Sarah

"WHAT! ...You F-O-R-G-O-T!

You mean to tell me that you...you...you FORGOT!--to wipe your ass!"

Silence...

"Answer me you little cunt...NOW!"

"Oh, Veronica, you're frightening me. Yes, yes, I'm sorry I forgot to wipe my ass today...I'm sorry Veronica, don't be mad at me. I always forget. I thought you liked my scent. Remember the first time you licked me, well I hadn't wiped or washed down there for almost a week, I didn't think I had to. I smell nice you told me...I'm confused and afraid now. Oh! Veronica I lo--ve you..."

Chapter 14.

"Get in the bathroom you little cow, and wash your fucking hole. You little bitch! Oh! My God! How the fuck can anyone in this world forget to wipe their ass-hole! Get in there you, skanky whore, and wash that hole of yours, NOW! Cunt!"

Sarah rushed into the bathroom, and I heard her crying, and the water running. I picked up her panties, and turned them inside-out. I swear she had staged a mud wrestling event in her gusset. I mean, this woman's ass could turn heads in a morgue, from the outside, but she assumes her shit doesn't stink? What a fucking cheek!

I sniffed them, and nearly came on the spot, my nipples ached and my clitoris quivered. I instinctively reached down and flicked its pink head, and shot back onto the bed squirming in utter ecstasy, sniffing wildly at Sarah's wrecked panty gusset.

Just as I was about to come, I heard Sarah speak.

"I'm all nice and clean now Veronica"

I threw the soiled panties across the room immediately, and sat bolt upright, pretending that I was massaging a cramp in my thigh. I think I got away with it.

Sarah came over and bounced on to the bed.

"Do you still love me, Veronica?" asked Sarah, with such an angelic look in her eye.

"You are so, so, naughty! Sometimes Sarah... I just don't know how you can forget to wipe your ass-hole baby?" I offered in a rather whining voice.

"I'm sorry veronica, my love, but if it bothers you so much, why were your flicking yourself off just now; rubbing your pussy like crazy, sniffing my panties like mad, huh? Come on tell me, huh? Why Veronica? Why? Cat got your tongue baby? Pray, do tell... I'm all ears.

I denied it vehemently, saying that I was checking the tag on her panties, and that I was going to buy her new ones tomorrow on the way home from work, as a surprise, considering the state of her current ones, and that I had a cramp in my inner thigh muscle, and that I was rubbing it to alleviate the pain.

Sarah smiled and almost imperceptively nodded in feigned agreement, staring intently into my averted eyes. She reached down slowly, took my hand by the wrist, and brought it up between our faces. The fingers were dripping wet, sticky and slippery, and glistened in the dim light that issued forth out of the open bathroom doorway. Sarah sniffed them and pushed my index finger deep into her mouth, rolling her wet tongue over it, and sucking at it hard. Our eyes locked into a close, fixed, stare at every moment. When she pulled it out, it was cleaned and almost dry to the touch. She folded it back into my palm, and ran my middle finger under my nose.

"Smells like...thigh, I suppose?" she said sarcastically, "Doesn't it my love?"

Then she parted my lips and pushed the finger all the way into my open mouth.

"...Remind you of anything darling? Perhaps honey-cinnamon, thighs I guess, with a pinch of nutmeg, and the merest hint of fresh sturgeon row, seasoned by ground crystallized sea salt evaporated from the salt pools of the Caspian itself...? Now where, I wonder, have we tasted such delicate delights as this before...? Let me see... I know, why its Veronica's thighs! No, no...I'm mistaken, but I think I'm getting warmer, don't you my naughty little fibber? Why yes, I have smelled that fragrance, and tasted that yummy, yummy, concoction only tonight, even... Let me tell you where my blushing baby, why right there hunn, yes right there--between--your gorgeous thighs, right there deep down between the coral hued walls of your sandy colored buttocks, yes, down there my sweet prevaricator, at your puckered rose-bud; pathway to your forbidden realm. A realm steeped in darkness, and mystery: Age old taboos shatter every time you open its circular, kaleidoscopic, door, like a shutter of a camera set on f-stop 1.2, implicit permission given, to enter with an eager wriggling tongue, or as probing finger, or your favorite long, undulating strappy, pushed in deep, punishing your hole, jarring at your perineum, winding menacingly up into your anal chamber, as your nerve ends send their delicious signal up your spine, injecting their endorphins deep into the heart of your pulsating hypothalamus. And let us not forget, the range of "equipment" laying-in-wait, just across the other side of the perineum bridge. Ah--hhh, Yes! The Corporate Headquarters of the Perfumery, itself! The valiant Vulva! Set there, between the soft flesh of the thighs, explicate in all of its glorious vulgarity, and unambiguous intent, split vertically from below the Rubenesque belly of the beholder, down, around and through The Mount of Venus, its labial lips coming back together at the perineum bridge. A violent gash, red and pink, its wetted labial lips, turgid and scented with secretions from the apocrine glands, swell like alary wings coming together, interiorly, in the frenulum to form the prepuce--the nun's hood; the headdress of choice, of the almighty--Clitoris Royal! You see, my dearest Veronica, I know every last fold, and crevice of your dripping hole, and every endocrine fragrance sequestered there, under you, so baby, I know that there was no thigh-cramp, and you know you love me, and you love the way I smell. I know you do, you always have, and I don't know why you get so mad at me; for just being---me. Kiss me you fool!"

