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Sensitive Research Ch. 01

By: Bob_Aganoush



This is the opening chapter in a multi-part story, which sets the stage for the rest of the story.

**********

I sat on a small metal folding chair, not the most comfortable setting, but it was what was available. It was dark in the room, which had no windows, but for a little bit of light coming through approximately an inch-and-a-half gap between two solid sliding doors. My portfolio with a pad of papers sat balanced on my knees, with one of those little book lights attached to it, to provide me with enough light with which to read. I sat back in the chair making myself as comfortable as possible, because I knew that once the session started, I would be leaning forward for anywhere from one to two hours in order to see as much of the action as possible.

After waiting about five minutes, I heard the door in the other room open, and I slid forward to peer through the gap. I saw a woman walk in, move to the center of the room, and turn and face the door from where she entered. I began taking my notes, the third such session in my research study.

She bowed her head, and moved her hands behind her back, clasping them. Before she turned away from me, I got enough of a glance to see that she appeared to be about my age, early 40s, white, and looked what most people would describe as a "typical suburban housewife." She carried "baby weight," that little bit extra in her hips, ass, and breasts that typify women who have had a baby or two. The extra weight on her was not unattractive by any means, in fact, it made her look healthy and vibrant. I had not yet received the survey that she, like all research subjects had been asked to complete, so I didn't have her exact height and weight and didn't know if she did in fact have children. But the extra weight didn't look bad on her at all, and I thought for a woman her age, she looked very good. 

She was dressed in casual, but expensive-looking clothes, and had flats on. Her long blonde hair was pulled back in a light ponytail, and she had elegant jewelry on - large diamond earrings, a necklace, and bangle bracelets, one of which had many diamonds on it - jewelry that looked too expensive for my budget as a college professor. She wore light makeup, and appeared as if she were dressed for doing errands in town for the afternoon, which may have been exactly what she had been doing before coming here.

After a few minutes of watching her standing there motionlessly, I heard the door open again. In walked my other research subject, who went by the name Mistress Cecilia. I knew from my interview with her that she was 35, and she was white as well, but was dressed much more provocatively in a black bustier which thrust her large breasts forward and exposed the top half of each one to just above her areola. Below that were black hip hugger shorts that went just to the top of her thighs, barely covering her ass. Her brown hair too was pulled back in a ponytail, but a much tighter and more severe one than her client. Her makeup was also heavier and more exaggerated. Her black patent leather boots went to mid-thigh, and with their three inch heels, she looked to be about 6 feet tall, allowing her to tower over her subject by at least a half foot. She was more height-weight proportionate than her client, 

All of this information about Mistress Cecilia - who I shortened to "MC" in my notes for the sake of brevity - was recorded in my notepad as well. I much preferred to take notes on my laptop, as I did in the first two sessions, I observed, rather than having to transcribe the written notes. But MC explained that this client liked no background music or other noise in the room during her session, and she was afraid that the tapping of my fingers on the keyboard would distract her, so I agreed to take the notes in writing.

She stood in front of her client for a few moments, just looking at her. She then walked around her once, looking up and down her body. She returned to the front of her, and said in a quiet but strong voice, "Undress. Everything, including your jewelry. Now."

The client, who I had assigned the number 1-03 to represent the third client of domme number one, immediately began complying without lifting her head and looking MC in the eye. She moved quickly, but not in too rushed a manner, to remove all of her jewelry and place it on a small table that was positioned at the side of the room. My narrow field of view through the gap in the sliding doors still allowed me to see most of the room, other than the immediate corners closest to me. Thus, I had no difficulty observing subject 1-03 as she put the jewelry on the table, and then reached behind her to lower the zipper in the back of her dress. She let the dress fall to her ankles, and stepped out of it, folding it carefully and placing it on the table. This was followed by her flats, which she removed from her feet and placed them under the table. She then reached behind her, undoing the clasp of her bra, and with a small lean forward, let it fall off of her shoulders and her breasts, and placed it on the table. The last piece of clothing was her panties, which too were placed on the table.

As she walked back to the spot she had left in front of MC only a few moments before, now totally naked, it struck me that she showed absolutely no hesitation in complying with her Mistress's commands. She knew I was sitting there observing; all of the research subjects had to sign an informed consent form which stated that I would be observing the session. They of course had the opportunity to refuse, and at the outset of the research project, I was worried about my ability to recruit the clients into the study. But to my surprise, when presented with the opportunity and upon understanding the guarantee of confidentiality, so far almost none had refused. Subject 1-03 was one of those who agreed, and she didn't seem at all fazed by the fact that I was sitting only feet away watching everything that was going on.

When she was back in the spot in front of MC, who had not moved but had simply watched her undress, I had the chance to see subject 1-03 without her clothes on. As I had observed before, she did carry what looked to be about 20-03 pounds above what most people would consider an ideal weight for someone of her height. 

At age 43, I was probably roughly the same age as her, and I did not have children. But I was a little envious, as now that she was naked I could see that I was probably 10-20 pounds heavier than her and I did not believe the extra weight looked as good on me as it did on her. Her ass (I tended to use vernacular language in my notes, as it was generally quicker and easier than using technical terms, and I could translate them later as I wrote up my notes - they also generally had the advantage of being shorter, and easier to write or type) was quite full and round, but it had a lovely shape to it, and was not out of proportion to her body. The same was true of her breasts; I had seen a quick glance of them as she returned to the spot in front of MC, and they were quite large, larger than mine in fact, but they had very little droop to them. She had a soft face, and her skin all over her body looked flawless. All in all, she was quite attractive.

When she returned to the spot in the center of the room, MC once again walked around her, looking her over. The client still kept her head down, an act that I knew from my background research many submissives had been taught.

After circling her once, MC nodded approvingly, and walked to the opposite side of the room from where her client had left her clothes. She opened a cabinet mounted on the wall, and took out something that I could not see. She walked back to subject 1-03, and raising her hands to her, proceeded to put something around her neck. When she dropped her hands again, I could see that it was some sort of collar, like a dog collar. She then returned to the same cabinet and came back with something else in her hands. As she reached up and attached it to the collar, I could see that it was a leash, which she held in the other end of in her hand.

As I furiously took notes about all of this, I heard MC say to the client, "Down on all fours." The woman immediately complied, putting her naked body down on her hands and knees on the carpet, while MC continued to hold onto the leash.

**********

I am a social psychologist at a major research university in the United States. I had completed my doctorate eight years ago at an Ivy League university, and in the subsequent period that I had been a faculty member, I had established a strong reputation for the research I have done on individuals at the margins of society. This had included child abusers and their victims, victims of spousal abuse, and people with severe eating disorders. This was not easy research to do; it was often hard to find subjects, and once I did, getting them to trust a stranger enough to open up to them was a challenge. But I had worked hard to develop the trust that would allow me to do research that was very well respected and has been published in some of the nation's leading psychology journals.

I had long been curious about the BDSM scene. I had not had any firsthand experience, but had a couple of friends who had shared conversations about their experiences with me, and I had read a few articles in both scholarly journals as well as the popular press. But I had never pursued the subject as a potential research study before I had tenure, because I knew that it would be too difficult and time consuming. I knew there was no way I would be able to get the articles published on that topic that I would need to cement my reputation and earn tenure. So I had put it on the shelf with the intent of returning to it after I was tenured, when I would have the time, energy, and ability to fight the battles necessary to start a research study on the topic.

Well that time had finally come. I had earned early tenure three years ago because of my strong research record. Shortly after, I had begun the outlines of what a scholarly study on BDSM would look like. With all of the publicity about the 50 Shades of Gray book series, I know that many women who had never heard of BDSM in the past, or may have heard of it but knew little about it, were now discussing it in book groups, at coffee klatches, and in other settings. Thus, I decided that the time was right to work on the outlines of the study.

There was some scholarly research out there about BDSM, but most of it focused on male doms and their clients, both male and female. There was a little less out there about female dommes and their clients, and almost all of that was focused on male subs. Where there was a gap was in studies about dommes and female clients, so this is what I decided to study, hoping that I could make a real contribution to the literature. I also chose this because I felt that as a female, it would be easier for me to gain the trust of the research subjects if I was the same gender as them.

It took me almost two full years, and four revisions of my application, to battle our university's Institutional Review Board to get permission to conduct the study. No research study could be conducted without first gaining the approval of the IRB. In an almost-unprecedented action, I was even required to come in for a meeting with the members of the IRB. 

When I had first proposed to videotape not just my interviews with my subjects, both dommes and their clients, but the sessions between them as well, I was met with strong resistance from the IRB. As one old biddy from the English Department said, "I am not going to be a party to allowing a professor at our university to create blue movies." Yes, she actually said "blue movies," like it was the 1960s or something. But nothing I could do would convince them to allow me to videotape the sessions, so I had to give up on that and rely on direct observation instead. They also would not allow me to use my doctoral student research assistants to observe the sessions. They raised objections about how this could be damaging to them, and they insisted that they could only be used to help conduct the interviews, transcribe them (and my observation notes), and do the data analysis. So I had no choice but to agree, and to do all the observations of sessions between the dommes and their subs myself.

The other major restriction they put on the study was that it could not be conducted in our metropolitan area. They were concerned that as much as I would guarantee confidentiality to all of the subjects, there as an outside chance that when presenting or writing about the research, that someone could be identified from the information that I presented about them. They felt that the promises of confidentiality would be stronger if I did my research in other locations around the United States.

The major problem with this is that it would greatly increase the costs of the study. Needless to say, it was not going to be easy to find funders for this research. No government agency was going to touch it, and I knew it was unlikely my university would do so, for fear of gaining the religious and political right attacking it. After some digging around, however, I was able to find an open-minded and progressive family foundation that was willing to provide the resources necessary for me to travel to four cities around the country to conduct my site visits there. So, armed with some funding, and after a long battle the blessing (or more accurately, the acquiescence) of our IRB, I was able to start the study. 

Somewhat to my surprise, it was not that difficult to recruit the research subjects. In the age of the Internet, it was easy to locate dommes in other cities. I contacted a number directly, explaining who I was, providing a link to my website at the university so they could see I was a legitimate scholar, and explained what I was hoping to accomplish in the study. A few wanted nothing to do with me, and I decided a few were just a little too shady to deal with, but the vast majority said they were willing to at least talk to me about the study. 

So following some phone and Skype calls, I was able to recruit eight dommes in the first city. I knew there'd be some attrition during the study, so I was hoping to end up with at least five who stayed in the study to the end. And I was hoping that each would connect me with at least five clients who would be willing to complete a survey, let me observe their session, and interview them about it afterwards. Thus, I hoped to have at least 25 subs in each of the four cities, for a total of 100 across the country. It was an ambitious agenda, and I knew it would take a while to complete it, but I felt this was a real opportunity to do some groundbreaking research.

I was on my first trip out of town, and MC was the first domme on my list. I was conducting my observation of the third client of hers that I was able to recruit into the study.

**********

Subject 1-03 was on her hands and knees, collar around her neck, with a leash attached to it. MC began to walk around the room, leading her by holding the leash. She wasn't walking quickly; she sauntered at a leisurely pace, and wherever she went, her client followed along on her hands and knees. As she crawled, I saw her large breasts sway back and forth, gravity pulling them toward the ground. I put in my observation notes that she did not appear to be in any pain or distress, she was in fact fairly nonchalant in her crawling behind the leash. As she went around the room, with her knees and hands moving along, I was able to see that she appeared to have very little, if any pubic hair. 

After no more than a minute of this, MC stopped in the middle of the room, and said, "Sit." Subject 1-03 was now facing me, and she lifted her hands off the floor and sat back on her haunches. I could now see her face and front of her body more clearly, and her legs were spread enough that my initial impression was correct - she was totally devoid of pubic hair. And now that I could inspect them more closely, I could see that her breasts were truly magnificent. As I noted before, they were larger in cup size than my own 38C breasts, and they stood prominently on her chest as she sat on her haunches. Each had an areola the size of a silver dollar and a lovely mocha brown color, setting them off quite clearly from the rest of the breast. Her nipples were also quite prominent; I could not tell if they were erect from arousal, but they were each more than a half-inch across and even longer than that, and were a crimson red color.

I found myself somewhat mesmerized looking at this woman, and I also came to realize somewhat to my surprise, aroused. I had approached my first two observations very clinically, being new to this research subject, and I was concentrating so intently on capturing what was happening in my notes that I had not thought that much about the eroticism of the situation. But now, this being the third time I was seeing one woman sexually dominate another, I was getting more comfortable with the situation, and I found myself being drawn into the eroticism of it all.

MC stepped toward her sub, and stood in front of her. The client still had her head bowed. MC said, "Worship me, my pet." The sub leaned forward, and began planting light kisses on the patent leather of her domme's boots. After doing this for a few minutes, MC said, "Higher," and she began to lightly tug on the leash, pulling her sub further up her legs. Her client continued to kiss the boots, but then reaching above them to her mistress's bare legs. It appeared that this was an activity she was very familiar with, as she seemed to know exactly what to do without much prodding from the domme.

She continued up her legs, kissing all sides of each bare leg, slowly edging upward. As she continued past her domme's knees, MC spread her legs ever so slightly, giving her sub easier access to kiss all around her legs. As subject 1-03 continued, I looked at her nipples, and saw they had grown even more erect and larger than they had been before. I could also see her breathing was becoming more rapid, and these two observations together led me to conclude that she was growing quite aroused at being forced to worship her mistress in this fashion.

As much as I tried to stay detached and clinical, I found my arousal rising as well. The way that this sub seemed to enjoy the worship of her mistress's body was incredibly erotic, and I found myself with my pen raised off the pad, just staring, wondering how high she would be going with her kisses. 

She was less than an inch from the bottom of MC's shorts, and I was silently begging her to continue upward. Just as her kisses began to touch the shorts, the sub reached upward, appearing to want to push them up, or even pull them down - I couldn't tell which. 

But as her hands touched the shorts, MC said in a stern but quiet voice, "Stop."

The sub immediately pulled her hands away, and sat back again on her haunches.

MC continued, "You know the rule, my pet. No touching with your hands unless you are given permission ahead of time. For this act of transgression, you will be punished."

Without saying anything else, subject 1-03 crawled over toward the table where she had earlier left her belongings, stood up, and leaned the upper half of her body across the table, resting her head on her crossed hands and flattening her large breasts against the table. The leash lay beside her on the table, still attached to the collar. This left her ample ass sticking out and prominently displayed to her mistress.

MC walked over to the cabinet on the other side of the room, and retrieved something. Again, I couldn't see what it was until she walked over and stood behind her sub. I saw then that she had what looked like a ping pong paddle in her hand. She leaned over her sub, and I heard her say in a quiet voice, "Spread your legs, my pet. I want to see you wide open back there."


Sensitive Research Ch. 01



Subject 1-03 complied, spreading her legs so that her feet were about four feet apart, and as her mistress suggested, this forced open the cleft of her ass from where it started below her waist all the way down to her bare pussy.

"You know what's coming, don't you pet?"

"Yes, mistress." It was clear that she knew well this part of the scene.

"Good. Now I want you to count for me."

MC waited about 10 or 15 seconds, building up the anticipation. She slowly swung her hand back, and then quickly forward, planting the paddle right in the middle of her sub's left ass cheek. A sharp "smack" resounded through the room, and her sub grunted a guttural "Uh," and said, "One."

As the domme removed the paddle and pulled her hand back for another blow, I could see a faint red mark on her sub's left ass cheek. The next blow landed on exactly the same spot on the right cheek, with the same response: "Uh, two." I somehow managed to continue to take my notes as a total of ten blows rained down upon the sub. 

After the tenth, MC said, "That's it for now, my pet. What do you say?"

"Thank you, Mistress."

As I looked at the sub's ass, now with pale red marks all over it, I was pretty sure I could see damp tracks running down the inside of each leg. There was no doubt in my mind now that the sub was clearly aroused by this paddling, and I had to admit to myself that I too felt a dampness between my own legs. I was shocked; while I had read some of the BDSM literature, including the bestseller 50 Shades of Gray as preparation for my research study, I had not found any of it particularly erotic. But now, sitting here watching it live in person, I realized just how erotic it was. 

I pulled my attention back to what was happening in the room, and I saw MC standing in the center of the room again after having returned the paddle to the cabinet. "Now that you've taken your punishment so well, you have earned a reward. Come over here."

The sub lifted herself from the table and crawled over and sat again at her mistress's feet.

"First you need a little adornment, however. I see some of your beautiful jewelry on the table, and I think you'd look better if you were just a little less naked. But rather than putting your jewelry back on, I have something nicer for you."

MC held out her right hand, and opened the clenched fist. I could not see clearly what was in her hand, but subject 1-03's eyes got wide when she saw what was in front of her.

MC took what was in her hand and moved it toward her sub's right breast. As she did so, it was clear what she had - a set of nipple clamps. She affixed the first one to her sub's distended nipple, pulling it out with her other hand and rolling it between her fingers a few times. As she did this, the silence in the room allowed me to hear her sub's light moan. Her nipple seemed to swell even further as her mistress applied the clamp to it.

As she did so, I could see that there was a silver-colored chain connecting the two clamps. MC performed the same massaging of the left nipple, eliciting the same reaction from the client. She then applied the second clamp, leaving the chain dangling between the two of them.

"That's better," MC said. "Now you look more appropriately decorated."

"You may now do what you had tried before, my pet. You may remove my shorts."

The sub looked up, and reached her hands up to place them on both sides of MC's shorts. Before they got there, however, she was interrupted by MC who slapped at her left hand and chuckled.

"No, silly, you may not use your hands. Use your teeth."

Her sub withdrew her hands, and sitting up higher, she leaned forward, put her head under the bottom of the short bustier, and placed her mouth on the waistband of her mistress's shorts.

**********

As I described earlier, I am 43, eight years into my career as a professor. I came to academe later in life after working at a well-respected university press, primarily as an editorial assistant. I enjoyed the publishing business, but after about five years in I knew it was something I would not want to spend my entire life doing. I found that the books I was most interested in were those in psychology, even though my undergraduate degree was in English. After contemplating next steps for a couple of years, I enrolled in a doctoral program in psychology at age 30. Five years later I graduated and started my academic career.

I am single, never having married. I have had a couple of long-term relationships with men, one in my youth while I was working at the university press, and a second while in graduate school. Each ended as I transitioned into the next stage in my life. The first boyfriend wasn't willing to relocate with me when I left for graduate school, and the strain of maintaining a long-distance relationship was too great, causing us to drift apart during my first year. 

The second relationship met a similar fate. We were in graduate school together, and as often happens in many situations like that, we ended up with faculty jobs across the country from each other. This time I knew there was no way I could maintain a long-distance relationship, particularly with the stress of being a new assistant professor, so we bid farewell at commencement and have remained good friends ever since. He has since married and had two children, and we enjoy seeing each other once or twice a year at the various psychology conferences or on the rare times I have had the opportunity to visit him and his family.

There have been no serious men in my life since. I found my life incredibly harried, between my research, teaching, and professional travel, and never seem to have had the time and energy to invest in a serious relationship. I've dated a number of men since coming to this university, but nothing lasted for more than a few dates. I had some good, close friends - mostly women, though a couple of men - and this seems to have been meeting my emotional needs for now. Most of these friends were married, but some were either single like me or divorced, and I had had the opportunity to travel on vacations with some of the women. I had pretty much resigned myself to living the rest of my life as a single woman. I rationalized this by telling myself that I was dedicated to my career and my research, but in the pit of my heart I still held out hope for more.

**********

As subject 1-03 began trying to pull down MC's shorts with her teeth, I was curious to see where this scene was going. In the previous two scenes with MC that I had observed, each revolved solely around her disciplining the sub, and even though the two subs were in various stages of undress during the scenes, MC had never taken off any of her clothes. This one was clearly different. I didn't know if this sub was special in some way, or what.

The two women were sideways toward me, no more than six feet away from where I was sitting and peering through the narrow crack in the doors. I briefly wondered if MC had positioned the two of them at that angle on purpose, so I would have the best view of what was about to occur. It wasn't easy for the sub to get the shorts down in this fashion. She could go no more than an inch or two on one side before she had to switch to the other, repeating the action on the opposite side. Finally, though, she was able to work them far enough down MC's legs that gravity aided her and they dropped on the floor.

As the shorts fell to the floor, I could see that MC was naked beneath them. Even though she was sideways to me, I could see that she too was devoid of hair, perfectly smooth around her pubic area. And from the side I could see that she had a small but nicely curved ass, befitting her tall and thin frame.

MC gazed down on her sub, waiting, while subject 1-03 looked up at her. All it took was a raised eyebrow from MC, and her client bent down, putting her teeth back on the shorts. As she did so, MC stepped out of them, and the client, still clasping them between her teeth, crawled over to the table. She kneeled, deposited the shorts on the table, and crawled back to sit on her haunches in front of MC again. It was clear that this was part of the game that had been played many times before.

MC reached down and picked up her sub's leash. With a tug, she pulled her head upward about level with her crotch, moving her into a kneeling position, while saying in a stern voice, "Do not touch me until I give you permission. I want you to just appreciate me."

She then pulled the leash forward just a bit, placing her sub's face right in front of her crotch, but not touching it. I could see the sub gazing upon her mistress's crotch, and could see her breathing in, as if to absorb the scent from her pussy. As she breathed, the chain between her nipple clamps swung back and forth gently.

I didn't look at my watch, but it must have been at least three minutes that they stayed in this position. Everything was perfectly still in the room, and it was so quiet that I did not even want to write on my pad, for fear that the noise would disturb the participants. My initial thought upon observing this was that it takes an awful lot of mental and physical discipline to be a domme; MC was standing perfectly still, unmoving, for the entire three minutes. It might not sound like a long time, but it seemed an eternity in that setting.

My second thought was one I had felt just a few minutes earlier - how erotic the scene was. For some reason I found myself wondering what it was like to be this sub, what it was like to be so close to another woman's shaved pussy like that, what it must look like, how it smelled. Did she want more, or did it meet her needs just kneeling there so close to her mistress? What caused a woman to engage in this kind of behavior? 

I knew what some of the psychology literature had to say about the motivations behind those who engaged in BDSM behavior in general, but the literature was largely silent on female-on-female BDSM activities. Thus, I was hoping to explore this further in my interviews with the clients.

After the roughly three minutes were up, MC said, "Do not move." She let go of the leash, dropping it to the floor, and as instructed her client stayed exactly where she was on her knees. I saw MC step back just a few inches, take her hand that had just let go of the leash, and reach down between her legs. I couldn't see exactly what she was doing because of my angle of viewing, but a few seconds later I saw her hand come back out, with one finger extended. There was a faint gossamer-like thread that for the briefest of moments connected her finger back to her pussy. As she further extended her hand, however, the thread broke, and I can see her finger glistening in the light. 

She extended the finger, holding it directly under the nose of her sub, who almost immediately took a deep breath in. "That's right, my pet, I want you to smell my sweet scent," MC said.

Her sub inhaled again, as if to capture as much of the aroma into her nostrils as she could.

"I bet you'd like more than to just smell that, wouldn't you my dear?"

Her sub nodded her head lightly up and down, being careful not to make contact with her mistress's finger.

MC laughed. "Well, if you're a very good sub, then perhaps you will have that opportunity. For now, though, I'll just leave you with this." And she took her finger, and ran it across her sub's skin, just under her nose and above her upper lip, as if to leave the scent there for her to enjoy. 

MC then stepped back in front of subject 1-03, so that her crotch was once again right in front of the sub's face. She reached up, and began undoing the snaps on the front of her bustier, not moving the bottom half of her body while she did so, so that her sub remained frozen right in front of her crotch.

After undoing the last snap, she pushed the sides of the bustier apart, exposing her large breasts. I tried to remain clinical in my observations, but I had to admit that they were beautiful - they were quite large for a relatively thin woman, but there not out of proportion with her body. They were milky white, and each one was topped by a smallish, light brown areola and a reddish-brown nipple. Once again, for the second time in just a matter of minutes, I found myself envious of another woman's body. 

Even though her client continued to face forward, I suspect that she knew what was happening above her field of view. While she may have been tempted to look up at her mistress's now fully exposed breasts, she resisted the temptation, most likely in order to avoid being punished once more.

MC reached down, and lightly stroked the hair and ear of her sub, as the woman continued to gaze into her mistress's crotch no more than an inch in front of her. She then reached a little further down, and grabbed the silver chain that connected the nipple clamps, and gave a short tug upward. Her sub gasped monetarily, as the chain pulled on each clamp, distending the woman's nipples even further. She did this two more times, eliciting a gasp each time from her sub, but she kept her gaze forward and did not move her head. I was impressed with the discipline that this woman showed, even in the face of intense stimulation and what I assume was some pain.

After doing this for a minute or so, MC reached under her client's chin, and gently lifted it upward, so that she was looking into her mistress's eyes. She could no doubt see those beautiful breasts displayed right above her head as well, and her eyes seemed to light up at the view. They stood like that, gazing at each other for at least a minute. Then, MC spoke. "Close your eyes, my pet, and open your mouth."

The sub immediately complied, waiting attentively with her mouth wide open. But for about 90 seconds, or may even have been as much as two minutes, nothing happened - no movement from MC or her sub, not even a twitch from either one, as the domme stood there still holding her sub's chin. It was so quiet in the room, that I ceased my note taking, and thought I could actually hear my own heart beating. My curiosity grew, wondering what the next move would be. I wondered if subject 1-03 was equally curious, or whether this was another part of the scene that had been played out many times before.

Finally, MC removed her finger from the sub's chin, and stepped backward a few feet. She then shrugged off her bustier, dropping it on the floor behind her. Now fully naked, other than for her boots, I could see she was a magnificent woman. Tall, slim but not too thin, and full-breasted with a gorgeous ass, she was an incredible sight.

Slowly bending the upper half of her body forward, she moved her right breast ever so slowly toward her sub's head. As the tit approached her head, MC carefully navigated her nipple directly into her client's mouth, rubbing it along both her top and bottom lip as she did so.

Her sub did not move her mouth as the nipple was there, suspended between her lips. I thought this showed incredible restraint, as I'm sure she was tempted to close her lips around it, tongue it, or both. But she just stayed there, suspended in that position.

This time it was only about a minute before MC spoke. "Very nicely done, my sweet, you are doing a very good job waiting for permission. You may now go ahead." In a matter of a split second, her sub closed her lips around the nipple, and began sucking away. I couldn't see for sure, but I imagine she was also tonguing it at the same time. The sub had a look of pure ecstasy on her face, as if she were tasting the most wonderful food she had ever experienced. 

The eroticism of this scene was incredible - the one woman waiting ever so patiently to feast upon her domme's breast, and then lavishing it with loving attention once granted permission. This made me wonder about what would cause someone to behave in such a manner, to submit themselves so willingly and with what appeared to be every emotion she owned, to this other woman. I had done enough background reading to understand the basics of a submissive personality, but seeing the behavior in person like this was so different than just reading about it. I looked forward to my opportunity to interview this woman (who had previously consented to be interviewed when she had agreed to allow me to watch her session) so that I could explore more her motivations and feelings.

My attention returned to the adjacent room as I saw MC lift herself back up, her nipple coming out of her client's mouth with wet-sounding "pop." The nipple was in fact covered with the sub's saliva, confirming my suspicion that she was using not just her lips but also her tongue to lave it. MC smiled down at her sub, patted her on the head, and said, "Go lie down on the bed, face up."

Subject 1-03 got on her hands and knees once again, and crawled, leash dragging behind her, over to what looked like a double bed on the same side of the room as the wall-mounted cabinet that housed MC's implements. When she got to the bed, she climbed up on it, and lay down as she was instructed. I had to look a bit sideways through the crack in the two doors in front of me, but I still had a good view of that side of the room. Her head was on the far side of where I was, so as I looked at her I was peering right between her legs, which she had spread about three feet apart at her feet.

MC watched this, and then walked to the cabinet and retrieved some things that I once again could not see. She walked the few feet to the bed, and dropped some of them on it. She then reached up to her sub's head, and I saw that she had a blindfold in her hand, which she proceeded to put on her. She then turned her attention to her client's feet, and gently pushed them further apart, about as far as they would go comfortably go. She then reached down to the pile of things she had dropped on the bed, and I saw her pick up what looked like Velcro cuffs of some kind. She put one on the sub's right ankle, and then stretched out a cord attached to it and tied the other end to a leg of the bed. She then did the same with the other ankle. MC then picked up two more cuffs from the bed, and similarly restrained her sub's wrists, pulling them away from her body.

Her sub was now fully restrained, though there was enough slack so that she could pull her arms and legs just an inch or so. The clamps were still attached to her sub's nipples, though now lying down her large breasts spilled down the side of her torso, pulling the chain a little more taut. With her legs spread so wide, I had a very nice view of the sub's clearly aroused pussy. Her juices had begun to run down her inner thighs, and presented a sheen on her outer labia, which appeared quite engorged. I wasn't sure how much of her arousal was due to the position she was in, or from the sucking on her mistress's nipple a few minutes ago, or a combination of the two. But whatever the catalyst, there was no question that she was now quite turned on.

MC now sat on the side of the bed, and reached down and picked up the last item she had placed in the pile. When I realized what it was, I almost gasped audibly; thankfully I was able to stifle it, as I was trying hard not to give any reminder to either of them that everything they were doing was being observed, in order to maintain the fidelity of my research. MC had in her hand some kind of vibrator or dildo, and it was quite clear what she was going to do to the naked woman who was spread eagled next to her.

