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Xatasha
Meteorite
- Joined
- Dec 1, 2016
The whole concept of dating horrified me. You would think by my late twenties something would have caught on, but the truth was, I never really did the whole dating thing. I just went from one committed relationship to the next. But here I was, single, lonely, and willing to do almost anything just for a goddamn hug that didn't come with a spanking. I stared at the pathetic visage looking back at me in the bathroom mirror. Unkempt short, black hair. Pale blue eyes. Pretty well a stick figure with no cleavage to speak of. And the worst complexion known to man. I felt disgusting, so I slathered on a metric ton of foundation and far too much eyeliner. I looked better. Might as well throw on some mascara and sparkly black lip stick while I'm at it. Clubs are as clubs do, after all.
Really, I have no idea why I'm in such a foul mood. I may hate dating, but I was really excited to see her in person for the first time. Most people my age are pretty chill about dating sites, but I guess I'm more antiquated, and still felt it was rather desperate. Still, I was happy I did it, and kept up with it, even when it seemed pointless and horrible. For once I was actually excited about another person. That giddy, charged, bite-your-lip sort of anticipation that makes you want to snatch your favourite vibrator for... geezus I really am desperate. I changed my underwear, and picked out an outfit. My poor garter belt was collecting dust... in a fucking drawer, and that new toy I got last year hasn't even seen the light of day. I thought about putting the garters on out of some weird sense of obligation, but then I thought about having to deal with them at a club all night and just... no. The latex skirt was going to be bad enough, but hell, I wanted to look good. For once. On its own, latex is a pain in the ass, but did it ever feel amazing. The tightness and feel of it, as if it were merging with your skin. It was like your own body was in bondage to itself.
It took longer than I had hoped, but no longer than usual, to wriggle the damn skirt on. I was grateful this was happening in the spring. I first messaged her back in December, but she was on a break at the time and didn't get back to me until months later. Although I suppose I could have worn something else, otherwise. Still, this was brand new and I was excited to wear it for the first time. It was sort of a pencil style that flared out half way, ending just above the knee. Think of a betty style, but sluttier. Normally I don't wear such girly things, but this style of skirt accentuated my narrow hips and made me feel more feminine. What? Dykes like to feel girly, too, sometimes! Anyway, with it I had a long sleeved, red latex blouse, and a black latex, under bust corset. Dressing in latex is about the biggest ordeal ever, but again, so fucking worth it.... Oh shit! I just realized... I'm going to have to take the bus downtown. I guess I'll wear just my trenchcoat and be cold.
I gave myself a once over in the mirror, adjusting and fidgeting as I do, then strapped on my thigh-highs with the 4 inch stiletto heals, covered up in my suspiciously long coat, and was out the door at 8. A little early for a club, I know, but I wanted to be there first. Everyone always yammers about being “fashionably late.” I like to give them the proverbial middle finger by always being ridiculously early. I wasn't meeting my date until 10, and downtown was only about 30 minutes by bus. Which did mean I got there a half hour before the event even started, but a friend is a VIP in the local scene and always gets me in places like this. I made a deal with him to set up something special. I won't tell you what I gave him in return. Shut up, don't judge me!
I was grateful for leaving when I did, because as usual, I fucked up the transit schedule. I'm just so used to driving, so I have this thing where I don't plan my trip. At all... ever.... Anyway, I was 15 minutes later than I was supposed to be, and by the time I got there I was cold as hell. Apparently it gets colder after the sun goes down. Who knew? Also, there was already a line. Don't these people have lives? I guess I stood there for about 5 minutes before I remembered my VIP pass. Oh well, at least I looked good while I was standing there being an idiot. The bouncer let me in, but not without a weird, judgmental smirk, and I scouted out the play room, then the dance floor. The bar wasn't serving yet, obviously, but I was severely disappointed. I could really use a confidence booster. I was getting super nervous. And when I get super nervous, I get super spacey, and not in the good way. I slumped into the lounge chair and took a deep breath. The dungeon sucked. Did it always suck? It had been years since I was last here, but I remember it being a lot better. So much for first impressions.
This friend I spoke of, he was going to do a scene with me to show off, sort of as a “This is what it's all about,” thing. He's a great top, a lot of fun to play with, but seeing the equipment I was getting uneasy. Where the hell was he anyway? I pulled my phone out of my boot; no messages. I texted him.
da' fuck are u? party's almost over!
