We Swapped Underwear in Front of Our Owner

The living room was steeped in warm half-light, that low lighting He preferred for watching us. He said darkness made us more honest, that hiding a little loosened our tongues and the rest of us. Vera and I moved slowly across the rug, side by side, measuring every gesture like two trained animals who knew by heart the hand that fed them. And the hand was there, still, resting on the armrest of the armchair.

He watched us without moving. He had a habit of remaining motionless for whole minutes, elbows on his knees, assessing us like someone inspecting merchandise he had just bought. He didn't need to say anything. Silence was already an order, and we obeyed it by filling it with whatever we imagined He wanted to see.

—I want to see something new —He said suddenly.

His voice wasn't loud. It never was. But it reverberated through the room as though He had slammed His fist on the table. I raised my eyes, searching His face, trying to read exactly what «something new» meant, how much leeway He was giving me, where the line lay that night.

—You've shown yourselves to be very obedient —He continued—. But I already know that. I want you to surprise me. To show yourselves for real. To touch each other like two hungry whores, not like two good girls.

Vera, beside me, toyed with the edge of her skirt without daring to look straight at Him. She was the newer of the two, the shyer one, and precisely for that reason the one He liked best when she let go. She turned her head toward me, waiting. She always waited for me to take the initiative, to translate the Master's desires into something concrete she could follow. That was my function there: to be the one who understood first.

And an idea began to form in my mind.

I leaned toward her slowly, as if I were going to kiss her, but instead brushed her ear with my lips.

—I've thought of something —I whispered—. Let me guide you and trust me.

My voice was barely a thread, calculated so only she would hear it. I saw her eyes light up with a mixture of curiosity and fear, that sweet fear she always had before obeying something that embarrassed her. I knew the next step would place both of us on different ground in front of Him, and that was exactly what I was after.

I brought my hands to the edge of my own skirt and lifted it with deliberate slowness, making sure He didn't miss a thing. The fabric rose until my white panties were visible, that plain cotton He so liked to see on us. My fingers moved over the fabric, unhurried, pressing a little right over my cunt, letting the dampness leave a dark stain on the cotton. Beside me, Vera imitated me without my asking, hitching up her skirt to show the same underwear, the same immaculate white, equally betrayed by a little stain between her thighs.

—Let's swap —I told her, in the low tone only she could decipher.

His gaze sharpened at once. I noticed it. He had caught on to the move even before I had finished formulating it, and that filled me with an absurd, almost childish pride. I had surprised Him. Him, who had seen everything.

Vera took a second to understand, and when she did, a shy smile crossed her face. She nodded. I let my hands slide down to the waistband of her panties, feeling the heat the fabric held from her skin, and began drawing them down in slow movements. Every inch I uncovered was part of the game, another offering for the eyes watching us from the armchair. When the garment passed below her hips, her shaved cunt came into view, her lips already swollen and shining, a thin strand clinging to her thigh. My mouth watered.

—Slowly —He said, without raising His voice—. Don't let your eagerness get the better of you. I want to see everything. I want to see every last drop that runs out of you.

I obeyed. I lowered the garment to her ankles and she lifted one foot, then the other, leaning on my shoulder for a moment so she wouldn't lose her balance. I did the same with mine, and Vera was the one who helped me take them off, her fingers brushing my thighs with an awkwardness that wasn't awkwardness, but another form of surrender. The cotton passed from one pair of hands to the other with a softness that made the moment almost hypnotic.

When we were both left holding the exchanged garments, He spoke again.

—Now put them on. Hers on you, yours on her. And do it just as slowly. But first, suck them. I want you to suck each other's cunts through the fabric, and taste each other properly.

We looked at each other. This time the exchange of glances carried something denser than before. I held Vera's panties, still warm and soaked at the crotch, and brought them to my mouth without taking my eyes off Him. I pushed my tongue into the damp part, sucking the cotton until the fabric clung to my lips and its taste, sour and sweet at once, settled on my tongue. Vera did the same with mine, and I watched her close her eyes, sucking slowly, almost reverently, as if she wanted to take into her mouth everything I had left there. I let a thread of saliva fall onto the fabric without looking away from Him, offering Him that little dirty gesture like someone presenting proof of loyalty. I felt His gaze fixed on me, approving, and knew I had got it right.