We kissed, long and hard, licking and sucking and drinking of each other without restraint, then we broke apart.

"I saw you sniffing my panties, and rubbing yourself. I was standing there, in the bathroom doorway, for over a minute, just watching you. It made me wet again underneath, and just after I had washed and dried it down there for you. I just lo--ve you so, so, much you silly little cuddly bear you."

I blushed, and felt ashamed, for the way I had treated Sarah. But she had to learn to wipe! No so much for me, but for...herself! Or perhaps, it just didn't matter to her.

One day, I would present her with the shit, fresh out of my! ass. Then we will see: Yes, we will see then, alright, if, when the tables are turned--if she can handle the repercussions of it? After all, what's good for the goose...?

But isn't that just such a pipe-dream of mine...

Sarah knows, I am too much of a lady, to ever! do anything of the like. I'm so easy to read, I guess: But, one of these fine days though, Sarah: Yes! one of these days, I swear...! Humph!

Just wait! Oh! Yes, Sarah, just you fucking wait! Just wait you little fucking bitch, just you wait! Fucking little Bitch Whore!

Chapter 15.

I had to think fast!

Sarah had me up against the wall, and if I let her assume control, well, we would crash and burn in under a month, I knew it. I love her so, so, much that I just couldn't let that happen.

I thought, I could cry, and throw myself, helpless, upon Sarah's innate caring, maternal instinct, or lie like a shameless hog, sticking to my cramp and present story?

In the end I decided to take-the-bull-by-the-horns, and ignore everything, ordering Sarah to lie in my lap over my knees and to hold onto my ankles while I inspected her holes for cleanliness.

I issued the directive in my sternest tone of voice, and Sarah bought it and instantly forgot her advantage over me, and scurried around in total compliance.

Her 120lbs felt like nothing to my larger frame, and most of that weight was centered in her enormous ass, and breasts. I could feel her titties dangling down my calves, her nipples grazing my ankle bone, her hair caressing me feet.

With the bulbous orbs, of Sarah's buttocks centered over my lap, she became almost weightless; her upper torso, balanced perfectly by her shapely thighs and lower legs.

I reached over, down the side of my bed, for my riding crop. I always keep it hanging on a peg, screwed to the side of my dresser, for quick and easy access, along with an assortment of strap-on dongs of varying sizes, and lengths, and girths, in case the mood takes me in the middle of a session. Rummaging around looking for things in the heat of the moment, is a sure passion killer, I have found.

I threaded my hand through the leather hoop at the handle, and ran the little flat end of it down Sarah's spine, then brought it around to her face, turning her head to the side, and slightly elevated, so she could look up into my face. I gently slapped her lips with the flapper at the end, and she whimpered ever so softly. I returned her head to its upside-down hanging position, and she began to pant.

I asked in a slow soft, caring voice, "Has my little love doll, been naughty, or good, I wonder...?"

Sarah started to answer.

"I..I..I--"

I cut her stammering short with the interruption,

"Tut, tut, tut...! Mommy didn't tell you that you could speak baby...Schhhhhhhhh now, my little baby; Schhhhhhhhhh..."

Sarah choked back another whimper, and almost hyperventilated.

I gently caressed her fine buttocks with the cool braids of the crop, then, lifting my arm high above my head, I laid one squarely across the golden orbs with a resounding SLAP!

Sarah's didn't make a sound, but her head flew up and back, so fast the her flowing hair swished up and around landing over her ripping concave spine; her mouth and eyes wide open in shock, her panting had halted, in fact she wasn't breathing at all, and her legs shot out stiff, horizontal to the ground, the arches of her feet curved and her toes pointing straight out, I thought,

"What perfect posture, for a Swallow-Dive!"

