LEASHED by My Girlfriend's Girl Friends

The true story of my first time submitting to three women at one time.

Purchase on Amazon for $2.99 or read it here on Patreon!

"Oh, Namtaan," Nazz said.

"Yes, Queen?" I responded.

"Do you want to meet my friends from Phayao, Kiki and Tasha? The ones you were drooling over?"

It was true. I had seen their photos on social media when they liked Nazz's post about tying me up and torturing me. Her hometown friends were cute and mature Thai bomb shells. Would I like to see them? Was that even a question?

Nonetheless, I downplayed my enthusiasm, not knowing where the conversation was leading.

"Um, yes?"

"I was thinking about what you said, about being bored and all, about how you want to play with other women..."

Oh, that. That conversation again. I thought we were over it. I had confessed my desire to have an "open relationship" to Nazz a month and a half before. It had caused a crisis that had threatened to ruin our relationship at the time. But I had worked hard to reassure Nazz of my love since then, and I thought we were getting over it. She hadn't talked about that incident in a couple of weeks.

She continued: "The truth is, I know I'm older than you. I know I'm tired sometimes, and you want to do some things I just can't always do. I had thought about it. That if we were still together in five, ten years, I might give you the freedom to meet another woman occasionally. Just as long as you don't fall in love with her and you still take care of me. And let me use you when I need you. But I'm not ready for that yet. We haven't even been together for two years. If I let you do anything, it would have to be with women I could trust with my life. Are you getting the picture? I've known Kiki and Tasha since I was seven years old."

I nodded submissively. I was getting the picture.

"You're in luck, because I was just talking to Kiki and Tasha, and they really want to see you!"

"Oh?"

Nazz noticed I had sprouted a little boner. Not my fault! I couldn't control it!

"Don't get excited, boy. They want to see Namtaan, not Ari."

Gulp. Namtaan was my doggie name.

"They just loved seeing the pictures of you running in the field, kissing my feet, and following all of my commands!"

There were some humiliating photos she'd taken of me on our trips to the countryside. Pictures of her rubbing her sweaty feet in my face. Of me with dirty hands and knees and bruises on my back from Nazz whipping me with a tamarind branch. Of her pressing the soles of her black knee-high boots into my chest. And, of course, of me giving her full body massages. Always in service to her.

"Do you still want to see them?"

"Yes, Queen Nazz."

"Don't get any ideas. You aren't gonna be fucking them. You are a dog, after all, you know that?"

"I know."

"I said, you are a dog. What do you say?"

"Hong! Hong!" I barked.

"You're going to be on a leash the whole time," she said, her voice turning slightly sinister. "And I told them they can be as mean to you as they want to."

I couldn't believe it! Nazz had offered me the opportunity of a lifetime--the chance to be dominated by two, maybe even three women at the same time. However mean she said they might be, however hard they would make me work, I knew I could handle it. Serving my Queen is what makes me wake up in the morning. Serving her and hoping for my reward. I loved making her happy, and if her friends were anything like her, I knew I would love making them happy, too. Seeing how charming they looked online, I wanted to see them up close. Some submissive men struggle a whole life and never even find one woman to dominate them. Now, I was going to serve multiple women.

I looked forward to the weekend, and I worshipped Queen Nazz with extra effort to show my love and gratitude. I gave her long massages until past midnight, and I looked carefully for the perfect hotels to make our trip a success.

We drove through the fields and over the hills from Chiang Mai to Phayao.

Just before it got dark, we drove down a bumpy dirt road into the jungle, the site of the homestay where we would spend our first night. We stopped in a clearing where there were wooden buildings all around with all kinds of different designs. Some had red and green windows; others had wide open balconies with swings hanging down. Some had lofts with beds in the attic; others had ladders you had to climb to get up to the second floor. The abodes looked like wondrous creations out of a Miyazaki film.

Dogs and cats ran freely. Horses roamed in a pasture.

Nazz had brought her own dog: me.

That evening, she put me on my leash and took me out to the balcony. She sat on a wooden bench, while I crouched by her feet on my hands and knees. She put her legs on my back to rest them. Sometimes, she told me to bark or lick her feet.

