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if he'd felt the same connection to my orgasm, and I regretted all the times I'd not allowed him to go down on me.
Valerie regained enough control to lift herself off of my face, and she promptly dropped her dripping pussy onto my forehead and slid down over my face, neck, and chest until she was straddling my waist. She reached back with one hand, and I felt her fingers glide over my pubic bone and slide too easily into the wet folds of my pussy. I moaned in embarrassment, arousal, and surrender. My body was saying things about me that I didn't want to hear and that I couldn't understand. Valerie had kicked my ass, made me her bitch, and used me like a sex toy. My pussy told her that I loved it and wanted more.
She kicked her leg over to kneel beside me. Her thumb kept pressure on my clit while two fingers flutter-kicked just millimeters inside me.
"My-oh-my," she said. "What a naughty wet pussy you have, Lisa. You're either a closet lesbian or a closet submissive, or both."
She pushed two, then three fingers inside me and began rubbing my clit with her thumb. "You've now eaten pussy more than you've sucked cock, so the lesbian part makes some sense, but my guess is that you just love being dominated. You're such an alpha bitch that the role reversal turns you on like a switch. You love being my slave, don't you?"
"Yes, ma'am." Her description fit, and my admission pushed me further toward the edge. She anchored the shaft of my clit with her thumb and removed her fingers from my pussy to massage the exposed button in quick, feather-light strokes. My body spasmed in something close to orgasm, but more sustainable and continuous. The only coherent thoughts in my mind were "Valerie owns my ass," and "I'm a filthy sex slave."
Orgasm hit me like an underwater earthquake, releasing waves of pleasure in every direction. I could feel them bursting out through my fingers, toes, and the top of my head. My pussy felt as if it was trying to draw something in and push something out at the same time. My back arched, and I could hear my disembodied voice saying "Oh God...Oh God...Oh God...." Then every spasming muscle relaxed as the final wave broke and deposited my body back on the carpet.
When I opened my eyes, Valerie was standing over me. Her t-shirt was back on, and my comfortable cotton briefs dangled between two fingers at the end of her out-stretched arm. "I will never catch you in anything this unsexy again, slave," she said. "Now it's time to get moving. You've got a lot of work to do to earn your clothes back."
She crumpled my panties in her hand, picked the rest of my clothes up from the floor behind her, and marched toward the kitchen. I rolled over and got to my hands and knees in time to hear her yell "Don't make me come back in there and kick your ass again, Lisa. Meet me in the laundry room in 30 seconds, and bring my bathing suit bottom."
I grabbed her swimsuit and stood. I felt a little head rush, and it took a moment for my arms and legs to decide that they still worked. As I stepped from the point of my enslavement, I heard Valerie yell again.
"Fifteen seconds, whore. Let's go. You've got to get this place cleaned up for your husband's best evening ever."
- COMMENTS
Anonymousabout 11 years agoI think the scene where Valerie forced Lisa to exercise was smoking hot! Valerie's calm and easy control of the formerly powerful Lisa was so subtle, yet so strong. In less then 5 minutes Lisa goes from a powerful business woman, to a helpless slave forced to exercise at the command of her stronger and more fit Mistress. Could you include similar scenes in later chapters, maybe with Lisa nude? And I know that's not the main theme of the story, as Valerie can easily control her slave without bonds, but maybe a little bondage too, anyway?
Anonymousabout 11 years agoI read this several times, and little details just kept coming out. After just 1 short chapter I feel like I know something about these characters personalities and their relationship with each other. The description never got in the way of the action. There was no pause to talk about "her c-cup tits" or any of that. And there were little details, like the Hawaii setting and the orgasm described as an underwater earthquake, the dust bunnies that showed that she paid attention to details, but that her friend was less obsessive and had probably put up with the narrator's silent condescension for a while before the straw that broke the camels back.
