Yes Maam 10

Lucky you, you have a friend that loves to play. No strings attached, no expectations - just pure, trustful submission. Even though you can't seem to ignore the itchings in your heart for something more, you ache for her touch all the same and today is no exception. Mabel loves to play with you, and you're willing to take everything she's willing to give to you.

In her kitchen, your hands are bound to the chair behind you with your legs tied to the feet of the chair in a similar fashion. The blindfold over your eyes is snug, and you can't see a single thing; all you can hear is the quiet thuds of her heeled boots slowly making their way across the floor.

You hear her laugh softly before a pleased hum sounds in your ear. A gentle, calloused hand reaches around and cradles your jaw. Rough from her years of hero work, you know that hand expertly trailing down your throat has done so much more than touch you this way--somehow, that's even more of a thrill than you could have imagined.

"Look at you," she tuts. "You're being such a good girl today. None of that bratty mouth I always expect to hear. I like that. I really, really like that. Good girls get rewarded."

As if to emphasize her point, she drags her nail back up your throat and traces a finger over your lower lip.

"Open up, honey," she croons. Her voice is like a velvet grip over your throat that renders you entirely silent. You do as you're told, and, very slowly, she slides her finger slowly into your mouth. Mabel likes to take her time, and you know that tonight would be no exception. After leaving it in for a moment, she pulls her finger in and out of your mouth to delicately drag it over your tongue and lips. It makes your hips stir in the chair and you quickly realize that it's impossible to hide that you want more.

More of what, you don't even know. More of her. More of her hands. More of her mouth. More of that velvety high voice that is enough to send goosebumps up your arms and shoulders. If only she'd kiss you...

"Getting eager already?" she breathes. "Cute..."

A soft sound, muffled by her finger, sounds from deep in your throat. But you know what she wants. You try to be good. She's a woman true to her word - you know you get rewarded

Slowly, she slides her index and middle fingers back into your mouth and pumps them in and out rhythmically. A small trail of spit trails down your chin as you greedily suck on the digits sliding back and forth on your tongue. Carefully, Mabel withdraws her fingers again, letting them linger on your lips for a moment. You feel her pull them away and listen to the sounds of her pulling something out of her belt that you can't see. She trails it along your cheek and exposed throat--the threads protruding from the handle indicate it's a whip. Understanding, you nod. From her other hip, she pulls out something different; very, very gently, she rests something ice cold and sharp against your jaw.

A carving knife. A shiver rocks through your body, and a small, soft sound of both thrill and fear, like waiting for the descent of a massive roller coaster, escapes your lips.

"You wore a shirt and pants you didn't care about today, right?" she asks. You nod slowly.

She grabs your jaw hard in her hand.

"I think you know exactly how you are to respond to me," she scolds. She squeezes your jaw painfully.

"Y-yes ma'am," you sputter. She gives your cheek a gentle tap with her nails.

"That's better," she says softly. "Now...let's get this off of you."

"Yes, ma'am."

A slow, creeping chill wanders up your spine. She trails her fingers down the length of your torso, starting at your throat and slowly trickling down your breasts before settling at your hips. You feel her tug at your shirt before hearing the tear of fabric as the knife cuts into the shirt, slowly spilling it open as cool air rushes to meet your heated skin. She takes her time with the task until you feel your shirt hanging open over your shoulders.

"Color?" she asks firmly.

"Green."

"Good girl."

Only in a loose bralette under your shirt, she hums as you hear her put the knife down on the table and pick up her whip. She reaches around you from behind and trails the tails of the whip up your torso. Goosebumps erupt up your skin as you shiver and let out a soft moan. She tickles your nipples through the bralette, making them hard as you lean your head back with a quiet sigh.

Already, your breathing is catching in your throat. Soft, shaky gasps spill past your lips and she's hardly even touched you. For what seems like ages, she keeps trailing the tails of the whip up and down the length of your torso, over your breasts, and down to your waist.

"Tell me how that feels," she says firmly.

"Good," you breathe. Your voice strains--it's good, but it's not enough. You know that, and so does she. "Really good."

"Mmmh. I can tell," she hums. You can't see her, but it's clear she's smiling.

