“Model?” I heard myself saying.

“Yes-s, pet—m-model,” Amy slowly repeated, slurring her words.

It was Saturday afternoon. We had had lunch and Amy and Laura had consumed a bottle of Prosecco between them, with Amy having the greater part. Now, sitting side-by-side on the sofa, staring up at me, they had started a second bottle. I could tell from their amused expressions that they were in a teasing mood, Amy probably more so than Laura.

I couldn't understand what Amy was talking about, so Laura sought to explain. “Amy was thinking, muffin, how nice it would be if we could see more of your body.”

“My body?” I parroted.

“Yes, you've got a lovely body, sweetheart. That little paunch you had when we first got together has gone; now you're not allowed beer. And regular aerobic exercise at the gym has kept you looking fit and toned, without being overly muscular. You look very... er... tasty, poppet.” She smiled while Amy giggled.

“But—”

“We-we want to see... see more of... of you, pet,” declared Amy, sniggering. “We... we don't want... want you to keep it hidden. You can amuse us.”

“Uh? Amuse you?”

“It's not rocket science, sweetie. Strip down to your bra and panties. It won't hurt you to keep Miss Amy entertained for a few hours. Hmm?”

Entertained? Was I an act in a circus? And surely Laura realised that Amy was tipsy. Why was she indulging her? This could end in tears!

“You're not going to argue with us, are you, poppet?” continued Laura. “You know you won't win, don't you?”

I knew that only too well. “Er...” was all I could say.

“Come... come on, pet, you've-ve got a body to die for, so damn... well... strip off!” Amy was struggling with her words, as the effects of the alcohol intensified. “Off! Off! Off! Off!—” she yelled, clapping her hands in time with the words.

“That's enough, Amy!” Laura said, glaring at her and pushing the Prosecco bottle out of her reach. Turning to me, she said, “But do what Miss Amy says,” she insisted. “Come on, please!”

Reluctantly, I got undressed, until I was standing in front of the pair wearing nothing but a pair of powder blue bikini panties and a lacy bra in the same colour. Inside my bra were my falsies, providing shape.

“I'm getting wet just looking at you, sweetheart,” Laura remarked, in a way intended to reassure me that what I was doing was pleasing her and might be rewarded later.

“Me... me too, pet,” chirped Amy, her eyes glazed. “You're... you're a good looking girlie! A... a very pretty girlie!” She looked around again for the bottle, but Laura pulled it further out of reach.

I blushed and felt agonising twinges as my cage resisted attempts by my penis to engorge.

“Carry on with your chores, sweetie,” instructed Laura. “Why not do the dusting and hoovering in this room, and then we can sit and admire you as you move around. Try to be as graceful and as feminine as possible with your movements, muffin.” Amy laughed raucously, while Laura simply smiled.

oooOOooo

Thus, wearing just a bra and panties was how I was to spend the afternoon in the flat. I found it embarrassing, yet also strangely stimulating, knowing that I was turning the pair on by the way I was dressed.

I continued my work in the lounge for an hour, always aware that I was on display, and then I moved from cleaning the lounge to their bedroom. Amy followed me, while Laura, now seemingly bored with the exhibition she had engineered, remained in the lounge.

Despite not having access to the second bottle, Amy was becoming more playful as time progressed, continually making lewd comments about my appearance and how much she wanted me.

Meanwhile, Laura was starting to get peeved with Amy's behaviour. “For God's sake, Amy, grow up!” she screamed from the lounge.

“Ooops...” exclaimed Amy, smiling at me. “Sorry... pet. Sorry... Laura!”

When I began cleaning the kitchen, she followed me in there as well. And then she decided it would be fun to twang my bra straps, while continuing with her suggestive remarks.

“For crying out loud, Amy, pack it in,” Laura shouted. Then I heard Laura coming through from the lounge, just as Amy gave one of my straps another pluck.

“Stop doing that, Amy!” ordered Laura, grabbing her by the shoulders. “You wouldn't like it if I did it to you. It's unkind!”

