07

Dedicated to Katie M., a devoted reader and a true submissive. This is a continuation of her fantasy. Perhaps her Mistress will allow her to read this story and finger herself to a climax.

WARNING: This story contains a watersports scene. It also involves lesbian sex.

It's not necessary to read Chapters 01-04 to read this story, although it does provide additional background.

Katie Miller-- 29 year old lesbian working for a real estate developer as an in-house attorney. Full figured woman of average stature with ample breasts and strawberry blonde hair. After bungling an important work assignment she agrees to "do anything" to make it right with her company's outside counsel, Demetrius ("Demi") Giannopoulos.

Demi Giannopoulos -- late 40's woman of Greek heritage, managing partner of a Manhattan based law firm. Has secretive personal life that is revealed to Katie in steps -- that she is a Domme by nature and enjoys watching Katie submit to her as well as others. Tall, attractive, dresses well and loves to wear sexy lingerie.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, merchandise, companies, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are 18 years or older when in sexual situations.

Chapter Five

I was madly in love with Mistress.

She was, in my humble view, a Greek Goddess.

I fell into a "relationship" with Demi in the oddest possible way. I basically screwed up a work assignment for her because I was daydreaming about her instead of doing the work I was assigned. I fell on my knees to beg for forgiveness and instead I ultimately received her love. Well, that's my interpretation of what transpired, my submission to her and her unconventional ways of expressing her love to me.

As a lawyer I was trained to research issues. In my case, I didn't understand the world I was being pulled into. I put the word "relationship" in quotation marks because my relationship with Mistress was not a relationship in a traditional sense, you know, a relationship between equals, or as much as you can make it equal. In many cases a traditional relationship will fail because one of the parties doesn't feel he or she is an equal member of the relationship. I've had a number of those relationships, most of them where I felt that I was the second class citizen and deserved better. Those relationships were doomed to failure and did fail.

My "relationship" with Mistress was different. At the outset, there was an explicit agreement that she would control all aspects of our interaction. She would text me with directions or would give those directions to me in person. I would obey. I would be punished if I failed to obey. There no was lack of clarity in our relationship.

I found that I was eager to willingly surrender complete control and that I craved Mistress's approval above all else. Mistress had unexpectedly tapped into a bottomless well of desire. My research revealed that I was in a classic dominant/submissive relationship and that I exhibited all the characteristics of a submissive. To obey without question. To crave the approval of the dominant. To be sexually aroused by the transfer of control. All of it applied to me. But a question still remained. What were the depths of my submission to her? The exploration of those depths was one of the exciting elements of our relationship.

But how could such a relationship be sustained? I reflected on that question as well. I believed that the foundation of a long-term D/s relationship is trust. Could I completely trust Mistress? Did she trust me? She had already taken me completely out of my comfort zone. I hadn't had sex with a man in years, and yet she had me spreading my legs for a complete stranger. She valued her privacy. She trusted me with her most closely guarded secret -- that she was a lesbian (or bisexual?) and that she derived sexual pleasure from watching others have sex. We both had implicit trust in the other.

I was learning that being a submissive was an exercise in patience and restraint. After my last session with Mistress the waiting began again. It was already a week of silence and I had heard nothing from Mistress. I was in my office on a normal workday when a Federal Express delivery person came to my office. I thought it was a bit unusual, as the mailroom typically took all deliveries and then had the packages brought up to my office.

"I'm surprised you're here. Shouldn't you be delivering all packages to the mailroom?" I asked Mr. FedEx.

"You're right ma'am. But this package requires your signature." He presented me with an electronic tablet. I signed and took the package.

It was a package with the return address of a jeweler in another state. I was puzzled. I hadn't ordered anything that I could remember. I tore open the cardboard box and found a wrapped present inside. The package was wrapped in red foil and had a large white bow on it. I used my scissors to cut the package open, only to find a velvet covered jewelry case inside. I opened the hinged lid slowly and found inside a heavy gold rope necklace with a small heart shaped pendant engraved with the letter "M" in cursive, surrounded by small diamonds and rubies. The beauty of the necklace took my breath away.

