Chapter 4 : Gemma.
"Tell me how it feels, Pix."
She was on her side, back to me and knee drawn up. She was caressing herself to order. My hand was in her bum and my voice was in her ear, reminding her of the details of our night out as she obeyed every instruction.
"It feels wonderful. It's exactly what I can stand, painful but just bearable and it makes me want to come. That's what I told Mistress Marcella. She asked me how it felt when you did that, so I told her the truth. I couldn't lie about it."
"Why did she ask you?"
"She was fucking me, and I didn't want to enjoy it but I couldn't help myself. You know what I'm like when you do me from behind, and it was so big and she was so deep and fast. And she was telling me what a cheap dirty slut I was, coming for a stranger the moment my own Mistress had turned her back. She said her slave must be getting it in the arse by now; how she'd dangled that in front of you since we arrived and she knew you'd just want to hurt her slave there. She told me how it would give you such a thrill that it was my spit lubricating your way in. She made me tell her how it felt to have you bugger me. I was telling her how good that is when she made me come."
"Are you coming now, Pix?"
"I'm so close ..."
"Alright, my little Pixie, just you listen to me for a moment. Shall we play again? Would you like to invite them here? No answers, Pix, just listen to the questions. Our house and our rules, sweetie; I'd let you string slave up by the wrists and beat her as much as you want. Would you like that? Or would you like me to let Marcella fuck you again? Here in my bed this time?"
She convulsed and throbbed round my fingers as she buried her face into the pillows and just screamed out all the frustration and fury. Dear Lord that felt good. Degrading her until she made me come was splendid, of course it was; but degrading her until she came herself ... Pure dominant satisfaction. I gave her a moment to settle before whispering in her ear.
"Such a disloyal time to come, my Pixie. You're such a cheap slut."
Silence for a moment, and then a hesitant small voice.
"Could you hear me?"
"The other night? Yes, Pix. 'Oh yes, Mistress, fuck me deeper. Ohhhh yes ...' Heard it all."
"I'm sorry."
"OK sweetie, time to be serious. Marcy and I get this, I imagine slave does too, but it's a bit new to you so perhaps you haven't worked it out yet. This is all role-play, like I said. You haven't let me down or betrayed me, you haven't had sex with other women. I took you there because I wanted to; I used Marcy and her slave to fuck you with. Just tools to use on you, nothing more."
"I wish you would let me call you something."
"Nobody calls me Mistress, Pix. I don't like the word. On your back now."
She rolled on her back and I straddled her chest. I'm sure she expected me to want her tongue, but I was in the mood for something a little different. I settled myself down over her breast, feeling the astonishing intimate tease of her hard nipple pressing at my cunt; her areola wrinkling and aroused against my labia. I took her hand in mine and pulled her finger to my clitoris. It was still damp with her juices as I started to work it against my own.
"If you ever call me 'Mistress', Pix, I
will
hurt you."
I honestly do hate it, for too many reasons to list. I would never let a woman of mine use the word, I would never let my complete power over them be cheapened by that. Pixie wasn't quite mine. We both knew that in the end I was not her mistress. And she really had been so good, she deserved a little treat now and then.
"I'd like to serve you both at once. I'd like Mistress Marcella to fuck me again while Mistress Virginia ..."
I slapped her face. She gasped and sighed. She rubbed faster on me without any prompting.
"... sits on my face. Slap me again my Mistress. Hit me as I make you come."
***
We were still dancing. I'm sure she was thoroughly enjoying the symbolism: she had me pinned with the distant threat of the queen while her pawns moved in to close the deal.
"You mind if I smoke?"
We were alone, as usual. Probably a shame from her viewpoint, if there was ever a time for the languid click of the fingers and a slave appearing at my elbow with an ashtray, this was it. Instead she fetched one herself and told me to go ahead. She was slipping, so intent on the kill that she hadn't covered her queen at all. My knight danced in and knocked the bitch off.
"Nice."
"Do my best, Sal."
"I'm sure you do, V."
How exquisitely condescending of her. I really had done my best, and she'd been playing me like a fish. How had I missed what she could do with that bloody bishop?
Bollocks.
She reset the board while I lit up.
"Want another?"
