Red leather is used for part time slaves, black for 24/7 live-ins. In addition wrist and ankle cuffs were locked on. A final touch added a cock and ...all harness to their genitals and peel off numbers on their asses and upper arms. So far a standard procedure, The slaves were then led upstairs to a large multipurpose room on the first floor of the house. It was lined with cages stacked two high. Each slave was assigned to the cage that had his number on it. This gave member girls not. But it wasn’t my pussy that was being pressed. Something was pressing at my asshole. My eyes flew open. My asshole? My asshole! My mind flashed the image of the odd dildo she had strapped on her hips. It was smaller in diameter with nobs on it. It must be for anal … oh, God … the gel … lubrication … oh, God.I felt pressure building against that tight, puckered opening. My body wasn’t ready for this. This wasn’t meant to happen … was it? Do people do this? Of course, they must … they are doing. Her iPad rang with the tones of an incoming Skype call. She arranged her t-shirt, the only article of clothing that she still had on, and made sure the camera would only catch her upper body in the frame. "Hey Sam! What's happenin' hon?" "Oh, nothing much. Just bored. I'm needing to take a shower. After... well... after last night, I was so exhausted that I went straight to sleep. I woke up, realizing that I hadn't even put panties back on last night, and my womanhood was still caked with. The tipsy woman tripped on the rug and spilled the bowl, falling to the floor, getting marinara sauce all over Dee’s dress and arm, and a bunch of it on her own red top. The embarassed host quickly got to her feet, spilling what was left all over her blue jeans. Justin sprang to his feet, making sure the older woman was okay, while Dee sat there with her hands in the air, helplessly looking at the mess in her lap. While led trying to help the two women get cleaned up, Justin seemed to end up.