Watching this, I became aware of my own increasing arousal. While I was not yet at the highly-charged state of subject 1-03, there was no question that my body was responding to the scene in front of me. I had never seen anything like this, not even in porn videos. I had watched some porn in the past, as one of my ex-boyfriends was into it. But I had never seen any videos with BDSM like this, and I knew that even if I had, they would not have been able to hold a candle to the scene playing out in front of me at this moment. My own wetness was now quite evident, at least to me, as I felt my panties getting soaked. My own nipples were becoming more erect as well, and were pushing hard against my bra. I hadn't reacted nearly this way at all after the first two sessions I observed, but this one was having a very different effect on me. I thought to myself that I was thankful I had worn dark slacks, so that when I saw MC after the session, my own stimulation would hopefully not be so evident to her.




Sensitive Research Ch. 01



My thoughts and the quiet in the room were interrupted by the buzzing of the vibrator, which MC had just turned on. As she began to approach her sub's body, I could see a smile cross the domme's face.

**********

Beside the relatively short telephone conversation that I had had with MC when I first recruited her into my study, I had conducted one face-to-face interview with her when I arrived two days earlier in her city. This was the introductory meeting, where I gathered some basic information from her that went beyond what was available to potential clients on her website. I asked her some questions about her background, how she got into the business, what other jobs she had held, etc. I was a little surprised to hear that she had a bachelor's degree in English, like me. She had attended a women's college as an undergraduate.

As with all of my subjects, both dommes and their clients, she was promised full confidentiality. She would be identified by a pseudonym in my research (not even using her professional name, Mistress Cecilia, even though I knew that was not her real name), and none of the cities would even be identified by name.

We were seated in the living room of her house, which was actually in the close-in suburbs of the city. She was comfortably dressed, wearing a light pullover sweater and a pair of jeans. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and she wore little or no makeup. We were sitting in overstuffed easy chairs, facing each other from a few feet away. Looking around the room, and the setting, I could have been visiting a friend for tea or coffee; nothing here indicated that this woman made a living by sexually dominating other people in a room elsewhere in this house. As I was working, I was dressed more professionally, in a blouse and skirt.

Like most of the dommes that I had already recruited into the study, she had both male and female clients. She was bisexual, and she told me had been since her teen years, so she was comfortable in intimate settings with both men and women. But she told me that she preferred female clients for a variety of reasons, and I asked her why. 

"First is the safety issue," she responded. "As carefully as I try to vet my clients, generally relying on referrals from other customers, I still find that the rare times I run into problems with a client, it is always a man. I have never felt uncomfortable or unsafe around a female client."

"Second, I find it easier to connect with women. I have had a variety of both male and female lovers throughout my life, but I have generally bonded more emotionally with women, and I find the same is true in my work. They also tend to be more repeats than the men, and schedule sessions more frequently, so they're better for my business." She had already told me earlier that she was single and had never been married, though she had had a number of long-term relationships. She was currently not in one, however.

"Third," she continued, "the women clients are easier to schedule. I find that most of my male subs are married men who are seeing me on the side, mostly because their wives have no interest in or desire for their need to be dominated. So that means they're often trying to schedule in a session at lunchtime, or immediately after work before they head home to their families, and frankly, sometimes it's just a pain in the neck to schedule them."

"My women subs, on the other hand, tend more to be single, or if they are married, are not working and have more flexibility in their schedules. Their husbands are off working all day, the kids are in school, and they have the luxury of more time on their hands to schedule sessions, and they tend to schedule longer sessions with me as well."

"Can I interrupt for a second," I asked her.

"Of course dear, what is it?"

At first I felt slightly belittled being called "dear," but I glossed over it and just chalked it up to her trying to put me at ease. "You are located here outside of the center city area, so do your clients mostly come from this area?"

"Oh no, they come from all over the metropolitan area. Some are from around here, some from the further out suburbs, and many live in the city. You'd be surprised how many of my clients from the city show up here for a session in a Town Car that sits in the driveway waiting, and then takes them back," she said with a little smile.

"Doesn't all the traffic in and out raise the suspicion of your neighbors?" I asked. "I imagine that out here in the suburbs people can be a little nosy."

"It really hasn't been a problem for me," she replied. "You have to remember, it's not like there are 20 people a day coming in and out, so I'm not worried that people will think I'm selling drugs here," she said with laugh. "Most of my sessions last from one to two hours, so the most I generally have in any given day is two or three. More typically, it's just one a day."

I pressed a little more on this issue, because I was curious and intrigued about how she could operate her business out here in the middle of the suburbs. "Do your neighbors ever ask what it is you do?"

"Oh, of course. I mostly keep to myself and don't interact with them, but on occasion you can't avoid those kinds of conversations that arise when you're talking with neighbors. If the topic does come up, I just tell them that I do specialized therapy." She smiled again. "And in a way, that is very truthful."

"And they don't push for more information?"

"Well, one or two have, but I just tell them I can't say any more because of therapist-patient confidentiality rules. That usually stops the conversation cold."

"Okay, thanks," I responded. "I had interrupted your list of why you preferred female clients, so please go on."

"Okay, there is just one more on my list. The last reason I prefer female clients," she said with a wink, "is that they don't have the one-and-done problem."

I looked at her somewhat blankly, having no clue what she was talking about. "One-and-done?" I asked.

She leaned forward, smiled, and patted my knee, below the bottom of my skirt and below where my laptop was perched in my lap. "I assume you're straight, right Professor Phillips?" Her hand felt warm on my bare leg, and as she drew close, I caught a whiff of the perfume she was wearing. I couldn't place the scent, but it smelled very expensive and classy.

"Yes, I am," I replied. 

"So I assume you've had enough experience with men to know how they are - once they have their orgasm, their desire immediately drops like a dead body thrown off a roof." She gave a knowing smile, as if we were two friends sharing a secret.

I now understood what she meant, having had experienced this many times with the men I had dated. Too often I found that after they came, I was left hanging not having achieved my orgasm yet, while they were either snoring, reaching for a cigarette, or hopping out of bed to grab a beer. I'm not sure if this was a reflection of all men, or just the ones I dated.

"Yes, they do tend to be like that, I know," I said, smiling back at her.

She removed her hand from my knee and sat back in her chair again. "Well, with the men, once they have their orgasm, their session is done. Many of my female clients, on the other hand, will go much longer, even if they have had multiple orgasms. And the longer the session and the more sexual it is, the more I charge."

I was taken aback by this statement, surprised to hear her talking about her client's climaxing. I had assumed that this was not part of the services she provided because of the legal issues around prostitution. My understanding of these dommes was that the services they performed stopped short of anything that could fall under the legal definition of "sex," in order to avoid problems with the law. In fact, most of their websites, including MC's, emphasized this limit.

"What do you mean?" I asked her. "I thought that you couldn't allow those kinds of acts."

"Oh dear, you don't get it," she responded, as if she were tutoring a wayward schoolchild. "There are quite a variety of services available, depending upon the client's needs. Remember, it's a very specialized form of therapy that I provide," she continued with a laugh.

"But aren't you worried about being arrested?"

"No, not at all. First of all, I don't expect that any of my clients are going to go running to the local police department to tell them what they are doing with me. As you can imagine, discretion is as important to them as it is to me."

"What about undercover police?" I inquired.

"I don't worry too much about that. As I said, I vet my clients very carefully, and get most of them from personal referrals from others. And with a new client, I won't engage in anything sexual - or at least anything that could get me into legal problems - until I have had at least two or three sessions with them. This gives me a chance to get to know them, and if I'm at all uncomfortable, I won't see them anymore."

"And," she continued, "I also require a different form of financial relationship with clients who want this higher level of services."

"Can you explain what you mean by that?" I asked.

"Sure, I'm happy to explain it for you. But we've been sitting for a little while now, so can I offer you something to drink before we continue?"

"Oh, that's very nice, thank you. I'll just take a soda, diet if you have it."

"Sure, Diet Coke okay?" she offered.

"That'll be fine."

She stood up and walked toward her kitchen. As she did, I admired the look of her jeans, which fit her like a second skin and looked quite expensive, showing off her ass very nicely. As I waited for her to return, I looked around the living room. She had what looked like some very nice antiques and artwork, and the thought occurred to me that she must make a pretty good living to afford these things. She had told me she lived alone, so I assumed everything I saw she had acquired on her own. I hadn't gotten into any details of her finances yet, but her form of "specialized therapy" appeared to be quite lucrative.

She returned after a few minutes with a Diet Coke for me, and a glass of red wine for herself. As she placed my glass on the table next to my chair, her perfume again wafted over me.

"Now where were we?" she said smiling.

I was surprised to find that my mouth was quite dry, so I took a sip of my soda before I continued. "We were talking about your clients who wanted, as you described it, a 'higher' level of service."

"Oh, that's right. Okay, let me explain. You are right, that even with all the vetting of clients that I do, I have to be careful. So like other dommes, we've come up with a financial arrangement that protects us from any charges of prostitution. For women who desire this - and it is generally the women who avail themselves of this arrangement - I do not charge on a fee-for-service basis. Instead, what I do is charge them a monthly membership fee to join a private club that I've created for this purpose. And the members of the club are entitled to these additional activities, which the client and I then engage in as consenting adults."

I thought about this for a few moments, to make sure I understand the arrangement. I took notes as best I could on my laptop.

"So a woman, let's say, who joins this private club, is then entitled to services that a regular fee-for-service client would not get?"

"Correct," MC responded.

"But how do you determine how much to charge for the monthly fee?" I asked.

"Well, it's as much art as science, to be honest," she responded. "I discuss with the client what her interests are, what she is looking for, and how often she wishes to see me. As I said, I only offer this arrangement to clients who I have gotten to know and feel comfortable with, so I have a pretty good sense of what they desire. But we do talk about it so that I have some idea ahead of time. So once I have a sense of what she wants, I then set her monthly fee at a level that I feel is fair compensation for me for the services she wants and for the number of times she expects to see me."

"And once she's joined, you then have a session or sessions with her?"

"Right, and once we've agreed on this, and she's paid her monthly membership fee for the club, we're then just consenting adults who are getting together for some fun."

With this, she gave me a triumphant smile, as if she were the cat who swallowed the canary.

"And this is legal?" I asked.

"I wasn't the one who came up with the idea. Some other dommes that I know from around the country who have been in the business longer than I have came up with this scheme some years ago. And it's been well tested in the courts. When they first tried this out, two or three of them did get arrested by their local police for prostitution. But prosecutors, once they understood the specific arrangements, quickly dropped the charges because they realized there was no way they would have enough evidence to convince a judge or jury to convict. So once this trail was blazed, others of us in the business jumped on board with this model and it works."

I was furiously taking notes, trying to capture as much of this as possible. "And is this part of your business very lucrative?"

MC leaned forward again, as she had earlier, and once again put her hand on my knee. I felt the warmth of her touch once more as she said to me, "It certainly is my dear. Let's just say I live a very comfortable lifestyle, and don't have to put in many hours to enjoy it. And my overhead is relatively low - a room in my house, some soundproofing, some toys, and that's about it."

I now realized why her calling me "dear" made me feel a little comfortable. I realized that this was a term she used quite frequently with her sub in the first session I had observed earlier in that day. Was she purposely addressing me like one of her clients, I wondered?

I tried to shake this feeling off and pay attention as she continued to speak. "My clients, women especially, are willing to pay some hefty monthly membership fees. Some of these women are quite wealthy, and have the resources to pay."

I was quite aware that her hand was still on my knee as she continued her explanation.

"After all, if you were in their shoes, wouldn't you be willing to pay a lot more money for a session that brought you to orgasm?" As she asked this, I realized that she was staring into my eyes. I was somewhat mesmerized, staring back at her, not quite sure how to respond. As I looked, I realized she had beautiful, deep green eyes. Was this a rhetorical question, or was she attempting to probe my desires as if I were one of her clients?

I grew very flustered, and was sure I was blushing terribly. I somehow broke her gaze, and sat back a little further in the upholstered chair, in order to get her hand off my knee. She gave me a wry little smile, I'm sure very aware of the discomfort she inflicted on me.

I didn't answer her question, but instead just mumbled, "Well I'm sure they are willing to pay," and then quickly tried to come up with a question that would allow me to change the topic. I scanned the list of questions I had open on my laptop. I managed to find some innocuous questions about her background, what kinds of jobs she had held before becoming a domme, and the like. After about ten minutes on these questions, I was very relieved to see from the clock on my laptop that the hour we had set aside for the interview had transpired.

"Thank you very much for the time. I appreciate your candor and willingness to share this information with me. I believe we have one more interview scheduled for after my final observation, correct?"

"That's right," she replied, and with another smile she said, "I'll very much look forward to it."

I closed my laptop, put it in my briefcase, and stood up. MC rose as well; I was aware that even in her running shoes, she towered over me by at least six or seven inches. She reached out her hand, took mine in it, and said, "Please don't hesitate to ask me anything you want. I'm an open book to you."

I withdrew my hand and said, "Thank you." As I turned to walk toward the front door, I stumbled a bit on the throw rug in the room. MC reached out a hand and grabbed my arm to help steady me, helping me recover before I went down in a heap, briefcase and all.

"Here, let me help you," she said, as I tried to regain my composure and continue toward the door. She kept her hand on my arm, and I was again aware of the warmth of her skin. Then I felt her other hand on my lower back, as if to help guide me as well. It could have been a totally harmless and helpful move on her part, but I was very self-conscious and aware of what she was doing. As we walked through the broad entryway of her home, I felt her hand edge slowly down my back, so that by the time I got to the front door, it was placed more on my ass than on my back. As I turned to thank her once again before walking out the door, she smiled and said, "My pleasure."

**********

MC first took the vibrator and placed it lightly on the right breast of her client, right next to the nipple which was still clamped. As the vibrator made contact with her breast, I could see the sub's body react, jolting a bit off of the bed, as she pulled against her wrist restraints. MC continued to lightly run it around her breast, and then continued on the other one, mirroring what she had done to the first. It was clear to me that this session must have been part of the private club arrangement that MC had described to me a couple of days earlier. I thought to myself that if I had known that this kind of activity would be taking place, and had disclosed that to the IRB, there was no way they would have given me permission to conduct the research.

Much to my surprise, I saw her then turn the vibrator off. I thought to myself, "Is that all she's going to do with it?", but my question was quickly answered. She picked up the chain that connected to the two nipple clamps. She wrapped it once around the vibrator, and then lifted it up so that there was no longer any slack between the vibrator and the clamps. She then turned the vibrator back on, now much louder than it was before. I could tell that she must have turned it up close to or on the highest setting. I could see the vibrations being transmitted through the chain to both nipple clamps, clearly stimulating both of her nipples simultaneously.

Subject 1-03 began moaning, as she was clearly turned on by this action. MC continued this for a few minutes, every now and then lifting the vibrator higher, tugging even further at her nipples. She then turned the vibrator off, unwrapped the chain, from it, and dropped it back on to her sub's chest between her breasts. 

MC then turned the vibrator back on one of the lower settings. She turned her body, and now faced toward her client's pussy. As she moved the vibrator toward it, I could see that her sub's juices were flowing quite fully from her pussy - even through my narrow vantage point, and from about six feet away, I could see them glistening on her pussy, and even a large wet spot between her legs on the sheet. There was no question the effect this was having on the sub.

The domme placed the vibrator lightly on the client's pussy, starting at the top, and began lightly stroking up and down first one of her outer labia and then the other. This elicited more moans, and her sub tried to lift her body, as if to gain more and stronger contact with the vibrator. But the restraints prevented her from moving very much, so try as she did, MC remained in control of just how much stimulation she would receive.

She leaned forward toward her sub's blindfolded head, and as she continued to rub the vibrator up and down the outside of her pussy, said to her in a low voice that I could just make out over the noise of the vibrator, "You're enjoying this, aren't you my pet? You may speak."




Sensitive Research Ch. 01



The woman immediately replied between her moans, "Oh god yes, Mistress Cecilia, it feels so good."

"What would you like me to do my dear?"

"Please ma'am, will you please put it in my pussy?"

Her mistress glanced at her for a moment before replying, as if she was contemplating the request. "Well, you've been a good sub so far, so maybe I'll give you a little of what you want."

She then turned back to look at her client's pussy, and I could see that she began to push the vibrator between her lips. With all the wetness that had accumulated there, it appeared to take little effort for her to insert it; it slipped right in, and in no time at all everything but the base, which MC continued to hold, had disappeared. 

After about a couple of minutes of this, with MC pulling the vibrator out and pushing it back in, subject 1-03 had begun moaning much more loudly, and her head began shaking back and forth. She continued to try to raise her crotch toward the vibrator, but her domme continued to control just how much stimulation she received by pulling the vibrator in and out. Beads of sweat began breaking out all over her body, and I sensed that she was not far from orgasm. I could only imagine how she must feel, having had so much stimulation. 

The dampness in my own pussy continued to increase as I observed this, and I had given up on taking notes at this point. I was curious to see just how the orgasm would play out across her body. My direct knowledge of other women's orgasms was limited to what I had seen in porn, and I knew that almost all of those were faked. I had never been one of those teens who experimented with sex with their friends, so had never seen another woman orgasming live like this.

Just as it appeared she was going to cross the threshold, MC withdrew the vibrator and put it down on her sub's stomach, still vibrating. Her moans turned into a giant groan as she was denied the release she quite clearly desired and needed.

"Please mistress, please let me cum," she begged.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you pet?"

"Oh yes, please, please."

"Well, let me see what I can do," MC replied.

She picked up the vibrator, and again repeated what she had done before, bringing her to the brink of orgasm. I was so aroused watching this, it was everything I could do not to put my own hand down my pants and touch myself. I had not anticipated this at all when I had started this research; I had assumed, as I had in my other projects, that I would be able to remain the detached, objective, unemotional observer, able to document what was happening without any problem. But this was clearly different, and I was quickly worried about how this was going to affect my research.

The domme repeated this two more times, bringing her sub to the brink of orgasm, and finally on the last time she relented and let her cum. She cried out in a loud scream, so loud that I appreciated the soundproofing that MC had earlier told me about. Juices leaked from her pussy, all over the vibrator, MC's hand, and the sheet, and I realized that she had ejaculated. I did my best to document what went on, but it was not easy to do so as distracted as I was by my own arousal. As this went on, MC turned and looked back directly at the spot from where I was watching, and gave me a big smile, and a wink.

MC allowed her client to come down gently from her orgasm, staying seated on the bed next to her and watching. As the sub's breathing returned to normal, she undid her restraints and removed her blindfold. She got up from the bed, leaned down, and said, "See you next time, pet." She then retrieved her clothes, and walked out the door, leaving her client to compose herself and do the same.



Sensitive Research Ch. 02



I strongly suggest you read Chapter 1 of the series, as it provides important context for the characters and themes of the rest of the series.

**********

We were seated in a booth in an upscale coffee shop not more than a couple of miles from Mistress Cecilia's house. It was a couple of days after I had observed her client, sitting across from me, having a session with the domme. The client, who called herself "Mary," was sipping a cappuccino while I had a cup of tea in front of me. She was only the second client of MC's who I had had the opportunity to interview face-to-face for my research study on dommes and their female clients.

Mary was casually dressed, much more so than when I had seen her earlier. She was wearing a pair of worn jeans, sandals, and a t-shirt, and her blonde hair was loose around her shoulders. She was expanding on some of the information she had provided in the on-line survey that I had asked her to fill-out, and which she had done the day after her session. I knew from the survey that, like I had suspected when I first saw her, she was only a couple of years younger than my own 43, was married to a business executive, had two children, and lived in a suburb a couple of towns away. My iPhone was on the table between us, with the Voice Memo app operating. 

"How did you first find out about MC, Mary?" I asked her. I was using the shorthand for Mistress Cecilia that I used in my notes, both of us agreeing that this would probably be safer than hearing us talking a mistress should anyone walk by.

As she responded in a quiet voice, I moved my iPhone a little closer to her. While the booth we were in provided quite a bit of privacy, and at mid-day the coffee shop was relatively deserted, I could tell that she was a little nervous.

"Well, it all started with my book group," she began. "I joined it about five years ago, shortly after we moved to this area."

"Why did you move here?" I interrupted.

"Oh, it was for my husband's job. He had worked in sales for his company his whole career, moving his way up from a sales job, to a local sales manager, then regional manager, and then five years ago was offered a promotion to VP for sales and marketing for the whole company here in the corporate offices."

In the demographic part of her survey she had indicated the highest category for her family's income, $500,000+, so I wasn't surprised to hear that this was the kind of job her husband held.

"Sorry for interrupting, please go on."

"No problem," she replied, continuing. "So a couple of years ago my book club was meeting, and like most times, we spent a lot of time sitting around and just schmoozing after we finished discussing that month's book. I think that most of enjoyed talking with each other as much about life in general as we did discussing the book – sometimes even more," she chuckled.

"What's the makeup of your book club?" I asked.

"It's all women, 15 of us, mostly similar to me – middle-aged, with kids, we all live in the same town or not too far away," she replied. "I really enjoy it; even if the book is not so great, I do enjoy the discussion about it, and I've become very friendly with a few of the women in the group."

I jotted a few notes with some potential follow-up questions on the interview protocol that I had in front of me.

"So after the book discussion that month, we were sitting around drinking wine, as we usually did during book club, and one woman asked if anyone had read 50 Shades of Gray? It had come out just a couple of months earlier, and there was all the buzz about it at the time. Pretty much everyone knew about it, there were just one or two who had not, but only a few had actually read it."

"Had you read it?"

"I hadn't. I had heard about it, and was curious, but I think I was probably more embarrassed at that point to be seen with it, so I hadn't bought it. But a few of the women had, so we were all peppering them with questions. One woman said that she had bought it at the local Barnes & Noble, came home, locked herself in her bedroom, and read it cover to cover straight through. She even told her husband to take the kids out for pizza when he got home from work," she said with a laugh, "so she could finish it."

"Since I was curious, I asked a lot of questions about it, as did a few others, and I was intrigued enough that I decided I did want to read it. I was still a little embarrassed to be seen with it, so my solution was to purchase the audiobook for my iPod," she said with a little bit of a triumphant smile.

I smiled back at her. "Well I guess that solved the problem for you?"

"Yes it did. I listened to it, not quite cover to cover, but finished it within a couple of days. I was very intrigued, and I admit, turned on by some of what was in there. Have you read it?" she asked me.

"Yes I did," I replied, "but only recently as preparation for this study."

**********

I was completing my fifth and final observation of a session with Mistress Cecilia. I had hoped to see sessions with a couple of other clients of hers before I flew back home, but we weren't able to get the schedules worked out.

I had received an email from MC earlier in the day confirming the session was still on for that evening, and she ended her message by saying somewhat mysteriously, "This one's going to be a little different than the others, I think you'll find it interesting."

I replied to ask her how it would be different, but did not hear back from her. So I drove my rental car to her house, arriving about 15 minutes before the scheduled session. She greeted me at the door, and I saw that she was not dressed in her typical domme clothing that I had seen in the other four sessions. She was wearing a rather plain blouse, a calf-length wraparound skirt, and her make-up was much plainer than in the past sessions. Her severe, tight ponytail was missing as well, and her only jewelry was a very classy looking set of pearls around her neck, with matching pearl earrings.

My first thought was that I must have gotten the time wrong, and had arrived early before she had time to prepare. "I'm sorry, am I early?" I asked her.

She laughed, and must have seen the look of surprise on my face when she opened the door. "No, not at all. Come in."

We walked into her living room, where I had conducted my first interview with her a week before. She sat, and I followed.

"Let me explain," she began. "As I said in my email, this session will be different from the others. This client is somewhat atypical from most of my others. Rather than being into strong dominance and submission, she's more into role playing. So that's why I'm dressed differently."

"Role playing?" I inquired.

"Yes, but rather than spoiling it for you, I'll just let you watch and follow along."

"Okay, that's fine with me." I was somewhat intrigued, but figured I could handle whatever it was. "Is she a member of your private club?" The "private club" was for women who desired a higher level of service than women who just paid on a fee-for-service basis.

"Yes, she just joined a few months ago. And there's one other thing that will be different about this sessions as well," MC went on.

"What's that?"

"You're not going to be in the observation room, as you had for the other sessions."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

She smiled at me. "You're going to be in the room with us."

I was shocked at this revelation, and not sure how I felt about it. In the other four observations, I was seated in a dark room adjacent to where MC conducted her sessions, peering in a small gap between two solid sliding doors. "I'm not sure about this," I said with a bit of hesitation in my voice. "I mean, won't that affect things, how the session goes and everything." The concern that I raised with MC was how my being in the room would affect the session. I was worried about what researchers call the Hawthorne Effect, or the possibility that a subject's behavior would be altered by the knowledge that they were being observed as part of a research study.

MC's clients certainly knew I was there, as they had to consent to participating in my study and to allow me to observe their session. But because I was largely hidden away during the session, I had hoped that this made it easier for them to forget that they were being watched, and to minimize any Hawthorne Effect. In fact, this was a condition of the approval of the study by my university's Institutional Review Board, that any observations I conducted had to be done in a way that precluded as much as possible the chance that the Hawthorne Effect would impact my findings.

"I don't know about this, MC, I don't think it would work," I said to her.

"Why not, my dear?" Again, she was using that familiar term with me that she had used in our earlier interview. I tried to ignore it and whatever implications it might have had.

"I'm just worried about how it will affect the session. Don't you think your client will object?"

"Oh no," she laughed. "It was her idea."

I just stared at her, not believing what she said. "Really?" I asked incredulously.

"Yes, truly. When we were discussing the session, and I started to explain where you'd be, she's the one who said, 'Just have her sit in the room.' I asked her why, and she said she'd just be more comfortable than having you watching from the other room. She said that she felt like you'd be a Peeping Tom or something."

This clearly raised issues with my research protocol, and I was worried about how it would affect the study. But as I thought about it for a few moments, I figured the worst case was that I could just throw out the observation and not use it in the study.

"Okay," I agreed, somewhat reluctantly. "If you think it will be okay, I'm willing to give it a try."

MC clapped her hands together once. "Great," she said with a big smile. "I think you'll find it to be a very interesting experience. Let's go get ready.

I grabbed my briefcase, and followed her downstairs to the room where she conducted her sessions. She pointed to an upholstered side chair in one of the corners of the room. "I thought I'd give you a little more comfortable place to sit, since you'll be right here with us."

"Thank you," I replied, as I put down my briefcase next to the chair. "How do you want to do this – do you want me to wait here, or should I wait outside the room and come in with the two of you?"

"No, you can go ahead and sit down and just wait for us." She looked at her watch. "She should be here in a few minutes."

I sat down, and started to get my laptop out of my briefcase, but then hesitated. I looked at MC, and asked, "Will the tapping on the keyboard be distracting, do you want me to just take notes instead?"

"Oh no, go ahead and use your laptop, I'm sure it will be just fine."

"Okay," I replied, as MC left the room. I began to set up my observation sheet on the laptop, recording that this was an observation of subject 1-05, the time, information about the setting, etc. I had seen this client's survey earlier in the day, and I knew she was a 25 year-old woman, single, and had been a client of MC's for about a year. I looked around the room and noticed that it was arranged slightly differently than it had been for the other sessions. The table that had been placed against one wall was now pulled out into the middle of the room, and it had an executive-type leather swivel chair on one side, and a wood side chair opposite. It was a very plain table, nothing more than a wood top, maybe two and a half by five feet, and four plain wooden legs. There were some papers, trays, pads, and pencils on top of the desk. There was a small trash can underneath it.

A few minutes later, I heard steps coming down the stairs, and the two women walked into the room. My first inclination was to rise and introduce myself to the client, as if we were in a business meeting of some kind or another, but just as I was about to get up, I hesitated and decided it would be better for me to wait and take my cue from MC. So I sat back in my chair.

Sure enough, both MC and her client totally ignored me as they came into the room chatting, as if I were not there at all. I concluded that this must have been the way her client wanted the session to play out. Subject 1-05, while I knew was 25, looked much younger. She was dressed in jeans with holes in them, flip flops, and a t-shirt with the name of what I assumed was some band on it that I had never heard of. She was chewing gum. 

I began to take some notes on my laptop, and the tapping of the keyboard seemed excruciatingly loud in the silent room. After a few letters I stopped, looking up with fear. But the two women were still ignoring me, continuing to chat with each other, so I continued typing.

"Well sit down, Miss Stevenson," MC said to her client, pointing to the wooden chair on one side of the desk, as she sat down in the swivel chair. Subject 1-05 sat in the chair, and immediately slumped back, feet splayed in front of her.

"Sit up straight young, lady" MC almost barked at her, and her client slowly pulled herself more upright. "And is that gum in your mouth?"

"Yes, ma'am," her client responded in a quiet voice. I was mesmerized, watching this, wondering what the hell was going on.

"Then spit it out immediately, you know the rules." The domme nudged the trash can with her foot, pushing it closer to her client, who took the gum out of her mouth and dropped it into the can.

"I'm going to have to write that up as another infraction for you," MC continued, reaching for one of the pads of paper and a pencil. She began scribbling on it. "This school can't abide young ladies who cannot follow the rules."

As MC said this, I began to understand what she meant by the role playing that would be conducted in this session. And I now understood why her client was dressed the way she was; in her outfit, she easily looked seven or eight years younger than her 25 years, as if she could still be in high school. And MC was clearly dressed up as a principal or something like that. I was taking notes furiously on my laptop.

"So you do know why you've been called down here?" MC asked the younger woman.

"No, not really."

"No, not really, what?"

"Sorry – no, ma'am."

"That's better. You've been called to my office because you've reached your limit of absences this term, and you were also caught cheating on your math test. And from the clothes you're wearing, I can tell that you choose not to comply with the school's dress code as well."