From that high second-floor balcony, one could see the whole vast expanse of the property, the other houses around us, and the bridge that went over a stream to a cafe on the other side. Anyone else staying there and walking around outside could have seen us.

Nazz got up and pulled on my leash to make me walk around the balcony.

Two of the staff came walking from the cafe to our house. They were delivering a home made pizza, a special treat every guest gets to enjoy. Nazz waved at them as they crossed the bridge. I gritted my teeth.

"Are you okay with this, Namtaan? Tomorrow, you are going to have to do much more, and you are going to be seen up close by my friends."

I growled from my throat and nodded yes.

The second day was filled with anticipation. We weren't planning on meeting Kiki and Tasha until the third day. We had one day to ourselves in which Nazz would show me around her hometown and let me try the food.

Phayao is home to fewer than 20,000 people. It's less than a fifth as populous as Chiang Mai. It doesn't have the ubiquitous weed shops and clubs that Chiang Mai does. Instead, it has quiet cafes, convivial restaurants that offer live music deep into the night, a humble art museum, and seafood restaurants with outdoor seating alongside Kwan Phayao, the largest lake in northern Thailand.

"We are going to eat nam nyeaw. It's our local noodle dish we don't have in Chiang Mai. Tasha told me there's a good restaurant here."

We followed the directions Google gave us to the place Tasha had praised in such glowing terms. I looked at the review. It was rated 4.5, and everyone was talking about how flavorful the broth was.

"Turn here. It's on this street," I said.

Nazz drove along, but there was nothing.

"Where is it, Namtaan?! You said it was here."

"That's what Google said. Maybe we passed it?"

"You're supposed to tell me when."

"Oh, hey, I think it's there. Shit."

The storefront was blocked by a roll-down door.

"Didn't you check if it was open?"

Didn't Tasha check?, I thought, but I didn't dare say so.

"Google didn't say it was closed!"

Tasha sent another restaurant recommendation. It was right located nearby where we had first started before we drove to the closed restaurant. So Nazz retraced the route. But you wouldn't believe it; her second recommendation was closed, too. The trip was not off to a promising start.

Finally, Nazz just parked outside the first nam nyeaw restaurant she could find. We ordered their signature dish--Nazz's with pork, mine with beef. They were spicy and rich in tomato flavor.

"They're good!"

"Not as good as the ones my mom makes."

Nazz was still a little bit disappointed about wasting so much time on closed restaurants. But I was alright. I got to see different parts of Phayao as we had driven around the city.

"I like her massaman."

"I will make that for you again when we get back."

Nazz took a picture of me eating noodles, my beard splotched with red sauce, and sent it to Tasha.

"Is Tasha coming?"

"She hasn't confirmed. She just said she's thinking."

"Sounds uncertain."

"She says she really wants to. She's just busy."

"I hope she does."

That night, Nazz and I went to a restaurant with a live band. I drank Leo beer, and we danced until closing time. She acted as Mimi, her schoolgirl alter-ego she uses during roleplay, and I took her by the lake, sat on a bench, and kissed her like it was our first date.

The scenario would be much different the next day. I stayed awake for a while, unable to wait, until my eyes finally closed, and I slipped into a restive sleep.

***

"Tasha is in the parking lot," Nazz said. "Meet her and escort her to the room."

My heart pounded. This was really happening.

A woman with a wearing a long dress stood in the parking lot. She had a cute bow in her red-tinged hair and a stern demeanor. The intense, confident look on her face reminded me of Nazz.

"Are you Tasha?" I asked.

"Yes."

I took her bag and led her down the path to our room. With each step, I wondered what was in store for me. My knees quivered. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. My hand shook as I reached for the key and pushed it into the lock of the door.

I opened the door and got down on my knees and pulled Tasha's shoes off her feet. Tasha hugged Nazz and sat down on the couch by the bed.

From my position at her feet, I had a close up view of her socks with smiling cat faces embroidered on them.

"Your socks are cute," I said.