It wasn't even 9 yet. Only a couple other VIPs were here, setting up to be the first shows of the night. Not that anyone would really be watching yet, but it goes a long way to setting the mood for a BDSM club. Things get really lame, really fast when people show up for a dungeon and everybody is just dancing. I hate dancing....I did start to wonder, though, was this really an appropriate first date? I mean, for me it was totally normal. I've done things with people I'd only known for a few hours that most people wouldn't do with someone they've known a life time.
I was the girl who walked into a play party and would head straight to the red room and set an open door policy.
If someone was looking for someone to do edge play, I was the first one with their hand up.
Primal rope scene in the middle of a public rigging room? I'm already naked.
Asphyxiation? Fuck yeah!
Knife play? Double fuck yeah!
Violet wands? Drool!
But her? She probably couldn't tell the difference between jute and hemp rope, and I know she's never even held a flogger in her life. Not that any of that was particularly relevant, since play was out of the question. Sure we'd discussed likes, limits, and fuck-yeahs, but no formal negotiations, and her having no experience what-so-ever... Well, let's just say Kyle had no idea why I was so excited to meet with her in the first place, but then he never read our private messages. Oh, Kyle? Yeah, he's the one that set this all up for me. On the other hand, I did give her lots of stuff to read, and she did say she was looking forward to watching. Still, I suddenly found the excitement of it all fading into worrying about exposing her to too much, too fast. I thought a fetish club would be best because the play was always quite tame, and there was plenty of other things going on, as well. But how well did I know her... really?
“Sup douche face?” The tall, blonde, and muscular stereotype of a European man dropped in the seat next to me.
“Kyle! You fucking homo! You were supposed to be here before me!” Kyle and I had this thing where we called each really horrible, offensive things and tried really hard not to laugh about it. Also since we were both gay, we called each other horrible homophobic shit, too. Something about taking power away from actual homophobes. I don't know, I just thought it was hilarious.
“Calm your tits, bitch. It's not my problem you have to be early all the time. Here,” he passed me the drink he was holding.
I downed it and passed it back, “Get me another fagg't.”
“Holy fuck, that was a double. And drunk Alex is not as hilarious as you think. Not to mention our scene....”
Oh yeah, that's me, by the way. Tall, thin, and I have a boys name with voice to match. Not Alexis. Not Alexandra. Just Alex is all my birth certificate says, and you know what? I'm perfectly okay with that. Someone tried calling me Lexie once. I swear to god I was about to cut them. Oh, I also have a temper.
“Go fuck yourself you fucking queer.” And a mouth that would offend a truck driver.
“Whatever. Cunt,” he snarked, getting up out of the chair.
Before leaving, for what I hope was to get me another drink, he finished, “Oh, and our scene is set for tonight. No blood, because duh, so I won't use my cat, but I did bring an especially sting-y flogger that will leave plenty of marks for you to show off.” I pouted and stuck my tongue out at him, but then smiled and mouthed Thank you when he glanced back. I was grateful, but also disappointed. That cat was far worse than any flogger, it bit hard as hell, but goddamn that after taste. It made my mouth, and other things, 'water.'
People started to slowly pour in. By 9:30 the place was pretty packed. I kept my eye fixed nervously on the entrance. It was narrow, so only one or two people could flow in at a time. That said, I was still worried I wouldn't recognize her, but holy shit was I wrong. Riley, my date, walked in and just stole the spot light. Even the DJ turned to look. She was stunning. Her black hair flowed all the way down to the small of her back. She was wearing a leather, corsetted, black and red dress – the thing must have cost a fortune. Her matching, black leather boots with four inch platform heels were just as impressive, especially on those legs that went on for days. I couldn't stop staring. She seemed a little discomposed when I told her the club had a strict fetish code. Did she get this just for tonight? Just... for me? Or did she have it already, sitting in some dark corner of her closet, waiting silently for the right moment, the right person?
She caught me staring at her pretty quickly, and after finishing with coat check, she came over to me. I guess I stood out, too. Riley seemed to dance, or float, or something, when she moved. Maybe it was the booze. I didn't care. All I could think about was her on top of me, doing... things.... Oh for fuck's sake, again? I should just start carrying underwear everywhere I go. This shit is ridiculous. I am so done with this dry spell, and so getting laid tonight. First date rule be damned, because on top of all my other failings, I'm also the queen of bad decisions.