I put them on. I slid the garment up my legs, enjoying the brush against my naked skin, adjusting it over myself with a calm that was hard to maintain because my heart was already racing too fast. Vera's wetness clung to my cunt, mixing with my own, and that sensation—wearing another woman's juices—made me squeeze my thighs without realizing it. Vera put mine on at the same time, with careful movements, showing how well she had learned her part. When the exchange was complete, I stopped entirely, motionless, waiting.

He looked at us for a long while. His eyes traveled over our bodies from head to toe, unhurriedly, and at last He nodded slowly.

—Perfect —He murmured—. Now touch yourselves. Over the fabric first. I want to see how you search for your cunts with your own fingers in each other's panties.

That single word at the beginning had run down my back like a shiver; the order that followed enlarged it inside me. I brought my hand to my lower belly and began rubbing myself through the cotton, pressing with two fingers at the exact spot where my clitoris was already demanding attention. Vera imitated me, her cheeks flushed, pressing the fabric against her cunt with her open palm. Both our movements grew less timid, rounder, deeper. The stain on my panties—her panties now on me—spread wider and showed perfectly against the white. He stared at it without saying anything, with that stillness of His that was worse than any shouted order.

—Put your hand inside me —He said at last—. I want to see your fingers shining.

I slipped my fingers beneath the edge and touched myself directly, without anything between us. I was soaked. Two fingers entered without resistance, and I slowly rotated my wrist, feeling my walls close around them. Vera did the same, and a low moan escaped her, which she immediately tried to swallow. We could hear each other: the small, liquid, obscene sound flesh made when fingers went in and out. I pulled my hand out for a moment and brought it to my mouth; I sucked my fingers in front of Him, without taking my eyes off Him, and then offered them to Vera, who opened her mouth and accepted them as though they were a gift.

He rose from the armchair. I heard Him before I saw Him: the creak of leather, His footsteps on the rug, that way He had of approaching without hurry because He knew we wouldn't move from where He had left us. I felt His presence behind me before His hands touched me, and when they did, two fingers hooked into the edge of my new garment, my skin reacted on its own, breaking out in gooseflesh. He pulled the fabric down to mid-thigh, and with His other hand He spread my buttocks to look at my ass while He devoured it with His eyes. He pressed my opening with His thumb, without pushing it all the way in, just enough for me to understand what was coming.

—Now I want you to talk —He said, His mouth so close to my ear that the heat of His breath rose up my neck—. Both of you. I want to hear you while you come. Understood?

—Yes, Sir —I answered in a broken voice.

Vera and I looked at each other. Until then everything had been movement and panting, glances and soaked fabrics changing owners. Now He wanted words, and that was harder, because words left fewer places to hide. I gestured for Vera to follow me and moved closer to her, letting my hands return to her waist, slipping beneath the fabric at once to seek out her cunt directly. I inserted two fingers slowly, and she arched her back.

—You look beautiful like that —I told her, moving my hand in an even rhythm—. All wet. All open for Him. Did you know that? Something so simple, and look at you, dripping.

She smiled, and a mischievous glint appeared in her eyes. She lowered her voice to match mine while her hand slipped into my panties too, her fingers opening me.

—Do you like the way I fuck you with my fingers? —she asked, sliding them all the way in—. Am I doing it right? Tell me if you want it faster, tell me.

Her voice trembled a little, but she followed my example without making a mistake. I nodded, squeezing my walls around her fingers.

—Yes. Keep going like that, don't stop. Put them all the way in, I want Him to hear you put them in —I whispered—. And He likes the way you look now too, with my cunt in your hand. Feel proud of that.

I lowered my head and sucked one of her nipples through her blouse; then I bit the other one, harder, until I tore a short moan from her. She returned the gesture by bringing her free hand to the back of my neck and pushing me against her chest, offering me all of it. We rubbed against each other, fingers inside us, our wrists working in rhythm, and the room already smelled of sex, of wet cunt, of that thick mixture He so enjoyed breathing in.

He had remained behind us, watching what He had ordered come to life without needing to guide us step by step. Then He spoke, while opening His fly. I heard the sound of the belt, the weight of the fabric falling, and then the unmistakable friction of His hand over His cock.

—You're perfect —He said, and in His tone there was authority and something resembling the satisfaction of an owner watching His animals perform as expected—. Keep fucking yourselves with your fingers. Tell me what you feel. What you think. I don't want empty moans. I want the truth. I want to hear you good and filthy.

