PARTAGÉ AVEC LUI

[LeaT]

a story by @LeaT & @Rex. & @Mistress Minny

Brigitte Gutiérrez
aka.Mon Chaton {my kitty}
Age: 33
Eye/Hair Color: Brown/Dark
Profession: Head of Graphics || Devoted Submissive
Nationality: French-American
Authored by: LeaT

Sterling Remington
aka."Regent"
Age: 30
Eye/Hair Color: Brown/Dark
Profession: Executive
Nationality: American
Authored by: Rex.

Minny Arden
aka."Mistress"
Age: 32
Eye/Hair Color: Hazel/Dark
Profession: Executive
Nationality: American
Authored by: Mistress Minny

kinks​

---

aftercare ~ auction ~ bondage {light} ~ breast play ~ climax control / denial ~ cunnilingus {giving & receiving} ~ exhibitionism ~ face-fucking ~ face-sitting ~ fellatio {giving & receiving} ~ forced nudity ~ forced oral sex ~ forced orgasm ~ group sex ~ heel/boot & stocking worship ~ inspection-assessment ~ kissing ~ leash/collar ~ marking {hickeys, bruises, cum} ~ mutual oral sex {69} ~ nipple clamps {nipple pinching} ~ orgasms ~ non-consensual ~ objectification ~ rimming {giving & receiving} ~ sexual exhaustion ~ spanking ~ strap-ons ~ submission ~ toys ~ tribadism ~ wetting

limits​

---

bathroom play ~ gore ~ hyper-sizing ~ snuff ~ scat​

 

[Rex.]

Sterling Remington sat in the plushly upholstered chair of suede leather, seemingly relaxed but eyes fixed upon the door across the room. Every detail of the room had been arranged with precision, with intent to impress; and, why wouldn't it be? The maverick businessman had secured a deal of a lifetime: direct opportunities and contacts to Zuleau in exchange for a personal assistant that did much more than file his paperwork. Minny Arden could only be described as a force of nature, and though they held a sort of stalemate when it came to the brinkmanship of negotiation, Sterling knew that the gift of her lover was not one offered lightly.

With a breath that ended up becoming a sigh, Sterling glanced at his phone once again. He'd done so multiple times daily since he learned that Brigitte would be on loan to him to use, to fuck, to simply be with. Sterling's chiseled features lit up white as Brigitte's face peered back at him. She looked exquisitely French, playfully mysterious, and undeniably erotic. The eyes gave her an allure that sold Sterling. And, any minute, both she and her owner would enter through that door ...

Sterling glanced at the bottles of wine that sat upon the side bureau, the white chilled and the red already aerated in a carafe. Several crystal glasses from his personal collection stood at the ready to be used as needed. In his heart, Sterling doubted that the wine would be touched; there would be a very different drug and enticement that would intoxicate all involved. He had little idea about the exact nature of the "hand-off" (as Mistress Minny put it) but he sensed that she wanted a display of theater. For whose benefit he could not say; Sterling just wanted the dark-haired submissive and get to claiming her.

That reminded him ...

With his phone already out, Sterling tapped at the email the Domme sent to him about the "ground rules". It was ... unusual for a dominant, such as himself, to be given conditions and parameters when it came to sexual and erotic engagements. In fact, he was one to break past and through such presumptions, which always yielded thrills that endeared whomever he used to his personality. Respect was paramount, of course, but he scanned the text to review the conditions.

THE RULES
1. Brigitte belongs to me, period.
2. She is being lent to you, do not presume ownership or any entitlements.
3. Only I refer to her as 'Kitten' or 'Chaton'. You may name her as you wish.
4. She will refer to you as 'Regent', as you are acting in my stead.
5. As her Owner, I reserve the right to claim her at any time.
6. She submits to your dominance by choice, and she can depart at any time.
7. Do not discuss topic related to myself or my business.
8. Agree to safe-words and respect them, along with her limits.
9. If you harm her in any way, I will fucking crucify you. ​

The businessman had the distinct impression that his mother was giving him a precious toy, or the keys to the car, and allowing him to demonstrate his responsibility. Being made to feel like a child was not something that happened to Sterling, but this was a unique and unusual situation. Sterling knew that he had to toe the line in order to continue to be in Mistress Minny's good graces. Sterling worked to put all such trivialities out of his mind as he heard what could only be heel steps outside the hotel room. Though carpeted, the sounds of approach from the hallway stirred butterflies in the man's stomach. Hearing the magnetic lock unlatch made his heart stop in anticipation.

Sterling held his breath as he watched two amazing and beautiful women enter the room. Show time.

 

[Mistress Minny]

Two women, bedecked in class and elegance, entered the open elevator in the lobby in reserved silence. Many eyes could not help straying to observe them, marvel at them. Both wearing short, black peacoats, the pair moved as a unit, their darkly sheer, stocking-clad legs moving with patient purpose. They looked similar as they moved in tandem; the one in the lead long-haired, though it was tied in a bun, the one who followed sporting her dark hair in a bob cut. They radiated an aura that would affect all who encountered them, but none could either discern or divine the nature of their power or relationship to one another. For the answer to the riddle of their mystique was that they drew power from their relationship; most people had no idea how to even conceive of being so profoundly connected in the Modern era.

And so, Mistress Minny and her Chaton, Brigitte, left the lobby and the sealed elevator doors gave them the last minute of privacy they'd enjoy for months. Minny wasted no time, tearing open the buttoned coat of boiled wool and exposing Brigitte's lingerie-clad frame. The Domme's lips mashed in feral lust against those of her most prized possession, as her hands felt her firm, hand-sized tits without apology ... like the woman was her property.

Because, in a very real sense, Brigitte was; and, the Mistress's Chaton surrendered every inch of her mind, body, and soul to the Domme for whom love was more than just a word. The bond that united them was unbreakable, and that fueled part of the rationale for the Mistress loaning her most beloved pet to the businessman for the next several months. Sterling and Minny had grown to be something akin to friendly associates in the high-stakes game of corporate finance and profit-seeking. They knew, almost immediately, that the other carried an air of confidence that only came from being the ruling party in the sultry practice of sexual domination.

"So, Sterling dear, I have a proposition for you ..." Those were the fateful words Minny uttered less than a month ago when the man casually bemoaned needing a proper French translator and assistant. It all worked out on paper, and Minny sharing Brigitte's image sealed the deal --- Brigitte would be Sterling's professional attaché by day and sexual submissive by night. {a veritable 24/7 cum-slut} In exchange, Sterling would ensure that Zuleau's business assets and new acquisitions would steadily increase. Assured revenues would free Minny's mind to other pursuits and allow her focus on projects having been put on hold for far too long. A cynic might label Minny's offer "sex trafficking," but Brigitte was not submitting to the arrangement against her will. She loved her Mistress, as the Mistress loved her Chaton.

As their lips parted, the heated and aroused Domme took hold of the collar Brigitte wore and tugged her face closer for one last french kiss. "I love you," Minny whispered, a hint of water lining the bottom of her eye. The Domme discretely wiped away the moisture before returning to point, face bearing a stern expression as she marched with purpose to the appointed hotel room. They stopped and Mistress took off her coat, revealing her outfit and riding crop ... then removed Brigitte's coat completely, before affixing a stainless steel chain to her collar ring.

No knocking, just a swipe of the pass key and the door went wide open; Mistress Minny entered with her Chaton in tow. She would give the impression of a erotically-confident and regal woman of immense poise, striding into the room wearing her signature heels and regarding the male sitting in the leather chair with an look of unimpressed boredom. She walked until she found a long counter, there she dropped their coats and picked up an object left per her instructions to Sterling. Minny continued with deliberate steps until she stood several feet in front of Sterling, the man slowly began to rise from his chair ...

