Life Had Been a Bitch

Life had been a bitch the last few months, personal matters taking over every aspect of her life. Her Dominant side had been covered by a thick blanket of everything vanilla. Now things were beginning to settle down in to something resembling normal her mind began once again wander in to the world of Domme, sub and how she loved it and even more, needed it.

Her supposed vanilla friends had been noticeably absent since her loss but her friends both sub and Dom/me had been constant in their time with her. Listening to her, holding her and helping her through a time which she thought she would never recover from.

But, she was and little by little, growing strong again, believing that all it needed was time and understanding. Now, every so often her mind wandered back to the club where she has been in her element and dreamed of going back. Other times she would just smile as she remembered a good time and looked forward to giving more to her good memories.

It was one of these times as she sat in her living room drinking a cup of tea that she started remembering a particular night when her sub has been restrained and he was being subjected to everything pleasurable and painful as he knew he would when he was with her. She looked at the heavy chandelier in the room which she had often used with him and smiled. Taking another sip of her drink she was startled when someone knocked on the door.

Strange, she thought, she wasn't expecting anyone. She put her drink down and began to rise only to hear the knock again, only louder and stronger the second time. She cursed at the caller's impatience and opened the door with strength and annoyance. There in front of her, smiling was her sub. So surprised at his arrival she couldn't say anything at first, but gathering her thoughts she said 'Think of the devil and he shall appear' and then laughed.

A simple greeting of 'Good morning Mistress' was given to her as she showed him in. He knew his way round her home. He had been hers for 6 years now and knew her and her home as much as she did. Without command he entered the kitchen and put the kettle on, making only his Mistress a fresh drink, he did not speak. Taking it through to the living room, he placed it on the coffee table by her side and went down to his knees, his head bowed at her feet.

She was already smiling, his presence always calming her, making her feel immensely better. She asked him why the privilege of his visit and he simply said 'For your pleasure, Mistress.'

He had from time to time come to her unexpectedly but over the past 18 months life for him as well had meant time was of a premium and visits were few. Both of them valued their time together highly, not always playing but sometimes just talking or even time spent in silence was enough for them both.

Her drink was now cool but she still took her time to drink it. Not until she had finished did she speak to him again. 'Head up.'

He did as she commanded and she smiled at him. A simple smile from her was all he needed for him to speak without verbal permission. He asked her is his visit was a welcome one and she smiled again. He knew that his visits were always welcome and she would always make time for him where possible.

The next word she spoke was one he heard nearly every time he saw her.

'Strip!'

He did as he was told and soon his clothes were in a neat pile on the edge of the sofa. Back to his knees he awaited her next command. She stroked his head, the short hair soft under her touch. She often teased him that he felt like a cuddly toy with his body hair and as much teased him with the threat of waxing him to which he always shuddered and offered a silent 'no way' look to her. They both knew it would never happen but the effect was always the same. She continued to stroke him as she asked if he had missed her. He had, he always does, their time together although limited was fantastic. They had the levels of friendship, Mistress/sub and so much more. There had been tears, laughter over the years and as the time went on it furthered into where each would trust the other with their lives, literally. Something which rarely happened, in any relationship.

She told him to show her how much he had missed her presence and while he usually worshipped her booted feet, this time he went straight to her feet and began to kiss them. Each toe in turn before he covered the rest of her feet in minute kisses. Once covered, he sat up and showed her how hard he was. He was fully erect, his cock already showing signs of pre cum. It was something she immediately noticed and told him so.

'My, my, you have missed your Mistress.' A smile playing on her lips as she said it.

'Mistress, you have no idea how much I have missed you. My dreams have had you there a lot, my time awake has been filled with thoughts of you. Permission to show you Mistress how much your cock has missed you?'

'Granted.' Was the simple reply and he immediately began to stroke himself.

Long, slow, deliberate strokes entertained her. She would often watch intently as he wanked, watching his cock grow where she thought it could harden no more, watch his face where the pleasure was clear. Whether the pleasure was because of his own actions or whether it was because he was doing some thing to please his Mistress, she didn't know but then she didn't care. She always said that if her subs and slaves were happy then she would be also.