"I'm sorry, ma'am, I know I shouldn't have cheated, and I should be better about getting here to school. I promise I'll do better the rest of the term."

"Apologizing doesn't cut it," MC said in a stern voice. "We had the same problems with you last term, and it hasn't gotten any better. We're going to have to resort to other disciplinary measures."

"Wh, wh, what do you mean, ma'am," subject 1-05 stuttered, fear creeping into her voice.

"I'm going to impose discipline on you that I am sure you will be more likely to remember, and that will be more likely to influence your future behavior. Stand up."

The young woman stood up from her chair, and stood facing MC. I was sitting facing one of the narrow sides of the table, with MC sitting to my left and her client now standing on the right side of the table.

MC got up from her chair, walked around the table, and stood behind her client. She stood there for a moment, and then grabbed her long hair, yanking it down her back. I saw her head jerk backward. "Take off those skanky jeans," she hissed at her.

The young woman's hands went to the button of her jeans, but then for the first time since she'd come into the room she looked over at me and stopped. I stopped typing and froze, afraid that my presence in the room had in fact influenced her.

"Who's that in the corner, ma'am?" she asked of her domme, who was walking toward the cabinet mounted on the wall of the room, where I knew MC kept her implements.

I was confused, because MC told me that it was her client's idea that I sit in the room, and she clearly knew who I was since she had signed the consent form and completed the survey for the study. I looked down at my laptop screen, not wanting to make eye contact with her.

"That's Ms. Phillips, she's in training to be the assistant principal of the school. She's here to learn how I handle discipline."

I was somewhat shocked by this response, but now understood more clearly what was going on in the role play. I was a little uncomfortable being included as part of the role play, and once again fretted about the Hawthorne Effect, but I realized I had little choice at this point but to go along. I was afraid if I raised an objection, the session would be brought to a close, and I would lose another research subject.

"Oh, okay," the young woman said, as though it were a perfectly reasonable explanation, and she continued what she had started. I looked up again, and I saw her undo the button of her jeans, lower the zipper, and start to shimmy them off of her hips and down her legs. MC was still over at the cabinet retrieving something, ignoring her client.

As the jeans went down her legs, I was shocked to see that she had nothing on underneath them. From my angle, I could see that she was shaved perfectly smooth in her pubic region.

MC walked back from the cabinet, and I could see that she had some kind of small riding crop in her hand. As she got back to the table, standing behind her client, she said, "Where are your panties, you little slut?"

The young woman responded in a quivering voice, "I didn't wear any today, ma'am."

"You are a little slut," her mistress responded. "Bend over, and grab your ankles with your hands, and present yourself to me." The young woman immediately complied, and I suspected that this wasn't the first time she had performed this action for her domme. I noticed that she turned herself away from me when she did so, so that as she bent, her smooth, taut ass was pointed directly at me. I realized the young woman had quite a body – she looked to be about 5'5" or 5"6", and couldn't have weighed more than 110 pounds. Her ass was very tight, and like her pussy, she didn't appear to have a single hair anywhere in her crack.

As her client waited, MC swished the crop a few times, and I saw the young woman flinch with each one. "Okay, you little slut, I'm going to give you ten hits with the crop, five on each cheek, and you need to thank me for each one. Do you understand?"

"Yes ma'am."

MC stepped backwards a couple of feet, and positioned herself to the side of the woman. She pulled back the crop, and swung it sharply forward. It didn't look like she had swung very hard, but there was a loud slapping sound as the crop hit her client's left cheek, and I heard her grunt and say, "Thank you, ma'am." I noticed there was a very faint red line on her cheek.

**********

I was discussing the book 50 Shades of Gray with MC's third client that I had observed.

"Well, you're a professor, so I'm sure you realize it's not great literature. But the ideas in it definitely got me thinking."

"Had you ever engaged in BDSM play with your husband or other partners?" I asked. I knew from her survey that she had been married to her husband for about fifteen years, had not been married before, but had had a number of other sexual partners before meeting her husband.

"Oh god no!" she quickly replied. "To be truthful, I don't think I had ever even considered it before. I mean, I certainly had heard of BDSM, I'm not naïve, but I never had really thought about it for myself, and I can't imagine my husband being interested."

"Why not?"

Mary hesitated for a moment, and gave this question some thought before she answered. "To be honest, Paul is very straight-laced. We have a very traditional sex life – not much variety, and to be even more truthful, not very often either. In his defense, he has a very stressful job, he works and travels a lot, and when he is home he just seems exhausted."




Sensitive Research Ch. 02



"How do you feel about that?"

She sighed as she responded. "I guess I had just accepted that this was the way things were going to be. Don't get me wrong – in all other ways he's a loving husband, he's a great dad to our two daughters, and I know he cares about us. But I think it's just not something that is that important to him. And it certainly had gotten worse after we moved here and he took this job."

I pushed back on her. "And what about you?"

She sighed once again. "I knew that I wanted more; I just didn't know what to do. I had tried all the typical romantic things, getting the kids out of the house for the night so we could relax, take a bath together, that kind of thing. I tried arranging a weekend away at a romantic B&B with just the two of us a couple of times. But nothing seemed to work. He was very sweet and loving, but just showed little interest in sex. I think he knew I was unhappy about it, because he tried to make it up to me by sending me flowers, buying me jewelry – things like that. I just chalked it up to the stresses of his job."

"Did you consider counseling?"

"Yes, we actually went to a marriage counselor a year or so after we got here, but Paul gave up after about six months and said it was a waste of time."

"Did you continue with therapy on your own?"

"I did for a while, but to be truthful, I didn't like the therapist that much and didn't feel like it was helping, so I gave up too."

I hesitated to ask what I knew would be a difficult question for her, but decided to plunge in anyway. "Did you consider looking for another lover?"

"Oh god, no," she replied, almost as if in horror. "I could never cheat on Paul like that with another man."

I was a little taken aback by this response, given what I had just seen occur between her and MC a couple of days earlier, so I pushed on this a little.

"What about with another woman?" I asked her. "I saw on your survey that you said you had had sexual experiences with women before."

Mary hesitated for a moment before answering, as if she was not sure she wanted to get into this topic, but then she did respond. "I had had a couple of experiences when I was in college, not unlike a lot of women back then," she said. "But they were pretty minor, nothing really came of them, and I really only dated men. But I didn't think about cheating on Paul with a woman, either."

I was still trying to reconcile this with what I knew about her being a client of MC's, but I figured we'd get to that eventually. "Okay, so let's get back to 50 Shades of Gray. You had said that you found some of the things in there arousing."

"Yes, I did," Mary replied. I thought she might have been blushing just a little bit to admit this to me. "We talked about the book again a few months later, because by this time about five more of us had read it. I asked a lot of questions about what the others who had read it thought of it. Some said they thought it was silly and said they would never consider something like that, but there were a couple of other women who agreed with me that parts of it were very erotic. Maybe it was the wine, but I was certainly more open about how I reacted to the book than I ordinarily thought I would be. I guess also I've gotten to know these women pretty well, so I felt comfortable and trusting with them."

"So," she continued, "as we were leaving that night, I was walking toward my car with one woman, Linda, who I didn't know that well. She had just joined the group a few months earlier, replacing a friend of mine who had moved away. We hadn't seen each other outside of the group, and she was pretty quiet and didn't contribute too much, at least until that night. She was one of the other women who said she liked 50 Shades of Gray and was very enthusiastic about it."

"As I got to my car, she said, 'Would you like to get a cup of coffee sometime?' I knew she had recently moved to the area and was probably looking to make some friends, so I told her I'd be happy to. We met a few days later at a coffee shop in the town we both lived in."

I asked, "And did she talk about 50 Shades of Gray?"

Mary laughed. "Oh yes, after some opening pleasantries, the getting-to-know-you stuff, she brought it up again, asking me which parts I liked best, how it made me feel, whether I'd done anything like that on my own, etc. At first, I was a little uncomfortable, thinking this was a little personal. But then I realized I had been talking about it at book group, so there's no reason I shouldn't be able to talk about it with her. So I answered her questions."

"And how did she react?"

"Well, she was a very good listener, actually. I'd talk, she'd follow-up with another question, I'd talk some more. After about half an hour talking about the book, she began to ask me questions about my relationship with Paul."

"And were you willing to talk about that with her?" I inquired.

"Yes, I was okay. You know, in book group we tend to talk about our husbands or other relationships quite a bit, it's almost therapeutic," she replied with a chuckle. "So Linda had heard me talk at times about my frustration with Paul, how he traveled so much, even about how our sex life was pretty lackluster. So she understood the basics."

"After listening for a while, she said, 'You know, I have someone you might want to meet.' I asked her who it was, and she said it was a woman who had a specialized therapy technique for women like me, and that she was a client of hers. I prodded her a little to find out more, but she said I should just talk to her, that it would be easier for her to explain it to me directly. She wrote her name and phone number on a piece of paper, and told me that she'd let this woman know she may be hearing from me. She explained that she worked only by referral."

"And did you follow-up with her?" I asked.

"Not at first," Mary responded. "But a couple of weeks later, I found the piece of paper in my purse. It had been a particularly bad time; the night before I had tried to interest Paul in sex, and once again he complained that he was too tired and rolled over and went to bed. I was pretty frustrated, so when I found the paper the next morning after I got our daughters off to school, I called her."

"And what happened?"

"Well, she was pretty vague on the phone about what her therapy technique was, and she said she preferred to do an intake interview face-to-face. I was reluctant to schedule this at first, but as I thought about it I figured I had little to lose, so went ahead and made an appointment with her."

"And what happened at that first meeting?"

"I went to her house, where she explained she had her office. She started by asking me a lot of questions about the history of my relationship with Paul, my current unhappiness with our sex life, and what I thought I was looking for. I explained to her about how I knew Linda, and that we had discussed 50 Shades of Gray. After about an hour of listening and taking notes, she said, 'Well, I think I may be able to help you Mary. Let me explain exactly what my services are.' I listened to her for the next 15 minutes as she explained what she really did, and I'll tell you, you could have knocked me over with a feather."

I laughed. "I imagine you must have been a little shocked, especially since you knew that Linda was a client as well."

"Yes," Mary laughed back. "I thought to myself that Linda must have really trusted me if she had told me about Mistress Cecilia like that, and admitted she was a client as well."

"So what happened after she explained things?"

"At first I thought to myself, 'This is nuts. There is no way I could do anything like that.' And I expressed my doubts to her. But Mistress Cecilia was not pushy at all, she simply said, 'You think about it, and let me now if you want to give it a try.' It took me almost a month, but I finally got up the nerve to call her and schedule a session."

"And what happened when you went back to see her for that first session?"

"Oh my god, I couldn't believe it. It may have been one of the most revelatory and eye opening afternoons of my life."

**********

MC completed the next nine croppings of her client's ass, each one followed by a, "Thank you, ma'am," and the raising of faint red lines on her cheeks. 

"Now sit down on your chair, Miss Stevenson," she commanded her.

As the young woman stood up, I looked to see if there were any tears in her eyes, but I couldn't see anyway. It was hard to tell just how much the crop hurt her; it sounded impressive, and I could see the marks on her ass, but she didn't seem too upset about it.

"May I put my pants back on ma'am?" she asked MC.

"No you little slut," MC replied, "I'll let you know when you can do that."

Her client sat down on the chair rather gingerly, leading me to believe that the cropping was probably more painful for her than I had first believed. As she sat, she looked over at me again, catching my eye.

"That was for your unexcused absences, but we still have your other transgressions to deal with," as the domme continued with the role play. "The cheating is very serious, and as you know, is a violation of our school's honor code. And our philosophy here at Miss Cecilia's School" – I had to stifle a chuckle at that one – "is to use behavior modification to encourage our pupils to stay in line. I'm hoping that the punishment I'm about to give you for the cheating will get you to think twice before you'd do that again."

"Yes ma'am," she replied.

MC got up and walked over once again to the cabinet, and took something out and put it in her hand. She returned to the desk and sat down again.

"Take off your shirt," she commanded.

Again, without hesitation, the young woman reached down and grabbed the bottom of her t-shirt with both hands, and lifted it up and off of her body, dropping it on the floor next to her. Not surprisingly, she wore no bra, and I could see that she had two cute and pert little breasts, each sticking straight out, no bigger than a B-cup. While her areaola were very pale and hard to distinguish from the rest of her breasts, her nipples were quite prominent, a mocha brown color, and each was pierced with a small barbell through it. 

I found myself growing aroused once again. I hadn't been at first, even when this lithe young woman had taken off her pants, but for some reason the sight of those pierced breasts was very erotic. I could feel that familiar tingling in my own pussy that I had experienced a number of times during those earlier sessions. As she dropped her shirt on the floor, she looked at me again and I thought I saw a very faint smile cross her lips. 

MC stood up and leaned over the desk. She opened her hand, and dropped on the table in front of her what I quickly realized were two nipple clamps. With little ceremony, she picked up the first one, reached out and grabbed her client's right nipple, and pulled hard. This elicited a gasp from her, and before her mouth was closed, MC had attached the clamp to her distended nipple. "Silence, you slut – I don't want to hear a word from you." She then proceeded to do the same thing with the left nipple. I could see the effect of the clamps, placed just behind her barbell piercings, was to force her nipples out even further. I could only imagine how painful that must have been for her, but to the young woman's credit, she was stoic and didn't complain any further. But the grimace on her face let me know that she was in some kind of discomfort.

MC sat down again. "Now, let's see how you do with those. Hopefully next time you think about cheating, you'll remember what you are feeling right now."

"Yes ma'am," she managed to get out through gritted teeth.

"Now we have one last thing we have to deal with today. You showed me great disrespect when you came into my office today, do you know why you little slut?"

"No ma'am."

"You were chewing gum, do you remember that?" the mistress admonished her.

"Oh yes, ma'am, I am very sorry, I forgot."

"And you are clothes are in violation of the dress code. Once again, a simple apology will not do. You are too much of a habitual offender for me to allow that. How many times have you had to be called to my office, Miss Stevenson?"

"Oh, I don't now ma'am, but it must be at least 20," she replied.

"I checked your record before you came in this time, this is your 27th visit, and I am getting tired of the lack of respect you are showing this school and me," MC said in her stern voice.

"So I'm going to try a new therapy with you in the hope that you will learn the proper way to show respect. I want you to pay attention and follow directions precisely as I give them to you, do you understand young lady?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good, now stand up."

Subject 1-05 quickly complied, pushing her chair back and standing upright in front of it. As she did, I could see that she her belly button was pierced with a barbell matching those in her nipples. She was totally naked, other than for the flip flops on her feet.

"Now take off those silly shoes, and come over here," MC said. As she said this, she turned her chair sideways, so that she was now facing me.

Her client walked around the table and stood in front of MC, displaying to me, only about six or seven feet away, her tight little butt with the faint crop marks. She stood like that for a few moments, as MC just stared at her. MC then lifted her finger, and waved it around in a circular motion, and her client complied by turning around in a circle a couple of times, allowing her domme to inspect her entire body. She stopped once again with her back toward me.

"Now get down on your hands and knees."

The young woman quickly complied, getting down on the carpeting. I thought maybe MC was going to go and get a dog collar and leash, like she did with subject 1-03 in the earlier session I had observed.

But she did not get up, and instead, much to my shock, she lifted the front of her skirt up, spread her legs wide, and said to her client, "Get up here, slut, and get your head under my skirt."

The young woman immediately crawled forward, and as she did, MC scooted forward so that her ass was perched on the front of her swivel chair. Her client proceeded to put her head underneath the skirt, and MC let it drop over her back. I couldn't see very well, but it was very clear that she was far enough in there that her face must have been right up against her mistress's crotch.

I was flabbergasted to see what was occurring, but I had to admit to myself that my arousal was increasing as well. Here I was, conducting a research study, and I was watching a naked woman – one with cropping marks across her ass – on her hands and knees with her face pushed into the crotch of another woman. A quick thought flew through my mind, that I had never envisioned that I would find myself in this situation when I was in graduate school contemplating a career as an academic! At this point my hands had come off the keyboard, and I was just watching, mesmerized.

"Take off my panties, slut," MC instructed her client. As the young woman reached her hands up, her domme stopped her. "Not with your hands, you little twat, use your teeth." 

The young woman immediately put her hands back down and leaned further in. I saw her head move underneath the skirt, obviously trying to get into position to be able to grab her domme's underwear with her teeth. She seemed to have some difficulty, but after about 15 seconds or so, I saw her began to back up a bit. She had to go back and forth, grabbing one side and easing it down an inch or two, and then doing the same on the other, in order to accomplish her task. 

As she got them part of the way down, MC raised up her ass a bit from the chair, to assist her. Her client was able to now get the panties down to MC's thighs, past her knees, and down to the bottom of her feet. MC lifted her feet, freeing the panties, and her submissive picked them up with her teeth and put them to the side.

"Get your head back in there, you little slut," MC growled, lifting her skirt once again. The young woman quickly scooted forward once more and resumed her position. As she did, I glanced at her bare ass, and between her legs, where I could see her outer labia quite prominently displayed, uncovered as they were by any pubic hair. As I glanced there, I realized I could see a faint sheen of moisture on her labia and beginning to run down her inner thighs. It was quite evident that the young woman was getting quite turned on by the dominance her mistress was displaying over her.

I tried my best to begin taking notes again, but I found that my own arousal was becoming a huge distraction. As I stared at this woman's private parts and the evidence of her excitement, it was triggering mine as well. As I took a deep breath to try to steady myself and resume taking notes, I thought I caught a scent of that quite unique smell of a woman's arousal. I panicked at first, worried that it was my own, and that the other two women would discover the effect their role play was having on me. But I quickly realized that it was more likely the scent of the young submissive I was aware of, and perhaps even that of her mistress. I did my best to place my fingers on the keyboard and continue working.

"You know what I want, don't you my little pet," MC said, almost in a sweet voice now, the sternness now gone.

The woman mumbled from underneath the skirt, but in a voice clear enough for us both to understand, "Yes mistress."

"That's right, dear, start licking," she said, giving me wink and a big smile.

**********

"Can you explain to me why your first session with Mistress Cecilia was so eye-opening?" I asked Mary, as she was describing for me her first session with MC.

"Well, I think it was because she taught me things about myself that I hadn't known through a quarter century of adulthood," she responded. She paused for a minute, as if to gather her thoughts, and then continued. "She started off by just getting me to relax, and get used to the idea of being alone with her. Her technique was almost like hypnosis; I know that she didn't actually hypnotize me, but it was almost as if I were in an altered state of consciousness. It's very hard for me to explain it to you if you've never experienced it."

I was feverishly taking notes, even though the app on my phone was recording everything Mary was saying. She was right – I had never been in the situation she was describing before, so I asked her to explain it further.

"She got me so relaxed, that I think I was able to open my mind up to possibilities of things that I never would have considered if I were in a normal conscious state. For example, I had been a long time since I had had any kind of sexual experiences with women, but as Mistress Cecilia started to touch me, it seemed the most natural thing in the world."

"And then when she suggested that I simply put myself in her hands, and do exactly what she told me, I went along with her. It was the most freeing feeling I had ever experienced."

This didn't surprise me, as I knew from some of the background research I had read that certain people were very good at getting others to engage in behavior they normally wouldn't consider, largely through the power of suggestion. It is like a form of hypnosis, without actually putting someone into a hypnotic state. If the person doing the suggesting can alter the expectation of the respondent, then they can get them to accept suggestions they otherwise would reject. Psychologists called this "response expectancies."

"And that's how you started with her?" I asked.

"Yes," Mary responded. "From there, we just continued to explore my interest in submission, as if she were taking me on a journey for the last two years."




Sensitive Research Ch. 02



"Does your husband know about Mistress Cecilia?"

"Not exactly," Mary smiled at me somewhat shyly. "He thinks she's a therapist I'm seeing. Which in a way, is how I think of her," she laughed heartily.

"What about insurance – don't you have health insurance that he would expect you to use?"

Mary laughed again. "Between all of the counseling that our kids get, we more than use up our mental health benefit from his insurance each year, so I just explain to him that I have to pay for it out of pocket. I told him that I get a small discount by paying cash as well, and even though it adds up to quite a bit some months, to be honest, he's pretty oblivious. He probably just thinks I'm spending the money on clothes, going out to lunch with my friends, whatever."

**********

Subject 1-05 was on her hands and knees, facing away from me, and had her head beneath MC's skirt. I knew that she was licking her mistress's pussy. It was somewhat disconcerting being right in the room with them, only six or seven feet away, and staring at the young woman's tight, bare ass with the faint red crop marks on them. It was much easier sitting in the adjoining room, even though the clients knew I was there, than being right here, almost front and center, and integrated into the role play.

I was watching MC's face, to see if she was reacting to the oral sex her client was performing on her. She showed little reaction at first, however, and just sat in her chair. At one point, she raised her skirt, as if to give me a better view of what the young submissive was doing. She smiled faintly as she did so, before dropping the skirt back over her head.

When I looked at her client, however, I could see that she was reacting to what she was doing. The moisture from her pussy was now creating a more distinct pattern running down the inside of her right thigh. As I became aware of just how this submission was affecting her, I found my own arousal continuing to increase as well. The knowledge that one woman had such power over another, that she could get this young, attractive woman to do almost anything she wanted, made me curious as to how that would feel. What really surprised me, though, was that I felt very similarly about the submissive woman – wondering just how it must feel to give oneself up so completely to another person like that.

After a few more minutes of this, MC picked up the riding crop that she had placed on the table. She held the handle, and began idly running the end of the crop over the back and ass cheeks of her client. She was not slapping at her at all; rather, it was being done in almost a loving fashion, as if petting her in response to the oral service she was providing her mistress. 

After stroking her ass cheeks a few times, MC started running the crop down the woman's crack, starting at the top, and then pushing it down her crack. I could see that the woman was so wet that some of it was beginning to adhere itself to the crop. When MC picked up the crop and realized this, she smiled.

"Oh, you little slut. You're enjoying this so much that your pretty pussy is leaking all over the place, isn't it?"

I could hear a muffled response from between MC's skirt, "Yes mistress."

"You know that this is for my pleasure, not yours, don't you you naughty girl?"

"Yes ma'am," came the muffled response.

"I'm just going to have to warm up your ass a bit in punishment for that, slut." And with that, she picked up the crop and brought it down sharply on her slave's right cheek, right on top of the existing red marks. The woman grunted, and pushed her face even further into MC's crotch, as if trying to escape the crop. MC did this five more times, three sharp "thwacks" on each cheek. The woman somehow kept licking her mistress through the grunts and pain of being cropped.

MC waited a moment and then picked up the crop and much to my surprise, pointed it toward me. She mouthed, "You want a try?"

I could see clearly what she had said. I shook my head violently back and forth, and mouthed back a large "No." It would be such a breach of research ethics for me to do that, I could not even consider it. I was already nervous enough about being right there in the room with them, and having been referred to during their role play.

MC just smiled and shrugged her shoulders, as if to say, "Your loss." She reached behind her, and apparently undid the clasp on her skirt, lifted her ass just a bit above the chair, and proceeded to unwrap the skirt and place it on the table. She undid the buttons on her blouse, opening it up and exposing her large breasts encased in a very sensible, cotton bra.

"Ok, Miss Stevenson, it's time for you to finish things off," she addressed the young woman who continued licking all over her pussy. "Start working on my clit."

The young woman sat back just a bit, and she raised her head just enough to place her tongue on her mistress's clit. MC now sat back in her chair more, and made herself comfortable. As she did so, the young woman followed her back, keeping her tongue attached to the domme's clit.

It only took a few minutes before I could see the signs of rising arousal on MC. She began breathing more heavily, and I could see her pussy began to leak as well. Her nipples were becoming more prominent through her bra. As the young woman turned her head from side to side, I could see MC's juices on her cheeks. And the sub's own arousal was matching that of her domme, as her juices were now running freely down the inner thigh of both her legs.

I was just sitting and watching a scene that I could not take my eyes off of. It was so erotic, these two woman getting more and more turned on, and I could feel my own arousal through the wetness seeping into my panties. I became very self-conscious, fearing that I would leak through my pants, right onto the upholstered chair. But there was nothing I could do – I had to stay seated, watching what was happening, as the scene continued to unfold in front of me. The smell of female arousal was heavy in the air in the room, and I still could not tell whether it was my own I was smelling, the other two women's, or some combination.

Finally, after only a couple more minutes, I could see the signs of MC's impending orgasm. She said through gritted teeth, "That's right, you little slut, keep licking me right there." And then with a loud "Arggghhh," the orgasm wracked her body, shaking it violently, as her young submissive gently brought her down through gentle licking. As MC's breathing returned to normal, and she slumped back in her chair, her client gently licked her labia and her thighs, attempting to clean her up as best she could with her tongue.

MC sat up, and pushed her submissive off of her face, and back on her haunches. She stood up, buttoned her blouse, and then grabbed her skirt and wrapped it back around her. She reached down for her panties, stepped into them, and pulled them back up her legs.

"Well, Miss Stevenson, I think you've shown that you want to repent for your subpar behavior here at our school. So I might just be willing to let you stay on another month, but you'll have to be on your best behavior or you will be punished again."

The young woman looked up at her and said, "Thank you ma'am."

"And you need to thank Miss Phillips as well."

The woman turned on her knees, smiled right at me, and said, "Thank you Miss Phillips."

I didn't know what to do – should I respond, engaging in the role play? Or just play the passive observer? I decided for a middle ground, and simply nodded my head.

"Now give me back my clamps, get your clothes on, and get out of my office."

The sub quickly got to her feet and complied with her domme's orders as quickly as she could. It could not have been more than 30 seconds before she was pulling the door to the room closed behind her as she exited.

MC turned to me, and looked at me inquisitively. "You look a little flush, dear, are you okay?"

I didn't want to admit to her just how I reacted to the scene that had played out in front of me over the last hour, so I just said, "I'm fine, I guess it's just hot in here."

She smiled at me, as if she knew my dirty little secret, that my panties were soaked from what I had just seen. But she didn't say anything more and just turned and walked out the door. I packed up my laptop and followed her.

**********

We were sitting in MC's living room, after she had gone upstairs and freshened up and changed her clothes. I wish I could have done the same, but the best I could do was to ask to use her bathroom, where I used toilet paper to try my best to dry my pussy. I had to admit to myself how turned on I was. I so much wanted to masturbate to relieve my arousal, but I couldn't bring myself to do that, not in this setting. But I knew that by the time I got back to my hotel room later that night that I would very much look forward to a warm bath and touching myself.

"So, have you gotten everything you need for your study?" she asked.

"Yes, I can't think you enough for arranging everything. For my first set of observations and interviews, this has been a wonderful start to the study. I really appreciate it." I had an appointment tomorrow to meet the young woman from today's session to conduct the follow-up interview, and then I was going to be observing sessions and conducting interviews with one more domme in this city for a few more days before I headed home.

"Oh, my pleasure my dear." There she was again, using that diminutive phrase. But as I did the other times, I brushed it aside. "Anything in the name of science," she laughed. "But in all seriousness, I am happy that I've been able to help you. By the way, you said that Chicago is the next city you're going to be visiting for your study, is that correct?"

"Yes, I'm planning on going there next month, why?" I responded.

"Well, I know a domme there who I think would be very helpful for you to connect with. She's a good friend, and I think she and her clientele will be very good for your study."

"Oh, great, that's very nice of you. How do you know her?"

"We met a number of years ago at the IAPD annual conference?"

I looked at her quizzically. "IAPD?"

"The International Association of Professional Dommes," she replied.

I was astonished, and my mouth was agape. "You mean, dommes have a professional association?" I blurted out.

MC burst into hysterical laughter. "I had you going there didn't I?"

I turned beet red at the thought that I had been so easily duped, but managed to chuckle myself. "Yes, you did," I admitted to her.

She wiped her eyes and managed to stop laughing. "Truthfully, I've known Lady Amber for years. She used to live nearby, and we'd connected many times. Here, I'll write down her website address and her private phone number for you." She took out a piece of paper and pen, wrote the information down, and handed it to me. "And I'll give her your name and let her know you're legit, not just some perv who wants to watch some BDSM sessions for free," winking at me

"Thank you, I really appreciate it." I truly was appreciative, as I had been running into some problems getting dommes in Chicago to agree to be in my study. "Besides you knowing her, why do you think she will be good for the study?"

MC hesitated for a moment before replying, just staring me. Then she smiled a little bit, and said, "Just trust me – I think she will understand you and what you are trying to do."

I was a little mystified by this response, but left it at that. "Okay, I'll get in touch with her as soon as I get back to my office."

I thanked MC one more time for all of her help, and headed for the door. As I did so, she followed behind, and as I approached the door, put her hand on my lower back. The feel of her hand there sent shivers down my spine, causing me to think back to when she had done that last time we met, and then let her hand wander lower down to my ass.

I turned toward her, and put out my hand to shake hers.

"Oh no, dear," she said, reaching her hands around my body and giving me a big hug. I had my briefcase in my hand, so it was a little awkward to hug her back, but I did my best. "With everything we've been through together, I think a hug is more in order than a handshake." She continued hugging me for a few seconds, and once again, I realized that one of her hands was on my ass more than my back. I felt my pussy start to leak once again, as I was responding to her touch.

She finally pulled away, and gave me a chaste kiss on the cheek, whispering in my ear, "Make sure you visit Lady Amber."



Sensitive Research Ch. 03



I strongly suggest you read the earlier chapters of the series, as they provide important context about the characters and themes of the series.

**********

I had been back on campus for a couple of weeks after completing my first series of observations and interviews for my study of dommes and their female clients. I was excited that the majority of the participants who I had contacted were willing to participate in the study. That had been one of major concerns when I was designing it, that I would not find willing participants. But so far, that hadn't been an issue.

