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The Domme Society {Torridsoul x Alan23}

There was, indeed, something else that Damon could do with his mouth. Something at which he was particularly skilled. He began by lightly licking her around the rim of her sex, noting with satisfaction that the initial wetness he had first felt had increased substantially. The merest tip of his tongue teased and circumvented, noting that her lips were already becoming redder from desire. He detected a slight tremor from her body, as if she were nervous. It was obvious, to someone as experienced as himself, that cunnilingus was not a regular part of his mistress' sexual diet. She was pushing down on the top of his head, forcing it there with every ounce of her limited strength, and he responded, increasing the pace of his movements, stretching his strong tongue, exploring the wetness and warmth within her. His hands clutched the backs of her thighs, holding her steady, gaining maximum purchase as he thrust his long tongue into her, concentrating on her clit, yet taking in all of the inside of her vagina, so that none of it was neglected. The strokes of his tongue became harder, stronger, a flicking movement, honing in on the center of pleasure, stepping up the pace and power, sensing the lines of lustful joy that radiated from it, like tendrils snaking up along her body to her brain.

The taste of her was exquisite - the clean, salty flavor of a woman just showered, and one who had gone without attention for far too long. He began a hard, sucking motion, drawing her clit towards him, snaking his tongue around the back of it, coating it with sensual wetness. Her slight nervousness was subsiding, replaced by a trusting relaxation alight with lust. He increased his pressure still further, his talented tongue a loving weapon, the invasion of her private cave complete, his tongue roaming as it liked, dominating her, his Domme, yet with a loving submission that fused the twin natures of his action. For he was submitting, by this act, yet controlling her, controlling her pleasure, taking her where she longed to go, but at the pace he chose.

He heard her whimper, as he increased the power still further. They were one body, now, locked at the mouth and cunt, her whole vagina dancing in a spasm of electric lust, the wave of her release already beginning to rise, as he forced her thighs upwards, giving his tongue even more power, and increasing speed too, knowing that now she could not stop, whatever her wishes. It was a gift, an important gift, for she was entirely in his power, but he chose not to force the issue, allowing himself to be dictated to at her pleasure. He felt her body stiffen...
 
As soon as his mouth was on her Ivy felt as if her knees would buckle, as it stood they felt like jello. Her hands reached back and gripped the couch, keeping herself steady as moans of pleasure fell from her slightly parted lips. She never knew it could feel like this before. Ivy hadn't had very many men between her legs and the few she had, never did anything that felt this good to her before. Her fingers fisted in his hair, tugging him closer to her body. She knew that she never would have been able to do any of this if it hadn't been for him talking about how brave and courageous she was. If he thought that then maybe she could be... maybe she had it in her.

Her hips moved gently against him, he was so very skilled and his actions served not only to get her juices flowing, but they got her heart beating rapidly and her legs shaking with need. This amazing man had chosen her as his Mistress.

Slowly thanks to his clever tongue her orgasm was building between her legs, the ache was both burning and delightful "Oh god Damon" she whimpered the words and as her body stiffened her orgasm crashed through her body. If it was even possible Ivy felt as though she were drowning in pleasure, her inner walls were clenching and her hips jerked softly.

As her orgasm subsided she slid to her knees in front of him, her arms wrapping about her shoulders and she lowered her mouth to his, kissing him softly so that she could taste herself on his lips.
 
Damon returned her kiss, lovingly, yet with just enough power to leave her in no doubt he could overwhelm her, should he choose. His tongue now explored a new cavity, as sweet and piquant as the last. He ran the back of his hand over her face, flicking drips of sweat away, and straightening her now sodden hair. The expression in her beautiful eyes left him in no doubt that her fragile confidence had been boosted by his attitude and his actions. With his free hand, he guided her hand downwards, along his chest, and inwards, until it touched his own erect member, throbbing and massive, so that she could feel the effect she had upon him even through the material of his pants.

There was another stage now, in his duty. He sensed, with the perception borne of long and frequent erotic experience, that Ivy was not experienced at the sexual arts. Given her shyness and lack of self-confidence, it was necessary for her to know he enjoyed her as much as she did him. And, given her personality, it was almost a given that she'd be anxious about her own performance. He'd already made up his mind that whatever happened next, he'd put the word around the other submissive that his mistress was red hot - his job was to build her reputation. If it turned out that he didn't have to lie, so much the better.