"In a while. Can we have some tea?"
"Not wine?"
"Trying to drink less, Sal."
She was watching me closely; heaven knows she was a good enough domme to see when she watched. She nodded at my cigarette holder.
"You have a bit of an Audrey thing, V?"
Very clever, but as it happens completely wrong. The holder is pure Holly, but I liked it because it was a gift from the most important woman in my life. On top of which, and unfashionable as this is, I've always preferred Jean Simmons for that time and look. I didn't argue with her, just smiled sweetly and blew smoke over her chess board.
"Alright, what's on your mind?"
"You hurt Lynn."
"Thought that was your plan. Did she decide she doesn't want to play with the big girls after all?"
"No, I think she rather enjoyed it. I know she enjoyed me telling her off afterwards for being such a tart. What about yours?"
"She'll live."
"I didn't mean that. I wouldn't say no to it becoming – "
"I would. Pix isn't a player. She's my responsibility."
"Possessive."
"Always have been. It's what I do. Seriously, Sal, you're beating round the bush."
Which probably wasn't the most fortunate expression I could have come out with between the two of us. It drew a very knowing look from her that put a cold touch down the back of my neck.
"If you insist. Firstly, as a friend: I'd never dream of dictating a style to anyone. I'm sorry, V, 'Pixie' is borderline cute in itself, but 'Pix'? That's simply not something you call someone in the sort of relationship you claim to have."
She had a point, which I was in no mood to acknowledge.
"Alright, that's first. What's next?"
"You and me."
Say which?!
"I beg your pardon?"
She gave me a tremendously flirty smile that screamed 'if only' in reply to one of the stupider things I've ever said.
"Is it such an offensive idea?"
As a matter of fact, it was about as offensive as silk sheets after a warm bath. She was one good-looking woman after all. Not to mention that I'm Irish and husky, and she looked the way she did. There had been a particularly lurid celebrity fantasy scenario that had worked wonders for me back in the day; just the thought of Marcy and I getting Shakespearean on each other made me feel nostalgically randy.
It had been a hell of a kiss; let's be clear and honest, with my particular kinks I don't often get to reach orgasm with someone in my mouth and that was an amazing feeling. Imagine getting her in bed and out of that bustier so I could actually indulge myself with her breasts ...
Oh yeah, the mental image of that desperate sweaty grapple as we discarded clothing across the floor between here and the bedroom door was hot indeed. What then? The idea of her over my knee made my stomach flutter. I really wasn't up for 'oh please no, Mistress Marcella', not even for a giggle. The thing is, I don't do any of it for a giggle.
"Did a lot of wrestling once upon a time, Sal. It was fun then, but I'm not nineteen anymore. We can't share a cuppa without trying to Top each other."
"It doesn't always have to work that way, V."
What an extraordinary thing to say. Was she offering me straight sex and kissy cuddles now? I thought I knew the woman. Damn it, I did know her: I'd seen the look on her face just at the idea of hurting Pixie; I'd seen its pale reflection every single time we'd spoken to each other. You see, Sally and Victoria didn't really have one thing in common, probably would not even like each other too much. For all the flattery of letting me call her by her given name, that's not who we were together.
"Yeah, Marcy, it really does ..."
And because I didn't particularly like Sally, but I did understand and even genuinely respect the needs inside Marcella, I did her the courtesy of opening up something very deep and secret.
"... I cannot tell you how much I enjoy all the game-playing; all the humiliation and spanking, even the fucking. That's all foreplay to get me in the right mood, what I
need
is someone's tongue on me in complete surrender. The more work it takes to get them there, the better it is for me. I've no interest in returning the favour; I have no interest in you trying to make me. I am a very selfish person and I won't change, not even once for you."
"That's a shame."
It really was, but I'm far too old and set in my ways to cry over it.
***
We'd been very dirty in the shower, which is more sexual than sensual. As we got dressed, I was feeling the most absurd desire to take her back to my own flat and spend the rest of the afternoon in the bath together. As Sal would doubtless say, that didn't go with the sort of thing we were supposed to have at all. I choked it down, and in its place found a sudden overwhelming need for nice china and some really good cakes.
"What would you say to going out for tea?"
