Obversion Perversion

She moved like a cloud, inconspicuously sailing on pins so fair, so utterly pallid, they were scarcely visible beneath her dusty violet dress of many layers. Any paler, they would have resembled dragonfly wings but without the charm of the rainbow iridescence evidenced by natures very own stained glass windows. All of this deemed her gossamer light in terms of presence yet ironically this did little to preserve her from notice.

'I see 'The Mouse' has been shopping at Audrey Lockhart's Granny boutique again,' smirked an impeccably dressed woman, sipping on a generous serving of Sancerre. 'How very insipid.'

The group of women she was with eyed Paige of the violet dress with crystalline eyes bejewelled by permafrost.

One of their number however was not so inexplicably consumed with avarice.

'That's not very fair Kenisha. I think she looks lovely. She seems like a sweet girl,' the outlier said.

Kenisha scoffed and flicked ebony hair.

'Maybe you should go speak to her then Charlotte. Because I certainly won't. I only invited her because her husband is hot.'

The other women feigned shock and giggled into their glasses of bubbles, leaving sticky smears of lip gloss around the edges.

To their consternation, Charlotte actually did approach Paige, who was standing by the drinks table trying in vain to open a bottle of beer.

'Oh! You scared me!' she cried jumping with a start. The bottle dropped to the grass fizzing and frothing wastefully into the multitude of criss crossing green blades.

Charlotte crouched and retrieved the bottle then grabbed some napkins to wipe off the foam that had spattered Paige's lace ivory flats.

'Good as new!' she smiled, standing up.

Paige looked awkward, hands fiddling, restlessly playing with her oversized collar.

'Thank you.'

'Not a problem.'

'I take it the beer was for your husband? Why don't I help you open a new one? Those caps can be tricky.'

'You're very kind,' Paige murmured, noting how pretty Charlotte was.

They opened several beers in fact and took them over to the men standing beside what now remained of the barbecue. Paige had one in each hand. Charlotte somehow, magically managed to carry six.

'Well would you look at that,' said Simon, who was Charlotte's partner of seven years. 'Angels bearing gifts.'

He planted a kiss on Charlotte's forehead and handed out the amber coloured bottles.

'Cheers!' they shouted raucously, tapping the necks together. Obviously these were not their first beers of the night. Nor would they likely be the last.

The other women came over too and although Paige was standing right there, a torrid exchange of flirtatious behaviour between her handsome husband Lorcan and the ladies bloomed. Primarily, it was conducted by Kenisha, who flashed gloating looks at the apparently humiliated Paige.

'Be a sweetheart Paige and fetch me another beer would you?' Lorcan said, momentarily halting his discussion regarding Kenisha's breast size following her recent surgical augmentation in California.

'Of course,' replied Paige meekly.

Charlotte trotted after her, repulsed by her submissiveness.

'Why are you letting them away with that?'

Paige grabbed a bottle from the ice bucket and as before, struggled earnestly with the cap.

'Letting them away with what?'

Charlotte rolled her eyes, hands on hips.

'Here. Give me that.'

She popped the lid and tossed it over her shoulder.

'Letting them disrespect you. It's gotta hurt.'

Paige smiled shyly and bobbed her head, her soft brown eyelashes fluttering against her milky cheeks.

'It's fine. Really. Thank you for your help Charlotte.'

And with that she returned to the group proffering her husband an icy beer, which he took without a word of gratitude.

Over the course of the evening, numbers were exchanged. Jokes rolled, drinks flowed but Paige as ever remained on the periphery. She never complained. She never spoke up. She just stood at Lorcan's elbow, invisible.

At 2am that evening, less than an hour after the party had ended, she received a text from the only person she had exchanged numbers with -- her shadow and her protector for the evening, the kindly Charlotte.

'I know tonight must have pained you hunny. They weren't nice. Not nice at all. Women can be such bitches. If you need to talk anytime I want you to know I'm here ok.'

Panting hard and wiping sweat from her brow, Paige smiled and typed back...

'Pain is not the enemy.'

The response to that was swift.

'What? Paige...please tell me you're safe? Please tell me everything is ok? Is Lorcan there?'