I will have to remember to ask Sarah, later, if she was on the diving team at college.

I felt her nails dig deep into my ankles, and as the blue-red welt started to rise diagonally across her blemish-free cheeks, a warm flow trickled down my legs, as her urethra opened and closed involuntarily, and hot piss squirted from her in powerful jets into my lap.

I ran the long, brown, platted crop over the length of her body, from the tip of her toes, to the nape of her neck, and tried to calm her down by whispering,

"Relax baby, mommy loves her little baby, relax..."

Sarah started to shudder, and took in an almighty gasp of breath, letting out a high-pitched squeal, followed by torrents of tears, and sobs so regret full, that they almost touched my very heart. Then she collapsed back down across my knees as limp as a rag-doll, sobbing her little heart out.

I said with total resignation in my voice,

"Why mommy loves her naughty, naughty... Naughty! ...Little baby."

And with each and every "naughty" I laid another lash across her trembling ass, harder and harder with each successive swing.

Sarah squirmed and yelped, and piss ran freely now out of her convulsing pussy, and she let out a long, enormous fart that shocked me into stopping.

"Please, oh--hh, please... I'm sorry mommy Veronica, please, I'm so, so, sorry." blurted Sarah between bouts of lip quivering repentance.

"You ought to be sorry, my girl. How DARE! You tease mommy like that!"

And I laid down another three across her thighs this time just to drive home the message.

My arm was tired, and I think I pulled a muscle in my forearm, so I decided to move onto the next phase, that of obedience training, which didn't require so much exertion, on my behalf.

I said, in a stern, yet conciliatory tone,

"Mommy needs to inspect you now my darling, just to be sure you did a good job down there in the bathroom, with the soap and flannel. Now, let go of mommy's ankles and bring your sweet little hands up here. Yes, baby just like that. Now pull you buttocks wide apart, yes, that's a good little girl...wider...Wider! Good girl! Now open you legs darling...wider...Wider!, good girl, mommy love her baby when baby is good now doesn't she?"

Sarah nodded profusely, and I felt her nipples harden and stiffen against the top of my instep.

I ran the crop over her rose-bud, and brought it to my nose for the smelling. It came back sweet and clean, as it ought to with a young attractive lady. Next, I threaded the cool leather shaft through her vulvas' labia majora. It came back coated with thick, clear cream, with a modicum of bubbly white froth clinging to the syrup. I sniffed it and my nipples instantly hardened so rapidly that they caused me to moan at their intense aching, and my clitoris shot out from its prepuce, like a sea-anemone popping out of its flute for feeding, when danger has past, and the coast is clear once again.

I put the crop between my lips like a flautist readying for a tune, and drew it through from side to side, scooping off the sticky cream as it passed through my mouth. I quaked as an intense single orgasmic wave shot through my torso, into my brain. Two or three squirts of piss blasted earth ward, and splashed across Sarah's face down there. I heard her try to muffle a giggle.

In the dim light, I could see Sarah's bung-hole. It was swollen, and stood proud, like the top of a volcano's caldera. Her new boyfriend must have moved on from her love-tunnel, and into the obligatory anal phase of the relationship...they always do, sooner or later!

I guess she will be bringing this one around for another dinner party soon. I'll have to remember to stock a 2 liter bottle of diet coke in the refrigerator, just for the occasion.

I touched her rose-bud with the flap of the crop, and it immediately constricted tight, quivering there for a while, then relaxed and sprang back to its former swollen volcanic form.

I slapped at it gently with the crop, and Sarah gasped. A gush of high pressure gas blew out from it; it smelled like vanilla cookie dough, my favorite.

I said, with a hint of envy in my delivery,

"So, your new boyfriend, has been seeking the dark, mysterious delights of your back-door, I see."

Sarah, giggled, and nodded her head, saying in a deep, soft husky voice,

"Yes--ssss..."

Then quickly added that she wanted to bring him over to my place for dinner...?

"Why, of course." I replied, with feigned surprise.

I put the riding crop back on its peg, and wet my middle finger.

I tickled the center of Sarah's volcanic-cone, and after a few chaotic constrictions, she guessed what I needed, and opened it up like a sunflower unfurling its petals at the crack of dawn.

I pushed my finger all the way in up to the hilt, and rummaged around inside her ass.

I found the tip of a rather large log, sitting high in her anal cavity, readying itself for a breach birth. I pulled my finger back out, and Sarah gasped with a combination of pain and pleasure.