"I did not give you permission to rise!" Minny snapped, her riding crop pointing straight at the man's heart.

Sterling's eyes went wide in shock, and he slowly retreated back into the chair. He could be heard breathing in and out, more of a sigh --- Minny smirked and paraded Brigitte in front of him. Brigitte would be made to feel as if on display, as if being exhibited for this stranger's appraisal and enticement. To add to the moment, Minny's fingers swept the shoulder straps of Brigitte's lingerie down her shoulder and then ever. so. slowly. tugged down her cups to expose her perfect breasts.

Minny moved behind Brigitte, nipping at her earlobe from behind. The Domme's free hand reached around and openly fondled her submissive's breasts for Sterling to watch, pinching at the pink nipple playfully. The riding crop dragged up and down her Chaton's stocking legs, swiping swiftly on her rear end to make the submissive jump and jiggle her bosom.

"Tell me, Mr. Remington," Minny asked, self-satisfied. "Is she not the most beautiful, perfect creature you ever laid eyes upon?"

 

[LeaT]

This was by no means the first time Brigitte had been paraded through a hotel lobby, her every step in perfect synchronization of her owner and lover. It came almost naturally now, the choreographed precision and the sultry submissive had long since stopped even thinking about the eyes upon her and her Mistress. Brigitte was an accomplished professional and an attractive woman, she could choose any path she wanted in the business world, but she would be no where else than where she was right this instance. She willingly and passionately gave herself to her Mistress, Minny Arden. The line between business and pleasure between the two women was so blurred it no longer had any real meaning. Brigitte may not have cared about the eyes upon her and Mistress, but she knew that it was important for Mistress to have every detail of appearance be just so. For this reason she held her pose even as the elevator doors sealed shut and they were alone. Ever the willing and faithful submissive, she knew better than to actively anticipate Mistress' desires before she expressed them but she was familiar enough with her proclivities to obey instantly.

Though clearly and utterly submissive to Mistress, Brigitte knew well her value to her owner. As such, she had little doubt the transaction about to take place would be both temporary and of high value to Mistress and by extension to herself. A scientist might call it symbiotic, but that term would do no justice to the passion and love between them.

Brigitte's lips parted upon impact with those of her Mistress even as her coat was opened and her lingerie exposed. Mistress always made her Chaton feel so sexy as she treated her like the property, very prized property. The parting would be painful, like a physical blow, but both women understood the importance of it. It was also not as if she were being left to the whims of just anyone. Mistress had vetted this particular associate more thoroughly than even Brigitte had found necessary. Not that she questioned Mistress' judgement on the matter, but it had made her feel special at how thorough Mistress had been.

"I know." Brigitte said, with about as much cheek as she could muster and only because the two of them had been alone. She could see the hint of tear in Mistress' eye and it nearly brought tears to her eyes as well.
They proceeded to the appointed door, Brigitte's eyes caught Mistress' just as she felt the click of leash on collar. "I love you." She said, unable to let her last words alone be the cheeky response to Mistress' declaration of love, but neither had she simply wanted to parrot the phrase. She wanted to say it on its own at that very last moment when they were still alone.

As the door opened with a click, Brigitte followed behind and leash length like a proper pet, much better behaved than her notoriously finicky namesake. Brigitte could feel the eyes of her temporary owner upon her and tried to ignore them much like the eyes on her down in the lobby. That became more difficult as Mistress slowly exposed her breasts and cropped her ass.

She managed to stay impassive until she looked directly at the man. Her eyes lingered longer than she intended and that was a mistake. "Why did he have to be so fucking handsome?" The thought struck her like a slap across the face.

As Mistress asked her question, Brigitte's eyes betrayed that she wasn't nearly as aloof as she wanted to portray herself. She was fixated, her eyes captured by his as if the man's answer was suddenly of critical importance. Brigitte couldn't remember the last time a man's opinion of her looks mattered in the slightest to her. But suddenly, it very much did.

 

[Rex.]

Many women could be counted as notches in Sterling's belt over the years. Most were casual encounters, the dominant sweeping in with subtle, debonair grace when an opportunity presented itself. The man could sense erotic potential with preternatural skill, and he had learned to hone his appetite to expect nothing less than the very best. Sterling was a man defined by intuition and masculine presence; he rarely made himself known in situations of little concern, but when he wished for the world to arrange itself in a particular manner, Sterling intervened with a gravity most found undeniable. He was used to people around him, not notably poised ladies who harbored a submissive streak, being affected by his gaze and demeanor.

This time, Sterling found himself being the one affected by someone of great beauty and presence. Both their eyes met, and a flash of passionate fire burst to life deep within the man. Although Sterling committed himself to an agenda of stoic self-portrayal, Brigitte would see the seated man (not normally affected by trivialities) being stirred upon apprehending Brigitte in her full glory.

"She's ... amazing," Sterling spoke in the whispered tone that came when being awe-struck.

From the outset, Brigitte's reaction should not have surprised Sterling. But, nothing about the encounter he found himself lost within was going according to his expectations. Such mental condolences when control could not be fully promised or gained felt fragile in that moment, for Sterling braced himself for a truly new experience. Meeting Brigitte was an integral component of that bracing, near profound process of witnessing a ritual of magnificence. Being, for all intents and purposes, gelded by the fair Mistress put Sterling at a loss ... of being a passive participant where he could only receive. The rules and essential schedule of Minny's performance had been laid out beforehand, but actually being a spectator of Minny's erotic event would count as an experience that would deeply affect the dominant businessman.

Sterling had expected Brigitte to be impassive, aloof. Given what the Mistress had described, Brigitte was her core lover ... even life partner. She was described as strong as steel and more faithful than any human could be. Why then did Sterling detect a daunted quality in the dark eyes from someone Mistress insisted as being dauntless? The reality of the reasons, Sterling told himself, was likely mundane in origin. It could have been that she had personal plans that her new assignment interrupted, or it could have been that she was only alerted to her new role only recently. Such causes could contribute to one failing in focus, or at the very least detract from attempts at projecting oneself as Mistress's hardcore devotee.

A genuine hunger grew in Sterling's core for Brigitte as their eye contact held and maintained; little did Sterling realize that what he deemed a fleeting glimpse would soon be served in overwhelming degree. Any semblance of coherent thought flew out the window once Mistress Minny began the demonstration, pulling down the lingerie Brigitte wore that covered her pert breasts. Sterling's eyes went wide, enthralled at how such a simple act of revelation could entice Sterling to lust for the French woman even more than the burning desire already brewing.

Mistress Minny's instructions had been clear: remain seated while she exhibited her Chaton. He rose up initially upon their arrival as a gesture of respect and welcome. Sterling was unaware that the routine Minny had concocted began the moment she stepped through the doorway. But, as the show was definitely in progress, Sterling sat back in that leather chair with his hands resting upon the side arm-rests. He could feel his heart knocking in his chest, riveted and aroused at what was in store.

 

[Mistress Minny]

Mistress Minny harbored a wound from the elevator that she'd never reveal to the woman she loved. The last possible moment was not outside the hotel room, but inside that elevator. Mistress transformed into a honed weapon of feminine dominance the moment her heeled step found the carpeted hallway. What words Brigitte spoke as Minny clipped the metal-link chain to her collar failed to register, she had already engaged her mind and demeanor to the task at hand. Minny did not acknowledge Brigitte's declaration as it came too late --- for all intents and purposes, "I know" were the last words that Minny would remember until they met again.

It was such a silly thing, but underneath the cold, demanding exterior, Minny Arden possessed an enormous heart easily wounded by ill-timed infractions, cute or not. Time would come to sulk; Minny needed to hand-off her property to Mr. Remington.