More pre-cum leaked and he asked her if he could taste her pleasure to which she agreed. With a single finger he took the fluid to his mouth and cleaned it. The taste of his cum seemed to urge his body on and he felt the need to cum. He quietly asked her is he could and she denied him. Instead she took him by her own hand and stroked him. She knew this would drive him possibly over the edge but as she stroked his hard length she warned him.

'Cum, and you will leave here as you are, your clothes following you separately.'

He knew that the threat was also a promise. She never joked when she commanded him. He willed himself not to cum, his thoughts becoming of the most mundane, to distract him from disobedience of the worst kind. For a few more seconds she increased her touch, more firmly. Do it right and it would become impossible for him to cum. He would not soften neither would he cum. Sexual frustration was one of her favourite past times with him, apart from of course when she tormented his entire body with both pain and pleasure. He quickly got to the point of frustration, quickly and painfully begging her to stop. She ignored him, as she always did, until her fill of amusement was reached she would continue.

If she had no further use of her cock (it was hers from the moment they met, he was just the caretaker of it) she would tease him without mercy but today as she had been surprised by his visit she thought it wise to let him recover. Who knows what she might plan to do later. She stopped her teasing and watched him as his body sagged from the physical exertions she had put him through. It always made her think that she could play with just one small part of a male sub yet his whole body would suffer from the playing and teasing. Oh well, she concluded, who cares?

She lit a cigarette and when he raised himself up she pulled him to her, exhaling as she kissed him. He didn't smoke but he adored it when she exhaled in his face up close or even better when she kissed him. As she continued to smoke she blew the smoke upwards denying him anymore. As she stubbed out the cigarette she kissed him again passionately, not entirely dominantly but with a passion she had only for him. Her tongue sought out his and they danced in erotic moves. Her hands stroked over him, his shoulders, his chest. Her finger tips caressed his nipples to the point where he shivered, with just the merest of caresses. His hands meanwhile were aching to hold her. As she explored him, it stopped him from touching her but the more heat she felt at her core, the more her hands stilled until her hands lay flat against his chest. His hands then stroked her covered arms, wishing it could be skin against skin. She must have felt the wishful thought and she raised her arms from him, giving him silent permission to remove the garment. The sight of her sat there so close to him while just in a laced white bra make him instantly hard again, actually he hadn't lost his erection from her previous teasing just now he was as hard as hard could be.

As he had arrived unexpectedly she was dressed in casual wear, a short denim skirt, and t-shirt with bare feet. Now without the t-shirt, the skirt was thought as a hindrance. Legs apart as he was between them she stood up and undid the fastenings to her skirt. Edging it done slowly she gave him an inch by inch show of the matching white lacy thong that barely covered the heat she was feeling. He could do nothing but stare at what she was revealing. Corny it maybe but all he could think was that he was kneeling before a supreme goddess. One who he worshipped with his body, mind and soul.

When her skirt was taken down as far as it could do with her standing as she was, she sat back down, her eyes almost level with his. Her smile reached her eyes and they glinted with an arousal she had only with him. Her hands took his head and brought him to her, again kissing him deeply. His hands stroked her arms again then moved to her bare thighs, feeling the silky soft skin. His hands travelled higher, meeting the white lace. Fingers edged underneath the material and sought out the centre of her heat. He found what he was seeking and caressed her gently. At once she moaned, her sounds mingling with their kisses. A thumb replaced his fingers which sought out the liquid heat. He found it and sank a finger into her wetness. One finger was replaced by 2 and combined he began his ministrations to bring her to orgasm.