He guided her fingers around his penis. "See, Mistress. See what your beauty does to me," he said, smiling. "This is what it was like the first time I saw you - even before I fell in love with you. The time you wore that green suit, to the inspection of new slaves." This was not, strictly speaking, true either. The first time he'd seen her had been a few days before - when she'd had to sprint from the club's picnic, for a nearby hedge, and emerged with a slight dampness on the crotch of her shorts, indicating that she'd only just made it. But it was no part of his duty to remind her of that! Hopefully, she'd forgotten he had been there at the time - after all, his face was just one among many.

"You know, Mistress," he said "Up there - you are so smooth. You taste like honey!"
 
Tasting herself on his lips made her feel deliciously naughty, she kept telling herself that she could do this. She wasn't weak, she was strong. He boosted her confidence in ways she'd never imagined. He made her feel like she could do anything, and when he guided her hands to his hard length, she felt her knees go weak. Her breath caught in her throat and she wrapped her fingers around him, loosely, shyly. Ivy could not believe that she'd done this to him, that she'd turned him on this much. A shiver of delight ran up her spine. Oh my... Oh my... Oh my.... it was all she could think.

"I can't believe I did this" she whispered softly, her hand followed his guidance for a moment and then she shook his hand off of hers she wanted show him the same pleasure that he'd shown her. Granted in her limited sexual experience she'd never given a blow job, let alone a hand job... but secretly she'd watched porn, and read books her favorite book was called The Little bit naughty book of blow jobs she knew that she could do this, but mainly she knew she could do it because Damon was there, and Damon thought she was beautiful.

Slowly she moved to her knees, her fingers gripping his hips gently for a moment before she moved them forward to pop the button on his pants and ease the zipper down, then she slowly tugged his pants down taking his undergarments with them... when his cock sprung free of his pants she gasped softly and then looked up at him nervously. Her fingers slid up his thighs slowly and wrapped around him.
 
"Mistress, you..." Damon swallowed his words. One thing he'd been taught, when he joined the club, in his induction... the Mistress was to be satisfied. It wasn't her job to satisfy the slave. "Mistresses do not suck off their slaves," were the exact words that had been used. "Don't ask!" Well, that bit was wrong, he now saw.

He saw her eyes looking up at him. Nervously, shyly. Rather than the "You are mine, in my power" look he'd been led to expect, it was instead almost a gaze of pleading. Make me believe I am doing this right, her imploring look seemed to say. make me feel like a dominant, in-control woman - even if you have to pretend. Please!

He smiled at her, reassuringly. She was turning him on in a different way than he had ever been turned on before. He'd been with highly dominant women, highly submissive women, all points in between. But this was the first time he had been with a woman who desperately wanted to be dominant, as if her life depended on it, and couldn't quite get there. That had to beg to be able to dominate - an irony that was far more sexually arousing than anything he had ever experienced. He at once wanted to fuck her until she was sore, yet take her tenderly like a sister and kiss away her fears.

He forced her head downwards... and allowed his dick to flip, by momentarily relaxing the blood and then letting it flow again, causing the organ to move, as if he were waving it before her. He teased her lips, as if they were her cunt, rimming gently around them, letting her take her time...
 
A Mistress could do whatever she wanted couldn't she? Even if that something was sucking off her submissive, she could do whatever she wanted. And what Ivy wanted right now was to take his cock into her mouth, and she was going to do it. She didn't think that she was wrong in this belief. For a moment she second guessed herself, maybe he didn't want her this way. The thought bothered her but she shoved it aside she was going to do it, because she wanted too and if he liked it then that was just a plus.

A soft groan escaped her lips when his hands came down to her head and pushed her downwards, he moved himself over her lips in the most delicious way, and she regained a bit of her false confidence. Opening her lips she flicked her tongue out over the head of his cock, remembering from the book that guys thought it felt good if she'd swirl her tongue around the head, and the hole so she used her book knowledge and dragged the tip of her tongue around the head of his cock slowly, flicking once and awhile to change the sensation.

Once she got started she became bolder, her fingers moving to cup his balls gently and squeeze. She's read that they're sensitive and she wants to impart every type of pleasure she can.
 
Damon felt a shiver of current pulse through his body at her actions. Straight away, he dismissed the thought of what Dommes were, or were not supposed to do. She was his Mistress - she could do whatever she damn well liked! And Ivy, he knew, was a Dominant still in the process of finding herself. He'd been given head by lots of women, shy and confident ones, and this was - it was different. It was obvious she was doing this for the first time, as if she knew the theory, yet didn't quite comprehend what an amazing effect her actions had on a man. She was cupping his balls now, as if the whole object of the exercise was to give him pleasure, as if he were the master, and she the slave. Somehow, this reserve and need made her a hundred, a thousand times more sexy than any other women he had ever been with.