I was in my office in the psychology building, going through some of my observation notes, when there was a knock on the door.

"C'mon in," I responded.

In walked Tara, my research assistant on the project. She was a third year doctoral student in our department, and had worked with me as an RA for all three years. Like me, she had returned to graduate school a little older, after having had a career as a teacher, so she was already 33. Because she was older than most of the graduate students, and we were not that far apart in age, we had quickly bonded and became friendly shortly after she started working for me.

"Hi Susan," she said upon entering and plopping down in the chair across my desk, laptop in hand. We were familiar enough with each other that she always called me by my first name. "I had a question about this one interview I was transcribing."

"Sure, what is it?"

"It was the interview with subject 1-02, I couldn't make out some of the words at one point, I think because of the background noise. I thought maybe if I played it for you, you would remember what she said."

"Okay," I said, "I'll do my best. Why don't you go ahead and play it, and turn the sound up as high as you can."

"Great, let me just find it." She fiddled with her keyboard until she found the sound file that I had emailed her from my iPhone. She clicked on it, and was looking for the section in question. After a few moments, she found it and clicked "play" on the transcribing program.

I leaned across the desk so I could hear it clearly. I remembered who this woman was; she was 41, married, bisexual, and her husband knew she was a client of Mistress Cecilia's, or MC as I referred to her in my notes. Her husband had no interest in BDSM, and she told me that he was fine with his wife visiting MC on occasion.

As the transcribing program played the recording, I could see why Tara was struggling. There was a lot of background noise in the restaurant where I had met this subject. I listened and took some notes.

After Tara stopped the recording, I said, "Okay, I think what she was talking about there was how she got started in BDSM. She was saying that she had had a girlfriend shortly after college who had introduced her to it."

"Don't worry about getting the exact words," I continued, "just capture the gist of what she told me, that will be fine."

Tara was taking notes on her keyboard as I spoke. "Okay, thanks, that's helpful." She stopped typing, and looked up at me. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, what it is?"

"It's been really interesting transcribing the interviews, both with the clients and the dommes. I mean, this is a whole new world to me before I started working on this project with you, so it's been fascinating." 

"Yes, I know this is new to you," I replied. When I first got approval for the project from the university's Institutional Review Board, I talked to Tara at length about how she would feel working on it with me, given the subject matter. She was enthusiastic from the beginning, and hadn't shown any hesitation. In fact, I was planning on taking her with me to my next set of site visits in Chicago the following week, so she could conduct some of the interviews for me. I hadn't brought her on the first set of site visits, as I felt it would be better for me to do those on my own and see how they went.

"So I'm just curious about one thing," Tara continued. "What was it like to observe the sessions?" 

Tara had access to all of my field notes that we stored in the shared virtual drive I set up for the project, and I knew from other conversations we had had that she had read some of the notes I wrote from the observations of the sessions that the dommes had conducted with their clients.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well, was it hard for you to be watching all of that sexual activity, and maintain your objective, removed role as the researcher? Especially the last one with Mistress Cecilia, where you were right in the room?"

I hesitated a moment before replying. As close as Tara and I had gotten over the last three years, I didn't feel like I could open up to her about how aroused I had gotten in observing some of the sessions. To be truthful, I found all of the sessions arousing to some extent or another. My observation notes from the sessions didn't say anything about how I was reacting, as that was not relevant to the research. And I was also a little embarrassed about how aroused I had felt. 

"I'll admit it was difficult," I told her. "I mean, I've never been in a situation like that, watching people engaging in that kind of behavior, including explicit sex. As much as you try to remain detached as a researcher, it certainly does affect you." As it came out of my mouth, I realized what kind of door I had opened in the conversation.

"Affect you how?" Tara asked.

I didn't want to lie to her, yet also didn't feel like I could be totally honest, so I hedged a little bit in my response. "I'll admit that at times it was hard to maintain my position as a detached researcher. Sometimes I would just be mesmerized, watching what was occurring, and forget to take notes. Then I'd catch myself, and get back to my role as researcher."

Now it was Tara's turn to hesitate. I could see that there was something she wanted to follow up on, but was nervous. Finally, she asked, in somewhat of a shy voice. "Did you find it, you know, erotic?"

At this point, I figured in for a penny, in for a pound. "Yes, I'll admit that I found some of what was going on arousing."

"Even though it was two women?"

"Yes, even though it was two women. I guess for me, Tara, it didn't really matter what the genders were. What mattered was that what they were doing was very erotic, and it was hard not to react to that." 

I was a little worried that she was going to push for more information, but at that point she backed off. "Okay, I was just curious, thanks for being willing to talk to me about it."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "No worries, happy to talk to you."

Tara got up and left my office. I was glad that she didn't push for more details, because I didn't want to let her know what kind of affect what I saw had had on me. Right before she had walked in, I had been reviewing my notes from subject 1-05, the young woman who had engaged in a teacher-student role play with MC. As I thought back to that session a couple of weeks earlier, I found the memory stirring a reaction in me. I recalled how I was thinking about the roles of both the domme and her submissive client, and wondering what it would be like to be in either role. The memories were so clear in my mind that it was as if I could almost rerun a video and see everything that happened vividly, from the young woman removing her t-shirt and showing off her pert breasts with their pierced nipples, to how she licked her mistress's pussy as her ass was being cropped. As I recalled these scenes, I found my arousal growing, and it was probably a good thing that Tara had come in and interrupted my reminiscing.

**********

It was a week later, and Tara and I had arrived at O'Hare Airport in Chicago in mid-morning. As usual, the traffic on the expressway was brutal, and it took almost an hour for our cab to deposit us to our hotel in the Loop. I had an appointment that evening with Lady Amber, the domme who MC had recommended to me. I had called her when I returned to campus a couple of weeks earlier, and she was friendly on the phone, having indicated that MC had already sent her a note about me. But she said she wanted to hold off on a decision about whether to participate in my study until she had a chance to meet me in person.

After we checked in and as we headed to the elevator in our hotel, pulling our suitcases behind us, Tara said to me, "We don't have any appointments this afternoon, you want to walk up to Michigan Avenue and do some shopping? It's supposed to be a nice afternoon."

"I don't think so," I replied. "I want to work on a few things."

"Oh c'mon, don't be such a grind, Susan," Tara said with a smile. "We've got a lot of appointments set up over the next week, so we're not going to have much downtime. This is our one chance to get out and see Chicago."

As much as I wanted to get caught up on work, I knew she had a point. As we got into the elevator, I said with a sigh, "You're right, I do need to take more time for myself and stop working obsessively. Maybe we can grab a bite and walk up to Michigan Avenue."

Tara clapped her hands as I was pressing the button for the 10th floor. "Great, it'll be fun. Maybe I can even get you to update your wardrobe," she said with a wink. Tara was always working on me to dress more stylishly, and less as a "school marm," as she jokingly called my normal work outfits.

We got off on the 10th floor, and walked to our room. Because I had limited funds from the foundation that was paying for the travel expenses for the site visits, I had decided we'd save money by sharing a room.

We got into the room, unpacked, and went back down to the hotel lobby. We started walking toward the Miracle Mile, North Michigan Avenue, where the nice shops were located. We grabbed a quick sandwich, and headed first for Nordstrom's. I had to admit that I was looking forward to at least browsing in some nice shops because I rarely took the opportunity to shop for myself. If I needed new clothes I usually just bought online or went into a store and bought the first things I could see that looked reasonable.

And I knew that Tara would be great to have along for clothes shopping. She pushed me to buy some things that were more stylish than I would normally get, including some outfits for this trip. She convinced me that I didn't have to dress as an academic all the time, even when I was working.

I was also self-conscious about my body. I was carrying about 30-40 pounds more than I wish I had for my height, and I didn't like the way it made me look. Because of this, I tended to wear baggier clothes that didn't show my shape as much. But Tara was great at finding some clothes that were tighter, and showed off my shape, without making me look too fat. In fact, with one knit dress I turned on, she said, "Wow, you look hot," when I walked out of the dressing room.

I blushed, but was pleased. "Really?"

"Yes, it looks great on you," she replied. "You really should wear more clothes like this, and I think they're very appropriate for work. After all, we don't work in a bank or funeral parlor," she said with a laugh.

"Okay, you've convinced me," I laughed back. I agreed to purchase the dress, and some other clothes that she had recommended.

Before I knew it, four hours had passed, and we were walking back to the hotel, bags in hand - Tara had bought a few things as well, but seemed most pleased to be shopping for me -laughing and joking together. I really did appreciate her help, and in many ways thought of her more as a friend than as a research assistant working for me.

We grabbed a light bite in the hotel restaurant for dinner, and as we were finishing up, she asked, "Do you want me to come with you tonight when you meet this new domme?"

"No, I think it would be best for me to meet her alone the first time."

"Okay, I think I might see if there's a movie nearby I can go see."

"That sounds great," I told her. "I imagine with the travel to and from her house, I'll be gone at least a couple of hours."

We returned to our room, and Tara convinced me to wear one of the new fitted dresses I had purchased at Nordstrom's. As I put it on, she sat in the chair in our room and watched. I was a little uncomfortable having her watching me, even though I had my bra and panties on, but I thought it would look silly and untrusting if I went and changed in the bathroom.

As I was looking at myself in the mirror, Tara came up behind me, and started to adjust the dress, pulling on it here and there, smoothing it out, and I felt hand lightly touch my ass. "There, that's better," she said. "It looks great on you." I almost shivered under her touch, and had a flashback to when MC had touched my ass when I was interviewing her. But as I looked again in the mirror, I saw that she was right - her adjustments made it look even better. While I was overweight, I thought that the dress fit nicely around my waist, flaring out over my wide hips and shapely ass. It stopped a respectable inch or two above my knees. It was also low cut in the front, and it nicely showed off the deep cleft of my cleavage, which I thought was one of my better features.

"Thank you Tara, I really appreciate your help this afternoon, and yes, I can admit that this does look good on me."

"It sure does, prof," she said, still standing behind me and looking over my shoulder. "You'll be all set for your meeting with Lady Amber," she continued with a wink.

I looked at the clock on the nightstand between the two queen beds. "I hope so, and speaking of which, I should get going." I put on my watch and shoes, grabbed my purse, and headed for the door.

"Wait," Tara called out before I got there.

I turned back to look at her. "What?"

"I have some jewelry that I think will look good with that." She went into the bathroom, and came back out carrying her jewelry pouch. "Let me try these." She was holding a pearl necklace in her hands. She walked up behind me, placed it around my head, and as she connected the clasp I could feel her breath on the back of my neck. 

"There, that makes the outfit complete," she said. I looked down, and saw the necklace was nestled right down in my cleavage. "That'll help accentuate the girls," she said with a low chuckle.

"Tara!" I admonished her. But I knew that she was right, so just left them. "I'll see you in a couple of hours. I went downstairs, out the front of the lobby, and caught a cab. I gave the driver the address that Lady Amber had provided me, which I knew was in Lincoln Park, about a ten or fifteen minute ride away.

**********

The cab dropped me off in front of a very fashionable town house. There was no name on the doorbell, but just the one bell, so I pushed it. I wasn't sure what to expect; I had had just one brief telephone conversation with Lady Amber, and her website did not provide much information about her.

A few seconds later, the door opened, revealing a casually-dressed woman who appeared about a decade or so younger than my own 43 years. She had short blonde hair, cut in sort of a bob, and was very pretty. She was tall, maybe 5'8" or 5'9", at least a half a foot taller than me, and had what I would describe as a classic voluptuous figure - large breasts and a small waist that flared out to well-defined hips.

"You must be Professor Phillips, please come in," she said with a smile.

"I am, it's nice to meet you," I replied as I entered the foyer of her house. She reached out to shake my hand, and as I put mine in hers, she pulled me in and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. As she did, I caught the scent of a rather intoxicating perfume that I didn't recognize, but it smelled lovely, something with lavender. I thought the kiss was a bit familiar for someone I just met, but I shrugged it off as her attempt to put me at ease. "Please call me Susan.

"Okay, Susan, I will. And please call me Amber," she replied. "Please come on in to my parlor."

We walked from the foyer into a comfortable sitting room in the front of her house that overlooked the street. She pointed to a comfortable-looking upholstered chair and said, "Please sit down. Can I get you something to drink - a cup of tea, a glass of wine perhaps?"

My first thought was that since I was working I shouldn't have a glass of wine. But then I realized this was just a preliminary conversation, to hopefully get her agreement to participate in the study. "Sure," I decided, "that would be nice."

"White or red?" she asked.

"Oh, whatever you have open."

"Fine, I'll be right back." She walked toward the back of the house, where I presumed the kitchen was. I looked around the room, and was impressed. It boasted what looked like some expensive antiques and artwork. I again found myself wondering about just how lucrative this line of work was.

She returned a minute later with two wine glasses and a bottle of red wine, and placed them on a coffee table in front of me, pouring glasses for both of us. She sat on the end of a couch that was perpendicular to my chair, right next to me, with our knees almost touching.

I reached down to pick up my glass of wine, and as I did, I thought I caught Amber staring at my chest. I realized as I bent down that she had a good view of my cleavage, and I was a little self-conscious about the show I was putting on.

She smiled slightly. "So, tell me a little more about your study," she started.

"Well, as I said on the phone, I believe this is one of the first academic studies of dommes and female clients," I said. I continued to describe the study for her, including the approvals I had received, and what I was hoping to get out of it.

"And I understand from Cecilia that you started with her and her clients?"

"Yes, she was extremely helpful."

"What was it like for you to observe her sessions?"

I was surprised by this question, not understanding what she meant. "Excuse me?" I asked.

"How did you feel, sitting there watching another woman get dominated like that?"

I wanted to be careful in how I responded. "Well, I was there as a researcher, so I was focusing on taking notes about what was going on."

"Really?" she responded, looking at me almost incredulously. "You didn't find yourself getting aroused?"

Boy, I thought, she really does cut to the chase. Again, I wanted to be careful in sharing too much about my own reaction to what I had seen, but also felt like I needed to be as upfront as possible with this woman if I was going to be successful in recruiting her into my study. I reached down to get another sip of my wine, in order to buy a little time to consider my response. Once again, I noticed that Amber was looking right at my breasts as I did so, and I saw a slight smile crease her face.

"Well, there were a few times when I can admit that things were very erotic," I told her.

"A few times? From what I heard, it was more than just a few times."

I almost spewed the sip of wine that I was taking. "What do you mean?" I asked her, astonished to hear what she had said.

She laughed, and took a sip of her own wine. "From what Cecilia told me, you enjoyed the sessions you watched quite a bit."

I was getting quite flustered, and I knew I was blushing at this comment. "I. . .I. . .I," I stammered, not sure how to respond.

Amber laughed again, "That's okay, Susan, it's only natural that you would get aroused watching those sessions. I'd worry that there was something wrong with you if you didn't respond to them."

I now felt like I was caught in a bind. I didn't want to admit to her just how aroused I was, how wet my pussy got, how I was worried about leaking all over the chair I sat in during one session, how I went back to my hotel and masturbated in a frenzy more than once. But I also didn't want her to think that there was something wrong with me. 




Sensitive Research Ch. 03



"Yes, it could get arousing," I admitted cautiously, "but I do have to remain as detached as I can to maintain my objectivity as a researcher."

"And did you mind that it was two women you were watching?"

"No, not at all, I don't have any problem with homosexuality," I replied.

"Even though you're straight yourself, right Susan?"

"Yes, I'm straight, but that has nothing to do with my research, and the fact that they were not is okay with me."

"What parts did you like the most?" Amber continued to press me.

I didn't want to get further into this conversation with her, as I felt it was beyond the bounds of professionalism. "I really don't. . ."

She cut me off before I could say anything else. "Susan. If I'm going to trust you enough to allow you to meet my clients, and observe our sessions, I need to understand who you are, how you'll likely react to some of the things you'd be seeing. If you don't think you can be honest with me, then you might as well get up and walk out the door now." Her tone had gotten much less friendlier and more demanding.

I was tempted to just get up and walk out the door, rather than open up to her in a way that I would not be comfortable with. I hesitated, trying to decide what to do, and took a big sip of wine, finishing my glass, in order to buy some time.

Amber clearly saw my hesitation. "And if you do walk out the door, I'll be sure to let my fellow dommes here in the city know that they should be cautious with you as well."

I couldn't believe she was threatening me like this. I had already gotten two dommes to agree to work with me on this trip, and was still counting on recruiting others. I couldn't afford to be blacklisted like this, but also felt very uncomfortable with being threatened in this manner.

I think that Amber may have realized that she had pushed too hard, because she smiled at me once again, and said in a softer, friendlier voice as she refilled my wine glass. "Look, Susan, I'm not trying to make things difficult." She leaned forward so that her face was just inches from mine, and placed her hand on my bare knee, just below my dress. I could smell the scent of lavender on her again, and I could feel the warmth of her hand on my skin. "It's just really important to me - and to my clients - that I understand what I'm getting involved in here. Trust is such an important part of my work, and that's why I have to demand your reciprocation. If I'm going to trust you, that you'll maintain the confidence of my work and my clients, then you're going to have to trust me."

I was terribly conflicted, but as I thought about what she said, I realized that it made sense. How could I expect her to trust my integrity, if I wasn't willing to trust her?

I was very aware that she was still touching my knee, even though she had leaned back a bit so that our faces were not so close. In some ways it felt comforting and reassuring to have her hand there, and helped me convince myself that I could trust her. I'm sure that I was also feeling the glass of wine as well, which was providing a calming effect. I'm not much of a drinker, so when I do drink, it goes to my head fairly quickly.

"Okay, I'll answer your questions as best as I can," I finally said, taking another big sip of my second glass of wine. "I'm sorry, what was it you had asked?"

"I asked which parts of the sessions with Cecilia you saw that you found the most arousing."

I tried to be measured in my response, giving her enough information so that she'd trust me, but still maintaining some aspect of my own privacy. "Well," I started, "I guess the thing I reacted to most was when the submissive was performing sexual acts on Cecilia."

"There, that wasn't so hard now, was it," Amber said, patting my knee gently and smiling at me. She sat back again, and took a sip of her own wine.

"No," I smiled back.

"And as you watched this, did you identify with one of the women more than the other?"

"No, to be honest, I thought about both of the roles."

"So you could have pictured yourself in either one?"

"Whoa, wait a minute," I objected, "I didn't say I could picture myself in either one. I just meant that I could understand why either woman could do what she was doing. Remember, I'm a researcher, and I have done a lot of background reading in preparation for this study, so I have a basic understanding of the psychology of both dominant and submissive personalities."

"So you're saying that you never thought about taking either of those roles yourself?" She continued to push on this issue. My discomfort with the topic continued, but I did my best to tread the line I was trying to maintain.

"Well, not really as I observed the sessions, but more as I was thinking about them afterwards."

"And which role did you picture yourself in more?"

I knew I had to answer, so I fortified myself with another sip of wine, realizing as I put my glass down that I had almost finished the second one as well. Once again, I caught Amber glancing at my breasts as they were displayed by my leaning forward to put my glass down.

She must have realized I caught her, because she said, "By the way, I was just admiring your pearls, they look very nice with that dress."

"Oh thanks," I laughed, happy for the change of topic. "They're my research assistant's, she insisted I wear them tonight. In fact, she helped me buy this dress today at Nordstrom's."

"Well, she has good taste, you're a lucky woman to have her. The dress looks fabulous on you, it accentuates your curves very nicely. And I must say, it shows off your beautiful breasts as well." 

"Thank you," I said, blushing once more in response to her compliment. 

She said no more, looking right at me, waiting for the answer to the question she had posed a moment ago.

"I guess, if I had to see myself in one role, it would be as the submissive," I told her.

"I'm not surprised," Amber replied.

"Really?" I asked, somewhat surprised myself. "Why do you say that?"

"Oh dear, please," she said, as if I should have understood without any explanation. I was very aware that she had used that familiar term "dear" when addressing me, as Cecilia had a number of times. "In my line of work, I have to be very good at reading people's personalities, and categorizing them that way."

"And you can do that so quickly after meeting someone?" I asked.

"Yes, I can," she responded. "And besides," she continued, "that's what Cecilia told me as well."

Once again, I was caught by surprise. "What did she tell you?"

"She said she had you pegged as a submissive from her first conversation with you." She chuckled as she continued, "She's as good as I am at reading people's personalities."

Now I leaned forward toward her. "Wait a minute - I didn't say I was a submissive," I objected to her.

"No, you didn't. But you did admit that between the two roles, you could see yourself more in the submissive one, didn't you?" 

I sat back in my chair again, realizing that she was absolutely right - I had said that. "Yes, I did," I said in a somewhat resigned voice.

She must have picked up on my tone, because once again she softened her own a bit. She leaned forward again and patted my knee. "Susan, please don't be upset. There's absolutely nothing wrong with admitting that between those two polar opposites, the submissive is the one you would gravitate toward."

I was very aware of her hand on my knee again, and I was a bit flustered to realize that she thought that I was being judgmental about submissives. "Tha. . . No. . .I. . ." I stammered, trying to formulate a response. "That's not what I meant," I was finally able to get out in a soft voice, looking down.

"That's okay, no worries," she said, patting me again. "I can't tell you how many women I have met who had submissive fantasies, but had such difficulty admitting it to anyone beyond themselves. Those are exactly the kind of women I think I can help the most. Here, I want to show you something." She got up and walked over to a bookcase on one wall, and removed a book. She sat back down on the couch, and patted the spot next to her. "Come sit next to me so I can show you."

I got up and as I started to walk around the table, realized that I was a little unsteady on my feet. I realized the wine was definitely having an effect on me. I sat next to her on the couch, and as I did, she moved over right next to me so that our knees were touching, sending an electric jolt through my body. I saw that the cover of the book was totally blank - no writing, no photographs, nothing. 

She opened up the book, placing it across our knees, and began to flip slowly through the pages. It was mostly pictures, with just a little bit of text, and all of the pictures were of women in various submissive poses. There were some who were bound and gagged, some had their limbs shackled, spread-eagled on a bed, and others were blindfolded and sexually servicing other women. Every woman appeared to be different; some were young, some old. They were tall and short, white and black, thin and heavy, but all different. And every submissive was naked.

"What is this?" I asked.

"It's a book I use with some of my clients in my first meeting with them, to make them understand that there are many other women out there who are like them. So many of them come in here afraid that they are some kind of freak because of these feelings they have, and I try to assure them that what they're feeling is quite natural."

As she continued to flip through the book as she spoke, I couldn't help myself from becoming aroused by these pictures as much as I tried. And she was right in what she had suggested earlier, that I found myself identifying more with those women in the submissive roles in the pictures than the dominant.

She came to one page that she paused on. As I looked at the photograph, I realized that one of the women in the picture was Amber. She was naked, and squatting with her ass lying on the face of a naked woman, who was clearly performing oral sex on her. Amber's body was amazing; all curves as I noticed when I first came in, with large brown areola and red nipples topping her beautiful breasts. Somewhat to my surprise, I could see in the picture that she had a full growth of public hair on her pussy - for some reason, I just assumed she would be shaved. Seeing the picture of this woman who was sitting next to me, our knees touching, the smell of her lavender perfume strong in my nostrils, caused my pussy to begin to leak even more. My first thought was surprisingly that I hoped I didn't leak through my panties and ruin the new dress, but then I became worried that Amber would realize how I was reacting.

"Yes, that is me," she said with a smile. "This is a very limited edition book that some other dommes and I had made. We hired a professional photographer to take the photographs and had the book printed. What do you think of these?" she asked.

Again, I tried to deflect her prodding as best as I could. "The photography is beautiful, whoever took the pictures has a great sense of framing and lighting."

Amber chuckled. "Yes, she does. But I'm interested in more than just your critiquing of the artwork. How do the photographs make you feel?"

I suspect that she would know I was lying if I was anything other than truthful. "They are very erotic," I admitted.

"Yes, they are." She closed the book, and placed it on the table in front of us. She picked up my wine glass and handed it to me. "You have just a little bit left, why don't you go ahead and finish it."

I took the glass from her, our fingers brushing as I did so, again sending a little jolt through my body. I did as she suggested, deciding that a little more wine might be enough to settle my nerves. I put the glass, now empty, back down on the table.

"Susan, would you do something for me?" she asked.

"What?"

"Would you go stand over there," she said, pointing to a spot on the other side of the coffee table.

I hesitated, not sure what she was doing. She must have sensed my worry, because she followed up by saying, "I just want to see how that dress hangs on you, because I really like it. Since we have similar bodies, I'd think about getting it for myself."

I smiled, relieved that that was her explanation. I was in fact flattered, because I considered her body - especially after seeing the picture of it naked - to be much nicer than mine. I got up, still feeling the effect of the wine, and walked around the table to stand facing her a few feet on the other side of it. I adjusted and smoothed out the dress as Tara had done for me, and as I did so I surreptitiously felt my ass to make sure the dress was not wet from the dampness I knew had permeated my panties. Thankfully I could not feel anything back there.

Amber gazed at me, clearly running her eyes up and down my body, taking it all in. "Very nice, it really does hug your body well," she said. "Turn for me, please, so I can see the back."

I did as she requested, revolving slowly, to show her all sides.

"Nordstrom's you said?"

"Yes," I replied.

"Well, I like it a lot. I will have to see if they have my size."

I went to go back to the chair I had been sitting in earlier, but Amber stopped me. "Wait, don't move yet." I stopped, looking at her.

She didn't say anything, but just stood there, continuing to look at me. I was getting very uncomfortable, but didn't want to let her know I was, so I just waited. She took another sip of her wine. It must have been a minute before she spoke again, leaning forward toward me.

"Susan, take off your dress for me."

I was shocked at the words that came out of her mouth. "What? I can't do. . ." I started.

But she cut me off. "Susan, take off your dress," she repeated, in a somewhat sharper voice.

I didn't want to do it and knew I shouldn't, but there was something in her tone that caused me to want to comply with her. I hesitated once again, trying to resist, but I knew that I had to do it.

She watched me, not saying a word. She could see my resistance breaking down, and she simply nodded to urge me along.

I finally raised the courage to lift my arms and begin to lower the zipper in the back of the dress. As Amber saw me complying with her command, a triumphant smile came across her lips. She grabbed her wine glass, and sat back in the couch, never taking her eyes off of me.

After lowering the zipper, I shrugged the dress off of my shoulders, and lowered it down over my hips. As it reached the floor, I picked it up and dropped it on the table.

"That's not the way you take care of a dress, my dear," she admonished me. "Fold it nicely."

I did as she said, and placed the folded dress back on the table. As I did so, I glanced at my cotton panties, and could see a small wet spot on the gusset. Embarrassed, I hoped that Amber would not notice. I stood back up trying my best to cover my bra and panties with each arm.

"That's better, but you need to put your hands down. There's nothing to be ashamed of, you have a lovely body my dear."

I reluctantly dropped my hands, placing them at my side. 

Amber got up, wine glass in hand, and came across to my side of the table. She proceeded to walk slowly around me a couple of times, just a foot or so away, as I stood there motionless, blushing profusely. "Yes, you have a very nice body, especially for someone your age. What are you, 39 or 40?" 

"43," I said in a soft voice.

"43? Very impressive. You're carrying a few extra pounds, of course, but it looks very good on you." As embarrassed as I was, I appreciated her compliment, even though I knew that my body couldn't hold a candle to hers. It helped put me at ease, or at least as at ease as I could be in the position I was in.

She sat back down again. "Now the rest of it."

While I was afraid in the back of my mind that this was coming, I still was shocked to hear her say it. "Amber, please, I can't. . . .," I began protesting.

"Now, Susan." The stern voice was back.

I knew I was powerless, that I had to do it. Even though my mind was telling me it was wrong, there was something deep inside of me that wanted it to happen. I slowly raised my arms and reached behind my neck again, this time to release the clasp of the pearls.

"Not those, leave them on," she commanded.

I complied, not questioning the command, and lowered my hands to reach behind my back and undo my bra straps. I leaned a forward a bit, allowing the straps to slide off my shoulders, followed by the cups off of my breasts. As my large breasts flopped down toward my belly I saw to my continued embarrassment that my nipples were fully erect, another indication of the arousal which I was feeling. 

I started to drop the bra on the floor, and then remembering Amber's prior admonishment, I folded it nicely and stepped forward to put it on the table next to my dress. I then put my thumbs in the waistline of my panties, and began pushing them down my legs. As I looked down, I saw to my horror that the small wet spot I had earlier noticed on the gusset had grown in size, and now had spread onto the front of them as well. I glanced up at Amber, to see if she had noticed, but she was only staring at the show I was putting on, no sign of recognition or other emotion on her face. 

I quickly dropped the panties onto the floor, then picked them up, folded them with the wet spot on the inside, and placed them on the table as well. I then kicked off my shoes, putting them next to the table, and returned to the spot I had been occupying. I was now totally naked in front of her, other than the pearls around my neck.

Amber just watched this whole display, and when I finished, a smile crossed her face. She took another sip of her wine. "Lovely, dear, just lovely. You have nothing to be ashamed of as well. Now, doesn't that feel better, doing as you are told, and standing there naked in front of me?"

I listened to her question, and while the truth was that I felt a sense of relief at having her take charge, I could not allow myself to admit that to her. I was so taken over by the emotion of the situation, the conflicting feelings that were overwhelming my mind and my body, that I felt a tear begin to roll down my cheek, and no words would come out of my mouth.

