The Red Dress

We have not known each other long but already you are truly my Mistress. As for me ... well, I'm so proud to be your Sub. (And from time to very special time, I am also proud to be your slutty little angel).

I'm in the room that I love most in your apartment, the library, with its rows and rows of books and its walls hung with beautiful prints. Of course I love your bedroom too, or indeed any room where you love me and make me love you in return, on many splendored nights, not to mention many splendored mornings and afternoons.

In the quiet of the apartment you call me to your room. Once I used to fear admonishment but now I understand you better. I know that your desire is to help me, to guide and teach me so that our understanding of each other grows and grows. My overwhelming need for your love will always be my guide.

Your door is ajar. I walk in and close it softly behind me. You are sitting at your table. Turning towards me and with a warm and reassuring smile, you tell me that I am to accompany you to a party.

God! I'm so pleased, I love going out to places with you. You take my hand and lead me to your bed.

You tell me to undress completely and to lie on the bed on my side, facing the wall, with my knees drawn up to my chin. I hear you open a drawer behind me. This is something new. You have never asked me to do this before.

"You are going to absolutely love this Suzy!"

These days I no longer fear what might happen to me when I am with you. You are always dreaming up ever wickeder ways to love me.

I feel something cold and slippery pressing against my pussy, parting my lips. Something cold slips deep inside. There is a pause and the same feeling is repeated, something else, cold and round. I hardly dare think what exactly you have put inside me.

"OK Suzy, you can stand up now. Come and stand by the mirror."

I look at my reflection and I can see you behind me, picking up your phone. You are tapping the screen and then all of a sudden I feel a trembling deep inside me. I let out a cry. What is this?

"Yes Suzy ... remote control vibe balls, all controlled from my phone. This is going to be such fun ... for both of us!"

You let out your wicked laugh and touch your phone again. The trembling grows stronger. I realise that it would be so easy to come like this. I'm beginning to move my hips a little and squeeze my legs together. Another tap and the sensation stops.

"Good. Now, let's get you dressed and we can be on our way." Saying this you open a drawer and take out a big square box.

"Here you are Suzy. This is for you to wear tonight."

Inside the tissue paper is a bright red jersey dress. The fabric is beautifully fine and smooth and soft. I can't imagine how much it would have cost. I hold it up against me and run to the mirror. It's absolutely lovely. I'm about to ask if I'm to wear anything beneath but of course I already know the answer.

I pull the soft fabric over my head and smooth it against my bare skin. Not backless, no plunging neckline, just a round neck and no ornamentation. It is utterly simple and quite beautiful. (Body-conscious would be an understatement). The hem was probably designed to finish just above the knee but with my giraffe's legs the pencil skirt finishes mid thigh.

The dress is beyond gorgeous! I can't help flinging my arms around your neck and kissing and kissing you.

You disappear briefly from the room and return wearing a trouser suit in very dark grey silk. The look would be quite severe but your jacket fastens so that it hangs slightly open a couple of inches all the way down from your neck to your lovely navel. An uninterrupted vertical streak of gleaming golden skin shines through the subdued tones of your jacket. Oh my God, my Mistress!

"Let's go!" You pat my bottom and walk out of the bedroom.

I run after you, down the steps across the lobby, past the sour-puss concierge and out through the big doors. There is a warm wind blowing leaves down the street. I really love it when we go out together. I squeeze your arm. Your response is an almighty throb from your vibe balls, deep within my (and your) secret place. We are both still laughing as we climb into the taxi.

We cross the river and drive deep into the countryside. I do wonder where we are going, I am filled instead with a wonderful warm glow (and of course the two vibe balls!)

The taxi turns off the main road and I see a long driveway ahead. A big mansion house appears with windows brightly lit. We walk across the gravel (it's at times like this I wish you would let me wear shoes sometimes.)

Huge doors are opened from within and you lead me in to the magnificent hallway. My eyes and ears are filled with wonderful sights and sounds. Elegantly dressed women talk in groups and girls. Many, much younger than me, dance together. The only men I can see are uniformed waiters carrying trays of champagne. A band plays somewhere in above us.

I feel as if I have just walked into Marie Antoinette's palace.

You are beside me, guiding me forward. With practiced ease you take two glasses of champagne from a tray, pass one to me and with your hand in the small of my back, guide me into another huge room.

Everyone seems to know you. There are nods and smiles and even a curtsey! (I never knew people still did that.) I am delighted. You propel me to a small group of women and make the introductions. You stand with one hand in your jacket pocket. Your pose looks elegant and casual but I know that your hand is on your phone, controlling my body, controlling ME. The conversation moves along the usual predictable lines. You say very little, I notice.

Someone mentions the champagne glasses. Apparently they are not the usual champagne flutes but traditional champagne saucers.

One of our little group says: "These glasses are a limited edition, modelled to perfectly cup Kate Moss's left breast."

I say that it's a good thing that they weren't modelled on mine otherwise we'd all be going home sober!

Everyone laughs and I feel you send a big throb of approval into my pussy. I'm feeling so blissfully happy. The throb settles into a steady pulse and then stronger still. I turn to look at you imploringly. I'm silently begging that you don't make me come right now ... right here!

But now the pulsations have settled into rhythmic, in beautiful waves.

We move on and climb the stairs. The excitement and the champagne have made me oblivious to the fact that those below might have a clear view of the joining of my thighs.

