A Witch And Her Mistress

Laying in bed in the almost darkness, moonlight creeping slowly across the flags and my staff issue dressing gown on the back of the door. Waiting, thoughts racing, palms sweating. My skin is damp under my pyjamas, and heat pulses between my sticky thighs. I want to touch, I really really want to touch but I want to wait more.

It's become a kind of routine. Kind of because i never know when she will call for me. But I know that she will, and I know that I'll go.

I slowly allow my fingertips to graze across my nipple in the dark, the soft worn cotton striped over my breast. Just the slightest touch makes me squirm and hiss through my teeth. It's been days. Nights.

She passes me in the halls, skirts swishing, steps into my classroom and stands by my desk, watching as I fumblingly try to continue my lesson. Sometimes she asks me to step outside and kisses me against the wall in the corridor, her body pressed hard against mine, lifting my skirt and caressing my thigh, or pinching my nipple under my blouse. I dream about it happening again.

I hear the clock strike eleven, counting the notes as they drift across the valley, my fingers tiptoeing down my stomach.

Then the knock. I freeze, heart racing, fingers under my waistband. How does she know?

I breathe slowly, calming my heart but not the throb between my legs. I can't be early, I can't be late.

The corridors are dark and silent but I know the way. My dressing gown tied tight round my waist, bare feet on the stone floor.

Her office is in the central corridor, wide and darkly panelled. Sometimes I hide my face from the paintings but tonight I've waited too long for shame.

I knock, sharp and strong.

"Enter"

The room is lit by a few candles, and at first I can't see her in the shadows. Then she comes towards me from the side and presses me against the door, one hand over my mouth. I meet her eyes, deep brown and dark in the dim room before she kisses me. One hand is in my hair, pulling it loose, the other on the small of my back, pressing us together. I stretch up to her, desperate for her kiss, filling my fists with her clothing, dark wool and heavy cotton, pushing my thigh between hers, only half thinking as my body takes over. I feel her hand slide over my buttock, her hips grinding her pussy against my thigh. My mouth opens against hers, i pull and scratch at her heavy cloak for an opening, somewhere I can touch her flesh, lick her skin, bite down.

She pulls away, wiping her mouth. I slump, dizzy with lust, against the door.

"Kneel" she points towards her chair, does her hand shake slightly as she does?

I gather up my gown and kneel, knowing the routine, remembering the first time, fear and lust combined as I gripped the carved wooden frame. I hear the click of the key in the door and then the latch on the cabinet as she selects her weapon. She has them on display, my god she's sick, my cunt pulses, thinking of how she looks at them every day, how she cums on this chair while she thinks about using them.

A pause, drawn out, the air heavy with anticipation and then.....

the short high swish before the pain. I'm allowed to be dressed tonight, sometimes the cold air rushes over my bare skin seconds before the lash hits. Not tonight. She's feeling kind.

Another then another and another and I bite my sleeve to stop from moaning out loud as the pain rushes through my blood bringing pleasure with it. So much pleasure. I hear it hit the floor and breathe out. She steps behind me, pulls me up and runs her fingers over my sore arse, feeling the new welts rise over the old ones, stroking the hot lines of pain until I gasp. Then, pressing her body against my back slides her hot hand under my waistband.

"You like that." she hisses in my ear as she slips into my juicy cunt, her fingers finding my clit and circling, stroking, knowing just the right touch, my knees shaking. Her other hand gropes my tit, pinching and rolling my nipple, her teeth on my neck.

"Oh please, I want it, please give it to me."

I beg although I know I won't be given what I want. She continues to rub and stroke, leaving my tit for my mouth, feeling it open and desperate, my tongue lapping at her skin. I start to think that maybe this time she will let me, that she'll let me cum right here. I try to stay still, letting her get lost in her rhythm, moaning softly, my body tense in expectation, my clit swelling and my breath stuttering hot on her wrist as I hold it in my teeth.

Then she stops.

She holds me still, gently taking her wrist from between my teeth, one hand flat below my throat, the other round my stomach, holding my weight with her arms. We both breathe, my eyes screwed tight, waiting, waiting.

Her fingers move again, caressing, slowly slipping over the straining flesh of my nipples, then slipping my gown off my shoulders onto the floor. She kisses the side of my neck, then undies the buttons on my pyjamas, slowly one by one, and drops the garment on top of my gown.

Now she walks around me, her eyes examining my body, their pupils huge and dark. She lifts each breast, strokes the nipple with her thumb, runs the back of her fingers down my belly, pauses above my my pubic hair, strokes up again. She bends her head, flicks each nipple with her tongue, sucks them briefly, her teeth running along the edge. My eyes are in the back of my head.

Then she strokes her own body, smoothing her hands down her sides, up and over her breasts under the heavy cloak she wears. When she reaches the neck she undoes the fine silk rope and lets it drop. She is naked.

"Kneel" I go down on shaky limbs. She stands over me for a minute, her cunt level with my face then lowers herself into the heavy chair, thighs spread, slippery swollen flesh inches from my mouth.

I start with her thighs, creamy, plump, smelling of apples and sex, and find the trail of wetness, lapping at it with my tongue, feeling her tense and hearing the soft squeak of skin on wood. I grip the sides of her arse in my fingers, opening my mouth wide, wishing I could bite great chunks of her sweetness and swallow it.

Her vulva is trimmed neatly, wiry hair laid smooth round her slit. I press my tongue against it and taste, hearing her breath hiss, her muscles tense under my palms.

Pointing my tongue I touch her clit, make tiny strokes up and down, five, ten, fifteen, then bigger, just a little, gathering up her juice, listening to hear her breathing faster, teasing her with stops and starts, her fingers in my hair now, my mouth against her feeling her heartbeat throb through my lips. The need I feel to touch myself the same way, cum together with her, fingers in my cunt, is so so strong I have to grip the arms of the chair until my hands hurt. I breathe, then slide one hand up her thigh and push two fingers into her. Fuck, she's so hot. Her hips spasm, push towards me, my cunt drips. I stroke inside her, the pads of my fingers firm against her inner flesh, shifting to reach the right spot, then I dip my head again and lick her clit for real, no teasing now, my lips surrounding it, sucking it in, circling and stroking with my tongue, her thrusts keeping time with my fingers, and I know she's going to cum, she's moaning and panting, her hands holding my head tight, and I keep going, rubbing and licking and pressing my nipples against the edge of the chair to try and make us cum together and she's moaning my name, the sound coming from deep in her belly as her cunt flexes for the first pulse of her orgasm. She gasps and yelps through her clenched teeth, her thighs stretched as wide as the chair allows, slipping forwards as her cum hits my chin and chest and stars flash behind my eyes as my body begs for the same release.

I nuzzle her stomach, kissing gently, my fingers soft now on her thighs. I dare to raise myself up kissing her breasts and shoulders, bringing one knee up between hers, my cunt resting on her thigh for a moment, sliding, my clit straining for contact with her, some pressure, some heat. She stands, tipping me onto the floor.

"Dress"

I freeze. No.

"No, please, please...I need to.."

"I said dress."

"Please, it's been so long, I can't..."

Her eyes gleam. I swallow a sob and gather my things, my fingers shaking as I button and tie them round my body.

She locks the door behind me.

My bed is cold and although I writhe and stretch under my own hands, eyes squeezed shut imaging they're hers, my cunt thumping hard as I finally orgasm, it doesn't ease my desperation, my bone deep longing for her. How long must I wait this time?