I stood to greet her, but words failed me, so I just stood there agape like the usual idiot I am. She just smiled and gave me a peck on the cheek. It tingled in so many pleasant ways. It was during the hug that I noticed it, though, around her waist. Was that a riding crop? The dress was adorned with a wide, studded belt, and in it was definitely a crop tucked in tightly. It wasn't one of those cheap, PVC ones from a shitty, chain sex store, either. No sir, this was the real deal. I had a lot of experience with crops. Hell, I've had and used a few of my own, and this was legit. I bet it would feel so good if she... wait, why did she have a crop? Words still eluded me, however, and all I could was point to it, stare into her brilliant green eyes, and make stupid noises. Is this what little space feels like or what the hell? “Oh, don't you worry about that...” She said with a knowing grin in a voice far too feminine to suite this dominant demeanor she had going.
We talked for about an hour, and it was almost time for my scene with Kyle, but honestly, I wasn't sure if I could go through with it. All I could think about was Riley's crop, and seeing how hard she could swing it. Would she hold back? I tried to shake the thought from my head and focus on the conversation, which admittedly was not much different than where my mind was wandering. I had assumed we'd discuss all sorts of things. You know, first date stuff, whatever the hell that means. Instead we spent the whole first hour together talking about fetishes, fantasies, and possibilities. Again, a lot of this we had discussed online, but until now it was only... hypothetical, now it was actually theoretical! This woman had a real dominant, and even sadistic side to her. And I fucking loved it. But I honestly had no idea where it came from, either. We'd talked a lot about my experiences as a submissive, and she did say she has some notably dominant tendencies and kinky fantasies, but nothing she described came close to the person I saw in front of me. It excited me, maybe a bit too much. Far too many times I've seen a newbie come into the scene, full of hopes and expectations, thinking they know exactly what they want to do and how to do it, only to have the meteor of reality obliterate their glass wall of delusions and misconceptions. Mostly I was afraid she would get bored of this dominant persona and decide she too would rather be submissive. I didn't want to pretend roles, either, I wanted something real. And I've tried being dominant before. I thought I could do it for the right person. What a horrible disaster that was. I realized long ago that I needed to be the one on my knees. I craved it, more than anything.
It was about ten, and Kyle had made sure one of the dungeon moderators reserved the St. Andrews for us, which probably took more effort than I realized at the time considering it was literally the only real piece of legitimate dungeon equipment here. The rest of the area was just littered with padded stools. Effective, but boring, and I had every intention of showing off. But before Kyle came over, Riley brought her face right up to mine. I could feel her breath on my lips and I quivered. Her energy was intoxicating. “So...” she started, loud enough to be heard over the club sounds, but quiet enough that only I could hear, “I brought a couple other things... if you're interested.” Fuck yeah I was interested. Not that I could voice that opinion, so I just forced an awkward couple of nods and hoped. She got the hint, and I was seriously starting to doubt her lack of experience.
Looking down I saw her reach into her purse, not an especially large one, but it was odd for anyone here to be carrying anything. Bags and such tend to get in the way, especially at a fetish club. That said, it wasn't like anyone had any pockets in their cat suits and slutty french maid outfits. Riley pulled out a beautiful latex collar, lined with soft leather on the inside, a D-ring centered at the front, and a locking buckle in the back. It wasn't quite as big as a posture collar, but It was fairly wide and dipped into a slight V at the front. It was one of the most gorgeous things I'd seen, and I desperately wanted to put it on, for her to strap it tight around my neck and make me hers. Oh fuck! Yup, I am definitely slipping into sub space. How could I be so frenzied? Surely I was more experienced than to get so worked up over a little play collar... okay so it was a big play collar, but still! It wasn't like I haven't been playing at all. Kyle and I still got together once a month to practice, and I had a couple of partners I hooked up with somewhat regular. But Riley, she was different. This felt so much more than just excitement to play. I didn't just want to play – her energy, her stare, and all those memories of late night conversations until 3am on a work night - all of it culminated into this one moment where I had to make this decision, but I didn't know how to make it.
I have a pretty strict rule about pick up play, but it wasn't like we just met. I also have rules about playing with newbies, but also she clearly had some idea what she was doing. And fuck I wanted her so bad! “It's okay to say no. I know we never discussed this, but I started getting all these ideas and practiced some stuff....” There was that shy, sensitive girl I remembered from the internet. Screw it. I leaned in and whispered into her ear, “Please... put it on me....” She nuzzled into my neck and kissed my cheek again. I went from quivering to full blown trembling, and I didn't have to see her face to know she was grinning, probably sadistically. The collar gripped around my throat tightly, hugging me almost as much as my skirt. My breathing instantly became laboured, not from the collar, but just shear anticipation, and I was definitely going into sub space. Riley whispered back into my ear after she locked the collar in place and wrapping a chain with the key around her neck, “As long as this is on you... you're mine.”