There is music and dancing here. You sweep me on to the dance floor and we join the others. I love watching you dance. You're so elegant and at the same time free. You get quickly lost in the music. I feel so proud!

I'm spontaneous but I'm clumsy in my bare feet. Who could hold it against me though? Utterly abandoned and gloriously happy! I'm aware of faces turned towards us but this is US!

My Mistress and I OWN this time ...this place! My lovely dress rides up. I smooth it back down (but why?)

Eventually the band takes a break. You tell me to look after myself for a few minutes while you talk to a colleague. I swap my empty glass for a full one (thank you Kate) and move confidently through the room.

I hear a low voice and turn around. A tall and elegant woman is whispering to me in a subdued intimate voice, as if she already knows me. I sense danger and move away. She follows me.

"Your Mistress has asked me to take care of you Suzy." Saying this she takes my hand and leads me through a door into a narrow corridor. Her voice continues in its weird hypnotic drone. I'm unsure but maybe this is some kind of test you have designed for me.

"I am your hostess Suzy. You are at MY party now!"

There is something threatening hiding in her incessant droning voice. The woman pushes open a side door and leads me into the garden. I know that you would never put me in harm's way or hurt or humiliate me, but this is becoming increasingly troubling.

We walk together across the wet grass. It feels good under my bare feet and the throbbing continues in waves deep within me. So maybe this is all part of a wicked plan of yours. We move away from the lights and then I see other women - waiting in the shadows.

"This, ladies is the famous Suzy!"

That doesn't sound good at all! It all happens in an instant. Suddenly from nowhere, hands grab my wrists and other hands wrench and rip my dress, tearing it up and over my head and fling it into the bushes. My beautiful dress!

All eyes are now on my naked body, drilling into every part me. My wrists are held tightly behind my back and ... Sweet Jesus! Your vibe balls start delivering ever stronger vibrations. This is more than I want or need. I cry out, but the response from this group is mocking laughter.

Now I know this is nothing to do with my Mistress. Someone has stolen your phone and they are now controlling me.

More and more powerful vibrations are pushing me closer to the edge. I can feel rivulets of my liquid running down my thighs. I realise that my body is starting to betray me, and against my will and oh so suddenly, the orgasm rushes towards me

My body arches back and jerks with the spasms. The aftermath eventually fades. I think: 'Thank God they've had their fun; they have had their way with me. Now they will leave me alone.'

But the vibrations continue unabated, I can even hear the balls clacking together deep inside me.

The rush ... the climax ...Oh - for pity's sake!

Again ... and again ... I slump to my knees on the grass. Someone is holding my head up so they can watch my face, lick my face. They force kisses on my mouth, wiping their juices on me. Again ... and again!

They must be passing the phone from one to the other, passing ME from one to another. I am beginning to lose my reason, my body jerks and shudders again, I am powerless to resist. I can hardly see through my tears. I feel myself slipping into unconsciousness, probably trying to take refuge of oblivion.

You know, the opposite of intense pleasure is not intense pain. No, not at all, the opposite of pleasure is a hollow empty feeling of utter hopelessness. For the first time ever in my short life I find myself wishing that my life would simply cease.

I have no idea how long they continued to torment me, how many times these women tore orgasm after orgasm from my body. My throat was becoming hoarse from screaming. I was terrified beyond reason. They will kill me like this, I will never see your face again...

They pull me to the ground and force me face down on the grass. Hands are parting me, opening me. Oh Jesus ... please make it stop!

I must be becoming delirious because I think I can hear your voice. There are shouts, the sound of breaking branches and a desperate cry of pain but this time it's not from my bruised lips. It's YOU shouting, and in a voice I had never heard you use before (or ever want to hear again). It IS you, REALLY you, I'm not going mad!

Then it stops. The vibrations stop! Complete stillness.

I lie on the wet grass crying uncontrollably. My body is drenched in sweat, my matted hair clinging to my face. My tortured mind even managed one last dreadful stab at my self-esteem by making me feel guilty and ashamed for responding to the torment by coming over and over again. I even feel frightened of myself.

I feel your hand on my shoulder, stroking my hair. There is a shrill whistling sound in my head, then darkness and oblivion.

¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬Later you tell me that you wrapped me in a blanket and carried me across the lawn, away from the house and back down the driveway to safety. You managed to stop a passing car that brought us back to the city.

Now, as if in a trance, I am aware of being led from a taxi to your home. I cling tightly to your arm, my face buried in your shoulder. I daren't open my eyes for fear of what I might see...those horrible women, laughing, mocking.

You lead me slowly and gently into your home ... into your bathroom. A single candle is burning there but I keep my eyes tightly closed. With infinite care you wipe away my tear stains, the long salt-streaks mixed with mascara and saliva. Now I can feel you tenderly kiss my face, your soft kind lips barely touching my skin.

You lift me up bodily and carry me in your arms to the bedroom, as one would carry a wounded animal.

I am lowered, oh so gently, on to your bed. But I do not feel the touch of your cool white sheets as they envelope my bruised and aching body, for I am already sound asleep.

It was a long time before I was able to even begin to think about that terrible night. But you have been so patient, so kind, so loving. With your care and understanding and trust I've learned to move on. We've even had a gentle (oh so gentle) session with vibe balls!

That's how much you have cared for me!

That's how much you have loved me!

from Suzy