Her shy fellatio was making him love her.

He caressed her hair, bucking under her ministrations, forming a feedback loop of lust that caused her to exert to still greater heights. Soon, she'd forgotten to intellectualize the process, was sucking and tongue-stroking with every evidence of abandoned enjoyment, their power-differential forgotten and abandoned in favor of a mutual satisfaction.

Duty struggled with selfishness, and it was only his newly forming love for her that enabled him to win out. Finally, when he was a hairsbreadth from the brink, he pulled her gently away from him by her hair, lying down, and then pulled her so that she was straddling him, locking his lips with hers, the four flavors, of their salive and their sex-juices mingled in a cocktail of delight.

"We're a one-shot, us guys, beautiful mistress," he smiled. "What's in me is yours..."

He manouvred her above him, kneading and stroking her breasts, and fixed her legs so that she straddled him, and then lowered her gently, feeling his penis slide into her wet vagina.
 
There was something about pleasuring Damon that thrilled Ivy to the core, his cock grew harder in her mouth at what she was doing, her actions were turning this man on. This strong, beautiful, caring man and she was pleasing him. A shiver skittered down her spine and she continued to use the skills she'd only seen in a book on him to pull those delicious moan from his lips.

When he caressed her hair and began to buck she moaned gently around him, all thoughts left her mind and she'd focused solely on pleasuring him. Making sure that he felt the same exquisite pleasure that she had when he'd between her legs. For the first time in her life she was doing something with abandon and she was loving every moment of it, and whats more she could tell that he was loving every moment of it as well.

Ivy whimpered as he pulled her away from him and for a moment she was afraid that she'd done something wrong, something that hadn't pleased him. But then he'd shifted so that he was lying down and she was on top of him, with her delicate thighs straddling his strong body... something surged through her, and suddenly she wasn't afraid. There was no seconding guessing herself, when he lowered her onto his body her hands went to his cupping them gently as she began to move without guidance. Slowly working herself up and down on his hard thick cock.

"Oh yesss" she hissed softly, her hips bucking against his gently before she rose up on him again and then seated herself completely once again. He felt so good, could she Dominate this man? She didn't know but with him she had a budding confidence that made her feel as if she could do anything.
 
Damon could feel the breath knocked from his body as she pounded up and down on top of him. The tightness and wetness of Ivy's sex, the smoothness of the inside of her vaginal walls, even the feel of the rug underneath his spine made up a cocktail of sensations that were sending his desire rising to boiling point. He sneaked a look at her eyes - there was still fear in them, but it was a different kind. Somehow, there was a confidence there too, an obvious indication that she knew she was pleasing him, driving him as mad with pleasure as she was to her.

She must have known that no other Domme could do this to a slave!

No other Domme could mingle sexual abandon and yet shyness and modesty in quite this way. It was like a young virgin and a succubus somehow forced into the same body, and sharing a single mind. She was a frightened little girl and a demon, her face scarlet with blushing as if she were shocked at the implications of what she was doing, yet her eyes bright with lust, as if, at the same time, she knew exactly that this was right, this was wonderful, this was beautiful! He felt sweat drop from her onto his body, and so heightened were his senses that he could actually feel the impact, as if every nerve he possessed had somehow become supercharged.

He thrust her body up and down, letting her think she was doing the work, proud to expend his strength in her service, forcing her to dominate.

"You are the best, Mistress," he whispered, smiling. "You are the sex goddess. No other Domme can do what you can do!"
 
Leaning forward and pressing her hands against his chest, their bodies glistened with slippery sweat and even that was a turn on to her, her nails dug into his chest gently as her hips worked against him. She didn't ever want this moment to end but her body had other ideas and her legs began to shiver slightly, the shiver quickly turned into a shake and her thighs shook against his body.

She moved naturally sliding over him faster and harder meeting him thrust for thrust, she needed him to know that she could hold her own that she wasn't timid or afraid of everything. Her inner walls began to convulse around his hard thrusting member and her rapidly approaching orgasm crashed through her body, she stilled her hips humping against him. She tossed her head back and cries out her pleasure as she finds her release.

Slowly as she comes down she brings her eyes to his, her chest heaving as her heart beats rapidly. In that moment she felt like the sex goddess that he labeled her, she wanted to be a sex goddess for him.
 
