Author's note: This is part of a series of stories about Jacqueline DeNorlan, a famous sculptor and her submissive, a young Assistant District Attorney named Victoria Lerner.
I want to test them out before thinking about writing more than the three stories that already exist on my hard drive. So, feel free to comment on the story, critical remark are especially welcome β as long as they focused on facts and not on pure emotion. In plain words, if you think the story sucks, not only let me know that it does but also tell me why.
Thanks!
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Victoria checked the bathroom to make sure that she had not left anything behind; she closed her carry-all and put the box her Mistress had sent her the day before in her hand luggage. She was more than ready to go home.
The raven-haired Assistant District Attorney had been asked to present a panel at the annual Conference of Women in Law Enforcement in Chicago. Three busy and interesting days had been flanked by three very frustrating and lonely nights. Phone calls definitively were not an adequate substitute for her beloved's presence, and their sensual verbal games had always stopped before she could reach a climax.
The first night she had thought that her Mistress had been kidding when she had told her at the airport that she would make her masturbate, that she would have her hot and bothered but that she would not be allowed any release. Now, she no longer doubted Jacqueline's words.
A last look in the mirror showed her a picture of conservative, professional elegance; three inch heels stretched her 5'6'' frame elegantly, a white blouse, knee length, hip hugging skirt and matching jacket accentuated her perfect figure and contrasted nicely with her shoulder-length dark hair.
Victoria had spent the better part of the night wondering why her Mistress had insisted on such a rather formal attire. The other delegates undoubtedly would be wearing jeans or other casual wear for their journey home. She once again checked her image in the mirror, including the light touch of make-up that brought out her dark brown eyes.
Last night she had imagined being helped in the Lexus and ordered to remove her panties and to pull up her skirt, so her Mistress could play with her bare, freshly shaved pussy on the way home. The blouse would be opened to afford the sculptor an unimpeded view of her hard nipples. Her Mistress would carry her to their bedroom or even better their play room and make sweet love to herβ¦
Victoria shock herself out of her pointless musings and left her hotel room. Her cell phone rang while she was waiting in line at the security check point. Jacqueline ordered her to go to a toilet as soon as the fasten seatbelt sign had gone out and to follow the instructions she would find inside of the box now residing in her elegant backpack.
~*~
The cramped space in the airplane facilities couldn't diminish the anticipatory shiver when she read her Mistress' letter.
My best-beloved,
I know I asked a lot of you these three days but I knew that you could do it, for me. I wanted you ready for me but not to the point to distract you from your work. Now, there's no longer a need for such caution.
On top of the box you'll find two rubber bands. You know what to do with them, and don't worry, as far as I know you did nothing to warrant the use of switch. I would have made you use nipple clamps but the rubber bands are simply less obvious under your clothing.
The raven-head smiled. Her Mistress really knew her well. She unbuttoned her blouse und unclasped the bra. She even didn't have to play with her nipples to get them hard. The rubber bands were carefully wound around the hard nubs and her clothing restored to order.
The following instructions left her speechless.
Remove your slip. You'll find a butt plug and some lubrication in the box. Make sure that the plug goes all the way in.
Victoria's first instinct was to disobey; this literarily cried disaster.
Put your underwear in the box and return to your seat. Don't pull your skirt up. I don't want you unnecessarily exposed.
I'm looking forward to see you at the reception area.
Love, J.
The ADA smiled once again. Her Mistress really knew her too well; she knew how to break her resistance. She also trusted Jacqueline implicitly; in the four years they were living together the resourceful artist had yet to disappoint her.
She quickly obeyed the rest of the instructions and left the cubicle just when one of the flight attendants had been about to knock on the door and ask if she was alright. She smiled reassuringly and returned to her seat.
Victoria tried to get some work done, then she tried to read but her mind stubbornly returned to the plug filling her and her constricted nipples throbbing with every breath, not to speak of her mind running at least a mile a minute with all probable and especially the more fantastic scenarios she came up with.
~*~
Finally the 757 landed, she hurried to the baggage claim area and was engulfed in her lover's strong arms as soon as she had passed the barrier separating the passengers from their loved ones. Jacqueline was almost half a head taller than her, with the broad shoulders and strong wrists of someone used to do hard physical labour. She smelled of stone dust and sandalwood, a mixture which always made the smaller woman feel safe and at home.
They exchanged a mostly chaste kiss but Victoria saw the hunger in her Mistress' eyes reflecting her own need. They took the elevator to the top level of the parking building, Jacqueline told her to walk in front of her and that her car was waiting at the other end. She followed a few paces behind with the carry-all and studied her partner's backside appreciatively.
Victoria felt the eyes on her and started to swing her hips with every step, nothing provocative, just to show off a bit.
They reached the other side of the deck. The raven-head was surprised to see that her Mistress had not brought the SUV but her own car, a cherry red Mustang. She walked around the vehicle to the passenger side and suddenly found herself half lying on the hood.
Her skirt was pulled up and she automatically spread her legs. She heard the sound of a zipper, and only then understanding dawned: Her Mistress was about to fulfil one of her oldest fantasies, a fantasy she had only spoken of once before, four years ago during their second date.
The young woman felt something hard touching her nether lips. It slid in without resistance and she marvelled at its length and thickness. She pressed her ass against the welcome intruder and moaned when it slid all the way in and almost touched the tip of the butt plug. Jacqueline thrust into her, building a rhythm that made her soar.
This was better than any fantasy.
Her climax was approaching irresistibly and she began to beg. The red-headed sculptor snuck her hands under her lover's torso. Victoria heeded the message and used her arms to brace herself on the hood of her cherished vehicle to give her Mistress more room to play with her breasts. The thus slightly changed angle made her feel even fuller.
Jacqueline bent down and whispered in her ear, "Come for me, my love; come with me!"
She shouted her Mistress' name, not caring to be overheard. Instead of withdrawing the taller woman kept her rhythm up and quickly brought her to another orgasm. She finally pulled out and took her beloved in her arms.
~*~
Green eyes met dark brown.