“So-sorry, Laura,” Amy replied, meekly. “I won't do it again!” As she said that, she turned to me and gave me an exaggerated wink. The smirk on her face told me that she was becoming ever friskier. Laura, clearly frustrated and regretting accommodating Amy's suggestion that I should strip off, went back to the lounge in a mood.

For a while, Amy did as she was told and toned down her language. I continued with my chores and moved into the bathroom. However, it wasn't long before Amy crept up and again snapped one of my straps. I turned to glare at her, but she simply grinned at me in her coquettish manner. Laura still wasn't in the room, so she didn't see what had happened.

I could have landed Amy in trouble, but telling tales is not my style, so I chose to ignore her silliness and continued with my cleaning.

Amy disappeared from the bathroom, but I was aware of her returning a few minutes later, coming up behind me. Suddenly, I felt her hand pulling on the back of my panties and, before I could react, she had dropped a handful of ice-cubes inside. I let out a shriek of surprise, and she screamed with laughter.

Laura hurried in to see what the commotion was. “What the frigging hell have you done now, Amy?” she screeched. “Have you been snapping his straps again? After I told you not to! Didn't your mother tell you to be kind to people, especially those lower down the pecking order?”

“W-what? I've not twanged nothing!” responded Amy, trying, unsuccessfully, to appear as if butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. “Tell... tell her, pet, that I've not done nothing... I mean, not done anything?”

What was I to say? “No, she's not done anything, Miss,” I replied, wondering if I was protecting Amy at the risk of further angering Laura.

“Then why is there water running down your legs onto the floor, Stevie? I can't believe you've wet yourself, so what's happened?”

“Er... erm...”

“Turn around, Stevie.” She had adopted her assertive tone—the tone that I knew better than to argue with.

I swivelled around, revealing the sodden back of my panties, stuffed full of melting ice cubes. Laura's face flushed with anger as she turned to scowl at Amy.

“This is your doing, Amy! You do not treat Stevie like that. It's not funny.”

“Yesss, it... is, isn't it, pet?” Amy giggled, not for the first time, failing to read the signs of Laura's growing fury.

“Er... yes, it was just a joke,” I replied, mentally willing Amy to sober up before it was too late.

But it was too late. Laura plonked herself down on the toilet seat lid and tapped her thighs. “Stevie—don't stand there creating a puddle! Take your knickers off, for God's sake. And, Amy, take your skirt off. You're going to be spanked!”

The realisation of what was being said seemed to bring Amy to her senses. “What?” she cried, panic setting in. She almost sounded sober—as if a bucket of cold water had been thrown over her!

“You heard me, you're due a spanking, so get over my knees! I should have done this weeks ago to remind you who's in charge.”

“No... no, Laura, don't spank me. I'm... I'm sorry—I won't do it again!” Then she turned to me, adding, “S-sorry, pet, I shouldn't have done that, but... but you forgive me, don't you? You... you know I wouldn't hurt you, don't you?”

“Er... yes, of course I do,” I assured her. “There's no need for Miss Amy to be punished, Miss. It was just a joke that got a bit out of hand.”

“I'll be the judge of that, Stevie. Take your skirt off, Amy, and get over my lap.”

Amy was, indeed, rapidly sobering up. “No, Laura, please don't. I think I've just had a glass too many, that's all. Don't spank me in front of Stevie. If... if you have to spank me, can we do it in private—please?”

“No! Stevie is the offended party, so he gets to see you being punished. Just like you've seen him being spanked.”

“It's okay, Miss, I'll turn around,” I hastened to say, possibly for selfish reasons as my penis was already throbbing in its cage and I wasn't sure how I would cope witnessing Amy being spanked.

“No, you damn well won't turn around, Stevie, unless you want to be spanked as well.”

Amy had finally gotten the message. She was to be spanked, and I was to witness her punishment. Red-faced, she unzipped her skirt and let it slip down, revealing a pair of pink satin panties, a pair I had washed for her many times.

Resignedly, and with a face the colour of a pillar box, Amy lowered herself onto Laura's thighs, who responded by tearing off Amy's knickers to expose her bare bottom.

