Sam
["What the fuck are you doing Samira?"] Sam said quietly, in Arabic.
Sam stood wearing just a babydoll top and tanga style panties, both black, looking at herself in the large bathroom mirror in her en suite. Princess lay on her bed in the other room, naked.
Princess's last orgasm the day before had nearly wiped her out; she was barely able to move afterward. Sam had released the restraints and carried her to the guest bedroom where she'd promptly taken a nap.
Then Sam had lost her mind. At least that's what she thought now.
Sam had gone back to the master bedroom, stripped naked, and grabbed the used vibrator, immediately taking it into her mouth and savoring the flavors on it. She'd laid her head down in the massive wet spot Princess had created while she licked and sucked every bit of juice off the toy. Then she'd rammed it in her own pussy and put the vibrator on max.
With Princess's taste on her lips and her smell all around her head, Sam had brought herself off three times over the next twenty-five minutes.
She'd pulled the dildo out of herself and examined the gloss coating her juices gave it, including the little string of moisture going from her labia to the tip of the rounded end.
I should make Princess lick this clean. How would the girl know it wasn't her own girl cum coating the toy?
That thought had snapped her out of whatever lust craze she'd been in. She'd just been about to trick the girl into doing something. You didn't do that. One of the foundations of the dom/sub relationship is that you never lied to your sub. You did not break trust like that. Arguably telling the truth was most of the fun; you always described exactly what you were going to do, or what the sub had to do, and you watched them come to terms with their future.
You never tricked them. If you had to manipulate and gaslight your sub into doing what you wanted, that said more about you as a dom than anything, and none of what it said was good.
Princess had given her hard limits. Sam had pushed those limits today, making her think she would use her fingers and then her mouth to get the girl off. True, Princess had said she might be okay with someone doing things
to
her when she didn't have to reciprocate, but Sam was almost sure that had been bravado, Princess claiming to be okay with something just to save face because she assumed if she completely ruled out girl/girl activity Sam would have dismissed her.
Sam washed the toy in water hot enough that it almost burned her hands, then stripped the bed. She'd purchased a waterproof mattress a long time ago, thankfully, because the fitted sheet had been wet enough Samira could have wrung moisture out of it.
Sam felt a little twinge of...something...when she'd remembered sniffing her hands and sucking on her finger a little after putting the sheets in the wash.
Then the rest of the evening had progressed. Sam took Princess for a shower first. She'd been worried about the girl staying upright so she'd gone in with her slave. But she'd put on a bathing suit. She thought she'd seen disappointment in Princess's eyes when she appeared for the shower in the one-piece, but the girl was half-conscious; it could have been anything. Fortunately Princess had mostly washed herself, though The Don's comment about torturing herself came back into her head as she watched the nubile girl in the shower.
Despite what anyone says, people can get used to almost anything with enough exposure. If you got a bunch of Victoria's Secret models to walk around naked at a frat house of straight college "bros" 24/7, it wouldn't make them hard all the time. Maybe for the first couple of days, but after a week or two most of them would think it was normal, and only react to them if they really focused or the girls did something. It was the same reason guys at nude beaches or nudist colonies weren't erect all the time.
Princess had been walking around all but naked in Sam's house for weeks, but seeing her soap and rinse herself in the shower caught Sam off guard. The perky, near-perfect D-cup breasts, the heart-shaped ass, the pussy lips that came together in a tight slit between her legs (though they'd been a little swollen and red in the shower), and the clear, smooth, pale skin of the girl all looked different under the water spray.
It had taken all of her self-control to behave herself when Princess had asked for help washing her back. Especially because she thought, but couldn't prove, that Princess had pushed her ass back farther as Sam's hands traveled down her back.
Sam could have demanded Princess fess up to whether she'd done it on purpose, but she'd been afraid of the answer.
She'd ordered dinner out and Princess had been unusually clingy, so Sam had let her pull her chair over and Sam had fed her. By the end of dinner, the girl was in her lap, curled up against her. During Princess's free time, she'd stayed in the room with Sam as she watched some streaming shows, once again in her garters and stockings.
At bedtime, Sam hadn't had the heart or willpower to demand Princess use the trundle. She'd let the girl sleep in bed with her.
When she'd woken up in the morning, Princess was fully snuggled up to her, one leg draped over hers, her head resting on Sam's breast. Sam had idly trailed her hand down Princess's back to her ass and groped the girl, who'd unconsciously moaned in response.
That moan had shocked Sam awake, and was part of the reason she was staring at herself in the mirror.
Dakota Song was a heterosexual woman. Every romantic liaison of hers that had ever made it to the tabloids had been with a guy. Granted, for several years it had been with a gay guy whose sexuality had been obvious to everyone long before his public coming out. But there had been a few stories about Dakota "cheating" on her man. Sam assumed, now knowing the truth, those had been times when Dakota's libido had finally gotten the better of her and she needed some sort of physical release she couldn't get from her homosexual beau. And they'd always been with a guy.
She'd been blindfolded. She couldn't see that it was my fingers, my lips down there. She probably imagined it was her ex-boyfriend, or some fantasy lover. Who had a cock. And was a man. Same thing with this morning; she was asleep, she didn't know who she was snuggling up to, just that it was a warm body.
Sam decided to ignore the shower. She'd probably imagined that Princess pushed back into her.
But that still left her with a problem. Or "a challenge" as she would have said to her project team at work.
["I want that girl. I want to make her bury her face between my legs and cover her face with my cream, then I want to torture and taste every inch of that starlet's body."]
It was a technique a therapist had used to encourage Sam to admit things about herself, because Sam had issues opening up. Speaking in Arabic was just to make sure there was no possibility that Princess would understand what she said.
She'd known Dakota Song was submissive. But not all submissives were cut out to be slaves. Most of them weren't, in fact. Some confined it to the bedroom and related activities, some wanted to branch out and do it on the weekends and at the parties like they went to, but otherwise stay vanilla in their lives. More dedicated subs might have an "all weekend and every weekday after 7:00" schedule or something similar. Very few subs had the energy, dedication, or desire to be submissive at a dom's call 24/7.
Sam had assumed (maybe even hoped) that once the realities of a slave's position set in with the girl, she'd tap out. She'd figure a few days of walking around with her tits out and her pussy on display for a bitchy woman who hit her with a stick was quite enough to get the idea. It wasn't like the film actually required her to be a slave on set, just look the part.
But Princess had held on. She'd held on even when Sam fucked up and given her a panic attack. She'd held on through Sam showing her off to a room full of strangers. She'd held on after she'd been
physically attacked
.
Sam thought it might just be stubbornness. Some people were like that; you tell them they can't do something and they keep trying just so they can prove whoever told them wrong. The problem was, submissives usually