Amber must have noticed the tear, because she put her glass down, and walked around the table and came over to me. I thought she was going to hug me, or reassure me in some way, but she simply lifted her hand, and with her finger caught the tear that was descending my cheek. "Tsk, tsk," she said, her face very close to mine, almost touching. "I know this is hard for you, my pet, but you're doing very well. Just you listen to me, and do as I say, and everything will be okay. Won't it?"

Hearing the word "pet" only stirred up the emotions wracking my mind even further. I knew what that meant, and even though I knew what she had been doing to me, hearing that word was like a cold glass of water thrown in my face. But I was powerless to do anything other than to listen to her words and comply.

I choked back my tears, and managed to get out a very soft, "Yes."

"Yes, what, my pet?" she responded.

I crossed the next threshold, giving her the response she wanted to hear. "Yes, Lady Amber."

"Much better," she replied, and walked back and sat on her spot on the couch. "Now are you ready to do as I say, pet?"

"Yes Lady Amber," I said again in a small voice.

"Good, let's continue," she went on. "Clasp your hands behind your head."

I did as she asked, knowing that this would thrust my large breasts out toward her even further. My nipples maintained their erect state, responding to this woman's dominance, and my first submission to another woman. I knew that my pussy would be responding as well, and I could only hope that she would not notice.




Sensitive Research Ch. 03



"Ah, yes, that shows off your breasts very nicely. That are quite large - what are those, about a 40D, my dear?"

"No, ma'am," I replied, trying my best to anticipate how she wanted me to respond. "I normally wear a 40DD."

"Even bigger than I thought," she said with a chuckle. "Very impressive, I'm sure you must get a lot of looks from men." She looked into my eyes, and I realized after a few seconds she was waiting for a response.

"I guess so, I don't really know," I mumbled. "I really don't notice that kind of thing."

"Really?" she asked, incredulously. "You mean you don't pay attention to when men, or women for that matter, are looking at your body? Don't you date, little one?"

I really didn't want to get into my personal life with her, but I had crossed so many boundaries already, I felt that I had little to lose by answering her question. "Not very much," I responded. "What with work and everything else, it just hasn't been a priority for me."

"Too bad," she said, shaking her head, "because I'm sure men would enjoy pawing at those big tits. And I bet you like having them pawed at." The crudeness of her language stung.

"Okay, now turn around for me again. I want to look at that big ass of yours, now that your clothes are off."

Her comment about my ass stung almost as much as the crudeness with which she had referred to my breasts. I knew my ass was big, and I was very sensitive about it, but it didn't help to have it pointed out to me by her. I did as she asked though, keeping my hands behind my head, and when I had rotated 180 degrees, I heard her say, "Stop." I did, not being able to see what she was doing. It was at least another 30 seconds before I heard her next command. "Okay, now bend at the waist and place your hands on the ground in front of you."

"Oh god," I thought, "this is all I need, to be thrusting my ass out in front of her." But I was so far into my submission to her, I had no resistance left whatsoever. I lowered my hands, and leaned forward, feeling Tara's pearls reaching down to the floor below me as my hands made contact with the ground.

"Now hold that position, pet," she said. I could feel the blood rushing to my head, making me even dizzier than I had already been from the effects of the wine and what this woman was doing to me. I did my best to maintain the position, even knowing the view that this domme had from behind me.

A few seconds passed, and then I heard movement behind me, and I sensed Amber standing right behind me. "Spread your legs wider," she commanded. 

Once again, I thought, "Oh god, please don't make me do this," because I knew that spreading my legs wider would reveal the seeping wetness between them. I hesitated, hoping that she would spare me this indignity, but the next thing I felt was a sharp slap on my right ass cheek, with the sound of a loud "smack." It was everything I could do to maintain my balance, and not go toppling forward.

"I told you to do something," she said in a sharp voice, "now do it."

"Yes Lady Amber," I quickly replied, hoping to spare another spanking from her. I shuffled my legs outward, as far as they could comfortably go, knowing what the result would be. As I did so, I got a whiff of my own arousal for the first time, and I had no doubt that she was receiving the same stimulation of her senses.

Sure enough, I quickly felt her fingers on my pussy, as she wiped up some of the moisture that had accumulated there. From my upside down position, I saw her kneeling down, bringing her head in closer proximity to my own. "Just as I thought," she said with a sneer, "you're leaking like a rusty pipe, because you're enjoying what I'm doing to you, aren't you, you slut?"

Once again, I felt the tears returning, and all sense of resistance totally eliminated, I sobbed, "Yes, ma'am."

She took her two fingers that had been rubbing my pussy, put them at my lips, and pushed. "Clean them off, pet," she said.

I opened my mouth and began to run my tongue over her fingers, tasting my own pussy juices for the first time. I continued to cry, doing my best to hold back the sobs, not wanting her to know how defeated I felt. After about ten seconds, she pulled them back out of my mouth again, and stood back up.

"Okay, stand up," she ordered.

I did so, wiping away a few tears as I rose.

"Turn back around and put your hands back up," Amber said as she went and sat down once again. I turned and faced the couch.

"Tell me how you feel, pet."

I continued to try to hold back the sobs, and managed to get out in soft voice, "Please Lady Amber, don't make me do this."

"I'm not making you do anything, my dear. You are free to put your clothes on and walk out the door at any moment."

I knew that she was correct, that everything I had done up to this point was done of my own volition. While I knew that I could do just that - walk out the door, I also knew that I would not, and that I would stay and do as she commanded.

"I know ma'am," I responded, "it's just that it's so hard for me to talk about."

"Oh, I know, sweetie," she said, now in a soothing voice, "but if we're going to get you to understand who you truly are, what you truly want out of life, then we're going to have to talk about it. Isn't that what you want?"

"That's not what I came here for. I came here so you would participate in my study." The absurdity of the fact that I was carrying on this discussion with her in the state in which I found myself - nude, other than for a set of pearls, with my hands behind my head - hit me at that point.

"I know, but I had a long conversation with Cecilia about you when she called me, and as I told you, she was convinced that you were a submissive yourself. She also felt that you, and more importantly, your research, would benefit if you came to that understanding sooner rather than later. She also believes that you are more suited for relationships with women, than with men, that you will find much more sexual and emotional fulfillment if you open yourself up to other women, as well as to submission."

She continued, "Cecilia truly is interested in your research study, and wants to see you succeed. And she was afraid that your own inhibitions, your own repressed desires, would prevent you from doing that."

These words stunned me. Here I was, the one with a Ph.D. in psychology, and yet it was Mistress Cecilia who based on just a few meetings with me had intuited these feelings and desires that I clearly had deeply repressed. The magnitude of this revelation shook me to my core, and I found myself growing very tired from the emotions and having been standing like this in front of Lady Amber.

"Please, ma'am, may I sit down?" I pleaded with her.

"No, pet, you will sit when I tell you it is time. Now answer my question: How are you feeling?"

I knew that I had to continue, to give her what she wanted. And as much as I may have wanted to question Mistress Cecilia's amateur diagnosis of my psyche, I was afraid that there was enough of a kernel of truth in it that if I didn't continue on this path toward discovering who I truly was, that I would regret it later.

I sighed, giving in to my fate. "I'm feeling very conflicted Lady Amber," I started, formulating my thoughts as they tumbled out of my mouth. "One instinct is to run away, to get out of here and never see you again. But the other feeling I have is to stay right here, doing as you ask. And so far, it is the latter that is winning out."

"Why do you think that is, my pet?"

"I don't. . .I can't. . ." I stumbled with an answer.

"Oh, come on, you are a psychologist," she said, almost in a mocking tone. "Surely you can figure it out."

I paused, thinking about it some more before I tried to answer. I was conscious of the aching in my arms from having held them up for so long. But I knew she would not grant me relief until I was able to arrive at the point to where she was guiding me.

"I guess it is because I realize that I need to understand these things about myself," I started, and as more words came out, it became easier to articulate it. "I need to confirm to my own satisfaction that what Cecilia - excuse me, Mistress Cecilia - said about me is really true." Lady Amber smiled faintly as I corrected my own reference to Mistress Cecilia.

"Yes, I think you are correct," she responded. "You have chosen to stay here, and do as I command of you I suspect, because of your own need to discover whether this is a true desire of yours. Your own curiosity and need for self-revelation has overcome your flight instinct."

"Now that we are in agreement on that, " she continued, "the question becomes: Just how far can we take you down the path toward discovery?"

"What do you mean, ma'am?" I asked her.

She rose once again, and walked around the table to stand in front of me, face to face, no more than a foot apart. Without notice, she reached up, and placed my right nipple between her thumb and forefinger, and squeezed gently. Much to my dismay I felt my nipple immediately respond, growing even larger than it had already been.

"What I mean, pet, is just how far are you willing to go right now to discover your own submissive nature, and how much you will respond to the touch of a woman?" With that, she started squeezing my nipple harder, increasing the pressure bit-by-bit, and eliciting a gasp from me. "Shhh," she admonished. It was all I could do to keep my hands behind my head and not try to swat her hand away from my breast.

She continued the squeezing until I thought I would not able to take it anymore, but I was able not to react, and then she stopped. Once again, tears started coming to my eyes, but I wasn't sure if it was because of the pain of my nipple being tortured, or because of the psychological trauma of what I was enduring.

Lady Amber saw my reaction, and her tone turned warmer. She reached up and started stroking my cheek. "Oh, my little pet, it's okay to cry. I know how difficult this is for you."

That little act of kindness opened up the floodgates, and the tears started flowing. I dropped my hands to my sides, and started sobbing, naked in front of this woman against whom I felt powerless.

Lady Amber continued to exhibit kindness, reaching and putting her arms around me for a hug. I put my head against her, and with our height difference, it was resting against her breast. I was continuing to cry, and she took one hand and began to stroke my hair to comfort me, whispering in my ear, "That's okay, pet, let it all out."

Her comforting me started to work, and after a minute or so, I was able to pull myself together once again and stop sobbing. But her hand held my head to her breast, continuing to stroke it, making me feel even better. Her warm touch, softness of her breast, and soothing words were reassuring me that everything would, in fact, be okay.

After another couple of minutes of this, she pulled my head off her breast, looked me in the eyes, and asked, "You know we need to continue, don't you?" 

I choked back another sob, and said softly, "Yes, Lady Amber."

"That's a good girl, now come here, dear." In any other situation, I would have been insulted to have someone call me by such demeaning names, but I now found myself becoming numb to it. She took me by the hand, and walked me back to the couch. "Wait here," she said, leaving me standing between the couch and coffee table. She walked around the other side of the table, and I saw her retrieving a small cloth bag that was on the floor near the bookcase. She came back to the couch and sat down near the middle of it, placing the bag on the coffee table.

"Okay, pet, here's what I want you to do. I want you to come here, and lie face down, across my lap, with your head on this pillow." She put a pillow on one side of her, and patted it, indicating where my head was to go.

I complied with her, laying myself across her body as she directed. Positioning my head sideways on the pillow placed my pussy right across Lady Amber's lap, and I was once again aware of how wet my pussy had become. I knew that she was aware as well just how much everything she had been doing to me had turned me on.

I felt her body shift a bit, and I could see her reach forward and pick up the bag from the coffee table, and she placed it next to her on the couch, between my prone body and the back of the sofa. 

Lady Amber began rubbing my back gently, and she leaned down closer to my head. "We're going to continue your path to self-discovery now, my pet. Are you ready?"

I was somewhat fearful of what this meant, but I had no resistance left in me. "Yes, ma'am," I replied.

"Good, sweetie," she said, "you just do as I tell you and I promise you that everything will be fine. Are you familiar with what a safe word is?"

I knew what she was talking about from the research I had done in preparation for my study. Hearing her ask this, however, only raised my anxiety level another notch, but I answered her question. "Yes, ma'am."

"Great, so here's your safe word: Freud. Now repeat it back to me, so we're clear."

"My safe word is Freud, Lady Amber," I responded.

"I thought that would be an easy one for you to remember," she said with a chuckle.

"Okay, I'm going to start by warming up your big round ass, lying right in front of me here, so you can get used to my doing that. Do your best not to make too much noise, pet, because I don't want to have to gag you. That would make it a little difficult for you to use your safe word, now wouldn't it?"

I was terrified to hear her say this, as I had never been spanked in my life, at least not since I was a small child. And I didn't know what to expect, and what my pain threshold would be. But once again I knew that I had to try this if I was going to truly discover this potentially new path in my life. "Yes, ma'am," I responded, the sense of fear I knew quite evident in my voice.

"We're going to start with ten spankings for you, pet, five on each of your bulbous cheeks. Are you ready?"

I knew that this was it - either I got up and bolted at this point, given the fear I was feeling, or I had to go through with whatever she had planned for me tonight. 

I hesitated only momentarily before responding, "Yes, Lady Amber, I am ready."



Sensitive Research Ch. 04



I strongly suggest you read the earlier chapters of the series, as they provide important context about the characters and themes of the series.

**********

Once I had consciously decided to stay in Lady Amber's home, and not leave when she told me that she was going to spank me, I knew I had chosen to explore my submissive side. If you had told me when I walked into her home that I would be lying here, naked and draped across her lap waiting to be spanked, I would have looked at you like you were crazy. And yet here I was, exactly in that position.

I had my head facing down into the sofa, and could not see anything; there was no sound, other than the soft rustle of Lady Amber breathing. She wasn't moving, other than her breathing. I waited, my body tensed, for what seemed like a long time, but I'm sure it was less than a minute. Finally I felt her body move, and I knew it was beginning.

**********

It was a couple of hours later, and I was in the cab on my way back to the hotel. I took my mobile out of my purse, and saw that I had two missed calls and two texts from my research assistant Tara. I had forgotten I had turned the ringer off before I got to Lady Amber's house. I looked at the texts first, and saw that Tara was checking in to see why I wasn't back yet. There was also a voicemail from her with the same question. 

Looking at the phone, I realized I had been at Lady Amber's for almost three hours, much longer than I thought the visit would be. Tara must have come back from her movie and was worried that I hadn't returned yet. I looked out the window of the cab, and saw that we were just a few minutes away from the Loop, so I decided not to call or text her back.

The cab pulled in front of the hotel, and I paid the driver. I went into the hotel and took the elevator to the 10th floor. Walking down the hall, I took my key card out of my purse, and put it in the slot of our room. But before I could get it in all the way, the door flew open.

"Where have you been?" Tara almost shouted at me.

"Shhh," I said to her, walking into the room. "Do you want to wake the whole hotel?"

I walked by her and put my purse on the bed, putting my key card and phone into it. Tara closed the door and followed me into the room. "Sorry," she said, "I was just worried when I got back to the room and you weren't here yet. And then you didn't respond to my calls or texts."

"I had turned off the ringer when I was meeting Lady Amber," I explained as I closed my bag, "and forgot to look at it until I was almost back here."

As I looked up, I noticed Tara was staring at me, standing just a foot or so away from me. I shrunk back a bit to get away from her intense gaze.

"What happened to you?" she asked, still staring at me.

"What do you mean?" I replied.

"Your face - it's a mess!"

I didn't know what she was talking about at first, but then quickly realized that she must be right. With everything that had happened at Lady Amber's, including my crying, my face must have been a mess. 

I tried to laugh it off. "Well thanks for the compliment," I responded with what I knew was a lame joke.

"Susan, I'm serious - look at you." She put her hands on my shoulders, and gently turned me to face the mirror over the desk. One look was all it took to confirm she was right. I don't wear a lot of makeup, but the little bit I was wearing had run all over my face. My eyes were puffy, and anybody - especially another woman - would have realized I had been crying.

"I. . .it was. . . there. . ." I tried to say something, but couldn't put the words together in a coherent sentence. I walked over to the bed and sat down on it, looking down at my feet.

Tara came over and sat next to me. "What happened?" she asked again, this time in a gentler tone.

"Nothing, I really don't want to talk about it," I responded, almost in a whisper. I couldn't tell Tara what happened tonight, but I also didn't want to lie to her. I had too much respect for her to do that.

"Susan, I was worried about you." When I didn't respond, she put a finger under my chin, gently turning my face toward hers and lifting it to look into my eyes. "You were gone an awfully long time, and now you come back looking like this."

I looked at her and said, "Not now Susan. I'm just tired and want to go to bed. Trust me, everything's okay. We've got a big day tomorrow, so I want to get some sleep."

She stared back at me for a moment, "Okay, but if you do want to talk about it, just let me know."

I smiled at her, and patted her knee. "Thanks, I appreciate it. But right now I think I need to get this mess off of my face." I got up and undid the zipper on my dress, pulling it over my head. I placed it on a hanger in the closet, and walked into the bathroom in my bra and panties. The cool water I splashed on my face felt good. I took a makeup removal pad, and rubbed it all over my face to get the vestiges of my makeup off. 

After brushing my teeth, I went to the door, telling Tara, "Just need to go pee, I'll be right out." After closing the door, I pulled down my panties, and as I did so, I could see the stain in the gusset, the evidence of the state of arousal in which Lady Amber had placed me. I stood on my toes with my back to the mirror, looking over my shoulder at my ass. It was difficult to see, as I was just a little too short, but I could see that both cheeks were still pretty red, even though the spankings Lady Amber had laid upon them had been done a couple of hours ago already. But there was no question you could see the effects of her handiwork.

I pulled my panties back up, flushed the toilet, and walked back out into the room. "All yours," I told Tara, smiling at her. "There, do I look better now?"

She looked at me, a sense of concern still evident on her face, but she managed to smile. "Yes, you do," she replied.

When she went into the bathroom, she left the door open as she was washing up. I was tempted to look at the marks on my ass in the full length mirror on the wall, but did not want to take a chance of having Tara come out while I was doing so. I took my bra off and then put my sleep t-shirt on. It was barely long enough to cover my ass, but it was very comfortable and all I had brought to sleep in, so it would have to do. Once my ass was safely covered, I rolled my panties down my legs again, and threw them into the bottom of the closet.

I got into bed as Tara was coming out of the bathroom. I pulled up the covers, turned off the light on my side of the night stand, and said, "Good night, sleep well."

"You too," she responded, as she was sliding her jeans down her legs, facing away from me. As she did so, I couldn't help but notice her panty-clad ass. Tara was a couple of inches taller than me, and not as heavy as I was, but was still certainly very shapely. She looked very nice in the panties, a reasonable waist flaring out to a good pair of hips, and two nicely rounded ass cheeks between them.

She pulled her t-shirt over her head, still facing away from me, and reached behind her and unfastened her bra, sliding it down her arms. I was momentarily disappointed that she was facing away from me, not affording me a view of her breasts. They were not as large as my own 40DDs, but they were still a very nice size. I tried to put this thought out of my head and started to close my eyes. As they were closing, the last thing I saw was her pulling a short nightgown on, and then switched off her light. 

I tried to put everything that had happened tonight out of my head, and sleep. It wasn't easy, as all of the images kept swirling around inside my head, but after a short while, the exhaustion caught up with me and I fell asleep.

**********

I was still waiting for Lady Amber's first spanking. Finally, without any notice, I felt her body twitch slightly and then felt a sharp slap on my right ass cheek, the one closest to Lady Amber. An involuntary "ow" escaped my mouth before I could stifle it. This was followed by an incredible warming feeling on my ass where she had just hit me.

I felt her hand rubbing my back, as if to soothe me. "There, there, my little sub," she said, "remember what I said. You need to keep quiet, or I'm going to have to gag you."

"Yes, Lady Amber, I. . ." I started, but before I could go any further she interrupted me.

"I want you to start calling me 'Mistress'," she said, "because that's what I am now, your Mistress. Isn't that right?"

Forcing me to acknowledge her dominance over me by using this title was just one more step along the path to degradation, I knew, but I had no choice. "I'm sorry, Mistress, I'll do my best to keep quiet."

"Well, there better be no sound coming out of your mouth, my dear, otherwise there will be additional punishments." And with that, I felt her body twitch again and the second blow landed, this time on the other cheek. It was all I could do not to cry out once again, but I concentrated hard, bit my lip, and managed to absorb the pain without a sound. Once again, I felt the familiar warming on my ass.

"Much better, my pet," Lady Amber praised me. "Now let's see if you can keep that up."

She hit me with four more slaps in quick succession, two on each cheek. Concentrating hard and focusing, I was able to keep my mouth shut, and endure the pain without a sound. Lady Amber paused for some reason, perhaps to give me a chance to catch my breath - or perhaps a chance for her to catch hers.

Another 30 seconds or so went by, and then I felt her hands on the inside of my thighs. She was gently pushing them apart on her lap. I complied, spreading them and thus I knew putting my pussy on even more display for her. I felt her run a finger between my lips, which were still very wet.

"Just as I thought," she said, "you're turned on by this you little slut, aren't you?"

"No, Mistress, I'm not," I said, trying to deny the obvious. She just laughed at me.

"Your lips may so 'no," she responded, still laughing, "but your other lips are telling a very different story." She placed her finger right under my nose, forcing me to inhale the scent of my own arousal, confirming that I was lying to her. She removed her finger, and before I knew it, had jammed it into my pussy. I almost jumped right off her lap at the shock and had to stifle a gasp. As quickly as she put it in, she pulled it out again, and I felt it near my mouth.

"Open up," she said in a stern voice, no longer laughing. I complied with her request, opening my lips, and she eased the sopping finger into my mouth. "Clean it off," she ordered.

I quickly sucked on Lady Amber's finger, running my finger over it. I had tasted my own juices out of curiosity when I masturbated once, many years ago, and this act refreshed that memory in my mind.

After a few seconds she removed her finger, and then I felt her shift slightly on the couch. I realized she was reaching for something. "Are you ready for your last four spankings?" she asked.

"Yes, Mistress," I replied, steeling myself for the remainder.

"Good girl, now keep those legs spread wide just like they are." I felt her body jerk, and then felt - and heard - a sharp "thwack" on my right ass cheek. It was much sharper than before, and before I knew it, an "arrggh" sound came out of my mouth.

"Oh you poor thing, I caught you by surprise, didn't I?" Lady Amber asked. I realized that she must have picked up some kind of implement and used it to hit me with. I couldn't tell if it was a paddle, or something else flat, but it hurt a lot more than her bare hand did. "That's okay, I'm not going to punish you further for making noise, since I surprised you with that," she said.

"Thank you, Mistress," I responded, wondering if I'd be able to survive the remaining three hits in silence.

The last three slaps with the implement hurt even more than the first because with my legs spread as wide as they were, Lady Amber managed to hit very close to my asshole, on a very sensitive part of my cheeks. I decided it must have been some kind of paddle, as it seemed like there was an awful lot of surface contact with my ass. I managed to choke back the tears that were still welling up in my eyes, caused by the humiliation of the situation as much as by the pain I had endured. It was everything I could do not to reach back and try to gently massage my cheeks, to get rid of the burning sensation. 

But before I could do that, I felt Lady Amber's bare hand once again rubbing my cheeks in a soothing fashion. "I know how much that must have hurt you, my little pet, but you did very well. Barely a peep out of you after I warned you," she said.

She continued rubbing both of my cheeks gently, and as she moved her hand around, I could feel her finger glide along my butt crack, just grazing my asshole, as she switched from cheek to cheek. That little bit of contact made me twitch; I've always been very sensitive back there, and while I had not had much experience with anal play, I did have a couple of lovers who would touch me there. It had felt good, but none had ever gone beyond a light touch.

After about a minute, she stopped rubbing, and I felt her lean over once again and heard her rummaging in the bag she had placed next to her on the couch. I then heard what sounded like the sound of a squeeze bottle, followed by the sensation of a cool liquid on one of my ass cheeks. 

"This will help take the sting away, my pet," she explained as she gently rubbed some kind of lotion in a circular motion all around my cheek. "It's aloe, which will help make it much more bearable for you."

I had recovered enough that I felt I could speak again without breaking down and crying. "Thank you, Mistress," I managed to say in a soft voice.

She proceeded to squeeze out the aloe lotion on my other cheek, and gently rubbed it into that one as well. As she did this, every third or fourth time she circled my ass one of her fingers would dip into my ass crack again, and then even further down to graze my pussy, which was still wet. I hated that my body was reacting in this way, but there was nothing I could do to stop it.

Lady Amber clearly noticed it as well as she continued to rub me. "I see you're still dripping out of your little pussy now, aren't you my dear?" 

I didn't reply at first, and then felt a light spanking on the cheek she had been rubbing. "I asked you a question," she admonished.

"Yes, Mistress, I am wet down there," I replied.

"That's better - when I ask you a question, I expect a response. Down where, sweetie?"

"My pussy, ma'am," I clarified.

"That's right, it's your pussy that's dripping so much, and do you know what that tells me?"

I knew the answer, but didn't want to say it aloud. "No, Mistress, I don't."

"Oh sure you do," she responded. "It means that all of my spankings, all of this humiliation, has been a big fat turn on for you, hasn't it?"

I had no choice but to acknowledge the obvious. "Yes, ma'am, I guess it does."

"As I told you, I knew all along this would get you off. After what Cecilia told me about you, I was pretty certain you were a sub, but that you just didn't realize the depth of your need for submission. But we both certainly know that now, don't we sweetie?"

"Yes, Mistress, I do realize that now."

She stopped her rubbing and reached for the lotion bottle once more. I heard her squeeze it again, but didn't feel anything on my ass this time. But then I felt her hand touch me once more, with the cool sensation of the aloe lotion on it. Instead of rubbing my cheeks, however, she ran her fingers up and down my ass crack. The sensation was so erotic, but I didn't want her to know how it was affecting me, so I did my best to hold still. But once again, my dripping pussy gave my arousal away. I could feel that it was so wet that I must have been soaking Lady Amber's dress.

And then I felt the tip of her finger on my asshole, gently sweeping a small circle around it. I could not help reacting to this, and drew in an audible breath. She continued to do this, and then leaned down and whispered in my ear, "Just relax, my little pet, and let your Mistress play with your big fast ass a little bit."

"Yes, ma'am," I responded, as she increased the pressure. The circles grew smaller in diameter, until the tip of her finger was right on top of my rosebud, and then with one quick push, I felt it enter. I drew in another breath as I experienced the sensation of being anally violated for the first time. She rotated her finger a bit, and as she did, she continued the gentle pressure, until I felt the rest of her hand against my ass cheeks. I knew she had pushed the finger in all the way, and I had a feeling of fullness back there I had never experienced before. It was a little uncomfortable, not in a painful way, just a little bit of soreness.

She continued to rotate her finger, now fully inserted into my asshole, and then pulled it out a bit, and pushed back in, as if she was fucking my ass with it. It was actually becoming a little pleasurable. And then I felt her other hand reach down lower between my legs, and she inserted two fingers into my pussy. With all the juices I had secreted, they slipped right in with no resistance at all. She started to mirror what she was doing with her other hand in my ass, pulling the fingers out, then pumping them back in.

After about a minute of this, I realized that I was building toward an orgasm. The sensation caught my surprise, as I rarely experienced vaginal orgasms with the men I had dated over the years. I was able to achieve them on my own, using a dildo, but almost never with someone else. My breathing started to accelerate, and I felt my body moving in concert with her fingers. It was getting closer and closer - and then she stopped. She held perfectly still, both of my holes filled with her fingers. It was agony to be so close but yet not be able to go over the brink.

"Not yet, my little pet - you won't cum until I give you permission," Lady Amber said. And with that, she removed all of her fingers from my pussy and my ass. I groaned in frustration, causing her to laugh once again. "You'll cum when I'm good and ready to let you cum, but not before. Now stand up."

I put my arms under my body, and slowly pushed myself off of her couch. As I rose up off of her dress, I was mortified to see a huge wet stain right under where my pussy had been lying on her. I knew it was from me, and it only heightened my embarrassment. Lady Amber must have seen me looking down at the mess I made, because she said, "Yes, your fat pussy leaked all over my dress. Such a shame, I hope the stain comes out."

I tried not to make eye contact with her, and stood next to the couch, a couple of feet away from her. She rose, standing next to me, and reached down and lifted the hem of her dress, pulling the entire dress up and over her head. "Might as well take this off, since you managed to get it all stained."

I looked at her body, and was envious of its voluptuousness. Without her dress, standing there in just a bra and panties, I could see that she was sexier than I had thought when I first met her. Her breasts were almost perfect; not as large as mine, but there was no sag whatsoever, at least not with the bra that she was wearing. While I had seen a picture of them in the book she had shown me, they were even more impressive in person. I could see her prominent nipples poking through the thin fabric. Her tight waist flared out to hips that were not too wide, yet very womanly.

She stepped forward and lifted one end of the cocktail table, moving it a few feet further away from the couch. She then walked around the front of it, and repeated the action on the other end of the table. She then returned to the front of the couch, and turned away from me. As she did, I could not help but admire her panty-clad ass, beautifully shaped - again, like her hips, not too large but a perfect shape to compliment the top half of her body.




Sensitive Research Ch. 04



She turned to look at me over her shoulder and said, "Help me out sweetie, undo my bra for me."

I hesitated for a second, surprised to receive this request from her, but then said, "Yes, ma'am," and reached out and undid the three hooks on the back of her bra.

"Thank you, you're a dear," she smiled at me.

She let the bra straps slip off of her shoulders, and released the bra into her hands in front of her. She tossed it onto the coffee table. Looking over her shoulder at me again, she said, "Now help me with my panties."

I reached down and put my hands on the side of her hips, grasping the waistband of her panties. I started to tug them down, and only got an inch or so downward, just a little below the top of her ass crack when I heard her say, "Stop."

I froze, unsure if I had done something wrong. She looked at me once more and said, "I don't want you to use your hands."

I looked at her somewhat confused. "I'm sorry Mistress, what do you want me to do?"

"Well if you're not going to use your hands," she replied, "there's only one other option. Your teeth."