Wasting no time, Laura started to slap the soft flesh in front of her, alternating with blows to the left and right sides. The punishment continued without a break for many minutes. Initially, individual handprints could be seen on Amy's bottom, but it wasn't long before they overlapped and then entirely covered both buttocks. Soon, Amy was crying out, begging for Laura to end the spanking. Tears were rolling down her face, and her screams increased as Laura turned her attention to her upper thighs.

After what must have seemed like an eternity to Amy, Laura suddenly stopped. Amy's buttocks and thighs were now bright red, matching her face, and she had been evenly tanned all over. No individual handprints were discernible—just a continuous field of redness.

“Stand up, Amy. Face Stevie with your hands on your head and apologise to him. If you don't want to do that, you can get back over my knees for another round.”

For a moment, I reckoned that Amy was going to protest, but she thought better of it. She was far more sober now than she had been, and her innate mischievousness was taking second place to her contriteness.

She did what she was told and, for the first time ever, she exposed her sex to me. Yes, I had worshipped it with my lips and tongue, but only when blindfolded. I had never seen it, and Amy had always insisted I never would. Her plans to protect her privacy were in tatters.

I tried to show respect by looking Amy in the eyes, but Laura insisted I look down at Amy's neatly trimmed bush and her now glistening vulva. It didn't escape my attention that Amy, despite crying during her punishment, had been turned on by it.

“Let's hear your apology, Amy,” insisted Laura.

Amy looked at me with a sincere expression, saying, “Er... I'm really sorry, pet. I got carried away, and I shouldn't have done what I did.”

“That's all right, Miss Amy, think nothing of it. I know it was meant to be a joke and no harm has been done.”

“Thank you, pet,” replied Amy, nodding. Her eyes were now moist again, but more in remorse than in pain.

“You two hug and make-up,” instructed Laura, who was now much calmer.

Amy didn't need telling twice. She came over and embraced me, landing a wet kiss on my cheek. And then she pulled me tighter to her, and her lips made contact with mine and her breasts pushing into my abdomen, below my bra. Before I knew what was happening, her tongue was in my mouth and her body was wriggling, and I became aware that her nipples had become erect.

For a second she pulled away, but only to utter, “Touch me, pet... please... touch me.”

Shocked by what she was suggesting, I glanced over her shoulder at Laura who now had a faint smile on her face—her anger with Amy was spent. She gave me an almost imperceptible nod and I dropped my hand and fingered Amy's vulva.

She responded by pushing herself still closer and squirming. The message was clear—she wanted me to masturbate her. I checked again with Laura, who still signalled her approval.

With one finger, I quickly found Amy's clitoris and then with a couple of other fingers I simultaneously explored her love canal. She was sopping wet and soon was moaning and groaning.

Then, after barely a couple of minutes, a tremendous climax wracked her body. Her knees gave way, and she became a dead weight. It took all the strength I possessed to grasp her with my free hand to prevent her from becoming a crumpled mass on the floor, yet, all the time, I managed to keep stimulating her with my other hand.

For those few minutes, as I pleasured Amy, I had been able to switch off the throbbing pain from my penis, as it had attempted to push back against the solid steel impeding its engorgement. Now, her orgasm complete, I again became conscious of the excruciating pain.

“Please excuse me,” I pleaded, as I rushed to the kitchen for ice cubes, hoping that Amy had not used them all up with her silly prank.

With my ardour cooled, I returned to find that Laura and Amy were now fondly embracing. “Haven't you still got some ironing to do, muffin?” asked Laura. “In the kitchen? You'll get your reward from me later.”

The message was clear and exciting. “Yes, Miss,” I replied, leaving them to it, but not before Amy had given me another of her impish winks. I smiled back.

It had, indeed, proved to be an entertaining afternoon, even if it hadn't turned out the way that Amy had been expecting.

oooOOooo

As I busied myself with the ironing, I further reflected on the day. Not for the first time, there had been unprecedented events. Notably, the pecking order had become unequivocally established, and we had all three become more set in our roles. Amy had submitted to Laura, confirming that being deputy was not the equivalent of being leader. However, Amy was still above me in the hierarchy, and it was my role to pleasure her, with no thought for my own frustration. Overall, Laura was most definitely in command, but she had no objections to sharing me with Amy. What a weird setup we had! But, somehow, it worked.