"Take them off," Nazz instructed me.

"With my mouth?" I asked.

"With your mouth," Nazz confirmed.

I knew what I had to do, but I asked for clarification. What were the rules, I needed to know. A slave dedicated to making those women happy, I didn't want to push past the boundaries, to do anything that might offend their sensibilities. Once basic ground rules and practices are established, I can be more proactive next time. I can dive for the socks and ravishingly pull them off.

Would I have to do this for Nazz's friend? To prostrate myself as low as I could go and taste the dry, dirty, cotton socks of a woman on my tongue.

I hadn't put my lips around another woman's socks since I met Nazz in April 2023. The act was an ultimate show of submission. It showed that I would listen to my Queen, Mistress Nazz. I would do as she told me. I would serve her and her friends. Even if it was considered "humiliating" to have to bow down and smell Tasha's feet and taste the fabric that had been pressed up against her sweaty skin, I was prepared to do it for her and for Nazz.

But it was not humiliating. Not to me. It was a great honor to be in the presence of such a woman, a lovely, strong woman who embraced her inner dominance. I would enjoy being dominated as intimately as I was allowed. A woman who had known Nazz most of her life, who had been her good friend (after initially being a fre-nemy the first year they met), she must be a lady of taste. They say you can judge a person by the company they keep. And any girl friend of Nazz would be a goddess to me.

I did my best and pulled her socks off with precision on my first try.

She held my head and pet my hair. She pulled my head into her lap. I felt the soft fabric of her dress on one side of my face and her sweet rubs on the other.

As Tasha was stroking my fur, I was feeling calm and cared for. While this was happening, I heard a melodic laugh from behind me. Kiki had entered the room.

I raised myself off Tasha's lap and put my arms on the floor and trotted on my two legs over to Kiki. She was wearing a full-on denim body suit with low-cut jeans and a jean vest. Like Nazz, she had long black hair and a devilishly cute smile. She looked down at me and smiled condescendingly.

As if knowing what was coming, she raised her foot. As she was wearing white slip on shoes with no socks, I could see her toenails were painted with vixen red polish. I pulled her slip ons off for her. While I did not have the honor of removing her socks, I was privileged to get my face close enough to her foot that I could smell her aroma. I hoped I would get to imbibe more and deeper later.

Perhaps it is not quite true to say that I did not feel any humiliation whatsoever. Oh, I did. I really did. But I enjoyed having such humiliation be imposed on me by such a refined goddesses of ladies. To a masochist, pleasure and pain meet and meld into one. They don't refute each other. They both exist at the same time. One exists because of the other. The same, I believe, is true of honor and humiliation. Need I explain myself further? I need not; if I am happy, and they are happy, we are all happy.

Kiki sat down on the couch next to Tasha. I crawled back towards them. Nazz handed Tasha my collar and leash. She opened the collar and put it around my neck from the back. She tried to strap it, but it wasn't long enough. She tried to adjust it, but it still didn't fit. Kiki and Nazz were laughing the whole time she fumbled with it. Finally, Tasha turned it around so that the buckles went behind my neck, and Kiki took the strap and helped her clip it in. I was locked into my role as their dog. Tasha took the handhold of the leash.

I was moved into the space between the couch and the bed. Tasha and Kiki sat on the couch and extended their legs, resting them on my back. Serving as a foot stool for one divine woman is an intense pleasure as it is. You (if that is the proper pronoun in this situation), the human furniture, get to feel useful as you hold the weight of the woman's legs, hold still, and make her feel comfortable and happy.

On this afternoon, I wasn't going to be the foot stool for just one woman...

Kiki and Tasha both kept their legs on my back as they rested, relaxing just like they would if they had an Ottoman at their feet. Neither woman showed any timidness or reluctance about utilizing me as furniture. But they each interacted with their furniture slave differently. At first, Tasha and Kiki both kept her legs straight and motionless. Just relaxing. But after a little while, Kiki began to wiggle and bounce her legs, increasing the weight on my back and making it harder for me to keep still and balanced. I could tell Kiki took some pleasure in tormenting me just a little bit. A cute, sweet-looking girl as she, she liked to see what she could get away with. She knew the boy serving her would enjoy it no matter what she did to him. (She was right. I took masochistic pleasure in being tormented by such a lovely girl.)

