Note: This is fiction, intended to entertain readers. It has graphic lesbian sex. There's also domination and submission in this story. If you can't legally view this, please don't! Any resemblance between these characters and any person is coincidental.
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"I told you I'd take you someplace special," I said to Aurora while I drove. "Granted, it won't look like much from the outside, but I think you'll like it."
"So the park wasn't...?" She grew red and couldn't finish her question.
I smiled. "The park was a diversion. I don't mind saying you looked delicious in the collar. It was just a relaxing bit of fun. It's time for us to keep an appointment, though." She dealt with her curiosity quite well; she just gave me a sidelong glance and changed the subject.
"Where does Mistress get these wicked ideas?" she asked.
"That's an impertinent question and you know it. Wicked is an interesting word to use, by the way. The way you say 'wicked,' it's obvious you mean 'fun and exciting.' When you say 'wicked,' you're saying you want more.
"Don't worry, darling slut, you'll get more."
I put my hand on her thigh. She inhaled sharply and looked away from me. "A slave won't be satisfied until Mistress comes," she said, sulking.
"Are you talking back to me?" I said, both surprised and amused.
"Mistress..." she mumbled. She was genuinely pissed at me, at least a little, for not letting her have sexual access to my body. I could tell she was trying to figure out how to phrase her protest. I wasn't going to allow her that time, though.
I clicked my tongue. I said sharply, "I'm the one in charge. You may have forgotten. Shorts. Off. Now."
I watched out of the corner of my eye. She tugged the tight shorts to her ankles and pulled her feet out of them one at a time. She wasn't embarrassed-yet. "Offer me your backside," I commanded.
That got her attention. "A slave doesn't understand-" she started to say.
"-Yes, she does," I said sternly. "Get on your knees on your seat and present your tight ass to me for spanking."
That was effective. She knew anyone in traffic with us would be able to see her. Her ears grew bright pink. By now, she knew me well enough to realize that there was no point arguing. She dropped her head, then turned and raised her behind. "Higher," I said, "and spread your legs. Get closer to me."
She managed to get into a wonderful position, her rear end only about a foot from my face. Her vagina was clearly visible between her legs, glistening with the syrup of her arousal. I rested my hand on her left cheek. She whimpered. She wanted this over with (and yet she didn't). All the more reason to take my time. I slapped her ass nonchalantly, pausing between each strike.
I traced the cute mole on her butt. "Not so vocal now, I see," I teased. "This mark of yours really gives me something to focus on; I'll have to find more occasions for getting your ass exposed. Stay calm, I'm nearly done spanking you."
"Mistress," she grunted. Her voice was almost unrecognizable with frustration and desire. I'm sure she knew what she wanted.
"You were wet enough in the park; I suppose it would be cruel to get you worked up again and not finish you. So..." I trailed off the sentence and started stroking her beautiful labia.
"Uh!" she groaned. I smiled. "Please, Mistress, let a slave cum!" she said in a rush once she'd caught her breath.
Not this easy-not this time. "What? I'm trying to teach you a lesson, you dirty slut! You're being punished."
"Please! Pl-ooh-please!" Her breathing was rapid and noisy. "Please!"
I let one finger slip between her lips. I asked, "So you've learned your lesson?" I let another finger join the first.
She was already too far gone. "Please!" she said again. "Please, please-oh fuck!"
She pushed back, obviously trying to get the most out of this orgasm. Her cunt felt tight and very hot around my fingers. She was so damn sexy-I was proud and disappointed at the same time. I thought I knew her limits. Had I been wrong or had she just not cared enough to wait for permission?
Well, Aurora would probably tell me with her behavior. She was really bad at hiding what she was feeling. If I observed her, I'd have my answer.
She stayed hunched on the seat, lowering her butt as far as she could, getting her breathing under control. "Mistress, a slave, really couldn't help it," she said eventually, in a small voice.
I believed her. That was good, because I couldn't have stood for that particular type of misbehavior. I swatted her bum playfully. "I demand obedience, but I'm in a forgiving mood. Come on, sit in your seat properly."
"May a slave put on the shorts again?"
"Later."
"Mistress is so mean!"
"You were supposed to learn a lesson and didn't," I said. "Anyway, you'll be able to get dressed soon, we're almost to the studio."
In two or three minutes, I pulled into the parking lot of a smallish two-story tan brick building. I told Aurora to get decent. Then she followed me and we used the side entrance, over which a sign saying "Kerry's Paint" hung.
There was a wooden counter with a motel-style bell and a couple of doors behind it. No attendant was in sight. I hit the bell and we waited a few seconds. A short, stout lady with colored magenta hair and plenty of piercings came through the door on the left. "Hello, have you got an appointment?" she asked with a Boston accent.