You hear her set the whip down and pick up the knife again. She lays it flat across your stomach, and you shiver again. The metal is cold, and the allure of the blade sends another thrill down your spine. Knowing she could cut into you at any time, despite knowing that she won't, is enough to send chills throughout your entire body.

Gently, she presses the tip against your skin. It barely hurts, but it's enough to make your breath catch as you usher a small noise.

"Color."

"Green, ma'am."

"That's what I like to hear. Would I hurt you without you wanting me to?"

"No, ma'am."

"Good girl."

She trails the tip up your chest, and your breath comes in a thrilled, slightly anxious gasp. With a flick of her wrist, she cuts the flimsy bra away, leaving it hanging off your shoulders with the rest of your shirt. With your torso fully exposed, you feel yourself stirring in eager anticipation where you sit. It's hard to be patient, now. Especially when you aren't able to see what she's about to do next.

She gently turns the knife onto its cold, flat side again. You realize she must have cooled the metal herself, as it's still sending sharp waves of anticipation up your spine. She presses it against your hard nipple and it makes you whine and jerk your hips again.

"More," you choke out. It's a desperate plea that slips out before you can stop it. Immediately, you realize your mistake in daring to give her an order.

"Are you giving me an order?" she asks slowly. There's a low menace to her voice that wasn't there before, but you're too worked up to care. The icy chill against your sensitive skin makes you moan weakly; between your thighs, you're already growing damp.

"Just keep going," you breathe desperately. You're wet - you can feel it in your pants. All you can think about is her mouth and hands working over your body with relentless touches. Mabel huffs a laugh.

"Interesting that you think you can give me orders."

You whimper under your breath. Despite the fact that you know your mistake, there's still a slight thrill to disobeying her--to being bratty and falsifying your own sense of control. She walks around to the front of you and quickly cuts off your pants and underwear, making you gasp. The movement is swift enough that it could draw blood, but Mabel doesn't even knick your skin.

With a satisfied hum, she pockets the blade. Behind you, you hear her turn on the kitchen faucet. A metal sliding sound comes from the sink, and the sound of the hand-held dishwashing jet sounds. You hear her click the little knob on the side.

"I think I'll just keep my hair tie right around the handle of this handy water jet - that should keep it turned on for a bit." She drags your chair closer to the sound of the water as your face screws up in question. Before you can form any words, the sensation of water trickling down your clit and onto the floor makes you gasp. It's gentle - she must have kept the extendable faucet on a low setting. You gasp as the soft pulse of water rushes against your clit--just gentle enough to make you stir and roll your hips.

"I think I'll keep this here for a little bit while I go and get a couple of things," she hums. "And maybe it will teach you to behave yourself." Carefully, she removes the blindfold

The water is making a mess on the floor, but Mabel doesn't seem to care. Humming, she walks out of the kitchen, leaving you alone as you watch the water trickle over your clit and pool onto the floor.

"Fuck," you whimper softly. "Oh, God." The pressure of the water feels like a weak vibrator -- hard enough to bring an aching pleasure to your core, but soft enough to tease you like mad. The jet leaks all over the floor and all over the chair, but all you can think about is how good the water jet feels pouring over your clit and rushing down your folds. Pressing your thighs together doesn't help--your legs are tied securely. There's no escaping the steady, wet pressure of the water and the way it makes your body twitch and arch with weak moans. It's a torturous way to tease you, combined with the chill of the water that sends goosebumps up your thighs. It's cold, and the icy temperature makes it that much more intense. It won't be enough to make you cum -- just enough to keep you on edge until she decides your punishment is finished.

You let out a series of whimpers and soft moans, and soon, your thighs begin to shake. There's no way to twist away, not that you even want to with how good it feels. It's good, so good, but nowhere near good enough. You try to buck and grind your hips closer to the spout, but you get very little leverage with the way that you're tied.

She had considered every little angle, and she made sure you knew it, too.

When she finally comes back into the room, your head is thrown back and your chest is heaving with labored breathing as you finally feel the very beginnings of a slow orgasm build between your thighs. You hardly notice her come back into the kitchen and gasp as she quickly pulls it away and turns it off.

"I'll just assume you've learned your lesson?" she asks with a knowing quirk of her eyebrow.

