Disclaimer: If you are under 18 or offended by graphic depictions of lesbian sexuality with a sadomasochistic theme, please go elsewhere. Otherwise feel free to email feedback. This is a fictional continuation of the story begun by "Holiday Fireworks."
I sat, spent, on the edge of my bed, musing. It was late afternoon. The idea of a pet lying in wait for me stirred up my lust even though I had just been sated. In some strange way I felt closer to the absent Alex. I felt as if I were Jen, subdued and exhilarated by a sadistically sexy Mistress, that I was both Jen and Alex simultaneously somehow.... I grew confused.
It was disgusting enough to admit to the sick pleasures of being slapped and toyed with, fucked and humiliated, but it was even more disgusting, I thought, to be the sadistic bitch who meted out such alluring punishments. What kind of person was I really?
I had friends, good friends; I was generous, giving, loving, affectionate to them and to family. I didn't steal or gossip or willfully hurt anyone in my public life. And yet how could I reconcile that person with the imperiously cruel woman who had slapped her friend, spat in her face, bound and gagged her into total submission and thrilled at the fact of her being completely at my mercy? I saw the protests, the glint of fear in her eyes, but I also saw the excited gleam of obeisant joy. I saw Jen's hardness melt away, saw the craving for a commanding hand as I myself had craved one.
I needed to take a walk, to clear my head, to come to my senses, so I threw on a light white linen minidress and sandals. I kept on my white lace bra but forsook my panties: I wanted the cool air to waft along my thighs and to play about my wet pussy as I walked.
I emerged from my bedroom and knelt by my docile new pet. Jen was languorously calm, bound as she was, and I removed the scarf from her mouth to kiss her. She returned my kiss with surprising fervor and I caressed her luscious body as she purred in contentment.
"You must be hungry," I said.
"Mmmmm," she replied.
"Not for me, silly!" I playfully rejoined. "I'm going to get us something a little more filling, if less pleasurable, to eat."
"Whatever you wish, Mistress," Jen whispered sultrily.
"You're awfully sweet," I replied. Jen smiled and I couldn't resist another passionate kiss. Power was a heady aphrodisiac: my lust grew. Jen's face was fine-featured, almost chiseled; her dark eyes were riveting, her lips full and soft. Yes, she was beautiful, not merely attractive, but beautiful.
"I want to make sure you're comfortable while I'm gone," I said.
I gagged her again effortlessly and unfastened the scarf that held her raised foot to the rear sofa leg and used it to tie her ankles together fairly closely. Then I untied the scarf holding her other foot to the front leg. I also detached the scarf stretching her hands over her head and momentarily unfastened her wrists. I took the detached silk scarf and tied it around her lovely narrow waist and then righted her. She was sitting up for me, completely docile, and I had the impulse to slap her again, but I refrained. Instead I rather roughly pulled her hands behind her back and bound her wrists and further bound them to the scarf around her waist.
"Now, get on your knees, my sweet little cunt, and let me guide you to the bathroom."
She complied as I grabbed a fistful of hair and led her to the loo, where she relieved herself. It took at least a minute, no doubt because of the alcohol she had imbibed, and I wiped the traces of pee from her pretty privates for her and eased her again to her knees.
I couldn't believe how pretty she seemed, how kitten-like, how... grateful. This wasn't a new person: no, this was the person I had dimly secretly somehow knew from all our dance classes together, all our little talks, all the clues, all the bitching about her husband, all her prurient interest in me and Alex. She simply and purely loved women, and was discovering it rather late, like me.
Jen taught English in a private junior high school and I imagined the effect she must have had on her students, male and female – and the effect they had on her. I wondered how she fantasized about them, those nubile 13 and 14 year olds, and about the restraint it must have taken. Maybe that's where the hardness came in, the hardness as a necessary façade, without which she might have acted on impulse and jeopardized her career, not to mention her entire life! Yes, I bet she would beg to be set upon by her young students, and to set upon them....
