Turning Her Shy Friend Into My Second Submissive

Winston, sixty-two and silver at the temples, waited in the wide sitting room of his private estate while Magda led her friend inside. Magda was nineteen, his collared submissive for the past year, and she had already spent the drive explaining every rule. Annika, also nineteen and still in her first semester of college, stood just inside the door with her overnight bag clutched tight, cheeks pink and eyes lowered.

“Tell him what you agreed to,” Magda said gently, kneeling at Winston’s feet without being told.

Annika swallowed. “Magda said you are a strict Dominant. She said this weekend means watching you control her, light bondage, commands, and sex if I want it. She said I could say no to any part and leave whenever I choose. I was nervous and I still am, but I said yes because I have been curious for months. I want to see it. I want to know if I like being told what to do.”

Winston studied her calm face. “You are nineteen. You came here knowing exactly what happens in this house. Repeat that you want to stay.”

“I want to stay,” Annika whispered. “I want to watch. If I get wet and I ask, I want you to let me try one thing. Only if I ask.”

“Good girl,” Winston said. He sat in the leather armchair and patted his thigh. Magda crawled up and settled between his knees, resting her cheek on his leg. “Annika, sit on the couch. Keep your clothes on until you decide otherwise. Magda, strip to your panties and present your wrists.”

Magda obeyed at once, folding her dress neatly and offering her arms. Winston buckled soft leather cuffs, not tight, and clipped them to the short chain between her knees so she could not rise without permission. He ran a hand down her bare back. “Tell her how this feels.”

“Safe,” Magda answered, voice already husky. “Warm. My pussy is dripping because I know he owns every inch of me and I asked him to.”

Annika’s thighs pressed together. She watched Winston’s large hand slide under the waistband of Magda’s panties and cup her, two fingers sliding easily through slick folds. Magda moaned, rocking into the touch.

“Color?” Winston asked.

“Green,” Magda breathed.

He fucked her slowly with those fingers while Annika stared, lips parted. When Magda came with a soft cry, Winston licked his fingers clean and looked at the shy girl on the couch. “Your turn to speak. What do you want?”

Annika’s voice shook. “I want to kneel. Just kneel. And I want you to touch my hair while Magda tells me more.”

“Ask properly.”

“Please, sir, may I kneel for you?”

“Yes.”

She slid to the rug, trembling. Winston’s hand settled on her head, heavy and steady. Magda described, in filthy detail, how it felt to be ordered onto her knees, how the cuffs made her clit throb, how she loved being used because she had begged for it. Annika’s breathing grew ragged. She asked if she could take her sweater off. Winston said yes. She asked if she could touch herself over her pants. He said only if she kept her eyes on Magda. She did, rubbing clumsy circles while Magda talked her through the ache.

An hour passed. Annika’s questions grew bolder. Could the cuffs be tried on her wrists for one minute? Winston buckled them loosely and waited. She flexed her fingers, whispered “green,” and asked him not to take them off yet. Could he tell her to spread her knees? He did. She obeyed, face scarlet, and admitted she was soaking through her panties. Magda crawled close and kissed her cheek. “You can stop any second. Say red and everything ends. Or say you want the collar.”

Annika looked up at Winston, shy and desperate. “Please put a collar on me for tonight. I want to be yours until morning. I want you to use me the way you use her. I am asking.”

He fastened a plain leather collar around her throat, checking the fit twice. “You belong to me until you say otherwise. Both of you. On your knees. Panties off. Hands behind your backs.”

They stripped and knelt side by side, collars gleaming, nipples tight. Winston opened his pants and fed his thick cock into Magda’s mouth first. She sucked eagerly, cheeks hollowing, while he kept one hand on Annika’s collar. “Watch her take it. Touch your clit. Do not come.”

Annika’s fingers slipped between her own folds, circling fast as she stared at Magda’s lips stretched around him. Spit shone on Magda’s chin. Winston fucked her throat in slow, deep strokes, praising her for every swallow, then pulled free and turned to Annika.

“Straddle my lap. Ride me. Magda, get your mouth on her clit and tell her what she is.”

Annika climbed on, shaking, and sank down onto his cock with a broken gasp. He was thick, stretching her virgin-tight walls, and she had asked for every inch. She rocked, clumsy at first, then found the rhythm when Magda’s tongue licked broad and wet across her clit. “Our new submissive toy,” Magda moaned against her. “Sir’s second hole. Look how pretty you look stuffed full.”

Annika came once just from the words and the tongue, clenching hard around Winston while she begged to keep going. He gripped her hips and bounced her, cock driving up into her soaked pussy, until she was sobbing “yes, sir, use me.” He lifted her off, still hard, and bent both girls over the arm of the couch, asses up, collars jingling. He spanked Magda’s cheek red, then Annika’s, alternating open-handed smacks that made them yelp and push back for more. Each time they cried “harder, please,” he gave it.

He shoved into Magda first, pounding deep, then pulled out and buried himself in Annika’s tighter cunt, fucking her until her toes curled. Back and forth, never letting either of them cool, spanking the free ass while he thrust. “Beg to come.”

“Please let your toys come, sir,” Magda sobbed.

“Please, I need it, I want your cum,” Annika gasped, pushing back onto every stroke.

He fucked them both through it, switching until their orgasms crashed together, pussies fluttering and dripping down their thighs. At the last second he pulled free, stroked his cock twice, and painted both upturned faces with thick ropes of cum. They turned toward each other on command and kissed, tongues sliding through the mess, licking it from each other’s lips and chins while they shuddered through the aftershocks.

Winston wiped his hands, then fastened matching silver day-collars around both throats, locking them with small keys he pocketed. “Annika, you are my second submissive. You asked. You stay collared. Both of you serve and get used exactly as I wish.”

They curled at his feet on the rug, still naked and sticky, already whispering about morning blowjobs and who would be bent over the kitchen table first. Winston stroked their hair once, then gripped both collars and tugged their faces back toward his softening cock.

“Clean every drop off my cock with your tongues before you sleep, sluts. I own both these filthy mouths now.”