You nod, swallowing thickly as she pulls out a towel to begin cleaning up the mess on the kitchen floor and chair. When she's done, she tosses the soaked towel aside and grabs your chin.

"Answer the question," she says in a low, demanding voice. It's just as thrilling as it is terrifying.

"Yes, ma'am--please," you choke out.

She smiles a wide, terrifying grin that tells you she knows exactly what she plans to do to you next. Her hand gently trails down your exposed body where your clothes were torn away. On the table, she takes out a different toy; a wide, soft feather attached to the end of a long handle.

"Let's make you feel good, okay?" she says with a smirk. You nod, squeezing your eyes shut as she steps behind you and begins trailing the tails of the whip over your body--soft, feather-light touches to your stomach and up to your breasts. Your nipples grow hard under the agonizingly gentle touches, and soon, she's moving the feather in quick, light circles over the sensitive buds. The touch drags out a tortured moan from the back of your throat. It's softer than the whip from before, and it only makes your nipples harder than they were. She's relentless with the toy, alternating between quick circles over the buds of your nipples and gently dusting it idly back and forth.

Finally, she gives you some relief. She sets the toy on the table and walks around to the front of your chair before idly kneeling in front of you. Slowly, she cuts off the bonds securing your legs to the feet of the chair, giving you the ability to move them.

"Spread your legs," she orders. You do as you're told. You can practically feel her warm breath against your aching core, and you want to beg her to eat you out now. But you know that won't get you anywhere. Instead, you spread your legs and lean your head back as you try to keep still.

She doesn't lick you open the way you desperately need her to--instead, she trails the feather up your folds and over your clit, making you grind your teeth and groan.

"Oh my God," you gasp weakly. "Please. Mabel. Ma'am. Please."

Your legs are shaking hard now, and it's nearly impossible to keep them still. You've long given up on trying to be quiet when you can't stop your breath from heaving in and out of your chest in harsh, dragging gasps. She seems to be enjoying herself, humming in pleasure every so often as she prods and tickles your sensitive clit with the gentle feather.

"Oh, honey, that must feel good," she murmurs.

"M-nnh, please," you choke out. Your head spins as your hips jerk harshly against the torturously-light sensation. You're soaked between your shaking thighs, and it's not just from the water. That wicked grin spread wide across her face is a tell-all that she knows just how desperate you are.

"You've been much better for me," she praises gently. "What do you think, baby? You need more than that, don't you?"

She pulls the feather away without warning, and you don't know if you want to moan in relief or beg her to bring it back. She doesn't say another word--she crouches down, right between your thighs, and gives you a little pout as you watch her with feverish need. Very slowly, she finally leans forward and latches her mouth onto your throbbing clit, and suckles on it. You yell in pleasure, bucking your hips into her mouth as she takes her time with the gentle pursing of her lips. The way she takes gentle care with the sensitive bud as she would a lollipop between your thighs is maddening and perfect all at the same time. She doesn't even pause to pull away to lick it. It's mortifying how fast it takes you to cum with the hot, wet movement of her mouth working so gently over you--but when you do, it makes your back arch painfully in the chair.

"Fuck. Oh my God, fuck," you babble. She keeps sucking, even after you come down from your orgasm--and, God, you know one won't be enough. Your body is still hot and on-edge, desperate for something after the relentless teasing it endured only minutes before.

"Good girl," she hums gently. She looks up at you with a wicked smirk, clearly pleased. Your hips twitch, and your breathing is still heavy and labored as you look down at her in disbelief.

"That wasn't enough, was it?" she asks softly. She cups your jaw with her hand and you shake your head.

"No, ma'am, it wasn't. Felt so good," you babble.

She laughs gently, trailing her hand down to toy idly with your nipple. It makes you whimper and squirm in the chair.

"God, look at you. Your clothes hanging off of you, all wet and hot between your thighs."

She stands up to walk behind you and quickly cuts the ropes binding your hands to the chair. She places a finger under your chin and guides you to stand up as she comes back around to face you again.

"Take off my corset."

With shaking hands, you nod and lift your hands up to her back to fumble with the ties. Unlacing the garment takes a moment, but soon, the corset comes undone and you're able to pull it off and drop it to the floor.