The swarthy, cold-eyed woman offered neither a smirk or a smile when she asked her {supremely} rhetorical question. Minny had made her ferocious love for Brigitte abundantly clear when in conversations with him about transferring her Chaton into his care. Reminding Sterling of Minny's mastery over the situation, the purpose of the demonstration was the last safeguard the Mistress could perform before walking out of the room and {however much it privately pained her} turn her back on Brigitte to the devices of the male dominant. She also wanted to instill the fear of HER into his male heart, and know what torturous warfare would be unleashed if dared cross even a single boundary she had mandated. Mistress Minny encompassed a conflict of contradictions: the pull and tug of what she wanted and didn't want versus what she needed to do all intermixed into a mired melange of discord.

Aside from the initial misstep of thinking he could rise in the Domme's presence, Sterling appeared to be complying with Minny's instructions. Exposing Brigitte's bosom to the man showed him that her Mistress could do what she wanted, when she wanted. A touch of pride also fueled the Domme presenting and parading her property for the man, showing him precisely what belonged to her ... what he could re-claim at any moment --- the woman whom Sterling could come to desire but be forever unattainable.

Minny's hand snaked under Brigitte's armpit and grasped her throat, inching her head back and her spine to curve. The Domme's riding crop dragged up the vertical surface of Brigitte's legs and belly, stopping at her exposed breasts to begin swatting them. The strikes increased in strength and sting, continuing until her Chaton's pert breasts were swollen, tender, and ripe with aroused stimulation. Brigitte would feel her Mistress's breath in her ear, the feel of her teeth on her earlobe before she whispered: "Make me proud ... hands on his, stare into his eyes."

The grip around Brigitte's throat released, but in the wake of free air came Minny's strong hand taking hold of the collar's backside. Nudges from Mistress's pelvis on her submissive's ass cheeks told her to move forward without words. The French woman was forced to stand before this man --- this utter stranger --- as her breasts hung down when Minny positioned Brigitte to rest her hands upon Sterling's while bent at the waist, her face a dozen inches from the male dominant's handsome visage.

A sound of retrieval and stretched fabric would narrate the tense and erotic awkwardness of Brigitte and Sterling gazing deeply into one another's eyes. The dildo that Minny had picked up on the side table rested in her hand; a wince and quiet grunt announced the smaller plug-end entering the Domme's sex --- the seven-inch long, ribbed shaft protruded with single purpose as Minny tugged at the stainless steel chain and slipped the head of the sex-object gradually into her Chaton's ready pussy.

Sterling would see everything ... in Brigitte's eyes. The moment of entry, the widening of her gaze in ecstasy, and the blurring of her vision as the shaft touched home deep within her. Her face would display all of these events, but moreover communicate the pleasure that only Minny could deliver. The Mistress wanted Brigitte's fingers to grip into the top of Sterling's hands, wanted him to feel the way Mistress brought unparalleled bliss to the woman she loved. When Minny felt Brigitte's round ass on her stocking thigh, she tensed the chain leash and took hold of the French woman's scalp. The bob-cut hair, silken and fine, came out of her face so that Sterling could see {without obstruction} the way Mistress's attention made her property's face contort in euphoria.

No words were spoken as Minny filled her woman from behind, wanting Brigitte's moans and cries to be the soundtrack of her demonstration. In time, Minny began to quicken the pace and slap at Brigitte's inviting ass cheeks until glowed a rose-colored hue.

 

[LeaT]

Brigitte knew something was wrong with Mistress, she had assumed it was their impending separation. It would have caused her deep distress to realize that Mistress was so deep into her dominant persona that her Chaton's words of affection were not heard. That before this longest of separations the last words Mistress would have registered from her was her unusual bit of cheek that had been a product of her own anxiety over her upcoming role in Mistress' plans. But writing it off to something else, Brigitte entered the hotel room intent on nothing but making her Mistress proud. As Brigitte's exposed breasts were displayed for this man's approval, Mistress seemed very much her dominant self, taking full control of the room, showing herself as the dominant of dominants with no doubt left in anyone's mind, especially not hers. That was at least a small comfort to her, knowing her Mistress ruled supreme even here.

Her gaze at Sterling softened slightly as he declared her 'amazing' her lips might have even registered the slightest hint of a smile. She was rather fond of praise, a not insignificant portion of her day was committed to maintaining her body in top condition and she enjoyed the occasional confirmation of her efforts. Despite the way she jiggled and flinched at the strikes of the crop, she very much enjoyed that too. Mistress may have been making her own impression on her new business associate, but it doubled nicely as a 'care and feeding' instruction for her Chaton.

Mistress' display was both effective and thorough, she could see the proud man's every breath focused upon the women before him as Brigitte's body was played like a fine violin by a virtuoso. But then she was ordered to do the most difficult of tasks for her at this moment. Stare into this man's eyes as Mistress continued her demonstration. In the time since Brigitte came to belong to Mistress, she had enjoyed the privilege of being completely transparent to her owner. But she was only pledged to obey this man, not be his soulmate, not to open up every corner of her being to him. She could keep secrets from this man, would be expected to, but those eyes were piercing and Brigitte's defenses out of practice.

It wasn't too difficult at first but as Brigitte realized what was about to happen she knew it would be much more challenging to maintain her heir of disinterest as Mistress continued. Perhaps that was her plan, to make Brigitte vulnerable to this man? To test her resolve? Her eyes hardened as if it were about to be a test of wills of sorts between them.

That hardness melted with penetration and Brigitte's full red lips parted with a soft exhale of pleasure that sounded of pure bliss. It was Mistress' final challenge before Mr. Remington, to be able to bring such ecstasy to her Chaton. As the pleasure built, Brigitte held her hands on top of Sterling's but her fingers curled beneath, her perfectly manicured nails digging slightly into the flesh of his palm. As the thrusts came with a perfected rhythm, Brigitte's breasts bounced and swayed as Mistress knew the exact frequency of her Chaton's body.

Mistress found all of Brigitte's most sensitive places and she began to lose eye contact as the pleasure became overwhelming. She was about to climax right in front of Sterling, her fingernails now painfully jabbing into his palm as her leash was pulled tight and her face, a mask of sexual fulfillment, presented to her temporary owner. It was then that Brigitte came, her eyes too unfocused to fully capture Sterling's but she tried as she might. Brigitte doubted she could cum like this for a man, she had a feeling Mistress knew the same.

 

[Rex.]

Steel gray eyes locked fixated upon the perfect face in front of him. Brigitte's expression animated at every lurid movement the Mistress made behind her. She was being fucked right in front of him, ostensibly a last demonstration of minor cuckoldry. But the seat could not be surpassed, and Sterling marveled at each minute and cumulative contortion of Brigitte's facial expression: her eyes glazing over, her eyebrows arching, her jaw slackening, her posture weakening when the Mistress's strap-on hit home in ways that reminded the submissive why she belonged to her goddess.

A clear message was being sent to Sterling, one that came with planning and inculcation. Mistress Minny, though willing, was not obliged to surrender the woman who meant the world to her. The meaning inherent in the spectacle before Sterling had been orchestrated for the sole intent, not of hand-off, but exhibition. What was exhibited had nothing to do with parading her skill as a dominant bitch extraordinaire, having more to do with defining precisely how what would be his to use was not his at all. Not even a little--not even close.


The desire for Brigitte had been cultivated in Sterling by the Mistress over some time, several weeks to be specific. It began with a simple photo, one that took the man's breath away. He couldn't function, unable to command himself as he stared catatonic at the vision of feminine beauty. So many women preened themselves with ideas of "beauty" that apprehending Brigitte's pure vision struck Sterling like chain lightning. It did not surprise him to learn that Brigitte was French, as she seemed to epitomize the cultural ethos of flaunting what you are and owning it with confident flair.