I felt the heat rising through me, but this time it didn't come from the charged air or the friction of our hands. It came from the effort of saying aloud something I normally kept to myself, and from knowing He was jerking off behind our backs. My voice came out almost without permission.

—I feel that everything we do is for you —I said, struggling to breathe between phrases—. Every finger I put into Vera. Every drop that comes out of me. Everything is to please you. I want you to come in my mouth when you're finished with us.

Vera, encouraged by my example, added in a broken murmur:

—It's a pleasure knowing we belong to you. In every sense. That you can put it in us wherever you want. That you can come inside us. I... I want you to put it in me now, Sir.

She said it softly, almost to herself, but He heard her. He heard everything. He pulled His fingers from my cunt with His own from behind and replaced them with His cock, resting the tip against my entrance without pushing it in yet, rubbing it up and down over my soaked lips. With His other hand He continued touching Vera, two fingers buried to the knuckle, moving them with that precise slowness He could maintain even though we were both already trembling.

—That's what I wanted to hear —He murmured—. Good girls. Obedient. Greedy.

He thrust once and pushed all the way inside me. I felt the stretch, the weight, the way He opened me wide in an instant, and let out a long moan I didn't even try to hide. He began fucking me slowly, measuring each thrust, without stopping His hand from working Vera's cunt. She pressed against me, sought my mouth, and kissed me hungrily, biting my lip, while He set the pace behind me and made us both sway with every identical thrust.

—Suck her tits —He ordered Vera—. And you, pull your skirt all the way up. I want to see how it goes in.

Vera obeyed at once. She crouched down, opened my blouse, and took one nipple between her teeth while He sped up. That was the scene: my tits in her mouth, her cunt in His hand, my cunt on His cock, every piece fitted where He wanted us. I closed my eyes for a moment and let the word «obedient» settle over me like a reward, now mixed with the dry slap of His hips against my ass. I had learned long ago that this was my reward: not pleasure itself, but that approval spoken in a low voice, that confirmation that I had played my part well.

—Switch —He said suddenly.

He pulled out of me and positioned Himself behind Vera. He tore off the panties—the ones that were mine—with one yank and pushed Himself into her without preamble, while grabbing me by the hair and bringing my face to her cunt. I understood. I stuck out my tongue and licked Vera's clitoris while He fucked her, feeling His cock going in and out just above my tongue, wetting it with both their juices, feeling Vera begin to tremble uncontrollably.

—Good girls —He repeated, His voice raspier now—. My good girls.

Vera came first. Everything tightened inside her; I felt her pulsing against my tongue and His cock at the same time, and she let out a long moan she didn't even try to contain. He held her by the hips so she wouldn't fall and kept thrusting until He left her empty, then pulled out and came looking for me. He laid me on my back on the rug, put my legs over His shoulders, and pushed Himself into me again, all the way to the hilt. Vera knelt beside me and caressed my tits, licked my neck, whispered in my ear how beautiful I looked coming. That was enough, along with His rhythm and His gaze.

I came, trembling all over, my fingers digging into the rug, and He pulled His cock out just in time. He jerked off twice over my belly and came in spurts, thick, hot cum falling from my navel to between my tits. Vera leaned down without being asked and slowly licked it off me, sucking my skin, swallowing what He had left on me.

—Look at me —He ordered, and we both turned our heads at once.

He stood between us, wearing that calm expression He put on when everything had gone as He wanted. He looked us over one last time: the exchanged panties, by now almost ruined; our thighs still trembling; our mouths parted, waiting for the next instruction; the cum still shining on my skin.

—Stay like that —He said—. Don't move. I want to look at you a little longer before deciding what to do with you afterward.

And we stayed. Still, on our knees on the rug, wearing each other's clothes and staring at Him, waiting. The clock on the wall marked the seconds, and neither of us dared to break that stillness. Because that was what He asked of us, and because we both knew, without needing to say it, that waiting was part of the game too. That surrender wasn't only doing what He ordered, or opening our legs or our mouths for Him whenever He felt like it, but enduring on our feet—or on our knees—the weight of His gaze until He decided to lift it.

He smiled. He sat back down in the armchair slowly and crossed His legs.

—Good girls —He repeated.

And we, motionless beneath that warm half-light, with semen drying on our skin and each other's panties soaked against our own cunts, held ourselves in that waiting as our finest offering to Him.