On this afternoon, I wasn't going to be the foot stool for just two women...

My Mistress didn't want her friends to have all the fun. Queen Nazz swung her feet off the bed and pressed them into my back on what little space was left. Because the mattress on the bed was higher off the ground than the cushions of the couch, Nazz's feet came down on me from above. They weren't simply resting on my back but rather pressing into me with force. I moved my arms around to solidify my base and hold strong in my position.

Tasha wanted a massage, and she made it known. She put her legs straight out along the length of the couch, forcing Kiki to move to the bed.

I began massaging her foot. I rubbed Tiger Balm into her sole and pressed my thumbs into her skin, pressing hard to give her a sensation that could work her muscles and extract the pain and soreness of the day. I pressed and moved my thumbs down and pressed again, doing lines down and up, down and up. When I got up to the top again, I started rubbing her toes. I put one finger on the outside and one on the inside, doing one toe with each hand, and I kneeded her toes, moving up to the top.

Tasha smiled with an expression of pure joy. I knew I was doing a good job, and I made a note that Tasha loved being massaged on the toes. I must remember the preferences of each lady I serve.
 While I continued to massage Tasha, Nazz emptied our bag of toys onto the bed and gave a demonstration to her dominatrixes in training.

"I like to tie him up," she said, while she showed off the length of black rope.

"How does that work?" Kiki asked, pointing at a couple of connected black leather straps with buckles and cuffs.

"This part goes around his neck. It hangs down in back, and you can handcuff his wrists behind his back."

"Oh! How fun! Tee hee!"

They were speaking in Thai. Afterwards, Nazz gave me the line-by-line rundown. But as Nazz held up the ball gag that had so often gone into my mouth to shut me up, it wasn't difficult to guess approximately what she was saying. But it was exciting in a blush-inducing way to know that they were talking about me and all of my private kinks right in front of me in a language I couldn't understand. It was like I wasn't even there, like I was just a dog, a massage machine, and, anyway, they could talk about whatever they wanted whenever they wanted. Their needs and desires were what mattered.

To be sure, I was glad that Nazz was giving them an education on the fun and kinky toys of BDSM. If things went well, I hoped they could one day use them on me.

Nazz showed off the pink bullwhip and the small cat-of-nine-tails flogger. On her phone, she opened a photo of my back covered with red whip marks. The marks striped up and down in all directions. Tasha and Kiki gawked at the sight.

We had kept the long-tailed flogger at home. We couldn't bring everything, and we thought they might want to start with the small one. Tasha liked the crop, an implement with a handle and a flexible shaft with a flap at the end. Embedded in the flap, the part that hits against the submissive, are multicolored plastic jewels. A capital-Q Queen must look fabulous when whipping her slave, right?

Nazz handed Tasha the crop, and she immediately began trying it out on me. She struck me softly in the neck and on my back while I worked on her.

I moved back down her foot and rubbed Tiger Balm into the backside of her foot and her ankles. I started pressing with my thumbs on the top of her tibia bone and moving up her leg. She enjoyed that, too.

As a submissive who yearns to serve, I take pride when I see my efforts yielding pleasure in the body of a being of the superior gender. I have put great efforts into learning to massage--first at the Sabai Dee Massage School in Chiang Mai and then many nights giving massages to Queen Nazz. Tasha could thank her for training me well so that I could send her to heaven with my fingers.

"Hang! Hang!" Tasha said.

I was flummoxed, not understanding what she meant, so I just continued doing what I was doing.

Then Tasha hit me on the shoulder with the crop--a little bit harder than she had been doing, but still not very hard compared to what I'm used to--and said "Hang! Hang!" again. Then it hit me: Tasha was telling me "Harder"--press into my legs harder as you give me a massage!