Needless to say, Sterling found himself both beheld and beholden to the erotic spectacle playing out inches from his face. Mistress had hinted at what might happen, demanding that he be seated and remain in place at all times. Her edicts made it all too clear that she wanted to control him as she decided how to use the woman who had caused feelings to flush in the jaded businessman's heart. The Mistress was both cruel and deluded, dangling her Chaton like a lure for an ignorant beast yet dictating how he could consumer her. Sterling was all too aware that, while in that hotel room, Brigitte remained on a string tied to a stick--to be yanked out of reach by the Mistress.

But, Sterling was a patient man. He knew that the night would ultimately be his and the string, while uncut, would be given innumerable miles of slack that made micro-management practically unfeasible. Oversight, yes; however, the exhibition almost reeked of a desperation steeped in the sadness of losing the company and daily control of her soulmate.

Sterling Remington was nothing if not an empathetic man; he knew all too well the linger pain of loss. He had embraced that darkness years ago, but it fueled his unearthly, smoldering presence and unbreakable confidence. Whatever does not kill you makes you stronger--or, so the saying goes. The only pain on Sterling's mind was the curl of Brigitte's nails into the sides of his palms, transferring or conveying her escalating pleasure into a distribution dynamic--making the dominant who normally wielded punitive action to be the recipient of discomfort as a price to pay for access. Well played, Minny. In spite of the irritation that would have his hands tingling all the next day, the phenomena of (more than simply watching, but) feeling the energy Brigitte radiated while in the throes of orgasmic bliss left Sterling in a state of rapture. Sterling wanted her; he wanted to be the one to make Brigitte feel the pleasure of extreme, sexual deviance.

When Brigitte came, Sterling slowly righted his posture plumb, his steely gaze intent in absorbing every micro-second of the divine majesty before him. She would feel Sterling's hand tremble slightly, feel the effect of witnessing her climax had upon him. Some dominants preferred the casual freedom of anonymity, but Sterling drew his lineage from those dominants who felt it critical to know their charges with profound familiarity. Brigitte felt like an open portal to a world he'd scarcely believed possible, and his heart accelerated rapidly and the excitement in his gut swirled when the French woman's eyes were forced to regard him post-orgasm.

Those eyes--dark and erotic, inviting yet shielded in confidence. Sterling wanted to be in those pool of dark brown; he wanted to be what was desired when they came to life and twinkled with sexual magic. His face was close to hers, mere inches, and Sterling could almost taste her breath as she panted against the clink of her metal link leash being pulled taut.

"Amazing ...," he reiterated in a whisper of disbelief.

 

[Mistress Minny]

The Mistress had exhibited for people before in her long and rich career of professional debauchery. The woman considered herself a Domme and dominant first and businesswoman second. For, if one preceded and ruled over the other, Minny placed her capacity to control the lives and minds of men and woman above all else.

Her business ventures and personal dealings hinged upon being able to impose herself without saying a word. Minny's effect upon people was less intimidation than 'disturbance' --- unnerving people with reserved confidence and sexual presence. Often times, people unraveled themselves as she was a sort of erotic catalyst that summoned the deepest desires in people, most often yearnings that they never knew existed.

Minny had lost count of the number of straight women she'd seduced with a simple smile ... or, the number of men who proposed marriage to her after a five minute conversation. Minny always smiled politely, knowing the effect when she witnessed it --- people coming into contact with their true, erotic natures for the first time in their lives. She learned to wield her capacity to affect people to a honed stiletto of incisive, corporate efficacy. She ruled over fought-for results, profits, and lust-filled women with a finesse of a shark navigated water to stalk schools of unsuspecting prey.

Those impulses led her to this juncture; though a tinge of regret lay hidden within the barred vaults of the woman's tender heart, none would know her truth. The only person on earth that would know {whom Minny would even consider confiding in} was getting railed for the entertainment and erotic arousal of a brokerage partner. Minny, indeed, ruled over the session within that hotel room, and the performance {though objectively hot and pleasurable} did little to assuage Minny's growing anxiety. But, professionals never let their feelings interfere with or dilute their performance. Minny clenched her teeth and did was she intended.

Though a light-weight herself, Minny commanded Brigitte's light frame and body as she was bent toward the male dominant. Minny could not see Sterling's expression, but she could tell that he was obeying her edict and sitting in place while Minny deflowered his new fuck-toy right before his eyes. Was it petty? Perhaps, but Minny needed to disabuse the male dominant of any notion of privilege; if the man had worn a smug expression, Minny would have whipped it off his face with savage lashes of her riding crop.

The thrusts from Minny's strap-on dildo jostled the lithe woman before the businessman. She railed her, in relentless fashion, rubbing her inner sheath and applying tugs and sharp touches in the precise combination that cast the woman into the abyss of orgasmic delight. Her Chaton came right in front of Sterling, and Minny felt a divide of inner conflict -- both appeased to have shown her supremacy, yet also violated for having revealed the most intimate of pleasures {until that moment} reserved wholly for her alone. The nature of the beast, she echoed in hollow platitude. Yanking on the chain leash, Minny made Brigitte look into Sterling's eyes when all she wanted to do was descend into a puddle or orgasmic goo upon the floor.

"Kiss him, my Chaton," she ordered.

The muffled whines and humming made it clear that her submissive was an obedient, sexual servant of the highest order. She kept the large strap-on dildo lodged firmly within Brigitte's sex, dialing back the pace just enough for the woman to regain enough lucidity to follow her orders to the letter. Minny found a minor comfort not being able to see Brigitte's face or relative enthusiasm ... if she showed any at all.

The next order, however, would be something that drew a line in the sand. It had to be done, and Minny knew once she gave the command, Brigitte would no doubt obey; Minny told herself the lie that her Chaton would not enjoy it, but that began the process of disengagement --- a hardening of her heart to the reality that Sterling Remington would be fucking and giving pleasure to her most precious girl. She steeled herself, then spoke with perfectly obscured pit in her stomach.

"Then ... unfasten his pants and swallow his cock."

 

[LeaT]

Brigitte had been untroubled by her partial nudity in front of a man she had just met, after all she would almost surely be completely naked for him soon. As she came down from her climax and could properly focus once more, she revealed a brief look of recognition at how intimate and vulnerable of a moment she had just demonstrated for this man. As if her very soul had been disrobed before him, which was not far from the truth. Brigitte, was not too unlike her Mistress at least in regards to a sense of privacy as to her true emotions. She was a woman owned more completely than most wives and revealing the depths of her submission to a stranger was not something she had done before.

It was not exactly embarrassment, after all Brigitte was proud to belong to Mistress, but from what she knew of men he would almost certainly want to experience that sense of ownership for himself. That was something she could not allow, but showing it to him would only make him covet it all the more. She sensed Mistress knew all that and despite her anxiety her lips curled upward ever so slightly, it was most likely just another torment she had in store for this man.

None of this gave her any reservations about kissing him as Mistress demanded. She pressed forward without hesitation, her full red lips pressing against Sterling's even as she cocked her head slightly, parting her lips in invitation to his tongue if he so chose. Brigitte was a physical being and she enjoyed the contact of kissing, though it had been years since she kissed a man. But the contrasts between lovers was only beginning for her. She moaned with pleasure but it had nothing to do with Sterling and everything to do with Mistress' slowed, almost teasing pace of taking her from behind. Sterling would feel the slow but steady undulation of increased pressure as Mistress slid into her Chaton and decreased pressure as she withdrew.

