step out of them, then told her to climb onto the bed. It wasn’t easy with her hands tied, but Seetha helped her; she then assisted her to mount me. My heart went out to my poor mistress, astride me for the first time (though her torturer did not know it), but not at liberty to enjoy the experience of having me beneath and inside her. I put all the love I could into the look I gave her.Eye contact was abruptly broken. Seetha reverse facesat me, robbing me of sight and sound. Of my remaining senses, my taste and smell were entirely at her command, imprisoned by her vagina. My remaining contact with San Thida was focused entirely through my penis, held firmly by her pelvic muscles as she rode me. I could visualize the picture we would present to an observer in the room – myself as the base of a triangle, with the two women as the sides; one my loved mistress, the other our mutual captor. The hierarchy was clear, and I occupied the bottom place in it, literally as I was under the bottoms of both the women.”

THE END
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