The word I'm used to hearing is "Rang! Rang!" but I guess in Northern Thai accent, the "r" sounds like an "h."

So I intensified my pressure on her bone, rubbing and pressing and moving up and down with my thumbs. It's funny how a superior woman who needs a massage and a strong submissive man have one thing in common. We both need to have our skin and muscles manipulated with the right amount of force to make us feel the sensation we crave. I wanted to feel the whip strike me harder and send intense vibrations into my skin.

In a classic Mistress-slave scenario, the slave shouldn't be initiating conversation with the Mistress (except to use the safe word if necessary), and the slave most certainly shouldn't be asking or demanding something from the Mistress for his enjoyment. But I guessed this was a different scenario. I was with my girlfriend, and she was introducing her friends to a new lifestyle they had never experienced. My advice as to how to whip me--their slave--might be sought after. What was the worst that could happen? That they punish me for speaking out of turn?? By whipping me harder??? Oh... Yes... Please, please punish me!!!

So, I took a risk, and I said, "Hang! Hang! ... Hit me harder!"

Tasha swung the crop from afar and smacked me on the backside of my shoulder. It made a loud percussion sound and sent low-frequency bolts of pain shooting from my nerve endings. It was not as hard as Nazz hits me--not close--but it was a good deal harder than Tasha had hit me before, and it made me feel good!

As she heard how loud the sound was, Tasha involuntarily withdrew her hand that was holding the crop and covered her mouth with it. It was a reminder that however bossy Tasha seems, she's still a delicate flower. It's a phenomenon I had seen with women wielding whips for the first time in the past--women have not been conditioned to be brutal and mean. It takes some practice for a girl to break free from her social conditioning and really unleash a fury with a whip. But even roses evolved to have prickly thorns, and the Nazz's girlfriends would surely grow to become harsher. Maybe I should savor this time when I have only one woman--not three--imprinting their marks upon my back.

Tasha could see that I enjoyed being whipped, so she started to hit me rhythmically, in time with the rubbing movements of my thumbs and fingers, to encourage my efforts as her personal masseuse. The longer Tasha's massage went on, the more Kiki and Nazz grew tired of ceding their slave to Tasha exclusively.

As I leaned in towards her leg to get the right angle, Tasha's foot was behind my head, and her ankle was right by my face. Soon, Kiki and Nazz stuck their feet from the bed towards my face. Kiki put her foot on my shoulder, next to my head, and she pushed her foot in and out and rolled it back and forth. There she went, again teasing her slave by making things harder for him, pushing him around.

Nazz put her sock-clad foot right into my face, rubbing it by my beard and nose. She rubbed up and down, causing wrinkles to ripple across my cheeks. All the while, Tasha flicked me with the crop on top of my head and under my chin.

With three women teasing me, I tried to maintain composure and continue massaging Tasha. If you could take a look at me then, you would see that I had a look of sheer pleasure and ecstatic wonder at the strange ways gifts are bestowed upon us in this world mixed with exasperation at the gals for being so demanding. I could tell the spoiled princesses were trying to make things tough on me. Trying to distract me from giving the massage, which was my duty. But they knew that if they distracted me, they could scold me and punish me, which, of course, they would love to do, too.

Girls, bratty as they, always want to be the center of attention. Neither of them could assent to me giving Tasha my undivided attention for too long. Kiki's red toenails screamed, "Look at me! Aren't I lovely?" Nazz's cute well-worn socks with the face of a puppy dog in the cuff begged for attention. If that wasn't enough, she put them into my face and rubbed so that I couldn't escape them even if I wanted to.

Her feet wanted my attention, and they deserved my attention.

Those divas knew that I loved being used by them. Used, abused, and humiliated. A cursory glance at my groin area would have confirmed that. My "little brother" was standing tall. He had been ever since I got on my hands and knees and shed Tasha of her socks.

Having three woman's feet in my face was a fantasy come true. Even as I write this, watching the video to refresh my memory, I can't quite believe it all happened just a week ago. (And, yes, my boy has gotten hard again while I sit at my work desk.)