He knew what worked and what would have her crying for release. As his Dominant she could stop him but her body craved what he could do and she cried out for him, he slowed as he felt her body tighten around him she begged him not to stop, to please make her cum. Of course if Mistress asked he could do nothing but obey. His lips never left hers and his touch varied slightly to include that little place deep within her that would very soon have her crying out in sheer ecstasy. She tightened around him, his fingers becoming trapped to where only his finger tips caressed her. Her hands which had been holding his shoulders now held the nails that were biting in to his skin. With a final caress her whole body tensed around him. Her head thrown back as she cried out his name. Even in orgasm he was her slut and slut was cried out in a deep guttural tone. His fingers continued in their assault not stopping to allow her respite. Her body relaxed for a brief few moments but soon encountered a new wave of pleasure. Deeper and more violent her body began to respond. She begged him to stop, cried for him to stop, but they both knew that she didn't mean it. To stop now would be something she couldn't handle. Her body was extremely sensitive to sensation, her mind sensitive to the merest sexual change when she was this aroused.

Her second orgasm was followed by a base instinct scream. She tried to push him away but not wanting to let go. He held her tight as she rode the climax. Like the raging white waters, she went with it until she came down in pure exhaustion.

He still held her, comforting her, his quiet words helping to bring her down. She lent in against him, feeling his heart beating in double time. Each of her breaths trying to match his, so she could become coherent. She purred in contentment as he held her, a smile playing on her lips that could only come from what he had given her.

They held each other for what seemed an age but probably only a few minutes. He asked her in a way that only he could get away with if that was what his Mistress wanted and if that was what pleased her. And she replied by gently slapping him and saying that what the fuck did he think?

When coherent enough to command she asked for a drink. Her commands were mostly given by asking and saying please but he knew that just because she said please that in no doubt it was still a command. He stood and bowed to her, then leaving to make the drink she had asked her. As he made it she looked down at herself and suddenly felt shy. A silly feeling but while he was absent from the room she dressed. He came back into the room and found her comfortable on the sofa, her clothing appeared as though it had never been touched. He placed her drink at her side then went down back onto his knees.

By a glance, she noticed he was still hard and for everything he had given her, she allowed him to wank. She occasionally nudged his balls with her foot which along with her words of pure rudeness soon brought him to the boil. Asking again if he could come this time she said yes. But, on the condition that it was into a glass of juice which he then would drink. He readily agreed and still stroking himself he fetched a glass and filled it half full with orange juice from the fridge. On his return to her he placed the glass on the floor and in all earnest wanked. As her body had tensed from his touch now his body tensed from it. While in the throes of a powerful climax he cum still went in to the glass and mixed with the orange liquid.

She watched him, entranced in the sight of a man coming so hard for her. On her command his cum squirting in to a glass to be drunk.

He finished himself and she gave him a minute to recover his senses. When he was ready he did not ask to drink from the glass but simply picked the glass up and drank, finishing every drop in one go. Placing the empty glass back on the floor, he bent down kissed each of her feet in turn and saying 'Thank you Mistress.' After such an explosive meeting her spirits had lifted, now knowing she was ready to become what she once was those months ago: powerful, sexual, dominant and that was a feeling she relished once again.

Their energies were both spent and both needed time just to come down from the high they had induced in each other. He remained at her feet, naked, but chatted about several things including which might sound a little silly, the weather and how it was perfect for going out on his bike. A very sexy yamaha, something that she could comfortably travel on. That in turn changed the conversation slightly to the leathers they wore and both without saying a word felt the sexual pull of the conversation.

He glanced at the clock and making a couple of time calculations realised that he had time to take her out if she so wished to. She never turned down a chance to ride with him now. After the first time where she forgot to breath until he stopped she found the experience of being a passenger on the powerful bike an exhilarating and sexual past time. She told him to dress himself while she changed.

A few minutes later she came back downstairs, wearing leather trousers, heeled black boots and an open leather jacket revealing a push up black bra. He openly stared at the sight but pulled himself together when she laughed and asked if he was ready. He knew what he was ready for but instead of confirming to her what a slut he was (not that she needed telling) he said yep and they set off. Both thinking of different things they travelled the local roads till they hit the dales and a secluded picnic area.

Stopping at a secluded, deserted layby, which only was known by other bikers and was deserted at this time of day, they removed their helmets and smiled, both knowing what the other was thinking .........