I looked at her, shocked that she would tell me to do this. My hesitation must have shown, because the smile left her face, and she said in a stern voice, "Get to it before I have to punish you, you little slut."

I knew I had no choice but to comply. I could not comfortably reach my mouth down to her waist bending down from where I was, so I got down on my knees next to her in front of the couch. I gingerly leaned forward, doing my best to get a firm grip with my teeth on the waistband. This put my nose right into the top of her butt crack, and as I did so, I couldn't help but inhale the scent emanating from her panties. It was a mixture of female arousal and the muskiness of her ass. 

I made sure I had the panties firmly between my teeth, and started to gently tug them further down her body. As I did so, my nose dragged further down her ass cheeks, making the scent even more prominent. The lovely lavender perfume I had noticed when I first met her was overwhelmed by the powerful scents of the lower half of her body.

I had to almost prostrate myself to get the panties all the way down to the bottom of her legs. As I did, she stepped out of one side, and then the other. I wasn't sure what she wanted me to do at that point, so I just stayed on the ground like that. She said, "Now put them onto the table with your teeth."

I did as she ordered, and as I turned back to her, I saw her sitting down on the couch. Her naked breasts proved to be even more impressive than when I had seen them in her bra. As I suspected, it was not the bra that had kept them from sagging; they stood up prominently on their own, each with an areola at least two inches in diameter and a darker brown color than they had appeared in the picture of her. Her nipples were quite large, the size of the top joint of my pinky finger, and a deep red in color. The only word to describe her breasts was magnificent.

Just as in the picture she had shown me, she had a full growth of pubic hair between her legs. She was sitting on the couch with her legs spread quite wide, showing absolutely no signs of embarrassment about being naked in front of me. But then I thought to myself, why should she be at all embarrassed, after everything she had done to me?

She leaned back on the couch, pushing her pelvis forward, and looked straight into my eyes. I looked back at her, unable to avoid her stare. A smile appeared slowly on her lips, and she said to me, "Now get over here and get to work."

**********

I had a very fitful sleep, tossing and turning in the strange bed of the hotel, waking up numerous times. The first few times I woke I was able to get myself back to sleep, but on the fourth or fifth time, I found myself wide awake. I looked at the clock on the nightstand between my bed and Tara's, and saw that it was 3:30 in the morning. 

I couldn't help but think of everything that occurred at Lady Amber's the last evening. What struck me the most was not the things that she did to me, or made me do to her, but how well she managed to understand me and what I needed. It was almost as if she were a therapist and was able to look directly into my psyche.

As I thought about this, I became overwhelmed - not just because of Lady Amber's ability to look so deeply inside of me, but more so by the implications of what she found there. A whole side of me as a submissive, a part of me that I did not even know existed, was now something that I was going to have to live with the rest of my life. And it wasn't just the submissiveness, but the way that I had reacted sexually to another woman as well. The import of this revelation was overwhelming and the more I thought about it, the more upset I became, and I started to cry. 

I didn't want to wake Tara, so I turned my head into my pillow, trying my best to bury my sobs. But they must have been loud enough to rouse her, because I heard her soft voice, "Susan, what's wrong?"

I tried to pull myself together so she wouldn't see the depth of my feelings. "Nothing," I managed to get out between sobs, my face still turned toward the pillow.

"No, there's something wrong, I can hear you crying." I could see, even with my head buried in the pillow, that she had turned on the light on her side of the nightstand. "Please tell me what's going on," she implored.

I managed to stop crying enough to turn toward her and say, "Really, Tara, I'm okay, I'm just overtired I guess."

She got out of bed, and came over and sat on the side of my bed. "Susan, please don't lie to me, I've never seen you like this. Won't you please talk to me and tell me what's going on? What happened to you last night?" She reached for the box of tissues on the nightstand, pulled one up, and handed it to me.

"Thanks," I said, blowing my nose. I sighed, and realized that she wasn't going to give up until I said something. So I put a couple of the pillows behind my head and sat up a little bit. 

"Now that's better. So why are you crying?"

I looked at her, and noticed that her short nightgown had ridden up, so that it was barely covering her ass and pussy. She was sitting with her legs facing away from me, so I couldn't see her pussy, but given what she was wearing it was difficult not to imagine what she looked like under the nightgown. "Jeez, get a grip," I thought to myself, upset that I was thinking about Tara this way. 

I had to think of something I could say to her, because I know she wouldn't leave me alone until I did. I decided to try to keep it as simple as possible in the hopes of satisfying her curiosity.

"It was just very emotional talking to Lady Amber," I started. "I guess some of the things we were talking about, you know, her work, made me think a lot."

"Made you think about what?" Tara inquired.

"Well. . ." I hesitated, not sure exactly what I could say to her. "We talked about the women who come to see her, her clients, what she does with them, and why they come to see her."

"Why was that emotional for you?"

"I don't know, I guess because I could see myself in so many of them. Many of her clients are middle-aged, professional women, like me, and while some are married, she has many who are single as well."

Tara looked at me, seemingly thinking about this for a moment. After a few seconds, she said to me in a soft voice, "Susan, have you ever thought about going to see someone like Lady Amber?"

I looked up, glancing into her eyes and could see her staring at me. "I don't know, Tara, I really don't. When we first started the project, I would have no more thought about being a client of one of these dommes than I would have thought about being a rodeo rider." I managed to laugh a bit at that analogy, and Tara smiled back at me. "But I guess with all of these observations we've been doing," I continued, "the acts that these women engage in are becoming less extreme to me, and more understandable and believable. So I guess, I'd have to answer, yes, I could see myself there."

Tara smiled at me once again, and she reached out and patted my bare arm. "That's okay, Susan," she said. "I don't have to tell you that there is absolutely nothing wrong with what these women are doing. It's all consensual, it makes them feel good, and in some ways, I think it's empowering for them." I appreciated her attempt to comfort me, and I admitted to myself that her hand on my arm felt reassuring. 

"Empowering?" I inquired. "What do you mean by that?"

Tara pulled her hand away, swung her legs around and climbed up on the bed, I presumed to make herself more comfortable as the conversation continued. She sat cross-legged, and as she did, her short nightgown afforded me an excellent view of her panty-clad pussy. Even in the dim light of the single lamp she had turned on, I could see they were a peachy color, and were sheer enough that I could make out that she had trimmed her blonde public hair. As I observed this, my mind was flooded once again of memories of last evening, and my first experience with the pussy of another woman.

"Well, think about it, Susan," Tara continued. "The dommes allow these women to take control of their own sexuality, and help them to experience something they most likely have not been able to experience with other partners. If it wasn't for them, these women would be left with a hole in their sex lives, and would be unfulfilled, knowing they were missing something. But by seeing the dommes, the women get to explore a part of themselves, which can only empower them."

I thought about what she said, and realized that she was right. While some of the women may have had satisfying BDSM relationships with their partners, we knew from the interviews we had already conducted that for many of the women the visit to a domme was their only opportunity to engage in BDSM acts. Sometimes it was because they couldn't find partners who were interested in it. For others, it was because social pressure or the fear of being outed as depraved or kinky instilled a fear in these women of engaging in BDSM play as part of their regular lives, so they instead compartmentalized it by visiting the dommes.

"Maybe you're right, Tara," I acknowledged. "I guess for at least some of the women it is empowering for them." I was still glancing at her panties underneath her nightgown. "God," I thought to myself, "I'd love to see what she'd look like out of them." But I quickly tried to push that thought out of my head, knowing that any relationship between a professor and graduate student could lead to nothing but trouble.

"Does that make you feel better, Susan, realizing that?"

I laughed. "Why would that make me feel better, understanding that about those other women?" I asked her.

She looked at me intently, and hesitated, as if she was deciding whether to say something or not. But then she went on, "Because understanding that about those other women would make it easier to accept it in yourself."

"Oh please," I started to say, trying to deny what she was telling me. "It's not that. . ..," but then I stopped. Tara was still looking right at me, waiting for me to try to argue with her. But I realized it was fruitless to argue, because she clearly had come to know me almost as well as Lady Amber had.

"Susan, it's okay, it really is - there's nothing wrong with what these women are doing." She scooted a little closer to me on the bed, pinning me under the covers. She reached out and took my right hand which had been lying on top, and held it in her left hand. She was being so sweet to me; she knew I was conflicted, and was trying to support me. "You really do see yourself in some of them, don't you?"

Now it was my turn to hesitate. Tara continued to hold my hand, and with her right hand began to gently stroke my arm with her fingers, as if to reassure me. It must have been working, because I felt that I could open up to her a little bit.

"Yes, Tara, I think I do. I guess that's why it was so emotional with Lady Amber last night, because the things she was saying to me made me realize that I had more in common with her clients than I had known before." She continued stroking my arm, and I felt even more assured and trusting of her.

"In common in what way?" she asked.

I looked down at her hand stroking my arm, and watched, as her fingers moved gently up and down, just grazing my skin. I realized that this, combined with my view of her panties underneath her nightgown, was starting my own juices flowing. I kept telling myself it was wrong, that I needed to tell her to stop, but it was making me feel so much better that I couldn't get myself to do so.

I couldn't make eye contact with her, so I continued to look down at my arm and her hand stroking it. "In common in that I could see myself in the position of her clients," I confessed to her.

"You mean you could see yourself as a submissive?"

I sighed, and decided I might as well admit it to her. I wasn't yet prepared to tell her what had actually happened, but I felt comfortable admitting to her the feelings that had been stirred in me. "Yes, as I was talking to her last night, I realized that I could very easily be one of those submissive women."

"Oh Susan, I'm so proud of you for being able to admit that," she said, almost joyfully. She leaned forward, and threw her arms around me, pulling my head over her shoulder, and hugged me. I put my hands around her, and hugged her back. I could feel her firm breasts pressing up against mine as she did this, and I was struck by her kindness and caring for me. As often happens when someone is being so nice to me, I became overwhelmed by it and found myself beginning to cry again.

Tara must have heard me, because she began rubbing my back, and said softly into my ear, "It's okay, Susan, it really is. There's nothing to be ashamed about, and you can admit it to me."

I continued to cry, but felt incredibly comforted by her words and by her warm hand rubbing my back. After a minute or two, I was able to calm down once again, and my tears dried up. I pulled back from the hug, and looked into her eyes. "Thank you Tara, I really appreciate it. I've just never talked to anybody about this before, and the emotions have just overtaken me. You're being so sweet to me, I just can't thank you enough."

Tara looked back at me, and didn't say a word. Then she leaned forward just a bit, and before I realized what had happened, I felt her lips on mine.

**********

I knew I was powerless to fight Lady Amber, and had no choice but to comply. I rose to my knees, and closed the distance between the two of us so that I was between her two legs. In that position, my head was just about level with her beautiful breasts. I looked up into her eyes, and she still had a little smile on her lips. She encouraged me forward with an almost imperceptible nod of her head.

I leaned forward, extended my tongue, and began to lick at her left breast. I ran it all over the breast - the top, the bottom, each side, even lifting it with my two hands so that I could lick underneath, where it jutted out from her chest. I avoided the impressive nipple at first, wanting only to savor my first taste of another woman's breast. She settled down a little further into the sofa, and I followed her as she did so, maintaining contact between my tongue and her breast.

"Now suck it," she commanded in a low voice. I complied, opening my mouth and latching onto her huge nipple. I began to swirl my tongue around it, feeling the rough texture of its outer layer. I bit down gently, not too hard, an act that must have pleased her because it elicited a little gasp from her. "Oh you sweet bitch, you really want it, don't you?" she said. "Go ahead, I like that." 

I bit a little harder and then began to suck on the nipple. It seemed to grow even larger in my mouth, and I began to smell the distinctive scent of female arousal. I could tell the effect I was having on her, and knowing that, I was becoming even more turned on myself. 

After another minute or so, she pushed my head off of her breast. "Now the other one," she urged me on. I did as she told, and echoed on the right breast what I had done on the left, first licking all over, and then focusing on its equally engorged nipple. This continued for another couple of minutes, until I felt something poking at my mouth. I opened it slightly, trying to maintain the grip on her nipple, and as I did so I felt one of her fingers being pushed between my lips. I was right in my assumption that she must have been quite turned on again, because I realized her finger was soaking wet with her pussy juices. I sucked greedily on her finger, enjoying the taste once again that she had fed to me earlier when I was lying across her lap.

"Oh you are such a greedy little slut," she said as I sucked on her finger and nipple simultaneously. After a few seconds, she pulled it out of my mouth with a "pop." She then put her hands on the side of my head and pushed it away from her breast once again. 

"Okay," she said, "now for the main course." She moved her hands to the top of my head, and pushed me downward. I knew what she wanted, and realized that I was about to embark on my first experience of licking another woman's pussy. I moved downward and forward a bit, steadying myself with my hands on her thighs. As I did with her breast, I started by sticking out my tongue, and began to lick her outer labia. It wasn't an easy task, because of the thick pubic hair that covered them. But they were quite prominent, and after a few licks I was able to part her hair enough that I could easily run my tongue over each one.

My earlier assumption about her arousal was confirmed; as my tongue neared the base of each, I felt and tasted her juices running out of her pussy. This sensation urged me on even further, and the more I licked, the wetter she seemed to get. I began to suck one of her labia into my mouth, an action that elicited another gasp from her. I sucked away for about 30 seconds before I switched to the other one. I went back and forth like this a few times, and her arousal only seemed to grow based on the juices that were now flowing like a river out of her pussy.

"Okay, you little slut," I heard her say, "I want to feel that tongue right up my pussy." I was only too eager to comply, and I stuck my tongue out as far as it would go and jammed it right where she wanted it. I was greeted with an dusky succulence, as if I had found the source of her arousal. I swished my tongue around in it, and felt the juices running over my tongue and down my throat as I did so. 

I continued to jam my tongue in and out, and circling it around, soaking up as much of her juices as I could. After a few minutes, I felt her hands on my face pushing me backward. I sat back just a bit and watched as I saw her place two fingers on either side of her clitoral hood and retract it out of the way. Out popped what looked like a huge clitoris - huge at least by the standards of my own, which was the only frame of reference that I had. She took her other hand, placed it behind my head, and pulled my head back into her crotch. No words were necessary; I knew exactly what she wanted.

I placed my lips around her large clit, and began treating it like I had her nipples. I swirled my tongue around it a bit, and then began to suck. I alternated - first swirling, then sucking, and as I did so, I felt her body begin to tense up. I strengthened my suction, and I felt her put her hand back on my head and pull it even tighter into her crotch. As I sucked as hard as I could, I felt her body begin to shake, first gently, but then more violently. It was a challenge to keep my mouth affixed to her, but I managed to do so, and after a short while longer, I heard her scream out, "Awwwwww," as her orgasm washed over her, and her ass lifted right off of the couch. I stayed with her, and as she came back down, I released her clit and sat back. 




Sensitive Research Ch. 04



I watched as her large breasts heaved up and down on her chest as she was struggling to catch her breath. Her breathing finally began to slow, and she opened her eyes and smiled at me. She looked down at her pussy, and as I followed her eyes, I saw a large wet spot in front of it on the couch. She pointed to her thighs, both of which were coated with a sheen, one that I was not sure was from her pussy, from sweat, or both. "Clean me up, baby," she ordered.

I leaned forward again and used my tongue to lave each thigh, one at a time. As I did so, she ran her fingers through my fair, encouraging me on, until she was satisfied with my ministrations, and pushed me back once again.

"Not bad for the first time," she said, still smiling at me.



Sensitive Research Ch. 05



I strongly suggest you read the earlier chapters of the series, as they provide important context about the characters and themes of the series.

**********

I was shocked to feel Tara's lips kissing mine. I knew this was wrong - it crossed a boundary, between professor and student, that is supposed to be sacrosanct. But it felt so good, and I let her continue for a few seconds before I managed to pull away from her.

"Tara," I started, "this isn't right, I can't be doing this with you."

"I know, Susan. I just got caught up in the moment. You were so upset, and you seemed so comforted by my holding you, it just seemed like the right thing to do."

I reached out and took her hands in mine. "I really appreciate what you're trying - what you're doing for me," I told her. "You're more than just a research assistant to me, I consider you a friend as well, so thank you."

Tara smiled. "Thanks Susan, I appreciate that you see me that way. I consider you a friend as well, and that's why I want to help you. Do you want to talk about this anymore?"

I reached to the night stand and grabbed a tissue to wipe away the tears. I saw that it was 3:45 in the morning. "No, Tara, I just want to try to go back to sleep. We have a big day of work ahead of us."

"Okay." She turned and got off of my bed and returned to her own. As she did, I saw her panty-clad rear end, which was very round and very attractive. I once again tried to put the thought out of my head, turned off the lamp on the night stand, and tried to go to sleep. It took me a while, but finally I fell back asleep.

**********

The alarm went off at 9:00, waking both of us up. I turned it off, and turned toward Tara. "Do you want the bathroom first, or do you want me to go first?" I asked her.

"You can go first."

I got out of bed, consciously pulling my nightgown down, to make sure she wouldn't be able to see my cheeks. I wasn't sure whether the red welts from my spanking by Lady Amber last night were still there, and if they were, whether my panties would cover them. The last thing I wanted was for Tara to see them and ask more questions about what had happened last night. I had managed to avoid talking to her about what Lady Amber had done to me, and I really didn't want to get into it with her.

Once in the bathroom I closed the door, and took off my nightgown and panties. I could see in the mirror that the red marks were still there, and when I touched myself lightly, it was still tender.

I got in the shower, and the warm water felt good on my body. I felt like it was washing away the memories of what happened last night. I got out, toweled off, and wrapped the towel around my body. It was so narrow, that I could barely manage to cover both my breasts and my ass. But by tugging it down to just above my nipples, I hoped it covered enough of my ass that Tara wouldn't be able to see anything when I walked back into the room. I opened the door, and walked back in, being careful not to turn my back toward her. "All yours," I said as cheerfully as I could muster.

"Great, thanks," she responded. "What time is our first appointment again?"

I grabbed my phone, put in the lock code, and pulled up my calendar. "We have our first interview with a client of Lady Amber's at 11:00."

"Okay, great, that'll give us plenty of time to grab a coffee and bite to eat," Tara said as she walked into the bathroom. I noticed that she didn't close the door all the way, as she continued to talk to me. "So what do we know about this first one?" she asked, as I heard her start the water for the shower.

I reached into the dresser and retrieved a pair of panties and put them on. I unwrapped the towel and continued to dry my hair with it. "I don't know much about her, other that she is in her 40s, and unmarried. She was the first name on the list Lady Amber gave us, and she agreed to be interviewed."

As I finished rubbing the towel over my hair, I saw Tara standing in the doorway of the bathroom with a toothbrush in her mouth, staring at me. I was suddenly conscious of my 40DD breasts displayed to her, only about six feet away from where she was standing. I quickly covered them with the towel.

"I'm sorry," Tara said as she took the toothbrush out of her mouth. "I couldn't hear you with the water running." I noticed she was staring at my breasts. "Why don't we know any more about her?"

"That's okay," I responded, still a bit self-conscious over Tara seeing my breasts like that. But she didn't seem to react in anyway, so I silently scolded myself for being so modest. "For some reason, she said she didn't want to fill out the survey ahead of time, she said she was more comfortable just meeting with us."

"Okay," Tara said, and turned and walked back into the bathroom. 

I finished dressing, put on a little bit of make-up, and made sure that all of our recording equipment and other materials were in my bag for the interviews and observations. Tara came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel as I had been, and when she dropped it on the floor just a few feet in front of me, I quickly turned away to make it look like I was doing something. But before I did, I had a glance at her ass. It was beautifully curvaceous, not too big, but large enough to have a nice definition to it. Once again, I felt a stirring that I knew I shouldn't have.

Tara quickly dressed, and as usual eschewed make-up with the exception of a little bit of lip gloss. She was one of those women with a natural beauty that didn't require any help, a look that I was jealous of. She grabbed her bag and we left the room, heading downstairs for a light breakfast before our first interview.

After breakfast, we got in a cab at the hotel. Tara was looking at her phone. "Okay, so after this first interview we're doing together, we're splitting up, then rendezvousing back at Lady Amber's for an observation at 5:00, correct?"

I fished my phone out of my bag. "Yup. You sure you're okay doing your interview on your own?"

"Of course, it's not like it's my first one. I think I've done almost ten alone already, in addition to the ones I've done with you. And I'm really looking forward to the observation."

This would be the first time that Tara had met any of the dommes and observed any of their sessions. Up until now, I had done these all myself, but had decided with this visit it was time for Tara to participate as well. Given what had happened last night, I was now regretting my decision. When I had lain awake last night, trying to fall asleep, I had tried to come up with an excuse to not bring her along. But I knew how much she was looking forward to it, and I couldn't think of anything that would seem legitimate. While Tara was in the shower, I had texted Lady Amber and asked her not to say anything about last night when we arrived. She had quickly replied, saying, "Of course not my pet - discretion is an important part of any Domme's job." I shuddered when I saw "my pet," the memories of my session with Lady Amber flashing back into my brain.

"Okay, I know, sometimes I forget just how experienced an RA you are," I answered, smiling at Tara.

After about 15 minutes, we arrived in front of a nice looking townhouse in Hyde Park. I paid the cabby, and we walked up the steps to the front door. I rang the bell, and in a few seconds, the door swung open. Standing there was an attractive women in her mid-40s, with a nice figure - not thin, but appropriate curves for a woman of her age. She was wearing casual clothes, a blouse and a relatively short skirt, with spiked shoes with a heel of about 2 inches. I noticed that the top couple of buttons were open on the blouse, displaying a generous amount of cleavage. I could tell from a quick glance the clothes were designer, and probably expensive.

"Hello," she greeted us, "I'm Martha, please come in." She left the door open and turned and walked into the vestibule. As she did, I noticed her tan legs and that the back of her skirt hugged her ass very nicely, and once again, I was surprised to find myself looking at a woman this way.

We followed her through the vestibule and into a hallway, Tara closing the outer door behind us. "I'm Susan Phillips, and this is my research assistant, Tara Salowicz," I said, gesturing toward her. 

Martha reached out her hand and shook both of ours. "Nice to meet you, please come in," and she walked down the hall, passing a few rooms, and turned into another room. As we followed her, I took note of our surroundings. I was impressed by the size of the rooms we passed, and by the furnishings. I knew enough about Chicago to know this was a very good neighborhood, and this was quite clearly an expensive property. I was curious to find out more about Martha.

She walked us into a den, and gestured to a sofa for Tara and me to sit on. "Can I get you anything to drink, some coffee or tea perhaps?" she inquired. 

"No, thanks, we just had breakfast," I responded. She sat down in a wing chair next to the sofa, a couple of feet to my right. I reached into my bag, and got out my phone and an external microphone, which I plugged into the phone. I put both down on the coffee table in front of me. "Do you mind if we record the interview, Martha?" 

"No, not at all." As I fiddled with my phone to start the recording, I could see with a sideways glance Martha's crossed and toned legs, which she was displaying a lot of beneath her short skirt. Once again, I was struck that it seemed awfully short, particularly for someone her age, but I had to admit it looked good on her.

I gave her a brief synopsis of our study, what the research questions were, how we were conducting our research, and the assurances of confidentiality and anonymity in the study. I got out of my bag an informed consent form, and asked her to sign it. She read through it quickly, signed her name, and returned it to me. I handed it to Tara, who put it in a folder in her bag.

"Okay, we have a few basic demographic questions to ask first, before we get into the details of your experience with Lady Amber." I began asking the questions, while Tara took notes. I enjoyed having her along for interviews, because it allowed me to focus on the questions and what the respondent was saying, without worrying about getting everything down to supplement the recording.

She told us that she was divorced, 47, and a medical professor and clinician at the University of Chicago, specializing in women's health issues. That was the explanation for the nice home in which we found ourselves. She explained that she both saw patients and conducted research herself.

"So if you're ready, we'd like to ask you some questions about your relationship with Lady Amber." 

I knew this was the part of the interview where most women began to get nervous, but Martha immediately responded without any hesitation and with a small smile, "Of course, that's why you're here."

"How long have you been seeing Lady Amber?" I asked.

"Do you mean how long have I known her, or how long I have been seeing her professionally?"

I was a bit surprised, never having had this reaction to this question before. "Well, both I guess."

"I've known Amber for about ten years. I first met her when she became a patient of mine."

The surprise on my face must have shown, because Martha chuckled a bit. "You're surprised to hear that, Professor Phillips?"

I nodded yes, and she responded, "Surprised that I would be a client of someone who is a patient of mine, or surprised that that is how I met her?"

"Both, I guess."

Martha smiled again. "Well, I figured you'd want to know more about this, so when Amber asked me about participating in your study, I asked her if she wanted me to share how I knew her. And she gave me permission to be very upfront and honest, she even signed a HIPAA form providing me with a limited release to share some of this information with you."

"She came to me as a patient when she was starting off as a domme. She was very upfront and honest - she told me what she was doing, and said that she wanted to have regular testing for sexually-transmitted diseases."

"Why?" I asked. "If she is just a domme, why would she be concerned about that? Or was it for her personal life?"

"Let's just say that Amber offers a very wide range of services, some that could involve the exchange of bodily fluids. So she wanted regular testing, as well as regular health check-ups. She had gotten my name from another patient of mine, someone who assured Amber that I was very open-minded and discreet, which I am."

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Tara feverishly taking notes. As I prepared to ask the next question, I saw Martha shift a bit I her seat, and her skirt rode up just a bit, exposing even more leg. I felt like if it rode up much more, I'd be getting a glimpse of her panties, a thought I didn't want to have.

"And when did your doctor-patient relationship with her change?"

"Well, that happened about five years ago. I had recently gotten divorced from my ex-husband. It was a pretty crappy divorce, and when I was talking to Amber about it on one of her visits to me, she was very sympathetic. She suggested we go out one night and get a drink so I could really vent about the asshole." She laughed. "So a couple of weeks later, we went out, and boy did I vent!"

I chuckled a bit myself. "Up until that point, had you seen Amber socially?"

"No, only in the office, but I'd always enjoyed seeing her, and she seemed very nice, so I decided it wouldn't harm our professional relationship to go out and have a drink with her. She was a very good listener, and really asked some good questions about what went on in our marriage. I think that probably comes from her experience as a domme. She has to be able to read people pretty well in her job."

"Okay, so then what?"

"We went out for drinks a couple more times in the next few weeks, and once I was done dumping on my ex, I started to talk to her about her work, as we had never really talked about it much before. She told me how she got into the business, the kinds of women she had as clients, the kinds of things she did, etc.

"When I was in med school, we all had to do rotations in the different specialties, including psychiatry. So I had learned just a little bit about BDSM in the context of sexuality. But I didn't know much beyond that. So as I talked to Amber about it, I found myself sort of intrigued by the whole thing. My ex had been very straight-laced, and while I had been more curious and open-minded myself, he never had any interest in anything beyond vanilla sex. So after the divorce, and talking with Amber, I began to explore a little on the Internet, and I found myself turned on by what I read. And much to my surprise, what turned me on the most was BDSM between women.

"It had been probably a couple of months since I'd last seen Amber when she came in for one of her quarterly check-ups. As I was finishing up, I mentioned that it was a while since we'd gone out for a drink, and invited her. She agreed, and we went out the next night. I started to ask her more about what she did with her clients, what she thought they got out of it, those kinds of things. She was answering the questions, and then she stopped, and said, 'Martha, are you curious about this for yourself?' I sheepishly admitted to her I was a little, so she suggested I come over for a 'pro bono' starter session, sort of a, 'Try it out and see what you think' kind of thing. I did, and the rest is history." She smiled at the two of us.

"Do you mind if I ask you some of the details of what went on in that first session?"

"No, of course not, feel free," Martha said.

"Okay, what kinds of things happened that first time?"

"She started by asking me a lot of questions about what I saw on the Internet, what turned me on, what turned me off, any fantasies I had, those kinds of things. I answered that I was most turned on by the idea of being made to service another woman sexually. So in that first session, she started with very gently instructing me on how to service her, things like undressing her, massaging her feet, licking her breasts, those kinds of things."

As Martha reported this, my own experience with Lady Amber crept back into my mind, as I had done some of those same things to her. I began to wonder if this was a specialty of hers, or whether it was just a coincidence.

"And how did you react to doing this?" I asked her.

"Oh my god, it was an incredible turn on! Can I be very honest and blunt with you both?"

I was a little surprised to hear this medical doctor and professor saying these things, but I assured her she could be.

"It was the best fucking sex I'd had in my life, even though it wasn't even sex - at least by most people's standards," she said. The crudeness of her language stunned me, but I tried not to show any reaction. "I had never been so aroused in my life. Here I was in my 40s, the first time I had ever been with a woman, and my pussy was dripping like I'd never experienced. I was with her for about an hour, and thought I was going to have an orgasm just from the things I was doing to her. But finally, at the end of the hour, she allowed me to masturbate in front of her, and trust me - I've never cum like that in my life." She had a big smile on her face.

I realized that I too was getting aroused, listening to Martha describe that first session with Lady Amber, and having experienced much of the same just 12 hours ago. I felt a little flush, and shifted in my seat a bit, trying to take my attention away from my crotch. Martha must have noticed, because she said, "Are you okay, you look a little comfortable?"

I said, "I think I would like a little water if you don't mind." I thought that the little break in Martha's narrative would help calm me down as well.

Martha jumped up. "How about you Tara, would you like some too?" 

"Sure, thanks," Tara replied.

After Martha left the room, Tara stopped writing. "Wow, really interesting, don't you think?" she said to me in a low voice.

"Which part?" I responded.

"A woman, like her, a doctor, in her 40s, discovering that aspect of her sexuality that way."