I opened the small card that was inside the jewelry case. It read as follows:

To "K," my sweet pet. "M"

I was overjoyed. Tears came to my eyes. The "M" on the pendant was for Mistress. She wanted me to wear this close to my heart. I ran to the ladies' room and put the necklace on in front of the mirror. It was perfect.

I walked back to my office, radiating a glow from this most intimate gift from Mistress. My assistant stopped me on the way back.

"Lovely necklace. Present for yourself?"

I hadn't thought about what I would tell others. I couldn't tell them the truth. "Yes, the "M" is for Miller."

"It looks great on you."

I went back to my office, clutching the pendant in my hand and thinking about Mistress. She did love me. I wondered when she would say it out loud to me. Her pedestal just got a few feet higher. I hoped for a message from her but didn't receive one that day. I banished the thought of texting her a thank you. I knew that Mistress wanted to control our communications. Patience and restraint, I told myself.

The next day another package arrived. This time I signed eagerly, and then shut my office door to see what Mistress had sent me. I ripped open the package like a child at Christmas. It was a vibrator. But not one I'd used before. It was a "rabbit" that looked like a cactus. The main shaft was shaped like a phallus, and there were two "arms," the shorter one to stimulate my clitoris and the longer one to insert in my ass. It came with a set of batteries and a detailed instruction book.

As with the other gift there was a card inside:

To my sweet bunny rabbit, A rabbit for your pleasure. Use it every night, but don't be a naughty girl and cum without my permission! "M"

I looked at the outside packaging:

Versatile and pleasure-packed vibrator with a wide range of functions for never-ending naughty fun!

Features 3 extensions that deliver mind-blowing internal and external stimulation!

Anal probe for backdoor pleasure!

Main shaft for inner stimulation and exciting G-spot massage!

Clitoral stimulator with a flat head for complete clit coverage and arousal!

Programmed with 8 exciting speeds for each motor, 3 intense vibration modes, and 8 rotation patterns -- can be varied to create more than 500 pleasure combos!

Loaded with 3 powerful motors for triple the pleasure

Rotating beads in the shaft for enhanced inner stimulation!

Waterproof sex toy that you can use in the bath or shower for erotic water fun!

That insidious woman! Giving me a device designed to ignite my body and then telling me not to turn on the flame. She was obviously testing my powers of restraint. My powers of restraint were poor to begin with. Just ask the empty carton of ice cream in my trash bin. Once I opened a carton of ice cream I was unable to stop until all of it was gone. How was I going to use this magical device and not cum? I shoved the vibrator back in its packaging and put it into my briefcase. I tried to forget about it and get back to work.

The suspense was killing me. Not more than fifteen minutes later I put the batteries in the vibrator, secreted it in my purse and made my way to the ladies' room. I checked the stalls. They were all empty. I chose the stall farthest from the door and locked it. I sat on the front of the toilet seat and pulled down my panties to my ankles. Wet of course. Mistress was right. I was a wanton slut. My restraint lasted exactly fifteen minutes. I turned the vibrator on its lowest setting. It made a faint buzzing noise that I prayed couldn't be heard outside my stall. I slid the longer middle shaft easily into my sopping wet pussy and then pulled it out and inserted each of the arms in my pussy to lubricate them. Then I re-inserted the longer shaft inside my pussy and the anal probe inside my ass. The shortest arm was vibrating directly on my clit.

Oh fuck. The claim on the packaging was spot on. It claimed that the rabbit could "deliver mind-blowing internal and external stimulation." I felt as if I was touching a live wire. Every single pleasure receptor in my body was screaming with delight. Somehow while pursuing orgasmic bliss I heard the door open to the restroom. Apparently the buzzing noise was much louder than I thought. A voice from the other side of the door said, "Are you OK?"

Shit. It was my assistant Melanie. I was so amped up and nervous that when I pulled out the vibrator to turn it off I dropped the juice slickened device on the floor. It clattered on the tile floor, travelling across it as it continued to buzz. I lunged for it but missed as it skittered across the floor and underneath the stall door. My worst nightmare! I saw Melanie's hand reach down and pick it up. Moments later I heard it turned off.

How was I going to explain this?