"Good girl. Now, kneel down and undo my garter belts and take off my boots."

She sits down on the chair where you were tied to just moments before. Doing as she says, you unzip her boots, carefully discarding each one before undoing the garter belt holding up her stockings. You take your time, despite the shaking in your fingers and your trembling thighs. Even after your last, intense orgasm, you're already eager to feel her again.

She gives you similar orders for her belt. Once she is dressed down to her white suit, she stands up and unzips it, letting it fall to the floor. A black, lacy bra with matching panties frame her body, making you stare in silent awe. Still on your knees, you can feel that familiar heat stirring in your stomach at the sight of her as you look up at her body. You have to remind yourself to keep your mouth from falling open.

Leaning down, she takes your hand and brings it up between her thighs. You shiver as you feel the wet warmth trickling down between her legs.

"Feel how wet I am?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Mmh. Good. You did all that to me, princess. You got me all excited, all turned on with how pretty and good you were for me..."

She trails her nails up your body to cradle your jaw.

"Now take off my panties and get to work with that mouth."

You nod quickly. You hook your fingers through the waistband of her panties and slide them down her legs for her to step out of. She grabs the back of your head and pushes you in between her thighs with a soft moan before you can even lean in to begin to lick her open. Grabbing her thighs, you turn your head from side to side, curling and lapping with your tongue to reach all the spots you know she loves so much. The smell and taste of her are nearly overwhelming, but you can't get enough of it.

"You wanted this so bad, didn't you?" she laughs softly. Her hips roll as you hit a spot that makes her moan softly. "Ooh, that's it. That's my good girl. Just like that... a little more to the front. Good."

You swirl your tongue around her clit and hear her breath catch as she tightens her grip on your hair from the back of your head to keep you in place. The smell and taste of her are incredible, and as you bob your head and flatten out your tongue, you can tell that what you're doing is working.

"Mmh. Oh, that's it. That's it...look at you..."

She thrusts her hips, rocking them against your soft tongue. You're content to let her use your mouth, to grind up against your lips and tongue as she pulls your face closer to her dripping folds.

You're aware of her watching you, getting off almost as much to the sight of you enjoying this so much as she is to the feel of your lips and tongue working her open. You let out a soft moan as she tugs your hair harder, dragging your tongue up and down in between her folds as you feel her legs stiffen with pleasure.

"Little more, baby," she coos, her voice strained. She begins thrusting her hips into your mouth, rolling them when she hits a perfect spot. You work your mouth faster, watching as her jaw hangs open in a silent cry of pleasure.

"Yes," she hisses. "Don't stop. Don't stop."

Her hips thrust three more times before she gasps and finally stills, pulling your head away as her large chest heaves in and out.

"Good girl," she praises. She pulls out a handkerchief and wipes your mouth before leaning down to kiss you. You moan weakly into her mouth, feeling like you could melt from the smallest touch. You're soaking wet again, and the urge to beg her to fuck you lays heavy on your tongue. But you stay quiet.

"I'm not done with you yet," she promises with a wide grin. "Go upstairs and lay down on the bed. Clothes off. And I better see you playing with yourself when I get up there."

You stand up with an obedient yes ma'am, before quickly exiting the kitchen and hurrying upstairs. With a swallow, you push open her bedroom door and lay down. Your hand trails up your body before you begin playing with your nipples, pinching them and rolling them between your fingers in anticipation until they grow hard underneath your hands. Your breath catches, and you're caught in the rosy fantasy of it being Mabel's beautiful hands kneading you and teasing you this way instead of your own. You reach one hand down and slowly begin slipping two fingers in and out of yourself as you hold the image of her pleasuring you inside your head. You're so caught up in the daydream that you're startled when she walks back in.

"That's what I like to see," she coos. She's still naked, save for her bra. The only change is her sizeable, purple strap-on attached to her belt and the chain of nipple clamps in her hand. You stare at her strap-on with anticipation. Slowly, she climbs onto the bed and kneels in front of you with a soft order to sit up and take off her bra. Quickly, you unhook it and toss it aside. You could stare at her breasts all day, the way they hang over her chest, all but drooling over her pink nipples already hard in the cool air.