Then came the hand off, like a baton in a relay race, except there were two batons, one already buried in Brigitte's hot wet pussy. The other was in Sterling's pants, but not for much longer. Brigitte didn't stop kissing Sterling but her hands went to his belt. Brigitte may have been the epitome of grace but her fingers were just a little uncertain as she fumbled slightly with the no longer familiar men's clothing that stood between her and Mistress' desire. But she worked diligently if not downright enthusiastically at freeing his cock.

Only then did she break the kiss, she didn't look up at him, instead she looked down at the task before her. Her nostrils flared as she recalled that once familiar scent of male musk. She had expected to suck his cock at some point most certainly and it was as good a place as any to start. But Mistress hadn't told her to suck him, she had specifically said swallow. Brigitte's soft warm hands flattened and enclosed his cock, looking almost as if she were about to pray if it weren't for the lewd addition of Sterling's manhood between her hands. She took several deep breaths, like a swimmer preparing for an extended dive.

She ignored Sterling, well most of him except his throbbing manhood. With one more deep breath her lips parted and she impaled her pretty face on his shaft and pressed herself downward. He filled her mouth easily and was soon pressing into the back of her throat. She swallowed and pressed, some most unlady like gurgles emerged from her mouth as she devoured him. The muscles of her back and torso constricted as she gagged once, then a second time before he would feel her soft palette and throat begin to sleeve around his cock. It wasn't exactly fellatio, it was a demonstration of obedience and ability, but promised so much more. She didn't stop until her nose pressed into his belly and her lips stretched about his base. Her back arched once more as she gagged, but she stayed obediently in that position until her Mistress said otherwise, even if it meant she would pass out from lack of air.

 

[Rex.]

The spectacle before the seated Sterling began to tug at the man's erotic soul in unprecedented ways. He'd witnessed lurid acts up-close and personal, but nothing in comparison to the intimacy on display. The man felt a pall and frisson grip the wavering margins of his rampant libido; Sterling understood that the pair fucking in front of him could very well have been a husband and wife. The depth of their bonds transcended the often tenuous "dedication" that erotic partners had for one another. Being a true submissive had become a lost art in Sterling's esteem -- in the spirit of self-indulgence, "submitting" was one in a myriad array of sexual options that defined the hedonism of the age.

But, there was a difference between "submitting" and surrendering; Mistress's Chaton clearly devoted herself, every molecule of her being, to the women at her rear. Sterling felt a pang of jealousy, and perhaps that was one goal of the exhibition: an illicitly-graphic illustration of Brigitte's character as well as Mistress Arden's unspoken power as a Domme par excellence. The man could not ignore how he coveted everything before him, and though he did not doubt either himself or his brand of domination, Sterling found himself entrenched between his unsated desire and the soulful eroticism that would forever be out of his reach.

Mistress Minny had said as much, in both her blunt and round-about ways, however it took being in the presence of their erotic radiation--generated by their broadcasted intimacy--to truly comprehend his situation. But, whereas most other dominants might have been enervated by the display, their egos emasculated by the display, Sterling accepted the lesson and focused on the only person who truly mattered to him in that moment--Brigitte. The French woman's face hover and jerked about lightly from the sex Mistress Minny imposed at her rear. Her pretty face advancing and retreating in sync with the salacious rhythm at her back-side.

And then, Sterling heard the Mistress's command that changed his life forever.

Brigitte sealed their lips without hesitation, telling Sterling that Mistress's Chaton was no shrinking violet. Her oral affection came with enthusiasm but without passion; it was the kiss of an erotic woman doing what was asked of her. Sterling dubbed her efforts worthy of professional designation and esteem, she gave her all without giving her heart -- but that did not mean Brigitte wasn't a dirty girl. Sterling eagerly responded, knowing full well that his release of lust was done when Mistress Minny allowed it. And, although the apportioning of sated desire made Sterling Minny's servant, the taste of Brigitte's kiss made him forever her willing thrall.

Brigitte might have hummed from the pleasure of being pierced by her Mistress's vigorous thrusts, but Sterling could not restrain the low-end groan that vibrated in his throat at the woman's sultry taste. Her lips were petite and perfect, her enthusiasm enough to make up for the facile gesture; how much more enticing would such a kiss be if Brigitte invested it with feelings beyond those of obedience. For Mistress's Chaton lived up to her name and reputation; she was every inch the perfect woman Minny had described her to be.

Sterling took up Brigitte's offer to inch his tongue inside her mouth. It came with the slow want of pure seduction, though Sterling found that instead of being the seducer, he was being seduced quite unintentionally by the French woman. He quickly became hers upon that first kiss, their tongues inter-mingling in a salsa dance of desire. Sterling tasted Brigitte's saliva, already wanting more. The kiss broke quickly, leaving Sterling breathless and pretending that the woman about to be loaned to him had not just rocked his world to the core. He gazed into her dark eyes with intensity, only then hearing the Mistress's second command.

Her eyes averted, her fingers could have betrayed an amplified enthusiasm Sterling did not expect. The sound of his belt unbuckling, his pants unfurling, music to Sterling's ears--knowing what was to come. He expected pleasure, but that sensation came from the kiss (or, so he assumed); this was to (again) demonstrate Brigitte's total and utter obedience to her Mistress. Her delicate hands warmed his erection with prowess .......... and then in an instant his cock knew the full glory of warmth and saliva-fueled wetness that was Brigitte's mouth. Sterling audibly held his breath at the intensity of the pleasure, barking out a cry of satisfaction that hinted at disbelief. The Mistress could provide or deny, that was the nature of the game they played, and the feel of his bullet-shaped tip touching the back of Brigitte's throat made playing it all worth the effort and relative humiliation.

The woman gagged and gargled, pushed deeper with her Domme's minor thrusts, effectively causing her sexual soulmate to deep-throat his cock by fucking her in spit-roast fashion. Sterling gathered enough composure to glance up at the Mistress, and the woman's blue did not acknowledge the man at all. From his impression, he ceased to exist as her gaze remained fully and faithfully on the woman he adored. Brigitte's lips kissed the flared base of his cock and Sterling's vision blurred, just able to notice the strained tendons of Brigitte's flawless neck. The feeling of the woman's short, black hair hanging down and tickling Sterling's exposed, well-muscled pelvis only added to the temptation. His head tilting back and a low, steady groan emitting as Brigitte's throat worked wonders.

Sterling wanted to cum, just like that--down her throat and making her gag and clamp down to milk his cock dry. Given another fifteen minutes and a lack of social grace, it could have happened; however, Sterling knew that Mistress Arden had more planned. Sterling so wished to release his hands from the prison without walls, touch this woman who would be his to use and acquaint himself with her body and every gorgeous inch.

But, Sterling was nothing if not patient; he kept his eyes closed and focused on the pleasure Brigitte's throat afforded his throbbing erection. Waiting was an integral aspect of the "hand-off", and he knew the best was yet to come.

 

[Mistress Minny]

The moment of truth had arrived; Minny knew that the hand-off had to begin.

A dire emotion coiled in her gut, one unwholesome and unhealthy. But, Mistress Minny wore her title like a professional, because she was in every way. She took the end of the leash and held it between her fingers --- then extending her hand out over Sterling's lap and dropping the chain to collect with metallic clinks. Minny took hold of her Chaton's crown, lifting and lowering it so that her mouth fucked the other dominant's erection like a proper whore. Every last detail and pleasurable sensation would be by her hand until she had washed her hands of the matter.

Deep-throating the man was no longer the objective, and Minny held her submissive's hips and pushed with her own, effectively moving Brigitte's face to fellate Sterling's cock and spit-roasting the french woman in a way she'd never quite experienced. A sharp slap to Brigitte's ass reminded her to wake up, and a second reminded her to whom she belonged.

