From then on, the days ran into a summery blur. Each morning, after breakfast, I would be prepared to carry ride either my aunt, or Anita, out around the property in the humiliating pony position – the dominatrix seated across my shoulders. Anita was lighter than my aunt, but not by much, so both were quite a sweat-inducing weight on my shoulders.
On other mornings, for a change, I would be saddled to a pony cart, which Anita and Aunty sat in while I dragged them around, encouraged from time to time by a stinging stroke from the buggy whip across my back or buttocks.
After each “pony” session, I was allowed to cool off in the lovely waters of the swimming pool, but with the added humiliation of having to haul myself from the pool at the end of each lap for the obligatory pussy adoration, then cut with the crop, as a signal to set off on another lap.
Then it was down to the basement games room where Anita or Aunty Pat - sometimes both - enjoyed playing “games” with me until lunchtime, by which stage I was (a) rather tired, and (b) extremely hungry.
The afternoon was either spent lounging by the pool or, if either of my lovely tormentresses was in a teasing mood, in the torture chamber undergoing punishment and pleasure, sometimes just punishment. From time to time, the gardeners played the pose flogging game with me, always leaving me in a state of flustered arousal.
The evening meal was usually followed by a movie session, in which I was allowed to pick a porno video, while Pat or Anita made a choice, so we always watched two movies. I, without hesitation, chose a movie with a femdom theme, because I loved the comments Anita and Aunty Pat passed on the performances.
Aunty Pat's preferences were usually black and white “film noir” while Anita's were of the lesbian variety - one which included the gardeners in a steamy sex session.
One evening, about a week after my arrival, I collapsed into bed and had almost fallen into a deep sleep, when I felt a rustle of the sheets. Anita snuggled up alongside me, and lay a warm hand on my cock.
“Your aunt suggested it was time we did something about your problem down there,” she whispered. “She's worried that you may have a case of blue balls.”
I kissed her softly on the mouth and asked: “How old are you, Miss Anita?” She chuckled. “Why this obsession with age? I'm 30. And my other vital statistics, which I guess you're also interested in, are 34-25-35. Now, will you fuck me?”
I did, and for the first time since my visit to Aunty Pat's I was allowed relief from the longing ache in my poor balls. When I awoke the next morning, the sun was streaming through the curtains and I was alone.
A fortnight after my arrival, the day had followed its usual routine. I had played the role of “pony” carrying Aunty Pat around on my shoulders, during which journey she had enjoyed two noisy orgasms.
There had been the lengths of the pool to cool down, punctuated by pussy adoration at the completion of each lap, and then a session in the games room - a pose flogging, and a worship session of “perfume” licking piss sprayed onto the two lovely bodies of my sexy domination duo.
After lunch, Miss Anita had ordered me to set up the flogging frame in front of their poolside recliners. After strapping me into it, she oiled my naked body and left me hanging there, the hot Arizona sun improving what I considered to already be a sensational tan.
Later, the two ladies arrived, clad in one-piece PVC playsuits - aunty's was black, Anita's a vivid red. The suits were both cut away at the breasts, so their boobs - Pat's large and jolly, Anita's smaller but firmer - were completely uncovered. The garments' crotches were open to view, as well, allowing me unhindered glimpses of two lovely pussies as they lay back on their loungers. I felt my prick begin to rise as I gazed on their bodies.
After Aunty Pat and Anita had made themselves comfortable, the two Latin lovelies, both naked, although they wore black high heels, arrived with an ice bucket holding a bottle of finest Dom Perignon champagne, and a tray with two flutes.
As they opened the Dom and poured a glass for Pat and Anita, my aunty made a call on her mobile. The two gardeners then left the poolside deck and I heard aunty's side of her call.
“Hi, Ebony, it's me Pat. I'm well. I'm just calling to invite you to a poolside party tomorrow - I've got a lovely young sex slave nephew, and I thought I'd show him off. Lovely! See you at midday!”
Aunty Pat then punched in another number. “Hi Paula, it's Pat here. Fine thanks. Just a quick call to invite you to a poolside party here tomorrow - midday onwards. I want you to meet my young nephew - he's from London and he's a sex slave. I think you'll find him cute. Great! See you tomorrow!”
Another number selected, another conversation. “Bobbi - great to hear your voice, long time, no see. I'm throwing a small but select poolside party tomorrow to introduce my young nephew to some friends - I'm inviting Ebony and Paula, too.
“He's 20-years-old and he's a sex slave - you'll adore him. Tomorrow then? Midday on. Yup. See ya!”
The calls over, Aunty Pat turned to Miss Anita: “Get him down, there's a darling.” Anita freed me from my place of bondage and I rubbed the circulation back into my wrists and ankles. Aunty Pat looked up at me, her big breasts glistening in the hot sun, her thighs brown and burnished. “On your knees, darling,” she ordered and I crouched down beside her lounger.
“Now, since I'm throwing a poolside party in your honour, how about thanking me, very, very nicely?”
Aunty widened her thighs, allowing me a clear view of her moist minge.
I shuffled closer to her magnificent perfumed place and started to thank her. Very, very nicely.