Nazz moved her foot towards my chest and started kicking at my collar so that she was ringing the bell. Kiki kept pushing on my shoulder with her foot. Tasha kept tapping me in the cheek with the crop. I was going crazy with desire.

Kiki wanted a massage, too. She started pushing both of her feet in my face. As if they hadn't tempted me enough, Kiki's toes were right there, dominating my vision. The pleasant scent of her naked feet went straight, undiluted into my nose. Then Tasha pulled on the leash, bringing me closer in to her leg to get me away from Kiki.

It was a game for them. Tasha pulled my leash tight, then Kiki pushed her feet closer into my face. Back and forth, push and pull, they fought over me. Me, the object. Yes, I loved being objectified. I don't envy women who have to be hit on by creepy dudes, but I sure liked being the center of attention of those women. There was a cat fight for control of the dog. No matter who won, I would remain on my knees in submission to a possessive woman.

Just then, Tasha got a phone call. She got up and went outside. I was Kiki's to use as she pleased.

Kiki's feet had been beguiling me for as long as she had been in the room. Their toenails were painted in bright red, yes, that was enticing enough, and, even more, her lovely feet were nice and shapely, with the curving arches of a temptress.

"May I kiss them?"

"Yes," Kiki nodded.

I gave a short and sweet peck to right on the sole, around the balls of each of her feet. I didn't dare go further. Even if I was thinking how tasty it would be to lick from bottom to top... Or how many toes I could fit in my mouth at one time... I couldn't push it and go beyond what she agreed to. I must be a good boy. Maybe I will get a reward next time.

I applied the Tiger Balm to Kiki's feet and legs and rubbed it in. I began pressing my thumbs into her leg as I worked my way up and down her leg. Kiki let out a gasp of contentment. I moved to her other leg and kept at it.

Tasha came in from outside with a hurried look on her face.

"It was my boss. He asked me where I was. I said I was at a meeting with a client."

"Do you have enough time to take a walk around the hotel?" Nazz asked. "The lake view is nice."

"Sure, I do. I'm not going to be too rushed to not enjoy myself."

"Let me use the restroom," Kiki said.

Tasha sat back down on the bed. I knelt in front of her. She stroked my beard under my chin just like if she were petting a dog. I felt warm. I felt blessed to have those charming ladies showering me with their affection. Tasha rubbed my fur for a little bit, then Nazz grabbed the leash and pulled me towards her.

"Massage!" she said.

Nazz has always been direct and authoritative when she speaks. She's the true dominant, after all. I took her socks off with my mouth and began applying pressure to her feet with my thumbs. She especially likes it when I press in on the outside of her foot around the heel. After I gave both of her feet a good massage, I moved to her legs, focusing on her muscles.

Both women went to the toilet, and then it was Nazz's turn. Her massage wasn't as long as those of the others, but we both knew she would enjoy a long one that night before bed.

Nazz got up to go to the washroom, and that left me in the hands of Kiki and Tasha alone. While Tasha began petting me again, Kiki swung her legs towards my shoulders and pushed down until I was once again on my hands and knees on the ground. Kiki put her legs on my back,  shifting her weight back and forth from one leg to the other, pressing up and down, as I struggled to keep centered. Tasha joined her, doing the same. She must have learned the trick from her. Gone was the gentle Tasha who had relaxed her legs on my back peacefully the first time she indulged herself. They smiled sweetly while they pushed and prodded me with their feet, making me take more pressure, giggling and tittering as they did.

Kiki took the end of the leash and stood up, pulling it and leading me around the room. She and Tasha laughed. As Kiki held me in the center of the room, she pressed down on my shoulders, and Tasha watched from the bed.

"I wonder if he can carry me on his back?" Kiki wondered.

"Of course, he can. He can carry me," Nazz said as she emerged.

Suddenly, Kiki jumped on my back, letting her legs hang down on the sides and grabbed ahold of my shoulders with her hands. I held still for a couple of seconds, processing everything, thinking what I should do. It was obvious, wasn't it? I should give her a ride!