As I mused I was guiding Jen slowly into my carpeted bedroom. The effects of her drinking had mostly worn off but I assumed she'd be tired again after our pleasures.
"Are you sleepy, darling?" I asked.
She nodded.
"And thirsty too, I bet," I replied. Again she assented.
I returned with a shallow bowl of water and set it at my feet before removing her gag. She leaned over without hesitation and started lapping, my good little pet, until I nudged the bowl over with my foot to spill the little that remained. And I waited.
Without direction Jen moved her head down and kissed the arch of my right foot. Her dark hair hung about her face and covered my foot and I could feel her soft lips and exquisite tongue and caught my breath as she kissed and imperceptibly licked along my insole and ankle and calf. She sent amazingly erotic shivers through me!
"Good girl," I said affectionately, "good sweet slut." Then I lifted her head up forcibly and replaced the gag. I moved her to my bed, her back to its footboard, untied her wrists and retied them to each of the bedposts. She was on her knees, ankles bound tightly to each other. Her arms were stretched sideways and suspended by my scarves, and she was gagged. If she wished she could rise up a bit and lean forward and let her luscious breasts dangle, or simply rest her firm ass on the backs of her bound legs. I decided to fasten her bound ankles also to the lower legs of the bed, and finally to blindfold her.
She looked divine. I could scarcely contain myself, scarcely imagine how aroused the sight of this willing "womanly" young beauty would make me. Part of me wished to pinch and slap and hear her grateful muffled moans, part of me to lick and stroke and stoke the fires of her own lust to a point that became unbearable....All the while MY pussy grew wetter and wetter, my throat drier and drier with pure yearning. She was mine: she knew it, and I knew it, and we both loved it.
I checked myself: I needed to walk, to think, to make things clearer.
I knelt down before Jen and whispered in her ear, softly: "You are such a pretty bitch.... I can hardly keep my hands off you, Jen," I said. "But I'm going to go out for a bit, love, and while I'm gone I want you to think of how naughty it was for you to come here drunk and make those really unkind comments about lesbians. So think hard about that, and about how my sweet slutty lesbian pet deserves to be reprimanded."
The air was cool and my head swam as I meandered aimlessly through the park and along the river. Many people were about but I hardly noticed them. Eventually I landed in a café and ordered a latte and a container of sliced fresh fruit -- strawberries, grapes, melon – to take out. As I sipped my coffee I kept thinking about the willing helpless Jen, wishing to be her, wishing more fervently for Alex never to have left me. But this strange new sensation of complete control filled and excited and worried me too. I decided to have another coffee, to let Jen experience what I had when Alex left me dangling that fateful last day of our encounter, waiting, wondering, worrying, anticipating....Her lovely breasts called out to me, so much fuller than my own, so ripe, but I determined not to abuse them the way Alex had mine. The clamps she had used left my nipples sore for weeks afterwards, no doubt to serve as a reminder of her. No, I would surpass my once and former Mistress in the delicacy of my 'torture'.
I had been gone for about 2 hours. Jen sighed when I entered the bedroom. I removed the scarf from her mouth and proferred strawberries, which she greedily consumed. Yes, I had her eating out of my hand. I stroked her hair as she fed and I took the juice that dribbled from the corners of her mouth and spread it around her breasts. I bit into a strawberry and slid the uneaten half up and down her cunt's swollen slit. The sudden chill caused a shudder.
I stood and whisked off my dress. My pussy was so wet, so wet..... I rubbed a piece of melon along it and gave it to Jen to savor and I pressed her juice-covered mouth to my pussy and she licked me tenderly. I was in a special kind of heaven, a beautiful slave at my feet ready to be taken, ready to tend to any erotic wish.
"Jen," I said, "it's Saturday night....I'm going to keep you here with me until tomorrow afternoon. Do you need to make any phone calls?"
"No, Mistress."
"You can call me Sonya for now."
"No, Sonya."
"Good."
"How do you feel?"
"Wonderful, Sonya."
"And sober?"
"Yes," she giggled. "I drank because I was afraid."
"And now, are you afraid now?" I asked.