I cleaned myself up the best I could with toilet tissue paper and then pulled up my panties. I opened the stall door. Melanie was facing me, holding the vibrator between her fingers, and grinning widely.

"Lose something?"

I held out my hand. She put the vibrator in it.

"Thank you," I said sheepishly.

"My pleasure ... or I guess I should say 'Your pleasure,'" she replied with a giggle.

"I'm so embarrassed. I'm sorry you had to see this. Can we forget this just happened?" I asked, knowing full well this was something you could NEVER forget.

"Of course," she chirped, then turned around to wash her hands. I dropped the vibrator in my purse and slipped out of the restroom, grateful that Melanie had turned away to allow me a small shred of dignity.

I returned to my office and shut the door. My heart was still hammering in my chest. I didn't think I could ever live down the embarrassment of that moment. Why couldn't I have just waited until I got to the privacy of my bedroom to have tried out this devilish device? The answer was simple -- I lacked self-restraint. Tonight would be another test.

The rest of the workday crawled by. No messages from Mistress. Thankfully Melanie decided to avoid my office. I'm not sure I could have faced her again. I was out of there at exactly 5 p.m., taking a route to the front door that would bypass Melanie's cube.

I arrived at my apartment and shed my coat and stripped down to my bra and panties. I went into the fridge, poured myself a full glass of chardonnay and then proceeded to guzzle it. I was halfway through my second glass when I was calm enough to pull Mistress's gift from my purse. I still had on her necklace, and nervously fingered the pendant as I perused the instructions.

I experimented with it, picking a speed, vibration, and rotational pattern. What happened to the old days when a vibrator had just an "on" and "off" switch? I flung myself on the bed and then shed my bra. I then went for my panties and much to my disgust found that they were sopping wet. Of course, the humiliation of today's event made me randy. Crap, I really was turning into a slut. I was going to get myself off. How would Mistress know?

Then my phone chimed.

Demetria G: You naughty girl. Don't cum without permission!

Fuck. Is my entire life an open book? How did she know I was about to fire up the vibrator and make myself cum? Now I was panicked. I was certain I couldn't lie to her with a straight face. I didn't want to disappoint her and I sure as hell didn't want to be punished. The ruler she used on me last time hurt like hell and the red marks on my ass were still evident.

But here I was. Naked on my bed with a vibrator in my hand. I went into the top drawer of my nightstand and took out a bottle of lube. I lubed up the vibrator and turned it on. I pushed the vibrator inside of me and of course it went in effortlessly as I was practically dripping like a faucet. The effect was even better than that afternoon. My adjustments to the vibration and rotation of the vibrator advanced me quickly to the brink of a head splitting orgasm.

Right as I was about to cum I had the mental image of Mistress pounding my ass with her wooden ruler. I jerked the vibrator out of me and yelled at the ceiling, "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" I lay on my bed gasping for breath as my orgasm denied literally knocked the wind out of me. The vibrator was still incessantly buzzing on my bed. I had to squelch the thought of throwing the vibrator against the wall, smashing it into a thousand pieces.

My phone chimed again.

Demetria G: Does bunny rabbit want to cum?

She was asking me a question. I was given permission to reply.

Katie M: Yes please Mistress.

Demetria G: In due time my pet.

I don't think a text message ever made me cry. I was sobbing uncontrollably. I wanted to see Mistress. I wanted to cum. My life was shit. I cried myself to sleep without any supper.

Chapter Six

The next day wasn't much better, in fact it was worse. The day started with a staff meeting. Melanie of course was there and although she probably wasn't laughing at me every time I looked at her I saw a smile that I read as a laugh. I suspected everyone else in the room knew as well (even though I trusted Melanie with many secrets, not just this one). I was sweating, even though the room was air conditioned.

The rest of the day dragged on. I checked my phone every 15 minutes for a text from Mistress. Of course nothing. When the clock finally registered 5 p.m. it was back to my apartment. This time I decided to eat dinner first and then address the instrument of torture. I had three glasses of wine with dinner so was feeling no pain when I picked up Mr. Rabbit. I was probably wetter than the day before and cursed the betrayal of my body. The more the humiliation, the wetter I became. I turned the rabbit to its lowest setting and this time pushed it in slowly. It was heavenly. The ascent was slower and agonizing. Could I obey Mistress?