There was no more quivering, no more trembling, no more awkward noises and silences. I was hers. She stood up, I stood up. She said come, I followed. I caught a glimpse of Kyle lurking in the corner of the dungeon, talking with one of the moderators. He smiled devilishly at me. He knew exactly what was going on. For a moment I felt bad for suddenly bailing on our scene without a word, but then he was only doing it for me, and after a fair bit of 'coaxing.' I'm sure he was okay with it. One of the other moderators then directed us to the cross Kyle had reserved, and I don't know if it was our outfits, the fact that we were the only lesbian couple, or because we got to skip the line for the best, most notable piece of equipment in the dungeon, but as soon as we stepped up to it, all eyes were on us. I think Riley got off on it as much as I did. I won't lie, I loved the attention. She pulled me in close again, running her hands over my back, then lower. Whatever tension remained was gone and I relaxed entirely. I felt like I was melting into her body. I think I moaned.
“Okay... good... Now, while this collar is on, and you're mine...” She said it again. It drove me mad.
For all my bravado and 'bratitude' about my experiences, this was entirely new to me. As a bottom, I have a special power called the 'safe word.' I can invoke this power whenever I feel scared, overwhelmed, or whatever other reason I feel means the play needs to stop. That's up to me, and with it, I've always felt like the one in control. But this was the first time I felt like I truly surrendered to someone. Sure, I still had my power, but I didn't feel in control, and I didn't want to. I wanted to be just like this.
“And as long as you're mine, you will call me Mistress.”
“Yes... Mistress....” I uttered back, not confident She heard me, but it was the best I could do right now. Yet the words fell so easily from my lips. That is, until they locked with Hers.
I gasped at the touch of Her lips on mine. They felt soft and delicate, pressed tightly against mine. It was mind numbing. It felt so real and fantastical all at once, and I fell deeper into Her embrace, I could feel my body going limp. My tongue slid across Hers like velvet, and my breath quickened more. I was suffocating, drowning in the passion of that single moment, and when Ryley finally pulled away it was too soon. I whimpered, slightly frustrated, but quickly remembered there was still so much more coming.
“Now, strip for me!”
That was sudden! “But I...” For a second I had completely forgotten my tirade about how I really was an exhibitionist. Obviously she remembered. I noted not to question her again, and began – delicately and slowly – removing my latex, until only my boots and thong remained. Anyone not watching before surely would be now, but I could only stare at Her... my Mistress.
“Since it's our first time, you won't be gagged, do you remember your safeword?”
I simply nodded in response.
“What was that?” Damn, she was quick. Seriously, no experience?!
“Oh, umm... sorry. Yes Mistress!”
"Good girl," She responded with a cocky smile.
'Mistress' did seem sort of cliché, and typical of a newbie, but again, it did have a strange, naturalness to it. And Her confidence, Her knowledge, newbie or not, Riley sure as hell had done Her homework. Good girl! I thought, and giggled to myself before Riley took a sharp glance at me as She was undoing the cuffs on the cross. I pretended nothing happened. Once She had the cuffs ready, She guided me into the position She wanted. My back - and ass - to the crowd, my arms and legs spread to match its shape, then my hands and feet were strapped in. The cuffs had good cushion and some wiggle room, so I wasn't concerned about circulation, although if I tried really, really hard, I could probably squeeze one of my hands out. But once Riley readied the shiny new crop, I forgot all about escaping and the helplessness set in. I'm sure our audience got a good view of how soaked my thong must be already. It was lacy, snow white, and why the hell didn't I wear my black one?!