So I lifted my arms and dragged my legs and began moving across the room with Kiki balanced atop me. I felt her weight pressing down on me. I enjoyed the feeling. Feeling the space she takes up. Being subjected to the weight of her. Me giving her a once-in-a-lifetime (or at least once-until-next-time-I-come-to-Phayao) experience she could not get anywhere else. How does it feel to the woman to ride a man as if he were a horse?, I wondered. I hope she feels strong, empowered, and without a care in the world. 

For me, it just made the status between us that much clearer: I was the submissive, the slave, the human livestock--to borrow a term from an erotic novel I enjoyed, The Domestic Yapoo. She was a Queen, a Goddess, a Woman to be served. A Girl Friend of Nazz.

By me being beneath her, I was saying that I was beneath all of Nazz's girlfriends who Nazz allowed to use me. I was saying that they were all above me, that I must bow to them, kowtow to them, and obey them when Nazz told me to. I was saying, too, that I loved the dynamic. Nazz's friends were so beautiful, so graceful, so exceptional for who they were, for how they acted towards me, and for how, with Nazz's guidance, they so naturally accepted the order of things, that I was happy to be in the same room with them, and that I would put up with--nay, enjoy--being servile to them if it let me be close to them.

I walked Kiki to the door and then turned around and walked back to the bed.

Kiki jumped off me and shouted, "I love having a dog!"

I was turned on to the extreme. But I didn't have any misconceptions about what might happen on this, our first meeting. I didn't expect anything extra, nor would I be disappointed if nothing extra occurred. If it happened or not, it was up to them, my Superiors, my Mistresses. But I can't say I was unfulfilled. Serving them was itself a reward.

In fact, so much had already happened that filled me with me with dopamine, the pleasure hormone. So much had happened to bring a smile to my face and a pleased bark ("Mong! Mong!") to my throat. I had already gotten to give massages to my masters, to taste their feet, and to revel in their soft voices and their harsh demands.

I was just happy to be there. It felt like the beginning of something, and I didn't know where it might lead.

I stood, put my shoes on, and walked outside to join Nazz, Tasha, and Kiki. I would be on two legs again since we were in public. But I would be no less submissive to my Queens.

One by one, the three supreme ladies handed me their bags and other items they didn't want to have to carry. I had three handbags hanging from my two arms, plus I was carrying a selfie stick and a pair of knee pads as I followed them down the path to the lake.

A six-headed naga serpent statue stood on the bank to safeguard the water in front of a tree with a set of twisted, interlocking trunks and branches from which ornamental bird cages hung down. A rickety dock looked unsafe to walk on. Mountains rose up on the opposite side of the lake. Fisherfolk who used traditional fishing methods paddled by on longboats. I'd seen it all the previous day, so I just stayed back and let the women enjoy the scenery.

Out on a patio, there was a round sofa made of woven rattan that you could step inside and sit down on.

"Come, come!" Nazz said. There was no one else around. We had the patio all to ourselves.

Kiki sat down first. I followed behind. Nazz, who loved documenting everything we do, told me to sit down next to her. She stood in front and took a selfie of us together. Tasha joined us for one photo, but she didn't want to be in too many shots.

Pretty soon, Kiki pushed me off the couch and onto the brick-covered patio floor. She crossed her legs and rested her right leg on her left knee, hanging her ankle and shoe in my face. She wore a bright smile and an exuberant and self-assured look on her face, as if she was sure of her place in the hierarchy. Perfectly comfortable keeping me at her feet. She rested her feet on my back, returning me to my cherished role of Ottoman. Nazz joined her, and Tasha snapped a couple of photos of them using me together.

There's Kiki fanning her hands at an angle in front of her mouth, looking cute and fresh.

There's Nazz crossing her legs and resting both of them on my back next to Kiki, with my head down and the dirty soles of Nazz's red walking shoes visible to the camera.

There's a photo from behind in which you can see only their long legs, extended, each of them resting both of their legs on my back.

There they are sitting there casually, not even knowing a photo was being taken, because Kiki and Nazz dominating me is just the most natural thing in the world.

