Fated For College Ch 04

The door clicked open, and Celine stepped into the apartment dorm, the cool air brushing over her skin still damp from sweat. Her duffel bag hit the floor with a soft thud, and she ran a hand through her messy hair as she kicked off her sneakers.

It had been a long day--back-to-back classes, then a brutal workout session. Her muscles ached deliciously, but the thought of coming home to her suite and what was there kept her going.

And there she was.

Lia.

Lounging on the couch in a cropped tank and gym shorts, skin flushed and hair slightly mussed--fresh from her own workout. She looked peaceful, eyes closed, earbuds still in. Her chest rose and fell gently.

Celine's lips curled into a smile.

They hadn't played since that weekend. Not formally. They'd talked, flirted, teased--but neither had used the names.

Until now.

Celine crossed the room, sat beside Lia on the couch, and leaned in close.

"Pet," she said softly, but firmly.

Lia's eyes fluttered open, heart immediately skipping a beat. She blinked, confused for a moment--until she saw the glint in Celine's eyes.

"Strip and get on your knees in front of me."

It wasn't loud. It didn't need to be.

Lia hesitated--her body, mind, everything was tired. She had planned on a short nap, maybe a coffee too. But Celine's voice sent a jolt of heat down her spine. That single word--pet--changed everything.

Lia's pulse quickened. Slowly, almost instinctually, she slid off the couch, and stood before Celine. Her fingers went to the hem of her tanktop, pulling it up over her head. Then the shorts, tugged down her smooth legs, panties sliding with them. She knelt down onto the floor, naked and flushed, resting on her heels with her head bowed.

She felt raw. Exposed. Nervous in a way she hadn't even felt that first night.

But also... alive.

Celine exhaled, watching Lia's obedience--her skin gleaming faintly in the soft lamplight, her back straight, her face burning with tension and desire.

God, she was beautiful.

"Good girl," Celine said, crossing her legs. "I want a nice, loving foot massage. One that show how dedicated you are."

Lia looked up, and her face twisted into a moment of dismay.

Celine was still in her workout socks--damp, clinging, probably soaked with sweat.

Lia gulped.

She hesitated, nose twitching as she crawled forward. But the humiliation--the filthiness of it--was its own fuel. Her arousal pulsed between her legs, shame and need swirling together into something more.

With slow reverence, she peeled off the socks, trying not to inhale too deeply. The musky scent hit her anyway--raw, intimate, unfiltered.

She didn't run away.

She began to rub.

Her delicate hands massaged the soles of Celine's feet, working gently into the arches, kneading the tension from her toes and heels. Celine moaned softly and leaned back, eyes half-closed in satisfaction.

"Mmm... you're better at this than I imagined," she murmured.

Lia's hands trembled slightly, but she pressed on--focusing, devoted, kneading every inch of the foot.

After a few minutes, came the next command.

"You can do better than this," Celine said, voice tinged with amusement. "Use your mouth. I want to feel your devotion."

Lia froze.

But she knew. This was what Celine meant. A massage wasn't just about the act--it was about devotion and how far she was willing to go.

She hesitated--just for a moment--and then lowered her face to Celine's bare sole.

The first kiss was tentative. A press of lips to the sweat-slick skin. She heard Celine hum in approval, and it spurred her forward. She kissed again, and again, moving across the pads of her mistress's foot while her hands continued their work.

Each press of her lips deepened her submission. She let her tongue dart out, tracing the arch of Celine's foot, tasting salt and leather and her mistress. She buried her nose between Celine's toes, massaging with her face, lips, tongue.

The act was filthy. Humiliating. Perfect.

Her pussy throbbed.

Celine let out a deep groan, watching Lia's entire being devoted to this act of servitude. She'd never felt anything so erotically divine--her best friend, her pet, on her knees and worshipping her in every sense.

"God, you were made for this," Celine whispered.

After a while, Celine leaned forward and tangled her fingers in Lia's hair.

"Move upwards now."

Lia looked up through her toes and obeyed, trailing kisses up Celine's calves, thighs, until she reached the waistband of her shorts.

She hesitated but Celine nodded to go ahead.

Lia tugged the shorts down, and Celine lifted her hips slightly, letting them fall. Her panties followed, revealing the soft, flushed folds already glistening with anticipation.

Lia moaned softly and leaned in.

Her tongue parted Celine's lips, and the taste of her filled her mouth like electricity. She devoured her slowly, obediently, her hands still rubbing up and down Celine's thighs as her tongue worked deeper, more focused.

Celine cried out, fingers tight in Lia's hair, hips rolling gently against her face. The orgasm crested fast and sharp, flooding through her body in shudders.

She collapsed back, panting, flushed, dizzy with release.

Lia knelt back down, flushed and desperate. Her thighs were slick, her core pulsing with need.

"Mistress..." she whispered, voice thick with longing. "May I... may I cum too?"

Celine looked down at her with half-lidded eyes and a wicked smile.

"No."

Lia gasped.

"My pleasure comes first," Celine said gently. "Yours is a privilege. And next time, if you've earned it, you'll get it."

Lia whimpered, grinding her thighs together instinctively.

"And from now on, pet--you don't cum without my permission. Not even by yourself. That's a new rule."

Lia's eyes widened in protest--but something in her melted. The thought of losing her sexual urges to Celine's control, even outside their sessions, sent waves of heat through her.

"Yes, Mistress," she whispered, trembling.

Celine grinned, leaned down, and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

"Good girl."

Then she stood and walked to the bathroom, leaving Lia panting and needy on the floor, her body aching, her mind spinning.

She didn't touch herself.

She just knelt there, soaking in the denial like it was a gift.

And somehow, it was.