'Yes. No need for worry. Everything is perfect.'

'I don't understand.'

Her next reply was not a text message, it was a photo of her husband Lorcan, naked and fastened to a bench.

Then a second message arrived -- a text.

'Don't trust everything you see Charlotte sweetheart. Even salt can be confused with sugar.'

That had been the last thing Charlotte expected. For a few minutes her mind scrambled to understand.

'What's going on?'

'Nothing currently. I've taken a break from disciplining Lorcan to text you.'

'Wait, what?'

'Charlotte. Lorcan is receiving his punishment, like a good sub. At least he will be in a minute when we've finished talking. It won't harm him to wait.'

'Holy crap Paige! Are you saying you're like a Domme or something? You were faking tonight with all that humble shit?'

'Yes. And Lorcan is my secret bitch.'

'Oh. So all sugar on the outside and habanero salt on the inside?'

'Something like that.'

'Oh my wow! I can't believe this. You are full of surprises girl. I'd better let you get back to it then...and be sure to give him a smack on the ass for me. A hard one. He was an insolent swine to you tonight.'

'You can count on it, I assure you. Night Charlotte.'

'Night Paige.'

Paige put the phone down and stared at Lorcan's prone body. She read him. His signals. Even the ones he didn't intend. With his jeans and boxers puddled around his ankles and tied at every limb, the sight of him exhibited thusly moved her in ways she didn't even fully understand herself. The nervous blinking exhorted her to resume his punishment and make him moan for her breathlessly. The quickening breath, the eyes darting towards her, his tensed thigh muscles, the slight tremble of his body and that little sheen of sweat, all caused a fast growing euphoria in Mistress Paige.

She wasn't in her dowdy lilac dress now. She was stepping to a very different tune; one where she wore a purple from the darker end of the spectrum. A latex bustier of deepest amaranthine gripped her waist and pushed up her below average size bust. Its straps held up sheer black stockings and the little inverted v at the pelvis revealed Domme knickers with a convenient zip for subs to do obeisance of the oral kind.

She approached with a slow swagger, holding an ice cold beer in one hand and a whip in the other.

'Would you like another beer Sir?' she mocked in a girly voice.

He shook his head and she upended the bottle and drenched him in it.

Ahhh...!

'Did you say something Sub? I hope you didn't cry out?'

He shook his head to rid himself of the hoppy droplets.

'I'm afraid I did Miss. I apologise.'

She rounded on him, lashing his back three times in a row. Returning to stand in front of him, she gazed down, stroking his hair.

'I'm going to have to find ways of keeping you quiet I see.'

She took off one of her Louboutins and jammed it in his mouth. After standing back to look at him, she not very carefully applied exaggerated blush and lip gloss to him. Still she seemed discontent with her work.

'I know,' she muttered and hurried over to a set of drawers, withdrawing what looked like a handgun.

As she approached Lorcan realised what it was and shook his head, mouth frustratingly full of stilleto.

'Are you refusing? Are you really denying your Mistress?'

It hurt his neck to stare up at her. Yet he beseeched her with his handsome eyes. Her face held a warning. Something in her was ready to pounce. She waited. And waited.

Then he nodded, tilted his head, offering up his ear.

There was a cracking snap and the pale pink stud earring shot through the flesh of his lobe. He winced long and hard, gritting his teeth against the sting.

'Poor baby...just one more then we are all done.'

Swapping sides she pierced his other ear, then took photos of his degradation. For a little while, she rubbed his muscular back, her soft little hands drifting lower to the regions of his buttocks, thighs and quivering genitalia. These she gentled in palms coated in oil, glistening and skilled in their movements. She gave his balls a squeeze and then proceeded to give him the mother of all spankings. His back attempted to arch but he was tied too fast. He bit down on the Louboutin, sweat dripping, willing it to end and continue all at the same time.

Then she was gone.

He trembled as he waited. Eager but afraid; not really Lorcan any more but an alternate being governed by the basest of drives. She would come back, he told himself. She wouldn't leave him down here again all night. He hadn't really been that bad. Had he? Damn Kenisha for goading him on. Damn all that beer he'd drunk that had clouded his judgment.