Then the first strike hit, right across my left ass cheek. I squeaked, not entirely ready for it, but as the split second of shock faded that familiar warmth of pleasure cascaded up my back. Riley followed the sensation as She traced my spine with the crop. A brief pause, then thwack! This time I could hear it hiss in the air before it made contact, the right cheek this time. Again, a split second of pain, followed by intense pleasure as endorphins already began flooding my brain. Her control was as amazing as Her timing. She knew to leave just enough time between strikes for me to feel the pleasure, before coming down again. After a couple more good hits I felt Her breath on my neck as she whispered, “So... how is that, mine?” More quivering. I tried to answer, I really did, but when play feels this good, I go almost completely non-verbal. Mistress wanted an answer, though, and brought the crop to my chin, forcing my head up just a bit and turned to face Her better. “I'm waiting,” She sang to me, and as She did, chomp! I bit down onto the end of the crop as hard as I could. Riley just stared at me, wide eyed, almost horrified. I wondered if I'd made a mistake. Not everyone love's brats, but I couldn't help myself. It was in my nature.
“Let! Go!.”
I let go. It had been a long time since anyone had been that stern with me. Any of the people I've played with that weren't annoyed with my bratty behaviour thought it was great fun. Hilarity and funishment ensued. But my Mistress was clearly displeased, and I instantly regretted. Until... Riley smiled like a vampire would smile at the smell of fresh, virgin blood. A wash of relief fell over me.
“You... are going... to pay... for that!” Her Domme voice... c'est incroyable. (Oui, je parle francais. Et tu?)
I felt the tingle of Her leather gloves along my shoulders, and the heat of Her breath on my neck before Her teeth sunk in, deep. I gasped before letting out a long, growling moan. Heh, some punishment.... She moved Her hands down my sides to grip me by the hips, and bit deeper. We'd both be in a lot of trouble if She broke skin, but I couldn't think about consequences. I was far too into sub space, all I could do was react. It wasn't a matter of punishment at all. In an instant She did what no one else before had ever done. She completely took away my want to be a brat. At this point I would do anything and everything for Her.
Riley knew better than to break the rules, though, no matter how into it or new She was. She knew just when to stop, and let go before any blood was drawn. Though I wasn't disappointed, no. How could I be? It was my Mistress's will, and what She wants, I want. As She released Her grip, I noticed a figure approaching. My eyes were glazed over, and I could barely make it out, but I was pretty sure it was Kyle, carrying the flogger he had planned to use on me. Nng, not now, Kyle, I thought to myself, No co-topping... just Her.... My thoughts droned on like that for a few seconds, but nothing comprehensive. It wasn't long, though, until I realized Kyle had no intention of interfering, he did know better, he didn't even say anything. He simply handed the flogger to Riley, and left, almost as if the whole thing was scripted. Other times like this was when my mind usually went off on a hundred tangents, considering various possibilities of how and why that just happened, but right now, brain no work... good....
The flogger felt even better – they were my favourite type of toy, after all. This one had a good sting to it, making it capable of inflicting all sorts of wonderful pain, but had just enough thud still that with each strike came an incredible wave of pleasure, too. And Riley was relentless with it. The falls crashed against my back, again and again, my entire body twitching in response. Pain and pleasure became indiscernible, and I descended deeper. My Mistress... She was perfect. The sadistic whispers in my ear, telling me how she so enjoyed hurting me. The sounds I made when She did. The way my body burned at the mere thought of Her touch, and the way it convulsed in ecstasy with every swing. I'm quite certain my eyes were permanently fixed into the back of my head.
I don't know how long it had been, but finally Riley started to slow down, and began using the flogger more as a massager, running it firmly along my back and kneading into my flesh with Her hand. “Was that good?” She whispered. “Nng... rrrrnnggggg....” Was all I could manage, but then, there were no words for what She just did to me. Angels would be so lucky to feel what I felt. She chuckled, and began to undo the cuffs. I groaned. I hated this part, but as my thoughts and vision slowly started to return to normal (I guess my eyes weren't broken after all...), I began to smile – it was time for aftercare.
Kyle grabbed our stuff and spotted Riley as She practically carried me over to a space in the lounge that was free. People watched intently as we left the dungeon floor. I think I heard a couple people starting to clap, but whoever was nearby stopped them. That was thing about scenes, it was important to let the players be. Clapping can be excitatory or a distraction, it had no place in or after a scene. No shouts, no comments, and definitely no physical contact without prior consent. If it's a public scene, watch, but never interfere in any way. That's a golden rule.
When we got to the couch, the couple on it actually moved to give us the whole space. I flicked a finger at Kyle then pointed at them and nodded. He knew what I meant, and went to get them a drink on me for their kindness. This way, I could curl up with my head on my Mistress's lap. She took her gloves off and I felt the bare touch of Her hands for the first time as She stroked my hair and caressed my arm, sometimes sliding Her fingers over my chest and between my breasts. Her hands were warm, kind of clammy from being so worked and caged in leather, but She still felt so wonderful. The music and talking was loud enough to keep me from falling asleep, I'm sure the same went for Riley, but I had never felt more relaxed in my life.