"Yes, yes, yes," I cried to no one. I was going to cum.

Again, the image of Mistress with a scowl on her face flashed before my eyes. I reluctantly pulled the vibrator from my pussy, swore at the heavens, and then tried to watch television to take my mind off of my need. I was wholly unsuccessful, but at least I didn't cry when I finally fell asleep.

The next day was more of the same. Interminable staff meetings, imagined laughing from Melanie and the staff, and one or two changes of panties. It was drawing close to 5 p.m. when my phone chimed.

Demetria G: Be at my house at 7 p.m. Bring rabbit.

Yes! I would be able to see Mistress. She would let me cum, wouldn't she? I was elated. Then I realized I didn't know where she lived. And I didn't have her address. Mistress would punish me if I asked her, since her text did not give me permission to reply. I pulled out her firm phone directory and started calling the associates that I knew worked for her. On the fourth try I finally got someone who was in her office. It was Allison, one of her paralegals.

"Allison, thank God you're at your desk. Can you give me Demi's home address?"

"Who is this?"

"Sorry, this is Katie."

"Katie who?"

"Katie Miller, remember we worked on the construction contract together?"

"Oh yeah," she replied, chuckling. "You were the one that didn't read the revisions to the contract."

Oh shit. Does everyone have to remind me of that fuck-up? "Yes, that's me."

"Well we aren't allowed to give out personal information like that."

It was already 5:45. I only had an hour and a quarter to get the address, go home and change, and then go to Mistress's house, wherever that might be. My impatience was about to boil over.

"Look, I have something that I need to deliver to her."

"I'd be happy to give it to her in the morning. Why don't you bring it over here to our office?"

Regrettably, I exploded. "Look you little bitch. Just give me the fucking address. I'm a client of the firm and ..." The line went dead. "Hello?" I slammed the phone in the cradle.

One more try and then I would have to text Mistress and admit defeat. I called Stacie Johnstone, a senior associate. She flirted with me a few times and was definitely staring at my tits when we were working together in a small conference room. Stacie was an attractive closeted lesbian. The scuttlebutt in the office was that Stacie was a butch lesbian who loved attractive women. I was running out of time. Unfortunately Stacie was my last best hope.

"Hello Stacie, this is Katie Miller."

"Katie, good to hear from you. To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?" she said in a smarmy tone of voice.

"I need Demi's home address. I have to deliver something to her tonight. It's an important document that she asked me to personally deliver." That should have done it, especially with my embellishment.

There was a momentary pause. "No can do. I'd get fired for giving out personal information, especially Demi's address. You know how crazy she is about her privacy."

"But this is urgent."

Another pause. Unfortunately Stacie was as smart as she was attractive. "Wait a second. If Demi asked you to deliver a document to her house, how come she didn't give you her address?"

Shit. She got me there. It was time for true desperation. "Look Stacie, this is a personal matter. I swear I won't tell her that you gave me her address and you won't get in trouble for this."

"Well ... I don't know."

There was no time to mince words. "Stacie, I'll go down on you in your office if you give me her address."

I could see the hamster wheel in her head spinning wildly. "Uhhh, can I fondle your tits too?" I'm sure that was her pussy talking.

"Yes, now give me the fucking address."

She gave me the address, and now I had exactly one hour to be at Mistress's house.

I flew out of my office, hit the elevator button fifty times, raced out into the street and grabbed a cab and was back in my apartment in a record breaking fifteen minutes. I took a quick shower, changed into a denim skirt and tight white V-neck t-shirt and dashed down to the street to catch a cab. Mistress was about ten minutes away if I was lucky. As I was checking my purse for my wallet I realized I left the rabbit in my apartment. God damn it! I went back to my apartment, grabbed the rabbit and went back down to the street. Fortunately Mistress lived uptown and not crosstown so the cab ride only took eight minutes. I arrived at Mistress's apartment building at 6:59 p.m. Panting, I pushed the "call" button on the intercom.