The text
surprised me.
It had
been months since I was told to come to the apartment. I was
beginning to miss the almost empty room with the single light, the
pillows on the floor, the chair or rack... I missed when either Sir
or Mistress, or both of them, laid out what I was to wear in the
bedroom down the hall before crawling on my hands and knees to the
room. The room where I had pleasure and pain, and sometimes displayed
my experience on camera....to my humiliation and excitement.
While I
had been seeing either Sir or Mistress, it was not at the apartment.
The schedules never worked out. But somehow, today it did.
I was at
my work, on break when the text came. My heart jumped when I saw that
the text was from Mistress. She ordered me to come to the apartment
after work. Directly from work. I had never done that. I would
normally be given time to change out of my line cook uniform and get
a shower. Not today.
I stood
in front of the apartment door. I used my key. Smiling I walked in.
Oh, it had been too long! The sparse apartment was just the same as
the last time I was here...
I walked
into the living room, expecting a note from Mistress. And there it
was. On the table near the window. I picked it up, wondering what my
instructions were.
I jumped
when I heard boot heels on the hardwood floor. I turned, expecting
Mistress, but did a hard blink; it was a different woman. I opened
the note and it simply said, “Do what she orders.” I laid the
note back down.
The
woman came in from the kitchen. A beautiful Asian woman with short,
jet black hair. She was wearing a leather, biker jacket. Under that
was a tight tee tucked into blue jeans. The jeans went over her black
boots. She was holding a glass of wine, walking towards me, looking
me over.
She was
dominant and I reacted to it quickly. I cast my eyes downward and
placed my wrists behind my back, crossed at the wrists. She slowly
walked in a circle around me. Boots making noise on the floor.
I felt
uneasy. Normally, I would be presentable. But the instructions in the
text were clear: come in work clothes. Being a line cook, I looked
messy at the end of my shift. I work khakis pants, non-slip sneakers,
a black polo with the restaurant's logo on it, and a baseball cap on
my head. And there were stains on my clothes...I looked horrible and
I was embarrassed.
The
woman stood in front of my and lifted my chin with a finger, “I
find you acceptable. Your Mistress told me everything about you. If
you don't like this arrangement, say so now. If you want to stay,
just nod and you can stay...and you will obey me.”
She was
so beautiful. Make up perfect. Amazing brown eyes. Hair seemed to
shin. And her lips...oh my goodness...I ached for them.
This
wasn't the first time I was shared with others by my Mistress and
Sir. But each time, including now, I always could say no. But this
Asian goddess was too perfect...and I wanted her lips on me, all over
me....I nodded. I would obey.
A lovely
and evil smile played out on her face, “Wonderful. Stay here. Close
your eyes. Don't move. I will be back.”
I
listened to her walk away after closing my eyes. She was gone only a
few minutes. When she came back, I heard something drop to the floor
with a soft flop noise...a pillow.
“Keep
your eyes closed.”
She came
so close that I could smell her perfume: jasmine. I made a little
sighing noise.
“She
told me that you liked this scent.”
Eyes
closed, I nodded.
“Good.
Now...you are about to feel something. When you do, slowly open your
eyes. And then you may release your hands.”
I nodded
and waited a moment. Savoring the scent; she was so close to me. I
felt some thing on my stomach. Heavy. Large. I slowly opened my eyes
and looked right into that angelic Asian face. Her lips were right
there...
I
released my hands, but they stayed at my sides. I was transfixed by
her. Her face almost on mine. Her lips were right...there. All I had
to do was lean forward, and I could taste them.
It was
as if she could read my mind, “No. I touch you, you don't touch me,
understand?”
I
nodded, disappointed.
She
smiled, “I know. Look down.”
I looked
down between us. She was wearing a strap-on. It was resting on my
belly. Large, heavy and black.
She came
closer and placed her hands on my hips. She did a slow grind against
my body. The black strap-on moving up and down on my stomach. Pushing
at my shirt, pushing at my body and I wanted it...I wanted it inside
of me. I wanted her to drive it into me...all of it.