It was wafter twelve, and people had started leaving by the time Riley and I were able to compose ourselves and start thinking about leaving, too. I started to feel almost... scared. I had felt far more pain than that before. Our scene was pretty tame by comparison. But the raw emotion and desire behind every moment brought something to it that was indescribable. I had to remind myself, sternly, to beware of top crush. I was never particularly sensitive to it, but it was always a possibility. Still, I had to wonder why I felt so strongly for Riley, when I never had for plenty of other amazing tops I'd played with. That must mean something... right? Fuck it.
I slowly raised my body up off of Her lap, and my eyes met Hers. She looked just as exhausted as I felt. I pulled in closer to kiss Her gently, only for a moment. “Mistress...?” She just smiled and let me continue. “Would you... would you like to come home... with me?” Oh fuck, did I really just ask that? And why the fuck did I care? Stupid female emotions. Riley's expression softened into the sweetest smile. Unbecoming of a Domme, but still so enticing. She didn't respond with words or a typical gesture to indicate yes or no, but when She kissed me back the way She did, Her answer was obvious.
I somehow managed to find the energy to get up and put my clothes back on – no more latex at a club. I can wear it to a party where I have the option of changing into something else after. Fuck this noise. When we were ready to go, I quickly ran over to Kyle, who was flirting with some tasty thing at the bar, hugged him, whispered to him the most sincere 'thank you' I ever had in my life, and pranced back over to my Mistress. On our way out, I looped my finger through the ring and tugged on my collar. I never felt whole when I wasn't wearing one, and this one was perfect. I never wanted to take it off.
The brisk, spring air breathed new life into both of us. We grabbed cheap coffee at the nearest 24 hour convenience and caught the late bus back to my place. Another half hour and we would've needed a cab. Although I guess with all the money I saved from not drinking for once.... On the other hand, by now I was back to my bratty self, and it made the ride home much more entertaining. I'm sure we got the absolute most hilarious death glares from the few night shift workers trying to get home in peace, but I was far too transfixed on my Mistress to really notice... or care. Yeah, I can be kind of a bitch like that.
By the time we got back to my place it was nearly two, but between the cold air, the coffee, and the seemingly never-ending sexual tension, neither of us were in the mood to sleep. As soon as we got in through the door, Riley had me by the collar, and dragged me to my bedroom. No, She isn't psychic, it's just a really small apartment.... Anyway, once we were at my bed, She threw me down face first, and before I could react, I felt Her weight on top of me. Some people freak out about things like this, but compression was just another form of bondage to me. Wearing a straight jacket was just about the most comfortable thing in the world. I owned a leather and a latex one.
Riley was like an animal, though, biting and clawing at me. I felt like prey, and it was pushing me towards the edge again. For someone so kinky and slutty, I didn't actually have that much sex. I wasn't interested in men, and it was hard to find a woman in the scene genuinely interested in intimacy with another girl. Most just wanted to try out playing, see how it was, but it rarely turned into sex. Usually if I wanted to hook up I went to a club, but that got expensive to do frequently, and to be honest, it loses its appeal pretty damn fast for someone like me who is used to being in a relationship. But, here I was, being mauled by an amazing, beautiful woman I just met in person for the first time.
Suddenly She bit down, hard, into the soft flesh where my neck meets my shoulder. I felt the blood trickle onto the bed. “No-ooh...” I cried out softly. “I didn't hear 'red'...” Riley cackled. I smirked and tried to wriggle away, but She grabbed me firmly by the collar and arm and forced me to stay put. Then She rolled me over onto my back, and She forced her tongue violently into my mouth as our lips met again. I could taste my own blood. She had me pinned down at my wrists now, as I squirmed beneath Her, thrusting my hips to Hers. “Fuck me...” I managed to gasp with what little air She allowed me. Suddenly I really wanted to get this latex off. I guess my Mistress read my mind, because at that moment She had already begun undoing my corset. We started pulling at each others clothing. The leather and latex squeaked and groaned against one another, as the two of us panted and writhed, taking ever moment we could to taste the other. Riley really liked to bite – at my lip, my neck, my face, my arm or chest – anywhere She could find bare flesh. I reveled in the thought of how many marks She was leaving. So much wonderfulness to show off!