Damon held his mistress tight, feeling her body shake and convulse, the jolt of orgasmic power shoot through her whole body as she bucked and climaxed. He smiled, delighting in her expression, licking at the sweat on her beautiful face, as it relaxed. he held her for a few moments more, looking expectantly at her, as if seeking something. He registered he smile, nothing more.

And then, after waiting a few moments, without ejaculating, he withdrew from her, looking slightly disappointed.

"Thank you, Mistress," he said, formally. He stood, standing with his hands behind his back, as she had previously instructed.

And then, he noticed she was looking at him, quizzically. A shock went through his mind. Hadn't she known?

"You... you didn't give your permission, Mistress," he explained. "I am yours, now. Yours to command. I may come when you say. Not before."
 
Ivy was basking in the afterglow of her orgasm until she felt Damon slip from inside of her. She'd practically fallen from his lap when he stood, she looked confused... befuddled... automatically her mind went to the negative, she'd done something wrong. The disappointed looked on his face was killing her.

"Damon... I... " she moved towards him slowly "I didn't know, I don't have any prior experience with this." her fingers stroked down his chest slowly and then an idea came to her.

"Stay like that... don't move your hands" after saying this she slid to her knees in front of him, her fingers wrapped around his cock and slowly stroked him. "You've permission to cum as you need" she said as she moved closer to him, wrapping her lips around his cock and sucking him gently as she stroked his shaft slowly.

Ivy needed him to cum, they couldn't end this first experience without him reaching release. Maybe that was too soft for someone who was supposed to be a Domme, but the last thing that Ivy was is selfish.
 
Damon was both confused and delighted by the way Ivy was playing it. He was more convinced than ever that there was more to his new mistress than the impression he'd picked up from the other slaves. Sure, she might not have been experienced enough to know the protocol - but she'd managed to deal with the situation without missing a beat, still maintaining her dominance, and yet giving him precisely what he needed. So what if she wasn't very good at standing up to other Dommes, if she wasn't sexually experienced, if she occasionally suffered other issues? There was a lot of hidden worth in her as a Domme - now he had to teach her to realize it as much as he did. But this duty was for the future. Right now...

Right now, he delighted in the wonderful feeling of her lips on his shaft. Her lips played a fandango on his cock, drawing him ever closer to the peak of absolute ecstasy. With her beauty, she didn't need technique - though even there, she was learning fast. The soft, rhythmic stroking of her hands, the enthusiastic sucking on his sex... he felt himself rising higher and higher... the slight flush that remained on her face, telling him she was still shy about doing this, the small beads of sweat on her otherwise flawless skin, the way her breasts moved as she gyrated her body in her sucking. A jolt of lustful power swept through him, radiating out form the helmet of his cock, sweeping through his body and mind, laying waste to his control.

He'd already been close to orgasm, and it would have been a fight to hold back, anyway. But she'd given him permission, had she not? He allowed the wave of his lust to rise, like a tsunami, sweeping all in its wake, and then... then the beautiful, loving, sexy wave crashed upon the shore of his psyche, he felt his body shudder, and he let go. This was no mere ejaculation - it was as if he'd been saving it up, storing it all his life for such as she. His whole body shook, catatonically, cataclysmically, and he bucked in delight, as an unrestrained "Aaaaaaagh" of joy made its way through his lips. He came.. . like a wave indeed, far more than one man should, it seemed gallons of it, and though Ivy frantically swallowed like a drowning woman, there was no way she could absorb it all. The cum shot out, splattering her beautiful face, dripping from her lips like blood form a benevolent vampress, cascading down her body, making rivulets down past he breasts, her stomach, even, he was sure, snaking its way towards her cunt.

It took him a while to come down from the mountain she'd enabled him to climb. It must have been a ful minute before he remembered his duty to her. Then, without words, he went into the kitchen and Ivy's bedroom, returning with a towel and a fresh robe. He stripped off the old robe, now cum-stained, toweled her down, lingering lovingly on her breasts and midriff, helped her on with the new - a lemon-silk creation, that clung to every one of her curves and showed all of her shapely legs, and picked her up, cradling her featherlight body in his powerful arms.

"You are wonderful, Mistress. I mean it - you're a sex-goddess." He carried her into the bedroom, where he set her down gently, then returned to the bathroom. He took the stained skirt and the still sodden panties she'd been wearing at the time of her "accident", and washed them carefully by hand, before tossing them into the dryer and setting the controls. Then he returned, smiling, and looked across at his mistress, now reclining on the bed.
 