"Yeah, I guess so," I said, "though I've had a couple of similar cases."

Martha came back into the room a minute later with a tray and three tall glasses of ice water. She got some coasters out of a drawer in the coffee table, and put the three glasses down in front of each of us.

I took a sip of the water. "So to get back to your first session with Lady Amber. . ." I prompted her.

"Oh yes, so she gave me that first session free, sort of out of professional courtesy I guess," she said with a laugh. I went home, and really wrestled with the whole thing, how I could feel that way, how I could have not known that about myself for over 40 years - trust me, it was a lot to deal with."

"I'm sure it was," I said, wondering what her reaction would be if she knew that I was wrestling with the same feelings myself.

"I knew I wasn't a lesbian, because I still had a strong attraction to men," Martha continued, "but I was definitely very attracted to women, and with women it was very much oriented toward kink. Interestingly enough, I didn't feel that way toward men - must be the feminist in me," she said, chuckling. "I was still dating men on occasion, and with men it was always much more vanilla. But with women, I was more interested in exploring BDSM. I tried dating some women, tried some websites to try to find women who I could be compatible with that way, I was like one of those people who came out later in life and wanted to experience everything all at once, but I had little luck in finding any women I really liked. I found some I could have sex with, but none I wanted a longer term relationship with. I got a little tired of these one-night stands.




Sensitive Research Ch. 05



"But one thing I did discover is that I liked both submission and dominance. I met this one woman who was a switch, and after playing the submissive role with her, she asked me if I wanted to try topping her, so I figured why not? And I gave it a try and liked it, and explored that with some other women as well."

Tara jumped in with a question. "And were you still seeing Lady Amber during this time?"

"No," Martha responded. "I thought I would find a partner who could fulfill those needs, so for a while I was focused on that. But with my crazy work schedule, I find it difficult to meet people and date. A few months later Amber - Lady Amber to me now" - she smiled at us again - "came in for a regular check-up, and she asked how I was doing. I described for her briefly what had gone one, how little luck I had had in finding women to be with. And she asked if I wanted to come back to see her again. I jumped at the opportunity; we decided that it would probably be best for us to end our doctor-patient relationship, so I referred her to a colleague in our clinical practice who I knew could be as discreet and open-minded as I had been. And I've been a regular client of Lady Amber's ever since." She leaned forward to take a sip of her water, and as she did, I realized I was glancing right down her blouse, which I could see showed very nice cleavage encased by a lacy red bra. Her breasts were very nice, not quite as large as my own, but impressive nonetheless.

Hearing all of this, a story that was potentially so close to my own was quite unsettling to me. I put my notes and pad down on the table, took a long drink of water, and stood up. "Do you mind if I use your bathroom?" I asked Martha. 

"Of course not - just head down the hall to the right, second door on the left." She gestured in the direction from where she had gotten the water.

I walked in that direction, and found the bathroom. I looked in the mirror, and saw that my face was in fact flush; the heat I felt in my crotch had made its way into my face as well. I flushed the toilet, and lightly splashed some water on my face, doing my best not to mess my make-up. I gently patted my face dry, and returned to the den. I caught Martha and Tara mid-discussion, talking about her graduate studies, how much longer she had to go to finish her doctorate, and the like.

"That's better," I said, managing a smile, sat down again, and picked up my notes. "Let's continue, shall we? We'd like to gather a little more detail about your activities with Lady Amber, and other relationships if you're okay with that?"

"Sure."

"Can you tell us how frequently you see Lady Amber for sessions?"

"I'd say about once a month or so, on average, depending upon my travel schedule."

"And are you involved in sexual relationships with other people as well?"

"I'm not seeing anybody romantically, if that's what you mean," Martha responded. "And with my busy schedule at the university, it's hard to find time for dating, but I do go out on occasional dates."

"With men or women, or both? And do these relationships involve sexual activities?"

"Both men and women, and sometimes there is sexual activity, yes. Some of my relationships with other women involve BDSM, but not all of them."

"Yes, I see," I said, "and can you tell us more about your activities with Lady Amber now?"

"It's a variety of things, different acts at different visits I guess, no two are the same." 

"Can you give us some examples, perhaps describe for us a recent session with her?"

"Okay, let me think back to my last one, which was a little over a month ago." Martha paused for a minute, taking another sip of water, and again, my eyes were drawn to her bra and breasts inside her blouse.

"When I arrived at Lady Amber's home, I had been given prior instructions that the door was open, and I was to let myself in, lock the door behind me, and proceed to her session room. I was instructed to remove all of my clothes, put on one of the blindfolds, she keeps there, and stand in the room waiting for her.

"I stood for what must have been about ten minutes or so, and then I heard her footsteps signaling her approach. I heard her enter the room, and felt her walking near me. She circled me slowly, and occasionally would reach out and touch a part of my body, squeeze a nipple, a slap on my ass. Then she. . ."

I interrupted her. "Excuse me, but you had said in your first session with Lady Amber, it had involved you servicing her sexually, and that's what you had been looking for in relationships with other women, correct?"

"Yes, that is right," Martha replied, "that was the first session. But as I saw her more, she began to explore with me other aspects of BDSM, including some pain and discipline training, and I came to enjoy those as well. That's why she would squeeze a nipple, or spank me."

"Okay, thanks for the clarification, please continue."

"I immediately get wet when she does this to me," she went on, "I think that's why Lady Amber is so good at what she does, because she gets to know her clients so well.

"So after circling and touching me like that, she told me get down on all fours. I complied, and I sensed her walking away, toward the wall where she keeps her implements. I then heard her coming back, behind me, and then nothing happened for about 30 seconds or a minute. Then suddenly, I felt a series of hard slaps on my ass, first my left cheek, maybe five or so slaps, and then the same on my right. I think she was using one of her riding crops, and it was everything I could do not to cry out. I didn't want to, because I knew it would result in punishment, as Lady Amber requires me to be silent when she is disciplining me like this."

I was still amazed that she could say this with no hint of embarrassment or shame, because I was still feeling very much of both from my session the previous evening.

"Does she give you a safe word?" I asked.

"Yes, of course," Martha answered. "Mine is 'Harvard'."

"Why Harvard?" I inquired.

"Because I went to medical school there," she smiled back at me. "So after hitting me with the crop, she instructed me to stand up, and led me by the hand to a sofa she keeps there. She had me lie down on it on my back, and she took my arms and fastened them to loops she keeps there at the head of the sofa, and attached my ankles in the same way at the bottom of the sofa. I was still blindfolded, so still could not see what was going on. 

"She then climbed on top of me, and I could feel her naked body on mine. She sat on my stomach, and started pinching my nipples again. She pinched each one, lightly at first, then harder, and she then slapped at them and my breasts for a bit."

"Was this painful to you?" I interrupted.

"A little, but not as much as the riding crop on my ass cheeks was. She then scooted up my body, and placed her crotch right on top of my mouth, and said one word: 'Lick'. I did what she said, and began to lick her pussy."

"Tell me more about this," I said, the request coming out of my mouth before I realized it. As I said this, I saw Tara shoot me a questioning glance out of the corner of my eye. I tried to ignore it, but sensed that Martha had seen it as well, because she appeared to have raised an eyebrow in response, and I thought I saw a crease to her lips.

"I'm happy to tell you more," she said, the slight crease turning to more of a wry smile. "She has instructed me in the past exactly what she likes, so unless she tells more otherwise, I repeat that. First, I suck on each of her labia, pulling each into my mouth, running my tongue all around it, biting gently on each one. I then explore her pussy with my tongue, sticking it as far up there as I can. As I do this, I can feel her arousal starting, as she gets very wet and the moisture starts seeping all over my face. After a time of this, I then start focusing on her clit with my tongue, sweeping around, trying to get it to become more erect and aroused, and I'm usually successful at accomplishing that.

"After concentrating on her clit for a while, she shifted upwards, pulling my tongue down toward her perineum, which I know she really likes having licked. So I spent some time licking her there, running my tongue from her pussy down to her asshole, and back - she really loves that!"

As Martha was going on, I could feel the flushness returning to my face. I was envisioning exactly what she was doing, except that in my take on it, it was I that was servicing Lady Amber in this manner, not Martha. My reaction must have been visible, because Martha stopped her narrative and asked, "My dear, are you sure you're okay? Is it too warm in here for you, because your face looks quite red?"

I managed to say in a quiet voice, "No, I'm okay, maybe it is just a little warm here. I'll drink a little water, I'm sure that will cool me off." I put my notes and pad down again, and picked up the glass and took a long drink of the cool liquid. I again saw Tara looking at me with concern. The water seemed to help some, and I felt a little better. I put the glass back on the table.

Martha began to talk again, and as she did, she uncrossed her legs. But one of her legs inadvertently kicked the coffee table, causing my glass to jump and tip forward toward me, dumping the remainder of its contents right into my lap. 

I jumped up with a start, saying, "Oh shit," not a very professional response, I know, but my immediate reaction nonetheless. I tried to brush the water off, but the material was already soaked, and I could feel the cool liquid start to soak through to my panties, which had already been becoming wet due to my own arousal.

Martha and Tara both jumped up as well, trying to figure out what to do to help me. "Oh my god, I am so sorry," Martha said, taking my hand. "Come here, we'll go into my bedroom and you could put on one of my robes while I throw your skirt into the dryer. It's cotton, right?"

"Yes," I responded.

"Tara, just make yourself at home, we'll be right back as soon as we take care of this."

As she took my hand and led back into the hallway, I saw Tara reaching down and pausing the recording app on my phone. Martha led me up a flight of stairs, and into what I presumed was her bedroom. She went into the closet and came out with a silk, kimono-style robe. "Here, take your skirt off, and put this on." 

I waited for her to leave the room, but she just stood there, presumably waiting for me to hand her my skirt. I didn't know what else to do, so I undid the zipper on the side, and pulled it down my legs. I stepped out of it and handed it to her, while she handed me the robe in exchange. As she did, she glanced at my panties, now clearly wet in the front, and said, "You might as well give me those too, you're going to be uncomfortable if those are wet."

I tried to protest, not wanting to take them off in front of her, but as soon as I started to say something, she said, "Nonsense, give them to me now." So I shyly rolled them down my legs, now naked from the waist down in front of her, and handed them to her as well. I thought she seemed to be looking at my crotch as she handed me the robe, but I was probably just ashamed and paranoid at that point. I put the robe on, pulled it around me, tied the sash, and just stood there, not sure what else to do.

She took my skirt and panties and walked into what I assumed was the master bathroom, where she must have her washer and dryer. She yelled out to me, "Damn, I left some clothes in here, it will just take me a couple of minutes to get them out and get your stuff in. After a minute or two of hearing clothes rustling, I heard her turn a knob, and then I heard the sound of the dryer going. She came back into the room, and pointing to a chair along the wall, said, "Why don't you have a seat. They're both pretty wet, so it's going to take a while for them to dry. Do you and Tara have another appointment you have to get to soon?"

As I sat down, I was aware that the robe barely covered my naked pussy. I thought about our schedule the rest of the day. "Tara has one at 1:00, but my next one is not until 3:00, so I'm okay." 

"Hmm, I don't know if this will all be dry in time for us to finish up our interview and get Tara to her next appointment in time." 

She seemed to think for a moment, and then said, "Can you finish this up by yourself, or do you have to have Tara with you?"

"No, I can finish it myself, I do many of the interviews on my own. Why?"

"Well, I thought I would just go down and tell Tara what is going on, and suggest that she just leave and grab herself a bite to eat before her next appointment."

"Well, I guess that's okay," I responded, unsure if I was going to be able to pull myself together enough to finish the interview with Martha. But I didn't have any reason to object to her suggestion.

"Okay, I'll be right back, just relax." She walked out of the room, and I heard her walk down the hallway and down the stairs. I could hear some murmuring between the two of them downstairs, but couldn't make out what they were saying. After a few moments, I heard steps back up the stairs, and Martha walked back into the bedroom. A few seconds later I heard the front door open and close. 

There was something different about Martha's appearance, but I couldn't quite put a finger on what it was. She pulled up another chair that was against the other wall, brought it over across from mine, and sat down, smiling. "She was fine, she understood, and said to tell you that she'll see you at Lady Amber's later. She seems like a wonderful young woman to have working with you."

"Yes, she is" I said. "I'm very lucky to have her working on the project with me. There's no way I could do all of the work by myself." I was painfully aware that I was sitting there, naked from the waist down, covered only by my interviewee's silk robe.

"Do you mind if I turn the tables on you and ask you a couple of questions? As a researcher, I have a little professional curiosity of my own, you know," she said with a smile.

I was a little uncomfortable, but again, did not want to seem ungrateful for her agreeing to be one of our subjects, so said, "Okay."

"How did you get interested in this line of research?"

"Well," I responded, "I've done some other work on sexual relationships, and there's been a fair amount of research about BDSM, but it's mostly focused on male-female relationships. So I thought it would be a good contribution to our understanding if I examined female-female BDSM activities."

"Ah, I see. So this interest didn't come out of any personal experiences that you had had?"

I was a little taken aback by this question. I responded, probably a little too quickly and a little too forcibly. "No, not at all, purely professional."

"Are you married, Susan?"

"No, I haven't been, and as you said before, with all the time I put into my work, I don't have a lot of time for dating. "I've had a few long-term relationships, but nothing that resulted in marriage."

"Yes, we academics tend to be so dedicated to our work that we neglect our personal lives at times, don't we," she said, smiling. "So you don't even date very much?"

"No, not really. I won't say I've given up on it, but I haven't had much success lately."

"And when you were dating, was it with men or women, or both?" she inquired.

This question caught me by surprise, and I quickly sputtered out, "Men, of course." But as soon as it was out of my mouth, I realized how insulting that was, given what she had been telling me about her recent relationships with women.

My face must have shown my regret, because Martha laughed, seemingly to put me at ease. "That's okay, Professor, I'm not insulted." 

She bent down, and started massaging one of her ankles. "These damn shoes are very stylish, but incredibly uncomfortable." She looked up at me and said, "Do you mind if I take them off?"

As I looked down at her, I realized why she looked different. As she was bent over, I could see down her partially-unbuttoned blouse again, and this time, there was no lacy red bra. I could see the creamy swell of her breasts much more clearly. I was stunned, trying to figure out what happened to the bra. All I could think was that she must have taken it off when she was putting my clothes into the dryer, but why?

She took her shoes off, and tossing them aside, resumed massaging her feet a bit. This continued to afford me a nice view of her breasts, which caused me to look away.

She straightened back up, saying, "There's that's a little better I guess. I don't know why I bother wearing those damn things!"

I tried to deflect the conversation we had been having. "I understand, I usually go for more sensible shoes myself," pointing down to the flats I was wearing.

"Yes, those are much more sensible. I generally wear shoes like that at work, since I'm on my feet so often, which is why I try to dress up more when I'm not working. But these middle-aged feet can't handle sexy shoes anymore," she said laughing.

Before I knew what was happening, Martha swung one of her feet up, and rested it on my bare legs. Before the look of shock could hit my face, she said, "Would you mind rubbing it for me - they're killing me, and it will make it feel much better."

I didn't know how to respond. This was such a strange request, given the circumstances, but I had to admit that if this were one of my friends who had made such a request, I would of course have been happy to help her out. So I just reached down, gently lifted her foot, and began to rub it with my two hands. As I did this, I could see up her short skirt between her legs, and just make out a pair of red lace panties that undoubtedly matched the bra she had somehow discarded.

"Ahh, that's good," Martha purred, "you're doing a wonderful job." She scooted down in her chair a bit, pushing her foot toward my crotch, just barely grazing my pussy through the robe. I pushed back just a bit myself, attempting not to be noticed, but trying to stop the contact between her foot and my crotch.

I continued on for a couple of minutes as Martha continued to purr. She then said, "Thank you," and pulled her foot down. I was thankful that was over, but before I realized it, she had brought her other foot up and plopped it down on my legs as well. She just smiled, arched an eyebrow, and nodded slightly down toward it. 

Without hearing a word of request from her, I picked up her foot, and massaged it as I had the other, eliciting the same reaction from her. As I did so, I was looking again at her red panties, just visible between her legs. After a couple of minutes, she pulled it back down again, saying "Thank you" once more.

I was very happy that was over, because I realized that my massaging of her feet was causing my arousal to return. I didn't even want to think about the consequences of that with me sitting there in her silk robe, the idea of my juices flowing all over it. The mere thought made me incredibly embarrassed.

The next question almost caused me to fall out of my chair. "Did you enjoy seeing my panties, Susan?"

Caught by surprise, I looked away and stammered. "No. . . what do. . . .I mean. . . ." I couldn't even form a coherent response.

"It's okay, I saw you glancing at them while you were rubbing my feet. Do you like them?"

I tried to pull myself together as best as I could. "No, I don't know, I didn't really see them, I didn't mean to look, I'm sorry."

"Maybe you'd like a better view, to see if you do like them." She stood up, and I started shaking my head from side to side, trying to will her to stop. But before I knew what was happening, she undid the buttons on the side of her skirt, and let it drop to her feet. I turned my head to the side, fully flush with embarrassment now, trying not to look at her.




Sensitive Research Ch. 05



I felt her walk right in front of my chair, almost touching my knees with her legs, but still I averted my glance. I felt her hands on either side of my head, gently but insistently turning it so that I was looking forward, staring right at her pussy covered by those red panties. "I know you want to see them, don't you," she said in a very quiet, but strong voice. "I saw you staring down my blouse before, stealing a peek at my bra."

I tried to fight back, tell her that she was wrong, but the words wouldn't come out of my mouth. With her hands, she pulled my head forward, so that it was almost touching the panties.

"Do you smell that Susan? That's the smell of my arousal. And do you know why I'm aroused, Susan?"

I tried shaking my head, still clasped in her hands, not wanting to believe this was happening to me. 

"I'm aroused, Susan, because I'm thinking about all the things I'm going to do to you. And you're going to do for me." She released my head, and I quickly sat back in my chair, still pinned there by her standing right in front of me. She began to unbutton her blouse, and pulled it off her shoulders, tossing it on the chair behind her, exposing her large breasts to my view. She then rolled the lacy red panties down her legs, and stepped out of them, leaving them pooled on the floor. I was staring at the slight swell of her belly, and her nicely trimmed pussy.

She leaned forward and once again placed her hands on either side of my head, this time grabbing my ears under my hair. She pulled my head more forcibly forward, and yanked it right into her crotch, her pubic hair tickling my nose as she did so.

"If you know what is good for you, you'll get that tongue out there and start licking."

Unable to pull away or resist her, I had no choice but to comply. My tongue pushed its way out of my mouth, and into her pussy, where it was greeted by a pool of arousal that had clearly been accumulating for some time. I began to lick her, afraid of what would happen if I did not comply with her order.



Sensitive Research Ch. 06



I strongly suggest you read the earlier chapters of the series, as they provide important context about the characters and themes of the series.

**********

I could not believe I was in this position, licking the crotch of this middle-aged doctor who only a few minutes before I had been interviewing for my research study on BDSM activities between women. I felt trapped, unable to resist her command, as my tongue soaked up the wetness that was pouring from her pussy.

As I licked her, she gently caressed my head, and I could make out her murmuring, "Yes, that's a good girl, you're doing so well, just like that." Her praise further motivated me in a kind of sick way, and I worked harder to thrust my tongue even deeper between her lips. I twirled it around, then pulled back and sucked gently on her labia, first the left and then the right.

"You're such a good pussy licker, aren't you. You've had experience with this before, haven't you?"

I continued sucking, but then she grabbed my hair and used it to pull my head away from her crotch and force it back to look up at her. I looked into her eyes, and she gave me a stern look. "I asked you a question, you little slut," she said forcibly. She pulled me forward out of the chair. "Get on your knees."

I complied with her command and knelt before her. "Yeah. . .yes. . .I have," I mumbled out my response. "But only just recently."

"So Lady Amber was your first?" she asked me with a smile.

I was shocked to hear that she knew what had happened between me and Lady Amber. "How did you know?" I asked her.

She laughed, still holding my hair, forcing me to look up at her from my knees. "Amber told me all about it, dear. How did you think I knew that you'd be interested in servicing me as well?"

"I don't know," I replied, "I hadn't really thought about it."

"Well, I don't yet have the ability to read people as quickly as Lady Amber does, so her filling me in made it a little easier to read you. With that information, it wasn't too hard to get you in the right situation, right her on your knees before me."

I was surprised to hear that she had planned everything out. "You mean, that was not an accident, the water. . ."

She interrupted me, laughing raucously. "Of course not, dear - I didn't realize you were bringing your research assistant with you, so when you arrived with her, I had to figure out a way to get rid of her." She had a very smug look on her face. "So the spilled water did the trick."

Oh god, I thought to myself, I can't believe I was manipulated again. But here I was, on my knees, my face just a foot or so away from this woman's naked crotch.

"What do you say we make ourselves a little more comfortable," she said, releasing my hair. "Or at least I'll get more comfortable," as she winked at me and turned toward the bed. She walked over to it, fluffed some pillows against the headboard, and lay down on the bed, propping herself against the pillows. "Take off my robe, and the rest of your clothes."

I realized I was powerless to resist, so I untied her robe, put it on the chair on which I had been sitting, and then shyly shed my blouse and bra, placing those on top of the robe. I turned to face her. As I did, I saw she was staring at me intently.

"Not bad for a woman your age," she said. "Your tits are quite nice, they don't sag very much given how big they are. They must be what, about a 38D?"

I was humiliated listening to this almost-complete stranger talking about my breasts like this. "No," I said in a soft voice, "I normally wear a 40DD." 

"Even larger than I guessed," she said with a chuckle. "What do you say when someone compliments you, dear?"

I hesitated for a second, not sure of what she wanted. "Um, thank you?" I asked questioningly.

"Thank you what?" she responded.

I knew immediately what she wanted. "Thank you, Mistress," I said, with a resigned tone in my voice. I knew where this was heading: another repeat of the humiliation I experienced the day before with Lady Amber. As much as I wanted to run from the room, I knew I was powerless. And never mind that I didn't have any clothes on.

"Much better, my little slut," she said, with a look of triumph on her face. "Now get up here and let me feel those huge tits of yours." She patted the spot next to her on the bed.

I walked slowly to the bed, and got up on it, not sure what she wanted, so I sat on my haunches on the spot she had indicated, facing toward her. She sat up a bit so she could reach me. She extended one hand toward my right breast, grabbed the nipple between her thumb and forefinger, and began to squeeze. It was already quite large, the result of my arousal, but the attention she was paying to it caused it to grow even further. As she continued to increase the pressure, I gasped, unable to restrain myself.

"Ah, my little slut likes this attention to her titties, doesn't she?"

I could only nod, my humiliation continue to grow. She let go of the nipple, and when I looked down, I saw how swollen she had made it, causing it to grow to a size much larger than its mate.

"I want to see those big udders hanging down, just like on a cow," she commanded of me. "Get up on your hands and knees where you are."

I did as she commanded, my tits hanging down below my torso, just as she wanted. She began to caress them, one hand on each side, and then began to slap at them, making them wobble around.

"Very nice, slut, I could have a good time with these." She scooted around me on the bed, so that she was now behind me. "Well, well, this must be Lady Amber's handwork on your ass here I see."

I had forgotten that my cheeks must still be red from my spankings by Lady Amber yesterday, and the reminder of them by Martha only increased my shame. I buried my head in my hands on the bed.

I felt a sharp slap on one of my cheeks. "Is it Lady Amber's work?" 

"Yes, Mistress," I replied, sucking in a sharp breath from the pain. "I hadn't realized you were asking a question, ma'am."

She started rubbing my ass more gently. "Not to worry dear - just a little discipline to make sure you understand who is boss. In fact, I have just the thing to help you - just what the doctor ordered, as we say," she said, laughing once again. I kept my head down, but felt her get up from the bed. I heard her walking back toward her bathroom, and then come back and get on the bed behind me again.

I felt something cool on my ass, and shuddered as it touched my body. I felt her hand rubbing something onto my ass cheek. "This is some aloe lotion that will take the sting away from what Lady Amber did to you. From the marks, it looks like she used one of her paddles on you. I certainly know what those feel like!"

"Thank you, Mistress." Her hand rubbing my ass felt good. She switched to the other cheek, rubbing some more lotion on that one as well. As she rubbed, I felt her fingers get perilously close to my asshole. I wasn't sure if it was just an accident, or if she was doing it on purpose. As her fingers grazed there, I shuddered a bit.

Martha must have sensed my reaction, because she said, "Oh you little slut - you'll learn that your body is mine, and I can do whatever I want to it, including playing with your little crinkled asshole if I want." With that, I felt more of the cool lotion right on my crack, running down it, until it reached right to my rosebud. Since she had warned me, I did my best not to react, but it was hard not to with the sensation of the cold liquid on that most intimate part of my body. I felt her fingers start to rub the lotion into my crack, starting at the top, and then moving lower and lower, until one of them was circling my asshole itself. I knew what was coming, fully aware of just how humiliating this was to me. Against my best instincts, I tensed up to try to repel the intruder. Just as I did, I felt a finger beginning to push against my rosebud.

I felt Martha's head very near my ear. "Open up, my little slut," she whispered into my ear. "It's only going to make it more painful if you resist, just relax." 

I did my best to follow her instructions, relaxing my ass to the intrusion that I knew would follow. She continued to push with her finger, gently at first, letting me get used to it, and then with a turning motion, pushing more insistently, until I felt it pop in. I had an immediate flashback to the sensation I had when Lady Amber had done the same thing to me last night. I did my best to relax, knowing it would make it easier, and as I did, I felt her finger push even deeper into me. I moaned, both in shame, but also because it felt so good.

"Oh you little slutty sub, you like this don't you?" Martha asked.

"Yes, Mistress," I said, my head still buried in my hands.

"I know just what little girls like you want, they want their assholes played with, don't they." I felt her finger rotating around, exploring my ass at will. I then felt her other hand on my pussy, which by now, was dripping so much I was afraid the evidence was running down my legs. "Just as I knew," she said, rubbing the wetness into my labia with her fingers, "you're loving every minute of this."

I was resigned to my fate, and gave her the affirmation she wanted. "Yes, Mistress, I am."

She continued her finger's insistent exploring, occasionally pulling it out a bit and then pushing it back in. Each time she did, I gasped once again, and found myself getting even wetter. With one of her fingers in my ass and the other hand rubbing my pussy lips and grazing my clit, I was afraid that I was going to cum, shaming me even further.

But just when I was thought she was going to send me over the edge, she stopped, pulling her hand away from my pussy, and with an audible "pop," removing her finger from my ass. I was so close to orgasming, I almost collapsed on the bed, and groaned.

"That's enough of your pleasure, now it's time to see what else you can do for me." I felt her shift on the bed again, and lifted my head to see what she was doing. I saw her going back to the propped up pillows, and lying back against them. "Get up here and finished what you started before." She had her legs spread, displaying her hairy pussy to me, and had a finger pointing down at it.

I got up on my knees, and moved over between her legs. I lowered my head, and I could see that she was even wetter than she was before, confirming for me how turned on she was by dominating me. Her labia were swollen and full, easily visible and extending through her bush. I began servicing her once again, starting by tonguing and sucking her labia. I heard a gentle mewing sound coming from her, and she said in a far-away voice, "That's right baby, you take care of mommy like a good girl."

Her infantilizing of our relationship enhanced her domination of me and turned me on even further. I continued stimulating her labia with my tongue, and then moved on to run it around her clit, circling it over and over. As I did, I could feel it growing, extending out of its hood, seeming to reach out to me. I felt her hands continuing to caress my hair and head, pulling me in even tighter to her crotch.

Her clit was extended so far that I could now grasp it with my lips, and sucked it into my mouth. I sucked on it, gentle at first, but as I felt her body respond even more strongly I sucked harder still.

"That's right you little bitch, suck me, suck me hard," she was saying, pulling my face even more tightly into her. I had to gasp for breaths by pulling away from her for a moment, and breathing in the fetid air that was surrounding her pussy. I continued to suck, pushing her closer and closer to what I assumed would be a huge orgasm. But then she grabbed my hair again at the back of my scalp, and pulled my head away.

"Not yet, slut - I want to cum all over your face." She got up, and pointing to the spot she had been lying, said, "Lie down there flat on your back."

I wasn't sure what she was going to do, but immediately complied with her directive. I saw her swing one leg over my body, and she scooted up so that her pussy was now right below my chin. I had a front row seat to her pubes, glistening with a mixture of her juices and my saliva. The odor was overpowering; she was clearly so turned on by what she was doing to me, that all I could smell was her arousal right under my nose.

"Ready, slut?" she asked

"Yes, Mistress," I replied, knowing what was coming. She scooted further up my body until her wet, steaming pubes were right over my mouth. "Get to work," she commanded.

I began licking once again, repeating what I had done to her before, playing with her labia and then seeking out her clit first with my tongue, and then with my lips. It did not take long for her to come back to a boil, no more than three or four minutes, and she was getting even wetter. With her position above me, I could feel the juices flowing onto my chin, and then down my neck. I thought that I would never be able to forget the smell of her and what she was doing to me.

She began to grunt, softly at first, but then more loudly and rapidly. I knew she was close to cumming, and I was glad to have the denouement, as I did not know how much more I could take of being smothered by her. As the pace of her grunting picked up, she began to slide her crotch forward and backward over my face, as if to get even more stimulation on her pussy. I tried desperately to keep my lips attached to her clit as she rocked harder and harder back and forth.