With that, Minny raised Brigitte's face up to stare once more at Sterling. Her mouth would be filthy with strands of saliva still connected to the man's erection. Before they two had the inkling to kiss, Minny spun her submissive around to face her one last time. The french woman would see dark eyes full of a purpose yet cold and sad. Minny's small yet commanding grip held Brigitte's throat and sat her back between Sterling's spread legs and onto his lap. The man had {upon previous instruction} moved one hand to grip the base of his shaft, directing it upright to impale Brigitte as she was guided back onto it. Hearing the jingle of the stainless steel chain told Minny what he'd done with his other hand, but such detail were beyond the Mistress's scope of concern.

She looked into her Chaton's eyes as the male's warm shaft pierced her lips and replaced where Minny's black phallus had been. The dominant peered into Brigitte's eyes one last time and then released her neck --- the tension replaced by the pull of the chain from behind. Minny retreated, slipping out of the strap-on harness assembly and licking the phallus still wet from her Chaton's aroused chamber. "Remember your oaths," Minny warned Sterling before turning to leave; in her peripheral vision, Minny saw Sterling rolling his pelvis beneath Brigitte and thoroughly filling her up. Their combined sounds of bliss felt like whip upon Minny's soul, and she gathered her things and {head held high} exited the room.

Mistress Minny found a pale relief once in the hallway, the door not shielding every noise the two made in her wake. She walked in a daze to the elevator bank, crossing her arms under her breasts. The sound of her heart pounded in her ears, and she slumped her shoulder against the sidewall, lowering her face into a trembling hand. She sobbed for a few moments before the elevator door gave a sobering ding. She sniffled and pulled a white handkerchief from her clutch, placed there in anticipation of such a reaction.

The deed had been done, and Minny wiped the tears from her eyes. A hard line defined her lips below a deeply furrowed brow. She reminded herself that she was the one to orchestrate the entire affair, and the shock of surrendering her soulmate resonated like the heinous strike of a death knell. Breathing came easier, and when the doors opened on the lobby level, Minny strode out as if her soul was not twisted in jealousy and regret. The white, cloth handkerchief --- marred with smeared mascara --- remained behind on the elevator floor.

 

[LeaT]

Brigitte, her face pulled from Sterling's cock by Mistress' grip on her hair looked into the eyes of the man who now held her leash. Given by her own Mistress to this man she barely knew. Such a transaction may not include Brigitte's heart and soul but there was little doubt after this demonstration that every inch of her body was his to command and enjoy. The thick strand of cum and saliva connecting them mattered little to the sultry Frenchwoman, it might make her look a whore but she didn't care. She would gladly be a whore for her Mistress, some might say that was exactly what she was at the moment, but those people would have no idea of the depth of connection between Mistress and her Chaton.

Her dark eyes longing for her Mistress, Brigitte was turned to face the object of her devotion and the cause of their separation for a lingering last look before they were parted. It was heart wrenching but necessary and though it might not seem that way to anyone else, it was Mistress' parting gift. Mistress' grip on her throat was more comfort than threat, if one knew the language between them, Mistress would feel the pulse of Brigitte's heart bearing just for her. One anxiety of Brigitte's had been that first submission to intercourse between herself and the male that would hold her leash for the immediate future. But the responsibility of that delicate dance was taken from her as Mistress lifted her onto Sterling's lap.

It was not coincidental that Brigitte would hear the slight jingle of her leash as Sterling took control of her just as the head of his cock stretched her soaked and swollen lips. The submissive's chest rose and fell with each furtive breath as inch by inch she was sheathed onto a man's cock for the first time since she had met Mistress and become hers. She was surprised at how different it was to have such thick living flesh enter her, impaling her upon the pulsing shaft. Though still her eyes and her heart remained focused upon Mistress. Seeing her owner and her love gather herself to leave made the realization of her new role real for the very first time.

She nodded wordlessly as Mistress instructed her to "remember your oaths" not realizing it was meant for Sterling. Her core muscles contracted reflexively, squeezing the thick cock driven balls deep into her now, as part of her promise had been to pleasure this man as she would pleasure her Mistress. Dark eyes followed Mistress until the door closed between them and she was alone. Only then did she realize the man was thrusting up and into her. She felt the tug at her collar, arching her back obediently as she rode his cock and purred like a proper Chaton.

There was nothing to say, her graceful body followed his rhythm, complimenting his thrusts with the rocking of her pelvis. She relaxed her core as he thrust upward, and squeezed as he fell back as if she was intentionally trying to milk him of his seed. Far from her mind was whether Mistress had laid out Sterling's responsibility regarding breeding her Chaton. Birth control had not been an issue between Mistress and Brigitte for obvious reasons, but feeling a virile cock inside of her was a reminder of just how much things had changed in less than 24 hours.

 

[Rex.]

The nature of dealing with Chaton's Mistress involved degrees of knowing and ignorance, the staunch technique in the Dominant's toolbox of control. Sterling received specific yet partial instructions that came across (at the time) as a summary of events. "Be seated when we arrive ... do not rise, do not speak ... do not move your hands unless directed ... steady yourself when I make the hand-off." Such were the only indications of what to expect from the evening, all hinting at circumstances before and/or after that were to be hidden, occluded, veiled from Sterling's understanding and, thus, preventing him from usurping Mistress Minny's grand design.

Not that Sterling had any ambitions of upstaging the ultra-sexy Domme; why would he? He was getting the crown jewel of the harem she allegedly kept on-hand. Sterling had a few women on-call, of various degrees of interest and submission to him; none were worthy of total ownership, and none showed either interest nor potential to become more than occasional dalliances: fuck-toys to be used whenever Sterling needed to empty himself into a warm, willing pussy.

Sterling fought to control the volume of his groans as Brigitte's mouth ran along his formidable girth and her throat swallowed his equally admirable length. Sterling's hazel gaze inched up, searching in vain for Mistress Minny's eyes. The moment forged an odd bond of quasi-intimacy--Minny was fucking Sterling's cock by using her Chaton as a living cock-sleeve. Her eyes, her recognition that Sterling had a worth to her or even existed, eluded the captivated dominant man. He paused why he should even concern himself with such a connection, trivial and emotionally-deterred to mark Sterling as less of an equal to the emboldened Queen of the Evening. He wondered if that also composed Mistress's appeal--the aura about her that made others yearn for her approval by default.

The clinking of the chain as it coiled upon his lap from Minny's outstretched hand woke Sterling from his reverie, as did the chill on his dick--made cool by Brigitte's clinging saliva. He released the arm of the chair, what had been his anchor during the session, and gripped the base of his cock to point it upward. It pulsed, bold in its thickness and wanting the luxurious pressure that only a gorgeous woman's sex could offer. Holding the command-end of the chain, Sterling would grunt and gasp aloud when Brigitte's sweet pussy lowered and split itself on his mushroom-shaped tip. The saliva from her Domme-forced fellatio ran down over his gripping hand, and the visceral nature of her fluid made their intimacy, even by increment, that much more real.

Minny still reigned while in the room, guiding her property to sit back upon the male Dom's cock like a princess on a dildo-laden throne. The dark woman made her parting reminder of obligations known, and Sterling nodded with an accord of understanding. He knew that having access to her Chaton was a privilege and the price of fucking up would be more than simply losing this amazing woman--it might very well end in castration for him. But, as regal as she entered, Mistress Minny donned her black raincoat and strode out of the door--her legs stocking-clad and marching with a poised gait of a noble duchess. By that point, Sterling had already taken over the pace .... much like how a speeder guns the acceleration once they know the cops are out of range.

Then, the door closed; Brigitte was under his auspices and domination.