We undressed remarkably fast. I suppose when you're this excited, even as you fumble in desperation, you sort of just make things happen quicker. Before I knew it, we were both stripped down to nothing but our underwear. Riley had me by the throat with Her left hand, Her right one inside my thong, Her fingers tracing between the lips. I felt a little embarrassed and probably blushed, now with Her being able to feel how wet I was. The tension built and I wanted to clench my eyes shut, but I couldn't take them off Her, staring back at Her, looking inside and seeing the predator She was finally able to let out. It made me so incredibly happy to be the one She could finally let this out for. The raw emotion filled me, and with perfect timing my Mistress slid but a single finger inside of me. My tight cunt clenched around it and my head tilted back, my eyes finally closing. I moaned a little with pleasure, gurgling on the saliva that couldn't find it's way down my throat – Riley had an amazing grip. Her fingers tightened just on the sides. It made you feel like you were being choked without actually cutting off air.
She then let go, only to bite down once more into my neck, this time above my collar, and I felt another finger sliding inside. My hands were still free and I wanted to get these damn panties off, but when I tried to pull them down, Riley used Her body to keep me still where I was, with her nestled snuggly between my legs. Her weight, though not much, was enough to make me feel trapped under Her. Why She didn't want me to take that last piece off I don't know, but Her will was my desire, and I immediately relinquished. I moved my hands to Her back, scratching and clawing, leaving some marks of my own, I'm sure. I could hardly focus on anything but what She was doing, though. Her fingers moved rhythmically, sliding in and out, sometimes sliding up across my clit, teasing me, driving me insane. Her free hand moved wildly over my body, grabbing at my breasts, squeezing my nipples, and clawing down my stomach. I was so high on endorphins, I didn't even notice I was bleeding in several places now. My Mistress kept bringing me closer and closer to climax, then pulling away. It was maddening. I got it, She was in control, but come on!
“Please... Mistress....” I pleaded.
“What was that? Are you asking me for permission to...”
The brat in me took over and didn't let her finish, “Come! Please... let me come....”
“You interrupted me...” And She stopped, let me go, and knelt over me.
I stared back up at Her in quiet apprehension. I did it again, let the brat get the best of me, and I think I may have just sacrificed my orgasm... fuck! Then She leaned in and whispered, “You little bitch, you're gonna to pay for that...” I certainly hope so! I thought. I knew better than to let that one out loud, though. I wasn't smart, but I was smart enough not to go that far. Riley got up and went over to Her purse that was haphazardly thrown on the floor. I couldn't even remember where mine was right now. From it She pulled out two pairs of handcuffs. Riley really did do her homework, and splurged on real police cuffs, probably from one of the military surplus stores in town. I wondered for a moment why we had so many for being such a liberal city. I could tell they were real, though, when She strapped a pair onto each wrist then secured me to each side of the steel bed frame (yes, I got this style on purpose...). Once they were secured by the double locking mechanism, She put the spare key around Her neck with the key to my collar. Once more She knelt over me and bent down to whisper.
“There... Now, you better watch that little whore mouth of yours, or I'll find something to gag you with...” She said with a sadistic gleam in her eyes.
It was hardly a threat, though. The first thing I thought of was all the things She could gag me with in my dresser alone, and I only got more excited. I decided not to push it, though. There might still be a chance for that orgasm. But, my Mistress was first. She was in control, and what She wanted, She got. Inching herself forward, Riley centered Herself over my face. As if on instinct, I opened my mouth for my present, stretched out my tongue trying to get a taste of Her. She hovered for a moment, gripping the top of the headboard frame firmly to hold Her position over me. I tried harder, straining my neck what little I could, fighting the collar, desperately trying to get that taste. Then Riley lowered Herself, and I finally felt the hot and wet of Her in my mouth. I didn't know if She wanted me to tease first, but Her pussy was firmly in place, pushing against my jaw, and I wasn't one to play games. Immediately I started lapping aggressively at Her clit, the abrasive surface of my tongue scraping across the smoother texture of Her cunt. I used my lips to suck on it, and sometimes grabbed it with my teeth. Riley moaned loud enough probably for the neighbours to hear. She liked it as rough as I did, so I kept going, harder, flicking my tongue faster. Her hips rocked back and forth across my face. She pushed harder, forcing my head hard against the pillow until there was virtually nothing between my head and the mattress. I went harder. She went harder. Until finally, Her body twitched violently, Her hips jerked and She cried out as She climaxed. Her come dripped into my mouth, spilled over my lips and down my cheeks onto the pillow. I swallowed all I could, taking as much of Her into me as possible.