We drove to lunch at another restaurant along the lake--the ostensible reason Tasha came in the first place.

Over a meal of fried shrimp, fresh fish, and seafood fried rice, Nazz, Kiki, and Tasha had a girly conversation. Smiles all around and delicious food. Nazz translated their thoughts about the experience into English, and she told me tales of their childhood.

"Kiki was always the cute one. She still is! Tasha was the most beautiful one in our primary school. I was the bossy one. I was always picked by the teacher to be the class monitor. So I had to tell everyone to clean up, line up, things like that. Sometimes the other kids didn't like me because I got that role. They didn't want to listen to me. But I didn't care. I made them listen to me!"

Nazz put food on my plate. I took a bite of the fish. It was so fresh, the flavor hit my tongue like a whip against my skin, causing taste sensations to fly through my mouth to my brain.

Kiki said something.

"Kiki really liked it," Nazz said. "She wants to do it again."

Tasha looked at her phone.

"Tasha would like to, too. If she can.

"It's just our first meeting, but there are so many possibilities," Nazz continued. "You could take us skiing in Japan for a weekend! We could get a house. Kiki and I could live together with you serving us! Give us massages for four hours every night. Lick four feet. You'd love it!"

I got hard again just thinking about it.

The clouds that had gathered over the mountains had cleared, and we were enjoying the view from the table by the lake. Our food was finished, but it was so good.

"More seafood soup? Ari's treat," Nazz said.

I ordered an Americano, too.

"Is there anything you want to ask them?"

"What's the most important thing you want in a slave?" I asked via Nazz.

Both Kiki and Tasha had the same answer: He must obey.

And Kiki said something else: You must get better at Thai so you can talk to us!

I carried their bags back to their cars, and we hugged goodbye. Until next time.

On our way back to the hotel, Nazz and I stopped at Wat Si Khom Kham temple. We placed incense and burning candles in front of the Buddha statues. I prayed for my good fortune. The fortune, the fate, to meet this woman who could understand me so genuinely, so intensely, who knew how to fill the voids in my heart, how to make me feel alive. She didn't feel jealousy or repulsion like some women would. As such a lovely woman, she attracted others like herself. Her friends, too, were such enlightened and sympathetic women.

Back at the hotel, Nazz threw me onto the bed. My tireless cock vibrated and grew. It burst out of my boxers. Nazz made me take them off. My throbbing, veiny cock stood tall in front of her. She jumped on me, devouring my cock with her pussy. She rode. She bounced like crazy. After be tantalized for so long, it felt so sweet, so sweet indeed. But before I could come, she jumped off me and pushed me away.

"Lie on the floor, Namtaan!"

I did as I was told, and she sat by the edge of the bed and thrust her feet into my face.

"You can only come with my feet, your favorite feet!"

As she rubbed the feet I am so used to in my face and pressed them right into my nose, I rubbed my dick, and I came in a couple of seconds.

"See how crazy our feet made you!"

She was right, of course. Then, I went to her and licked her pussy until she came.

That night, I gave Nazz a massage until she fell asleep. And, then, I kept rubbing her arm after she fell asleep. Until I fell asleep. She deserved all that and more.

I thought about how much I loved her the whole time we drove home. Only she could have arranged that. Only she was that dominant, that strict, but at the same time, that loving. Like a good dog owner, she would discipline her dog, train him to follow orders, but she also wanted the best for her boy, for her best friend.

The hills on the road from Phayao seemed more rough and jarring the second time. I started to feel nauseous. Nazz stopped and bought me medicine, and I felt better.

The familiar sights of Chiang Mai came into view. When I saw Doi Suthep, I said, "I can't wait to go back."

"You love Kiki's feet, don't you, bitch!"

"No, I mean, yes, I mean... I like all your feet!"

I knew she was joking. She likes to make me stutter in fear.

"All you women together," I continued. "You are Goddesses. You are the Number One Mistress, and they are your disciples."

"I know it," Nazz said. "But, you know, you must be careful what you wish for. Because they are just starting to learn. I am going to keep training them to be as bitchy as me."