Ivy gave it a valiant effort but she'd been unable to swallow all of his seed, there was just too much of it. It oozed out of her mouth, slid down her chin and covered her chest. She'd taken a shower but she was all dirty again, in the most delicious manner of course. She had been so unsure of herself when she'd knelt before him wondering if she could really make him cum, and oh my had she succeeded.

Given her inexperience with being a Domme, she had no idea that it was his duty to clean her off once he'd made a mess of her. Though, she was pretty sure that she was supposed to make a mess of him, and not the other way around. She didn't care it had been a most delightful experience. As was having him towel her off and slip her into her silkiest, sexiest robe. Being cared to her room was a new experience for her as well, Damon was strong, sexy and more than understanding and he'd chosen her.

She didn't know if she really was wonderful or a sex-goddess but all that mattered to her was that Damon thought it was so. As she reclined she rested her head against the plush headboard and let her eyes drift closed, she didn't know if she would truly make a good Mistress but she was going to give it her all, her everything.

Their first week together seemed to fly by in the blink of an eye. She still didn't have the nerve to move into the playroom but she was working up to it, and admittedly she was curious now. Wanting to see what type of toys and such it had been stocked with. Ivy hadn't asked Damon if he'd gone in there, but for some reason she was sure that he had. He seemed so content in this type of lifestyle but she couldn't help but think he was on the wrong side of it.

There was a meeting tonight and even though it was not mandatory like the Auctions were she was pretty sure that she had to show up, and with Damon acting every bit the slave or she'd look like a fool. Luckily for her Damon always had his Mistress' best interests first and foremost in his mind and she knew that he'd never do anything to humiliate her. Knowing this made getting ready for the evening that much easier.

Tonight she'd decided on a pair of leather pants that hugged her ass even tighter than the skirt she wore last time did and a pair of knee high boots with a 4 inch heel, she paired these with deep purple satin corset with leather trim that had what seemed like a million hooks down the back.

"Damon" she called "come in here and help me with this." she said as she brought her fingers to her hair, braiding it so that the braid would hang over her right shoulder and then tying it off with a rubber band.
 
Damon took his time fastening the many hooks that closed the corset. Helping his mistress dress had, so far, been one of the delights of his new life as Ivy's slave. Sometimes, it consisted of merely helping her with the sticking rear zip of her dress, another time he had had to tuck in her shirt when she had left part of the tail hanging out in back. He never let her leave the house for her place of business without checking her, head to foot, to make sure she was absolutely perfect. He noticed that when he checked her, or helped her with her dressing, there was always a slight flush on her face, as if she were embarrassed at needing help when most women could dress themselves, or perhaps even the very intimacy of the act was causing her to blush!

He completed fastening the last hook, tugged the hem of the corset down, and hitched her pants a little higher, so that only a sexy, rather than ridiculous, amount of butt-crack was on show. This was partly out of duty - he wanted her to look her very best when other Dommes were present - but also partly for his own benefit. In the last week, he'd become even more attached to her, in an erotic sense as well as others, and walking the regulation two paces behind her, being forced to look at her glorious rear end, sometimes caused problems for his self-control!

"You look totally perfect, Mistress," he said, smiling. "Beautiful.

* * * * * *

Damon parked the car in the underground spot under the headquarters of the society, and opened the door for Ivy to emerge. He then fixed the corset and pants again, and straightened her hair where a stray lock was threatening to mar the careful arrangement of her tresses. Pronouncing himself satisfied, he fell in the regulation two paces behind and followed ehr to the elevator. He was gratified to see that she walked with a new confidence, a swing in her step. His massaging of her ego was beginning to bear fruit. However, when they left the escalator, and walked along the labyringth corridors to where the actual meeting was to be held, and she'd encounter the other Dommes, he noticed that this confidence seemed to decrease... the sashay went out of it, to be replaced, little-by-little, by a sort of apologetic slouch, and its pace slowed perceptibly, like that of a constantly bullied girl reporting to school - which, he guessed, was appropriate enough, given the way some of the other Domems treated her. He remembered, too, that it was when she became nercous and apprehensive that her "little ptoblem" as he was wont to call it to himself became an issue. Sure enough, even looking behind, he could se her squirming slightly as she walked, and from what he could read her face bore a nervous expression.

He steeled himself - if there was any trouble from the bully-club tonight, he was on her side.
 
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