A light appeared in the gloom revealing Paige holding a lantern. She used it to light a long thin piece of wood and this she in turn used to illuminate a medieval looking circular chandelier of scarlet candles hanging suspended above Lorcan's back.

By the flickering light of it, her enormous black strapon was now visible, jutting up from her narrow pelvis. The straps of it emphasized the white of her skin, the muscles beneath, gliding easily as she stalked. When she reached Lorcan and stood facing him, the intimidating shaft was exactly eye level. Waving slightly. Mocking him. Shaming his masculinity.

She removed his stiletto gag.

'I believe you know what to do little one.'

Lorcan nodded, bowing his head briefly. This amused her.

'Well then, get to work. This cock won't prepare itself.'

Obediently he took her tip in his mouth, running his tongue around the anatomically shaped tip as if he yearned for it. She took photos on her phone, admiring him. As she started to thrust a little it pinged. She opened the message whilst still idly fucking his face.

It was Charlotte again.

'I know this is bad. But I can't stop thinking about what you might be doing.'

She added a shock face emoji.

Paige sent a grinning devil emoji followed by a photo of her forcing her dick down Lorcan's throat.

'Holy fuck!' replied Charlotte.

Lorcan had an idea what she was doing and tears leaked from his eyes. She patted his head.

'Don't worry. It's only Charlotte. She won't tell. I don't think...'

She laughed and cast her phone onto a nearby chair then approached the rear end of her husband.

Completely helpless, he stood legs spread apart as she applied a liberal amount of patchouli lube to both the inside and outside of his asshole. Her thumb slipped in and he groaned.

'Like that do you?'

'Yes Miss.'

She worked him some more and exchanged the thumb for two fingers. Candle wax dropped onto his back just as she found and stroked his needy prostate.

He stifled profanities and attempted to thrust his bottom towards her.

'Please Miss,' he implored. 'Please use me as your dirty whore. I'm begging you.'

Using the handle of her whip, she nudged the chandelier so that more hot wax rained down on him to coincide with her breaching his entrance with her cock. He shrieked. Gentling him with a circling motion of her hand upon his thigh she pushed forward adding a second inch to the first that was already inside him.

Shaking a little herself, she commenced a slow rocking motion that allowed her to gain further entry in very small increments. Once he relaxed and she was all the way in, she raked her nails down his back and really began fucking.

The bench creaked, his head rolled. Curse words and sounds of ecstasy filled the air.

'Fuck me please! Yes, fucking fuck me hard Miss!'

'I intend to,' she grunted.

'Oh Miss, I need to cum already! Can I please?'

'Not yet.'

She slowed. For a while she just observed herself pushing in and sensuously withdrawing from his sticky red hot clasping hole.

'Mistress please!'

He pushed his ass towards her as best he could and she rewarded him with a forceful relentless rutting. His back was covered in sweat. His arms shook. Beneath him his turgid dick had smeared his whole groin in precum and as she thrust inside him one more time massaging his prostate deep inside, it moved his cock in such a way against the slippery cushioned bench that it felt like he was within her too.

'Cum for me,' she cried.

Inevitably he exploded into blinding white heat. Cum pumped from deep wells within him as if it would never stop. His ass spasmed around her as she ground into him, her soft skin pressing against his ass. She fell over his quaking body, crooning and caressing, praising every given evidence of his climax.

Eventually he stilled and lay there totally wrung out, panting softly.

'You did well,' she said, gently untying him and rubbing his legs.

'Thank you Miss.'

She helped him stand as she knew his body was weak and tired.

'We will go to bed now I think,' she said. ' But in the morning I want your tongue. That's how you are expected to wake me. Understand?'

'I will. Understood Mistress.'

Remnants of his ejaculate hung suspended from his cock then spilled in slow motion to the ground. They both eyed it with contentment.

'Such a good boy,' she said. 'Far too good for that tacky Kenisha.'

He smiled and placed a gentle kiss on her shoulder.

'This sub is yours. Yours alone.'

'I know. I never had a single doubt.'