I looked
back up into her face as moved together. She nodded. Pushed the
strap-on into my stomach, slowly.
I let my
hands come forward. They didn't seem to be a part of me. But they did
what I commanded them to do. My small hands wrapped around the dildo
of the strap-on.
It was
thick. So thick. I let my hands stroke it. Thumbs on the tip, light
grip on the shaft. Up and down, stroking, my hips now moving in,
pressing it against me...we both started moving faster.
After a
few moments, she stopped moving. She moved away from me, just a
little bit. My hands were still on the strap-on, still stroking it. I
missed its weight on my belly.
As I
stroked it, I looked at her. She smiled. She knew. She knew she had
me. That I would obey. That I wanted her. Badly...
She
traced a finger just above her belt. “You have to earn the right to
learn my name. You have to earn the right to get pleasure from me.
You have to earn everything that you want from me. Understand?”
I was
stroking, pulling at the dildo, trying to get her back to me. I
nodded.
Softly,
“Good girl. Now...this is just the first step; earning the right
to learn my name.”
I
nodded. Eager. Command me.
She
snapped her fingers and pointed down to the pillow, “Get on your
knees and suck it. If you suck to my satisfaction, like a good whore,
if I like how you gag on it, choke on it...like a good slut...then I
will tell you my name. Now...get on your knees and suck it!”
I
nodded. Still stroking it. And I looked down and then up. Just as I
was about to go to my knees, she slapped me. My cap flew off of my
head to the floor.
After
the initial shock and stinging pain, my cheek grew deliciously warm.
Wide eyed, I stared at her...but I never stopped stroking.
She put
a finger in my face, “When I give you an order, you obey
immediately!”
I
nodded. She slapped my other cheek. Lovely stinging pain. The dull
and warm throb afterwards. I licked my lips. It felt so good...
I
dropped to my knees, landing on the pillow. Both of my small hands on
the giant, fake cock in front of me. I licked my lips.
I moved
forward, unsure how to get in my mouth. After two more false starts,
I moved in and felt a sudden and exquisite pain as my head was jerked
back by my hair.
“When
I tell you to suck it, you FUCKING SUCK IT!!!”
With
each word she slapped me. Each word, each cheek. My eyes rolled into
my head, I was barely hanging on, hands still on the strap-on. Mouth
agape, loving, just loving the pain.
When she
was done, while my eyes were unfocused, as I slipped right into
subspace with a tiny whimper and moan, she grabbed my head with both
hands.
She
thrusted that huge, thick, black dildo right into my tiny mouth,
stretching it, filling my mouth , pushing over my tongue, smashing
into the back of my throat, charging into my throat.
My hands
dropped. I slumped. Held up only by her hands and her big, black
phallus jamming my mouth. I gave up. I didn't care anymore.
My eyes
half-lidded. Drool pouring out over my lower lip in strands. She
fucked my face. Fucked it hard. My hands feebly slapped at her legs,
but that just encouraged her.
Soon,
the only noise I was making was a guk-guk-guking sound. She
just held my head and it went as far down my throat as she could get it. It
was so big, so thick, no air came in.
My body
panicked as it lost air. Again, slapping uselessly and without
strength at her legs and thighs. Growing weaker, eyes rolled back.
Until my hands gave up. My body gave up, little jerks at it fought
for air. Tears running down my cheeks...
Suddenly,
she pulled out and delicious air came in. She let go of my head and I
fell to the floor on my side. Gasping for air, body spasming.
Coughing, crying a little. Unable to move.
In my
peripheral vision, I saw the strap-on gear thump to the hardwood
floor. And then I felt her hand stroking my hair, my arm. A soothing
voice calling me a good girl, I did so well. She leaned in closer,
the scent of jasmine. She whispered her name to me.
Then she
helped me to my knees. She held me, rocking me a little. Letting me
recover in her jacketed arms.
After a
few minutes, she asked me softly, “What's my name?”
I
snuggled into her and said, “Mistress Kiyone.”