The first order of business was making the woman run without her darling Dominatrix. He wondered if Brigitte felt any disorientation or loss at the exiting of her partner. The answer was beyond obvious, to a degree, but he wanted to intercede for her sake--show her that he could also be a source of stability when she likely needed it most. Brigitte would feel Sterling's hands grasp her wrists and confidently bring them behind her back. The chain in his hand that hung from the collar Brigitte wore had length to use, and he lashed the loose end around the French woman's thin, pale wrists. She seemed like a marble statue to Sterling, and the thought of inflicting harm or damaging marks carried a sense of fundamental wrong. But, Mistress Minny insisted to not hold back on her partner; Sterling obliged.

Brigitte's neck and wrists bound with a length of chain that ran over her spine, Sterling scooted forward and rocked backwards into the chair. When he did, Brigitte laid back upon his chest; as he continued for fuck her at a domineering pace, his hand reached around to fondle her breast as his lips hovered next to her ear ... whispering.

"You're mine now. I've been waiting for a month for this moment, and you're unbelievably gorgeous. I'm going to use you all weekend long." As he finished his promise, his hands changed purpose--one slipped up to take Brigitte throat, the other reached between her legs and (after coating his fingers in her dripping wet folds) adored her clit with his dexterity. As Sterling gripped Brigitte's jaw, he turned her face to his, kissing her lips over her shoulder.

"First rule ... always ask permission to cum. Let's practice, shall we?" he said with a wicked smile. The sound of the loaned submissive's sloppy sex echoing about the room as he curled his abdomen to pierce her over and over again.

 

[LeaT]

Brigitte herself was blissfully unaware of the problems of Dommes and Doms unless they were outwardly expressed. If she were to bother herself with such things, it would be easy to imagine how fine a line the man inside of her was walking at this moment. He was neither Master nor Mistress, Regent was the title Mistress had chosen for the status he would have in her world, wielding the authority of her Mistress and thus deserving of Brigitte's every devotion and effort. The Chaton of her Mistress was now something of a new creature, something more of Sterling's desire and direction. She had no idea if this man was doing as her Mistress bid but could only trust that he would stay true to her Mistress' desires for them both.

Mistress' departure affected not only her Chaton but the unmistakable acceleration of the Regent's thrusts was clearly not coincidental. The normally poised Brigitte was taken by surprise by the intensity of the man pumping up and into her, making it clear that his inferior position beneath her was by no means a limit upon his prowess. She moaned audibly at the change her hands reaching out to the arms of the chair. It was as if she were clinging for something steady as her world was inverted and shaken like a snow globe. The small bits of her well ordered world swirling about her in a chaotic fashion just as her perfectly formed breasts jiggled chaotically to the forceful beat of the Regent's drum. Mistress had a wondrous selection of sex toys of various shapes and sizes, but none left her with the sensation of a living thing so deep inside of her.

Her hands had barely felt the sturdiness of the fine furniture as the Regent seized her wrists and pulled them behind her. She did not resist, willingly let him pose her as he desired and she was quietly grateful for the gesture. Clearly this man, her Mistress' Regent, understood her even if he didn't yet know her. It was his confidence that she needed so desperately, confidence for both of them. Feeling the unbreakable strength of her steel chain wrapping about her wrists further solidified the sensation that at least someone in this room was fully in control and Brigitte was not being left to the vagaries of chance.

The submissive was primed for the sudden change of position, her trust in the Regent growing as he shifted his body posture beneath her. She lay back against him, feeling his hand claim her breasts just before his whispered voice would claim all of her. His words delivered in such a way made no room for them to be refuted and any acknowledgement from her to the state of affairs would be wholly superfluous.

The deal on Sterling's part was sealed with a kiss, all as he choked and pleasured his new pet in purely dominant fashion. Only cumming with permission was part and parcel of Brigitte's world. But it was by no means a typical orgasm barreling towards her like a runaway freight train. Something about that living cock inside of her, both unpredictable and potent, rocked her confidence in being able to control her own response to it.

She was taking no chances and whatever bargaining or bartering was to be made for permission, she knew there was no time to spare. "Please Regent, may I cum." She said, her usual grace and aloofness directed towards anyone that was not her Mistress was no where to be heard. She was clearly desperate and an experienced Dom would likely understand that with or without permission, she was not going to be able to help but cum and powerfully.

 

[Rex.]

Hearing Brigitte's plea for release held more than a mere request to the dominant's ears. The detached demeanor she exuded while in the presence of her Mistress had ebbed to a trickle, and her words and actions betrayed a shift in her yearning for desire that Sterling did not expect--and although unanticipated, the energy Brigitte freely enacted in salacious offering was most welcomed. Laying with her back upon Sterling's muscled chest and abdomen, she seemed to writhe like a bitch in heat rather than the passive, sex-toy whose leash Mistress Minny handed over. Granting that Brigitte's Domme had warmed Brigitte up, Sterling held a thrill knowing that his actions had brought this loaned French woman to the point of orgasm so quickly.

Pleasuring a beautiful woman generated a lustful pride in men who sought sexual conquest. And though he had given up his days of trite philandering long ago, that lingering vestige remained: nothing stoked the ego like making a gorgeous woman erupt in rapturous orgasm. Unbeknownst to her, Brigitte held an esteem for Sterling--she was the most beautiful women he'd ever encountered. The discipline required to tamped down the pride that threatened to surge and consume the man's ego was immense, but he focused and continued urging the woman toward the brink as he prepared to allow her life's greatest pleasure.

Both supine, Sterling rode Brigitte from below while rubbing the submissive's drenched pussy and clit with inhuman focus and attention to her pleasure. Sterling's prowess could easily have been misconstrued as secondary to the women he fucked; yet his efforts were not sublimated but motivating and galvanizing--he became the undercurrent that fueled her meteoric rise to sexual heights as well as the technician who summoned her ultimate pleasure with tactics honed over years of domination. He observed her with penetrating eyes of terrible light-brown; his right hand quickly having become a fluid mess, his left hand ceased fondling Brigitte's tit and slid up her chest to roughly surround the French woman's pretty throat. Sterling always held women at the upper portion of their necks, as it served to direct their face as he willed. Brigitte learned the utility of his technique as her face was twisted to his waiting kiss.

Although her question lingered in the air filled with the sounds of sloppy fornication, the question was not whether Brigitte would orgasm--that much was certain. Sterling concealed a personal agenda well within the scope and purview of his authority delegated by the submissive's owner: he wanted nothing less than to break Brigitte with desire. Even if the result of his carnal work amounted to a minor fracturing of her willpower, Sterling aimed to give her something that she'd never experience before ... something she would never forget. Her memories and sexual life with her Mistress could never be forgotten, but Sterling felt a compelling need to prove himself and cleave their erotic souls in sympathetic union--not in place of Mistress Minny, but alongside in conjoined parallel yearning of mutual lust.

Their tongues wrestled with passion before the kiss broke. Foreheads touched and eyes stared an inch apart as Sterling spoke the words Brigitte begged with the tone she used. "Spread your legs ... wide ...," he commanded, panting from the exertion of curling himself up inside of her repeatedly. "You're my gorgeous slut ... I need you to cum on my cock ... do it ... cum NOW!" he told her in no uncertain terms.

Brigitte's body could flail all it wanted, her pussy would run or squirt her liquid desire freely; Sterling controlled her torso and face. Sterling stared into his new submissive's eyes like the proverbial windows into her soul, breathless at what her dark pools would exhibit as she was made to cum like the whore she was made to be.

