"I'm all sweaty," she said, "after dragging you around the house like that. Lick me clean." She raised her arm again and moved towards him, forcing her armpit close to his face. Grabbing the back of his head, she pushed him forward until his face was smothered against her arm and side. "Lick," she repeated. Tentatively, Mr Loverman reached out his tongue and began to lap at her armpit, a look of disdain on his face as he tasted her sweat. "Good boy," Helen said. "That's it, get me nice and clean." She raised her other arm and gestured to him to continue. Silently, he obeyed and began to lick anew, this time with rather more gusto than before: Mr Loverman could persuade himself to enjoy anything, it seemed.

Helen removed her jeans and sat down on the settee. With a mischievous grin, she looked up at him again. "Feet first," she said, "then lick upwards." Mr Loverman tried to get down to his knees, but the broom, still firmly lodged in his nether regions, held fast to the carpet and wouldn't slide backwards. He yelped in pain as the handle speared into his rectum, ripping at his sphincter. As Helen laughed wickedly I helped the poor man out by sliding the broom along the carpet, allowing him to sink to his knees in front of her. She raised her leg and smeared the ball of her foot against his face. "Lick," she said.

Mr Loverman gripped her ankle and began to lick, kiss and caress her foot. Of course, he was well accustomed to this, being forced to service me in this way from his dog basket at the foot of my bed every morning and night. Helen sighed contentedly as his experienced tongue and mouth lavished attention on each toe, one after the other. Stretching his tongue out, he trailed it the length of her sole and kissed her ankle, then planted hundreds of kisses along the length of her foot, up and down, up and down, just as I had taught him.

Gradually, he began to extend the range of his kisses, sliding up her ankle to her thigh, and then to her knee. It was an erotic sight, watching my slave service Helen, observing the slight blush around her neck and cheeks as she became aroused by his ministrations. He kissed her thighs, sliding his tongue up and down the soft flesh, leaving delicate saliva trails, raising gentle goosebumps on her skin. She moaned and settled back in the settee, opening her legs wider. Mr Loverman pressed forward, his tongue probing and stretching, grazing up her thigh to the edge of her panties. He nestled his face against them, pressing his nose hard against her, sliding it up and down on her clitoris as he pushed forward, forcing his tongue deeper, drawing it across her panties, marking the line from her slit to her anus.

"Oh, oh, oh," she moaned, her hand flattened against her brow like a pre-Raphaelite maiden. (And wouldn't a good servicing have done them the world of good - palid, insipid little creatures that they were?) She turned round on the settee and rested her arms against the back, pressing her shapely arse in the air. Her scanty knickers had ridden up her crack and both cheeks, generous and soft, were displayed before Mr Loverman's waiting face. "Lick," she shouted, "lick, lick." This girl sure liked to be licked.

Mr Loverman bent forward, his tongue projecting from his mouth, and gently licked her left cheek. She pushed back, forcing herself onto his face, and Mr Loverman buried himself between her cheeks: just the position he had been in this morning, with me, before we were interrupted by Helen's arrival. I felt a tinge of jealousy, and a mischievous notion entered my head. Mr Loverman was lavishing attention on Helen's backside by now, licking energetically up and down her crack and nuzzling his nose deep against her.

I sat forward and slid my foot underneath the broom. Idly, I raised my leg and lifted the broom a couple of inches in the air. Mr Loverman screamed as the handle, deeply embedded in his backside, shifted inside him. I did it again, and again, and again, and each time Mr Loverman emitted a satisfying scream. What this must be doing to him I couldn't begin to imagine. As it pressed against his prostate it would sending messages up and down his body, and his little dick would be becoming engorged. That is, it would if it weren't for the cock cage which refused to allow it to grow. And that, I knew, would be quite excruciating.

I experimented, sliding it from side to side, up and down, even in and out. It didn't require much movement to elicit a frenzied response from the impaled poppet. I knew if I did this long enough I could make him come, but of course I didn't want that to happen: he was forbidden to come again until he did so inside the buxom Pamela, when she returned from holiday in three weeks. I contented myself, then, with occasional tweaks and twists, piling on the pressure for poor Mr Loverman.

Helen was in her element, grinding her arse against his face, all the while strumming her fingers against her pussy. She pulled her knickers to the side and pushed back, forcing Mr Loverman's tongue directly on to her ring. She squealed with delight as he begin to flick against it, and pulled at her cheeks, opening herself up to allow him to squeeze his tongue inside. Mr Loverman, a practised veteran at this manoeuvre, quickly bored his way inside her and began to rim her energetically. This was too much for Helen and with a loud scream she began to climax. Pushing back as hard as she could she forced Mr Loverman's tongue deep inside her, while I ensured that he pressed forward as energetically as he could by rotating and pushing on his broom. Helen screamed and screamed, her body convulsed and shaking, hands clenched and muscles spasming. Her orgasm swept through her with violent force, and I couldn'd help feeling distinctly jealous of the intensity of her reaction. I resolved to ensure that Mr Loverman sent me to the same delicious edge of ecstacy at the next opportunity. Slowly, Helen's climax began to subside, her buttocks clenching and unclenching as she drew the last few drops of pleasure from it. Panting, her arms draped over the settee, she turned round to me and grinned.

"That slave can lick," she said.