I dropped my hand down around her face and she opened her beautiful curly lips, and cleaned my finger off, even under the nail.

"Sarah was a good girl now, for a while anyway." I lamented to myself.

I said, in a matter-of-fact way,

"Sarah, my dear, you have the most enormous log high up in your ass. Go to the bathroom, at once, and get rid of it, now! Please: And don't forget to flush...and I want you to stand there until you actually see that the darn thing has gone clean-around-the-bend. I don't want to find anything in the bowl, when you leave, you hear? Do you hear me..? I repeated.

"My God, that girl is driving me clean! around the bend." I thought to myself.

"..And don't forget to wipe afterwards..." I added.

"Oh-hh Ok, Veronica, don't go "On" so, darling; it's very unbecoming of you, dear, don't you know?"

It didn't take long for Sarah to revert back to the cheeky little strumpet she is, and after a good whipping too; which made me think that maybe all the slobbering and sobbing and yelping was nothing more than one big, staged, act from start to finish?

I have noticed that Sarah is being very naughty, much more often these days, and my arm is getting sore, with all the whipping and all...?

Chapter 16.

I heard the flush of the toilet bowl, and the whirr of the bidet, and the rustle of towels, so I assumed Sarah had done her duty, but I didn't hear the hand basin tap running?

As the bathroom door started to open, I shouted.

"I just hope you washed your hands, also, my girl?"

The door stopped swinging open, then closed again, and I heard the hand-basin faucet running. Sarah was mumbling something under her breath. I couldn't quite make it out, what with the door closed and the water running.

I shouted again.

"I can't hear you!"

The mumbling stopped, and Sarah called back.

"I was just saying how much I lo--ve you darling, and the way you always remind me what it is to be--a fucking lady--around you! Humph!"

Chapter 17.

Sarah bounced out of the bathroom, with a lovely winning smile spread generously across her beautiful, suntanned face.

When she caught sight of me standing there amid the shadows of the room, her eyes lit up and she let out an involuntary audible thick, deep purr.

While Sarah was evacuating her ass, of that monster inside it, I had donned my--surprise!

It was foreboding, and frightening: Obscene and vulgar--awesome--in a sort of devilish way. It was all of these things--and much, much more, all at once... Why, it was---Naughty...!

Chapter 18.

It was new.

It was innovative, and it was expensive, baby!

...And it was--revolutionary, too.

It was the manifestation of my imagination, and desire, and in the right hands, it could set Womankind free!

Yes...Free! at last...Free At Last, Oh Lord, Yes---"Free At Last."

I had a dream...

No longer would Woman be anchored to the male genital or for their--deliberation. No, at last, we could steer our destinies in a new direction: A direction devoid of submission, and swinging ball-sacks.

I named it "The Hole Wrecker"!

All I knew was, I didn't relish the thought of it frequenting [my] particular hole, or should I say--holes, but then again, I didn't have to; I was the "Wearer", and, thus, the "Giver" of, both, pain and pleasure, I cared not which: I let that decision-float-upon the whim of the "Receiver" Her, or Himself.

My-"Take"-is this.

I, simply, siphon [out-of] the---pleasure---spectrum of the affair, only what I need: Everyone to their own capisce.

Different strokes for different folks, I guess. I'm so, so easy going! It is one of my faults.

It had cost me plenty! And I did it all for Sarah...along with myself--first, of course. But she would have no idea of that.

To Sarah, I am nothing more than a subservient-submissive; playing a part in [Her] vignette, as "The' Dominant Mistress", and she, taking on the role of the dumb-blond, who, behind the scenes, [Is], the real Dominatrix! All-along, [allowing] me--to think that, I, am the one---in-control...

Chapter 19.

In my book, Sarah is a cunt.

I allow Sarah to believe that she is the real Dominatrix, acting-out the role of the dumb-blond subservient-submissive, unto me; whom she believes she is possibly the opposite of that in reality.

Sarah is the dumb-blond subservient-submissive.

Allowed by The' Dominant Mistress myself, to believe she is not what she portrays herself to be! ...and I allow this, only because I am, I think, what I believe myself to be?

Chapter 20.

It was a full 14 inches in length, and the helmet was a massive 6 inches in diameter, with a 5 inch undulating shaft. Sarah loves the--larger ones!

The contraption was a precision tool really, and had to be custom built to my precise specifications.

It had taken 6 months for a small, but very prestigious German company, who specialized in building complicated robotic devices for NASA space shots to far off planets like Mars and Venus, and the moon, of course.