 

[LeaT]

Brigitte was desperate in those brief moments between her desperate plea to cum and Regents demand that she do so. It was probably only the span of a dozen heart beats, but each throb of his hard cock inside of her reverberated with a sensation she hadn't felt in years. She would have denied with all sincerity that there was anything missing in her life with Mistress. But that living pulse of him so deep inside of her made it impossible to deny, however, that this was something she hadn't realized she had missed. She would not claim to have been denied in any fashion, but god it was an undeniable reminder that this was indeed a man inside of her.

Of course Mistress had not found just any man to lend her prized Chaton to for even a day let alone this months long engagement. The man chosen to be Regent over Brigitte was an experienced lover who knew how to please a woman. This much was obvious to Brigitte even now. Mistress may well have warmed up her Chaton with her own exceptional talents, but it was Sterling's cock and talented fingers she would remember bringing her over the edge into bliss this day.

The genesis of this coupling may have been business negotiations, in some ways making Brigitte little more than a high class prostitute in the eyes of some, but that would ignore the devotion between the two women that went well beyond business. The Regent may never reach that level of connection with her, but she would deny him nothing in the name of her Mistress. She would also treat him with a level of devotion that could not be bought with cash alone.

Brigitte was not unfamiliar with the egos of men when it came to pleasuring women. Though she often suspected men of equating pleasuring with conquering when their egos were involved. While she would not fake an orgasm for the Regent, or any man, neither would she attempt to hide the pleasure honestly given by him. She was under no instruction from or obligation to Mistress to deny her own pleasure and her response would be true and genuine.

Their relative positions, both supine with her on top, spoke highly of Regents physical prowess and stamina. Brigitte could not recall ever being driven to climax in such a fashion. The way his technique lifted her as much as conquered her was as unique as it was precious. Her body quivered and her mind could only focus on her need to not climax until he finally uttered his ascent. She had been well trained in climaxing only with permission, a standing rule in Mistress' boudoir but she was quickly being driven to the point beyond control.

He turned her head for a kiss, one last delightful hurdle for her to clear, or so she hoped, before he would give her the consent she so desperately needed. One might not think she could spread her legs wider, but she complied in a show of flexibility that might make an Olympic gymnast jealous. As their kiss broke the demand was finally articulated.

In this case, she was able to comply with the immediacy his words and tone demanded. Her body reacted to sit bolt upright, but he held her face and torso in place as she strained against him, clearly in control of her posture as well as her pleasure. Her core muscles clenched his cock as if wanting to milk him of the seed she wasn't even sure he was allowed to fill her with. But such considerations were not her concern. "Oh...oh....mmmm...uugghhhnnnn" her usually precise and articulate phrasing turned to feral gibberish as she came atop him and around his cock. "oh ouiiiiiii mon Régent oh ouiiiiii" She cried out just before relaxing atop of him, her pussy still quivering but her body spent.

 

[Rex.]

Vision. Sherlock Holmes once noted to his hapless assistant, Dr. Watson, that he saw but did not "observe." Sterling believed in an evolved corollary: one can observe but not apprehend.

Far from mere synonyms, the difference between the two terms was vast -- to 'apprehend' touched upon the experiential realms of phenomenology; the "real" amounted to that which generated emotion and gave life. There were only two "real" things in that hotel room that mattered to the dominant: Brigitte and her living, thriving orgasmic identity. They were not the same, though one might have mistaken them as one being -- the writhing French whore permeated by the torrent of her intangible yet all-consuming pleasure. Her voice and tone, the cries in her native tongue the betrayed the absolute explosion of primal bliss. What Sterling apprehended led him to take only partial satisfaction in the way Brigitte's cunt clenched around his throbbing, sluicing cock.

Other dominants might have sufficed for a single moment of feminine ecstasy, an excuse to self-indulge and disregard the new submissive's continued arousal in favor of conquering sex. Symbols held meaning only so far as that meaning proving useful to Sterling. He already possessed Brigitte, her use as his fuck-toy was assured. But, he wanted more -- much more.

When Brigitte came, Sterling savored the feel of her body tensing and squirming above his own. Gripping the tip of the woman's hand-sized tit and wriggling his fingers upon her clit, Sterling worked to summon as many orgasms from the French woman as humanly possible. He loved her breath, the scent of her hair and pussy that filled their part of the room: the magnificence of her erotic perfume. Sterling could have filled up his new, loaned property ... but he chose to wait and enjoy the fruit of his conditional labor.

When the woman had been reduced to her depleted state, Sterling inched himself in and out of Brigitte's sex for several minutes ... then removing it entirely. Still erect, his cock made a soft "pop" sound upon exiting and stood at attention against his lover's open slit. Both of Sterling's hands slid down the top of Brigitte's front, feeling the inside of her stocking legs before delving into her ripe and used pussy. He doused his fingers thoroughly, with wanton purpose; when his fingers left her sex -- dripping with her cunt honey -- Sterling brought them to both of their mouths. "Clean my fingers of your arousal," Sterling whispered, doing the same as he acquainted himself with the taste of the new epicenter in his life. "So fucking delicious ..." he whispered vehemently.

Their lips melded several times, the taste of her pussy the entree that tempted their taste-buds. The goûter of his new lover seeping into him as he stared into her amazing eyes set the man afire. Planting a hand beside him, Sterling pushed himself up, the articulation of his abdominal musculature felt by Brigitte's lower back. Sitting up, Brigitte was made to bent up with him, and he knew she might wonder what would come next: bed, floor, the couch, some enticing punishment. Luckily for the goddess of a woman, Sterling was an ambitious, multi-tasker. He stood up, sliding the lithe brunette up onto her heeled feet. The wobble of her gait would be secured the the firm grasp Sterling still commanded with the chain from her collar still in his guiding hand. He french kissed his lover, beyond enrapt.

"God, you're perfect," he breathed. Their noses touched and a wry smile formed on his face. "Your new name ... My Parfaite: my perfection."

No moniker could have been more apt or well-deserved, and Sterling walked toward the tall mirror hanging on the wall by the bureau of toys. The agenda for that weekend had been a topic of both fantasy and rigorous thought, with Sterling finally settling on what seemed like the most sensible option. That night would consist of Sterling having his way with his new submissive until he expelled himself, with the following day being spend getting to know Brigitte better before that evening's entertainment: dinner out on the town and returning to the hotel room for an intense BDSM session. The thought of testing Brigitte's limits filled Sterling with a true and stunning anticipation, and he opted to give the French woman -- his Parfaite -- a preview of what was to come.

Reaching for a leather glove, he pulled one on his right hand. Sterling bent Brigitte forward slightly: her breasts handing and her bob-haircut inching to frame her face. Possessed in the moment, Sterling swept his flat hand out swiftly to exact repeated, punitive flashes on Brigitte's taut rear end. The contact didn't settle or was not permitted to be registered by the submissive slut before a barrage of medium strength blows quickly rendered Brigitte's ass cheeks bright pink. The leather glove made the contact feel harsher thanks to the friction between the leather and skin. All while Brigitte's hands remained cuffed behind her back, her chain still in the dominant's non-swatting hand.

Sterling's foot knocked the insides of Brigitte's heeled feet to force her to spread without saying a word. The man slipped himself back into his new home, and began utterly enjoying himself with warning or preamble. He grunted regularly, as if some dessert within the submissive's core sated a thrill he never knew existed yet could no longer live without. "Fuck ..." he muttered, clearly aroused. "How do you feel so fucking good, Parfaite?" he asked, rhetorically. Control of the leash end switched, and as the chain tugged Brigitte's body back into Sterling's pillaging thrusts, his gloved hand took a stock of her short-cut dark hair and craned her head to one side. The forced tilt of her head opened a space over her shoulder, and Brigitte could see Sterling's predatory gaze over her shoulder as he thoroughly owned her pussy from behind.