Riley rolled off and slumped down into the bed next to me as we both gasped for air. A brief pause to catch our breath, then Her lips found mine again and embraced me into a sensual, post-orgasm kiss. My lips tingled, and my tongue felt a little numb, but I gave back everything I had. Then She whispered, “Good girl... very good girl.... Your turn now....” I almost squealed in excitement. My Mistress had just given me a wonderful gift, and now She was about to reward me, too! Damn I'm lucky... especially for being so bratty!
Before I knew it I felt a tug on my thong as my Mistress slid them down off of me. I couldn't tell if She was in a hurry to finish, or just as excited as I was, but immediately I could feel the warmth wet of Her breath caressing my labia. Then, once more, the familiar feeling of Her fingers sliding up into me, curved slightly upwards to stroke that especially sensitive spot. My body jerked slightly, causing me to pull on my cuffs. The metal dug into my wrists. The pain felt good. Tremors of pleasure coursed through my body at my Mistress's touch. She stroked faster now, and soon the feeling of Her breath was replaced by the soft brush of Her tongue, delicately at first, just barely touching, teasing, incessantly. I squirmed in felicitous agony. “Please Mistress... harder....” I begged. I imagined Her maniacal smile when after my plea, Her tongue stopped and fingers slowed, giving me just enough to sustain the joie de vivre, but pulling me back, further from climax. I groaned in frustration. Fuck She knew exactly how to punish. How could anybody be this good?
“I love it when you beg,” She said, looking up at me from between my legs. It felt awkward looking down on Her this way and I turned away shyly. I guess She agreed. Riley crept up my body until Her face was parallel with mine. She kissed me on the cheek sweetly, and I felt Her body move to reach something on the bed side table... Holy shit, I left my vibrator out! My head snapped around to look. I was right. There She was, holding my Hitachi with the grin of a seasoned Dominatrix. Next I felt a hand working through my hair behind my head then a firm tug, jerking my head back hard into the pillow. “Ah! Huuuh...” I moaned, a tear trickling from each eye. Fuck it hurt, but I loved it so. With Her hand still firmly holding me in place, I felt the Hitachi whir, pressed firmly against my clit. “Fuuuu...uck...” It was a hell of a vibrator, but this was beyond anything.
I was completely overwhelmed with sensation. Her hand pulling my hair tightly, the cuffs scraping against my skin, keeping me chained where I was, Ryley roaming my body, biting and scratching, and the unrelenting machine that sent a constant wave of pleasure. Again my eyes rolled deep into the back of my head, barely aware of what was happening anywhere but inside my body, save for the occasional, taunting whispers of my Mistress.
“You really are a little, slut, aren't you?”
“Come for me, I want you to beg your Mistress.”
“You're... all... mine!”
Finally I was pushed over the edge and plummeted into a mind-numbing orgasm. My neighbours must be horrified by my cries. Between the force of my wailing and the tension of the collar I choked a little on my scream, as my body pulsed and spasmed uncontrollably. I thought the bed might somehow snap or bend. Every square millimeter of my skin was now incredibly sensitive. Riley let the Hitachi drop to the floor and hovered on Her hands and knees above me, letting just Her breath tickle my flesh. I must have been so flushed. I was burning. My chest was heaving, but I couldn't catch my breath. “Shhh... shhh...” I heard her whisper, trying to calm me, gently stroking my hair. It worked, mostly. I caught my breath and my chest didn't hurt so much. I managed to open my eyes at last and see Her looking down on me. Another tear rolled from my eye, but I couldn't tell you what from.
Latex and leather covered my bedroom floor. Half unlaced boots and wet, tangled thongs threatened to trip any foggy headed submissive foolish enough to try to find the bathroom. It was dark but I could see. See my Mistress's face, so confident and so kind. I kissed Her softly and deeply as She unlocked the cuffs. My wrists were red and chaffed, but I could barely feel anything. Not there, not from Her bite marks or scratches that left me bleeding. Not the back of my head where my hair was nearly yanked from my skull. All I felt was bliss, pure satisfaction, all at the hands of Her. I curled up in my Mistress's arms, wrapping my legs around Hers, and this little insomniac drifted into the deepest sleep faster than you could say, Kneel, bitch!