Finally, after another minute or two, I heard a loud, "Arrrggghhhh," and I was showered by a blast of warm liquid. I was horrified at first as I thought she had peed on me, but then I quickly realized that she had ejaculated - something I had never experienced myself, so I had had no firsthand knowledge of this. It went on for about 10 seconds or so, and went everywhere on my face - my lips, my nose, my eyes, even into my hair. She collapsed even further on my face, grabbing onto the headboard behind me. 

I turned my head to the side and gasped for some fresh air, taking deep breaths, trying to clear the smell of her out of my nostrils. After a minute or so, she lifted herself back upright. I looked up at her as she said, "Damn, you're pretty good at that for someone who came so late to pussy licking. Amber said you were good, but I didn't think you'd be this good." She had a smile on her face, and hair looked as mussed as I knew mine must be. Her face and chest were flush, a pinkish hue that I knew was the result of the massive orgasm she had just had.

She swung her leg back over my chest and dismounted from me, lying next to me on the bed. She reached over to the nightstand next to the bed, and I heard her open a drawer. Her hand came back up, and she threw a small hand towel onto my face. "Here," she said, "clean yourself up with this."

I did as she suggested, the best that I could, happy to have something to wipe her cum and other juices off of my face. What I really wanted was to just go back to the hotel and clean myself up before I my other appointments in the afternoon.

I wiped my face as best as I could, and then started to sit up. Before I got too far, I felt her hand grab my tit closest to her, and she pushed me back down. "Where do you think you're going, my little subbie?" she asked.

"Uh, I. . .I thought we were done," I responded meekly.

She slapped at my tit, hard enough that I yelled "ow." 

"You're done when I say you're done, slut." She slapped my other tit, and said, "You still have more work to do." I couldn't believe that she'd want me to lick her pussy more; I could only imagine how sensitive her clit must be with all of the attention I had paid to it.

"Yes, Mistress," I replied docilely, not knowing what she wanted. I felt her sit up, and begin to swing a leg over me once again. I was amazed that she wanted more, but before I knew it, she swung around, so that rather than putting her pussy over my face, she was facing my feet and plopped her ass down on my tits. My vision was filled with her ass cheeks; my first impression was that they looked very taut for someone who was a few years older than I. Her skin was milky white and smooth, nary a blemish diminishing the beauty of those two globes. Between them I could see her furrow, an only slightly darker shade than her skin at the top, but then darkening as it went further and further toward the forbidden center of her asshole, until it reached a deep brown color.

I knew what she wanted, but couldn't believe that I could get myself to do it. I had never done this to anyone before, but I knew I could not say no to her. It was not the fear of what she would do to me that was stopping me; rather, it was a deep, down sensation that I had to do this to satisfy my own curiosity and craving.

She looked at me over her shoulder, a sly smile once again on her face. "You know what to do, don't you, you little slut." I nodded assent, but that wasn't enough for her. "I want to hear you say, you little sub."

I took a deep breath, and prepared myself for the next step in my degradation. "You want me to lick your ass, Mistress."

"Not just my ass, slut, but the whole thing. I want to feel your tongue deep in my asshole, and you're going to do it for me, aren't you?"

Another breath. "Yes, Mistress, I'm going to tongue your asshole."

"Good baby," she responded, "I can't wait to have your tongue up mommy's ass." With that she turned her head back, and scooted backwards to place her ass on top of my mouth. "Get to work."

I began to tongue her cheeks, first one, then the other. I was surprised by how smooth her skin felt; not quite like the proverbial baby's bottom, but again, for a woman of her age, it was incredibly soft and supple. I laved her cheeks, getting them wet with my saliva, exploring them as much as the limited movement my head was afforded would allow. My tongue was sore after all the time it had spent on her pussy, but I soldiered forward.

After about five minutes of this, she said, "Okay, enough foreplay, I want to feel you in my crack now." I saw her reach back with both hands, opening herself up to me, so that I could now clearly see her brownish-pink rosebud winking at me. There was no missing my target, it was a mere inches from my tongue. 

I lifted my head, and tentatively began a swipe from the top of her crack downward. I repeated this a few times, going lower with each pass, until I made my first exploratory foray to her asshole. The wrinkled skin contrasted with the smoothness of her cheeks and cleft, and the taste was just a bit tangy - not in an unpleasant way, but different from every other part of her body I had tasted. I circled my tongue around it, wetting it, and getting used to the feeling. I had a fleeting thought of whether she had prepared for this by cleaning herself back there before my arrival, a thought that almost made me shudder with the realization that she was so sure of her ability to dominate me that she had gone to that length.

But before I could explore that thought any further, I heard her voice again. "Get it in there, bitch," she hissed, as she pushed her body backward, as if to force it onto my tongue. I did as she commanded, beginning to spear at her rosebud with my tongue. It met resistance at first, but after a few forays, I felt it beginning to ease open, and finally, with a strong stab, I was inside. Not far, but just enough for her muscles to be grabbing at my tongue, almost as if it was trying to pull it deeper inside.

"Ahh, you're such a good ass licker, you little slut," I heard her say. "Push it in there." She rocked slightly back and forth, and I did my best to push in even further. After another minute or two, I felt her tense up, and then quickly, I heard the same grunts I had earlier when she came. A few seconds after that, I felt her shake, as another orgasm wracked her body. I don't think she ejaculated this time, as I didn't feel it on my chest, but she clearly had had another massive orgasm. Her asshole ejected my tongue, and she slid forward, her heard resting on my ankles, heavy breaths wracking her chest up and down on my legs. I was relieved to have my tongue back, and tentatively moved it around, trying to get the feeling back into it.




Sensitive Research Ch. 06



After a couple of minutes of rest, allowing time for her breathing to come back to normal, she lifted her body and then swung back off of me once again. She sat next to me on the bed, and reached out and ran her fingers through my hair that was now thoroughly soaked by her juices and my sweat. "Not bad, subbie, not bad."

She got off the bed, and headed toward the bathroom. Before she got there, she turned and said to me, "Don't go anywhere." She continued on, and a moment later, I heard the sound of her peeing, and then the toilet flushing. Following that, I heard the shower running.

I grabbed the towel she had given me before, and looking for any dry sections of it, did my best to clean her juices off of me once again. I sat up in the bed, slightly dazed, failing to comprehend how I got myself into this position. Just a day ago, I was a well-respected professor, conducting an important research project. And now I was a submissive lesbian slut, one who had serviced and been punished by two dominant women in the last 24 hours. And I was also conscious of the fact that I was incredibly aroused and frustrated that I still had not had an orgasm myself.

As I tried to come to grips with this, I heard Martha walking back into the room. She was naked but for a towel she was using to finish drying herself. I looked at the clock, and realized that I had only about an hour before my next appointment to interview another client of Lady Amber.

Martha must have seen me checking the clock, because she said, "Feel free to take a shower here, I know you don't have much time. There's a clean towel in the bathroom, and I put your skirt and panties on a hanger in there, they're dry."

I was a little surprised by this gesture of kindness. "Thank you, Mistress," I started to say, but she interrupted me.

"Our session is over Susan," she cut in. She smiled as she continued, "No need to call me 'Mistress' anymore." I started to question her, but she cut me off again. "Just get in there and get cleaned up."

I did as she said, getting off the bed and heading into the bathroom. Sure enough, I saw my skirt draped neatly on a hanger placed over a hook on the back of the bathroom door, and my panties laid out on a chair nearby.

I realized that I needed to pee badly, a sensation that I hadn't been aware of until this moment. I closed the door to the bathroom, and went and sat on the toilet. Just as I started to pee, I saw the door open, and Martha walked in, still naked and carrying the towel she had been using to dry herself. I stopped peeing immediately, shocked to have her walking in on me like this. She walked over to the rack, hung the towel up, and turned back toward me.

Looking at me, she said, "Don't let me stop you, my dear." I had been waiting for her to leave the room, but it was clear that she wasn't going anywhere. I resigned myself to having to relieve myself in front of her, and after a few seconds, the stream resumed and loudly splashed into the bowl below. Martha just stood there watching, and when I finished peeing, I waited again for her to leave. She simply stared at me, and shook her head no, and went and stood right in front of me, no more than a foot in front of my knees. I could again see her full bush, now all cleaned up, with her labia receding back and hidden in her pubic hair.

I sighed, and reached for the toilet paper. I crumpled it up, and spreading my legs, reached between them to wipe myself. This feeling of intimacy, her standing right in front of me, watching me clean my pussy after watching me pee, was immense. In some ways it was an intimacy that exceeded what we had just done in her bedroom, this knowledge that she had the power to watch me while I dealt with my bodily functions.

I got up, walked to the shower and started the water. I got in, and admitted to myself that it felt wonderful to wash all of the stickiness off of my body and out of my hair. I shampooed it twice, rinsed, and got out of the shower. The luxurious towel Martha had left for me felt equally good as I dried off. I found some talc on the counter and powdered up my body. I put on my panties and skirt, and walked back into the bedroom.

Martha wasn't there, so I put my bra and blouse on, slipped on my shoes, and went downstairs. I found her sitting in the room where the three of us had been earlier, flipping through a magazine.

As I walked in, she got up and came over to me. She put her hands softly on my cheeks, and pulling my head toward me, gave me a passionate kiss. She gently pushed her tongue into my mouth, rubbing it on my lips as she went, tasting them, and then tongue kissed me. She pulled away again, and stared into my eyes.

"I know what you're going through, Susan," she told me. "I've been there myself, that first realization that there is a part of you - a vitally important part of you - that you never knew existed. You live in another city, so I suspect this will likely be a one-off thing between us, never to be repeated. But if you want to talk about this, feel free to get in touch." With that, she handed me something she had been holding in her hand. It was her business card from the university, with a hand-written phone number on it. "That's my mobile number, feel free to call at any time."

Her kindness overwhelmed me, and I threw my arms around her neck and pulled her in close for a hug. "Thank you, Martha," I responded, and I truly was thankful. While much of what she put me through was incredibly difficult both physically and emotionally, I knew it was part of an important path in my own exploration. And I truly appreciated the caring she was demonstrating toward me.

I gathered my belongings and used my phone to call a cab. I kissed Martha lightly on the cheek, said good-bye, and stepped outside into the fresh air to await the cab.

**********

I made it to my next appointment just in time. It was another client of Lady Amber's, and I was nervous at first that she may have also been told of my experience the night before. But my worry was misplaced, as the interview went off without a hitch. There was nothing distinctive about her, she had experiences that I had heard bits of pieces of in other interviews. I wrapped it up and prepared to meet Tara at Lady Amber's a half hour before her 5:00 session.

I realized that I was famished, as I had had nothing to eat since our light breakfast earlier in the morning. I had a little bit of time, so I stopped into a sandwich place the next block over from where this woman lived. I gobbled down the sandwich and a bottled water, and then jumped into another cab to go to Lady Amber's townhouse in Lincoln Park.

As I pulled up, I saw Tara getting out of a cab just in front of me. I paid the cabbie, and we walked together up the steps to her front door. We were getting there about a half hour before the client, so we had a few minutes to talk to Lady Amber and get set up. I was once again nervous, given what had transpired with her last night. I didn't want Tara to find out anything about this, and I trusted Lady Amber to be discreet. But I was still nervous about how I would act in front of her, so I was very self-conscious as she answered the door and greeted both of us with a big smile. She gave me a hug, saying, "Welcome back," and shook Tara's hand and introduced herself. She was acting perfectly normal, and that helped calm me down and reassure me.

We sat in her parlor again, and she told us a little bit about the client who was coming. Nothing particularly remarkable, other than she was a bit younger than most of her clients, only 25 years-old, a graduate student herself at one of the local universities, and this would be her fourth session with Lady Amber. We had not yet had a chance to have her complete a survey, so we did not know anything else about her.

Lady Amber asked a bit about Tara's background, what she was studying in graduate school, and things like that. As I suspected, she was very discreet and gave no indication to either Tara or me as to what had happened yesterday.

Lady Amber told us that we would be allowed to be in her session room with this client. She explained that when she told her about our research project, and that we wished to observe some of her sessions, the young woman immediately volunteered and said that she was comfortable with us being directly in the room with the two of them. I thought to myself how different this generation is; when I was growing up, sexual acts were such a private thing, and even though I was coming of age during the gay rights revolution, relationships between couples of the same gender were even more closeted. I knew things were different today, both from listening to my students and by observing the campus culture. The student newspaper on my campus had a weekly sex column that discussed topics that a generation ago one would only find in a magazine like Penthouse or Playboy!

Tara and I gathered up our things and headed down to Lady Amber's session room in her basement. It was a good-sized room, probably 20 feet by 15 or so. It must have taken up a good portion of her basement, and was not what one would describe as a "dungeon" by any means. It had a warm, red-hued wallpaper, carpeting on the floor, and comfortable, upholstered furnishings. There were a couple of folding chairs in a corner that Lady Amber must have brought in for us, so we sat down in them and got out our laptops for taking notes.

About ten minutes later, we heard voices upstairs, and then heard footsteps descending toward us. Lady Amber walked in, followed by her client. She introduced her as Nicole, and she shook hands with the two of us. I knew Nicole was 25, but she looked like she could have been even younger, still an undergraduate. She was quite large, probably at least 200 pounds, though she was tall, taller than Lady Amber, Tara, or I, probably five feet nine or ten inches, so she carried the extra weight fairly well. She was wearing what looked like yoga pants and a t-shirt. Lady Amber had changed her clothes between when Tara and I headed downstairs and when her client arrived. She had been wearing a loose-fitting top and pair of leggings, but she was now wearing a tight black dress, very low-cut in the front, displaying quite a bit of cleavage, and the rest of the dress clung very tightly to her curves.

I handed Nicole the consent form and a pen, and asked her to review it and sign before she got started. She quickly glanced at it, scribbled her signature at the bottom, and handed both back to us. She asked me a couple of questions about our study, and told us that one of the reasons she had consented to be observed was that she was a sociology major. She would be doing her own research not too far down the road, so thought it would only be fair if she agreed to support someone else's study.

"Well, shall we get started," interrupted Lady Amber, clearly concerned that if she let the conversation continue it could go on for some time.

"Just a second," Nicole responded, and turning back to me, she asked, "Are you planning on videotaping this session?"

I was surprised at her question, because that was not something that we had planned on doing, largely because I did not think anyone in the study would ever consent to that.

"No, that was not part of our research protocol, why do you ask?" I responded.

"Oh, no reason in particular, I just figured that would be part of it, so you would have an archive of what occurred."

I thought about what she said for a quick moment. It would be interesting, I surmised, to have a video record to triangulate with the notes that Tara and I would be taking. We had not specifically included anything about videotaping in my application to the Institutional Review Board at the university, nor did it specifically prohibit such a record. I looked at Tara, and she was nodding her head enthusiastically. 

"Well, we don't have a video camera, so I don't think we can," I said.

Tara quickly jumped in. "I could take notes by hand, Dr. Phillips, and use the webcam and microphone on my laptop to record," she said.

"Well," I hesitated for a moment, trying to buy time so that I could decide if this would be ethical or not. But then I thought, "Why not," and the worst case would be that we recorded it, and then decided to delete it later and not use it in the study. But I thought it could be a useful tool to assess the accuracy of our note taking by later comparing the notes to the video record. We could always go back to the IRB and amend our application.

"Do you have any objections?" I said, turning to Lady Amber.

"No," she responded, "as long as it will be used just for your research study and not seen by anyone other than Tara and you."

"Of course," I said, "Tara is my only research assistant on the project, so no one but the two of us would have access to it. I'll make sure that the file is protected with a password on my laptop, and at the end of the study, it will be destroyed. 

"Then it's fine with me," Lady Amber answered.

I asked Tara to set up her laptop while I amended the consent form to allow for video recording. Tara went back to the chair she had rested her computer on, picked it up, and surveyed the room. She found a small cabinet in a far corner, placed it on the top, and then fiddled with the controls to get it set up to record as much of the room as possible, since we did not know where the action would be taking a place. She walked back to the chair and said, "All set."

"Okay, if you'll just sign here under the amendment I added, Nicole, we'll be all set." Nicole signed the form once again.

"Good," Lady Amber said, "let's get started." Tara and I took our seats, me with my laptop in my lap and Tara with a pad of paper and pen at the ready.

LA (as I called her in my notes) walked to what looked like a dresser against a wall, opened a drawer and removed something. She walked back to her client and said, "Nicole, assume your inspection position," and handed her the item in her hand. We could then see that it was a blindfold.

Nicole must have been well versed in what this meant because without hesitation, she lifted her t-shirt over her head, placing it on a small coffee table next to her. This exposed quite an impressive set of breasts encased in a plain, white lace bra. She then slid her pants down her thighs, exposing a matching set of white lace panties, and placed the pants on the table as well. I could see wispy curls of red pubic hair, slightly lighter than the red hair on her head, peeking out from behind the panties. 

She turned to face LA, put on the blindfold, and placed her hands behind her head interlacing her fingers, spread her legs approximately three feet apart, and stood motionlessly. My chair was in front and slightly to the left of Nicole, so I had a good view of what was going on, and Tara was directly next to me. 

LA walked over to her and circled her, occasionally touching different parts of her body, a light graze here, a stronger pinch there. Her client clearly knew the drill well, because she stood perfectly still, not reacting either verbally or physically to her mistress's touch. After circling four or five times, she stopped in front of her, their faces no more than a foot apart. "Very nice, my pet, you're following instructions very well. Now take off your bra."

Moving only her hands, Nicole reached behind her, and deftly unclasped the back of the bra in one swift motion. She shrugged the straps off her shoulders, letting the cups fall down from her breasts. They were even more extraordinary than when they were encased in the bra. Her areola were a pinkish-brown hue, perfectly smooth and each must have been a good four inches across, taking up much of the front of her tit. Her nipples were at least half an inch in diameter, and equally long, a maroon color, and appeared to already be aroused, standing out prominently almost begging for attention. She was a large woman, but still young, so that her breasts had little sag to them and stood up well high on her chest.

She handed the bra to LA, who still stood in front of her with her hand outstretched, and returned her fingers behind her head. LA tossed the bra on top of the other clothes on the coffee table. She reached out and began to roll her left nipple between her fingers. It did not appear that she was applying much pressure, just gently playing with it, and much to my amazement it began to stick out even further. It was not that I had seen many women's nipples before, either in person or in magazines, but I was not sure that I had ever seen any as large as these. LA did the same to the other, eliciting the same reaction. Nicole stood like a statue throughout. 

Just as in many of the other sessions I had observed, I began to get aroused myself. My sense of excitement was only exacerbated by my own experiences the last 24 hours; I understood much better now just what these women were going through, the emotions they were feeling, the want in their bodies and minds. I was curious what impact this was having on Tara. I glanced at her, but she was largely unexpressive, furiously taking notes as the scene unfolded.

LA then reached down and lightly ran her fingers over Nicole's panty-clad pubic mound. She stood up, and placed her fingers under Nicole's nose. "Smell, my pet. Just as I expected, you're already aroused, just from this little bit of submissiveness you are displaying."

"Yes, Mistress," Nicole responded. LA knelt down, and placing her hands on either side of her hips, drew the lace panties down her legs. Nicole lifted one leg, then the other, allowing LA to pick them up. She rose, still standing right in front of her, and holding them in one hand, inspected them, rubbing them between her fingers.

"See, pet, I was right, your panties area already soaked. Open." Nicole responded by opening her mouth, and much to my shock, LA balled the panties up, and stuffed them into her client's mouth. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Tara looking at me, a somewhat shocked on her face as well, and I just gave her a small shrug of my shoulders, as if to say, "Just watch."

"Spread your legs further, I want better access to your cunt, pet," LA instructed. It wasn't easy for Nicole to comply, given the staunch nature of her thighs and legs, but she did her best to slide her feet another foot or so wider. LA reached down, and began stroking her client's pussy, first on the outside, but then I could see that she was pistoning first one, then two fingers inside of her. I could see that Nicole was beginning to react; she was not standing quite as stoically, and I could see a small quiver in her legs as she struggled to keep her them straight and immobile. Beads of sweat had started to form on her chest, and her breathing began to accelerate.

LA continue to ram her fingers in and out of Nicole's pussy for a few more minutes, adding a third one, and I thought her client would cum on the spot. I could see that her red pubes were soaked, the beads of her pussy juice glistening in the light of the room. But then LA stopped, pulling all three fingers out entirely, causing her client to gasp, "Please Mistress, I need to cum."

LA slapped one of her tits, hard enough to leave a mark. The tit flopped back and forth a few times. "No, slut, you'll cum when I say you can cum, and not before."

LA walked over to the dresser again, and reached into the drawer she had left open from before. She removed something small, and I once again could not see what she had in her hand. She walked back to the front of Nicole, and with one hand, grabbed one of her nipples between her thumb and forefinger, and yanked it outward. With her other hand, she opened the jaws of what I could now see was a large nipple clamp, and closed it over the extended nipple. I could see that Nicole was trying not to react, but a brief "Oggghh" escaped from her lips through her panties, before she was able to stifle it. LA then did the same to the other nipple, and knowing it was coming, Nicole was able to stifle a reaction this time. The two nipples were a darker shade of red than they had been before, with the pressure of the clamps on them.




Sensitive Research Ch. 06



LA then took the last thing in her hand, a small chain, and connected each end to a clamp. She took the middle of the chain, yanked, and said to Nicole, "Follow me." Nicole followed closely behind LA, not wanting any further pressure on her nipples, as she was led over to a small sofa that was against the wall, only a few feet away from where Tara and I were sitting. The two of us shifted around in our chair to follow them as they approached. LA put a throw pillow on the cushions on the far side, and said to her client, "Lie down here, on your knees, head down. Put your tits on the pillow."

Nicole felt with her hand, found the back of the sofa, and lay down on it, gently placing her clamped nipples on the softness of the pillow, with her head resting on her hands on the other side of it. She was on her knees, thrusting her ass up, not more than five feet or so from me and only slightly further from Tara. Her large ass was very visible to us, and I was somewhat surprised to see that it was quite smooth, not dimpled or filled with cellulite as I would have expected for such a large woman. LA gently patted her on the back, as though to say, "Good job."

She walked over to the dresser once again, closed the first drawer, and opened a second. She brought out what looked like a leather-covered paddle, and my first thought was to wonder if this is what she had used on me yesterday. It was slightly larger than a ping-pong paddle, and it had a rubber handle, I imagine to make it easier to grip. She walked back to the sofa, and as she did, I glanced out of the corner of my eye at Tara. She had lifted her pen from her notepad, and seemed mesmerized by what was occurring. Her eyes followed LA back to the sofa, and I turned my attention back to her as well.

LA stood next to the sofa, near Nicole's ass. She lightly ran the paddle over Nicole's back, rubbing her with it, as if to familiarize her with the implement. She leaned down, and speaking softly in her ear, yet in a voice that was still loud enough for Tara and me to hear, said, "You know what this is my pet, don't you?"

Nicole couldn't answer because of the panties in her mouth, so she nodded her head as best she could in the inclined position she was in.

"Okay, because your mouth is full of your wet panties, I won't make you count, but I'm going to give you ten today." She raised her right hand, and brought the paddle down on Nicole's left cheek with a loud "Thwack." I shuddered as she did, knowing exactly how it felt. I hoped that Tara did not see my reaction, but when I glanced sidewise at her again, I could see that she was staring at LA and Nicole, and appeared to be totally oblivious of me. 

As the blows rained down on Nicole's cheeks, alternating one and then the other, my arousal continued, the memories of what LA had done to me yesterday flooding back to me. I too had stopped taking notes, now just watching the proceedings. A soft grunt came out of Nicole's full mouth as the paddle hit her each time.

After the ten blows, LA stopped. Nicole continued to lie there, head down, ass thrust rudely up into the air. There were quite visible red marks on both cheeks, and LA put the paddle down on a small end table next to the sofa. She ran her hands gently over both cheeks, as if to assess her handiwork. She then turned to the two of us, and with a smile, pointed at Tara, and with her finger, gave a "come here" indication. 

To say that the look on Tara's face was one of shock was an understatement. She had an expression as if the devil himself had beckoned to her. She vigorously shook her head no, knowing she couldn't make any sound. But LA refused to accept her answer. She walked over to her, and reached for one of her hands, pulling her out of her chair. 

Tara looked pleadingly at LA, still shaking her head, and then looked at me, hoping that I would rescue her. I looked at Tara, and then up at LA, who just stared at me in return, as if daring me to defy her. I knew I could not stop her, could not protect Tara from what was to come, so I turned, looking back at Tara, and slowly nodded my head up and down.

Seeing she would get no protection from me, Tara dejectedly rose, put her notepad and pen on the chair, and allowed LA to lead her.



Sensitive Research Ch. 07



I strongly suggest you read the earlier chapters of the series, as they provide important context about the characters and themes of the series.

**********

With Lady Amber leading her by the hand over to her submissive client Nicole, Tara looked at me once again, with eyes begging me to rescue her. I knew I could not stop Lady Amber, or LA as I called her in my notes, given how I had submitted myself to her yesterday. I glanced away from Tara's terrified-looking eyes and busied myself in the notes on my laptop.

Tara started to say something to LA, but before she could get the first word out of her mouth, LA stopped and put a finger to her lips, mouthing a quiet, "Shh." Knowing that I would not protect her, and unable to resist herself, she gave in and allowed LA to continue to walk her over to her client. I looked up from my laptop screen, and when they reached the sofa, LA switched her hand from gripping Tara's to placing it gently on the back and guiding it to Nicole's wide ass. Still holding the back of it, she moved it along first one cheek, touching every square inch, and then the other. She repeated this, so that she had run her hand twice over each of Nicole's pink-marked hemispheres. She then lifted Tara's hand up and released it.

She walked to the front of the sofa where Nicole's head was, and reaching down, said, "Open." Nicole must have opened her mouth, as LA retrieved her panties and dropped them on the floor next to the sofa. "You're very well marked, my pet," LA said to Nicole. "Did the touching help soothe you?"

"Yes, Mistress Amber," the submissive responded, "thank you for easing my pain."

"Oh, it's not me you should be thanking," LA chuckled in response. "That was Tara who was helping soothe you."

I could not see the look on Nicole's face, with her head buried in the cushions of the sofa, but her body seemed to jerk in response to this news. "Yes, my little slut, Tara is participating in your debasement. Do you have a problem with that?"

"No, ma'am," she responded, without hesitation.

"Good, because you know when you are here for a session, I call all the shots and you'll do everything I say, won't you?"

"Yes, ma'am."

LA patted her gently on the head. "That's a good girl."

Tara again started to say something, and once again, LA put a finger to Tara's lips. She took Tara's hand, led her back to me, and bent down to quietly whisper in my ear - loud enough for Tara and me to hear, but not loud enough for Nicole to hear us. "I'd like you both to step outside with me for a minute."

I rose, placing my laptop on the chair, and joined LA and Tara as they headed for the door. LA did not say anything to her client, who I gathered was used to being left in the session room in the past while LA stepped out of the room.

We walked up the stairs, and LA closed the door behind us. LA asked Tara, "Are you interested in gaining some firsthand experience as part of your research, Tara?"

"I don't know," she responded, looking at me. "Would that be ethical?" she asked.

"Well, there is some tradition in psychology of participatory research," I responded. "It's somewhat rare, but not unheard of. I'm okay with it if you are."

Tara hesitated a few seconds before she said, "I was thinking about continuing this line of work in my own dissertation research, so maybe it would be helpful for me to get this kind of experience." Turning to me, she asked, "But shouldn't you be gaining this experience as well."

Before I could answer LA jumped in. "Oh, don't worry about her, Tara. She's older than you and I'm sure has had many more experiences than you have," she responded somewhat ambiguously, but with a sly smile on her lips.

I certainly didn't want this conversation to go any further, afraid that the topic of what LA did to me yesterday would come up, so I thought quickly on my feet and came up with another reason. "Besides, one of us needs to be taking notes, so I'll do that while you are participating."

With a shrug of her shoulders, Tara responded, "Alright, if you're both okay with it, I'm game. What do I need to do?"

"Great," LA said, clapping her hands. "You just follow my lead, and I'll guide you through everything. Do you promise to do that, and do everything I ask of you? I don't want to have any more interruptions in this session with Nicole."

Tara looked a little hesitant, but LA came over, put her arms around her and gave her a hug, patting the back of her head in a maternal fashion. "It will be just fine, sweetie, trust me - you'll enjoy it and I think you'll gain some great experience. You do trust me, don't you?" As she said this, she was looking over Tara's shoulder and right into my eyes, bringing back to me the memories of my session with LA yesterday. Another smile came to her lips, and she winked at me. I wasn't sure what she intended to do, but I felt that I could not call a halt to things at this point, and had to let her continue.

This must have been enough to convince Tara, because she pulled back, and said, "Okay, let's go." The three of us headed back down the stairs, LA first, followed by Tara, and then me. I went back to the chair, picked up my laptop, and sat down. Tara stood in the middle of the room, waiting her instructions.

"Okay, my pet, we're back after a little break. Are you ready to continue?"

"Yes, Mistress Amber," Nicole responded. She must have been very well trained by LA, as it appeared that she had not moved an inch during the time we were gone. She was still head down on the sofa, her large ass stuck up in the air and her large tits splayed out beneath her body, each nipple clamped with the chain running between the two.

LA walked back to the dresser, reached in to grab something, and headed back to the sofa. As she approached, I could see that she had in her hand what looked like a set of small balls that were centered on a thin, rigid plastic cord, along with a small bottle of something. I knew from my research that the balls were anal beads, as their size grew from small on one end to larger on the other. The largest appeared to be about the size of a ping pong ball, and just beyond that last bead the plastic cord ended in a large plastic ring about an inch and half in diameter. I surmised that the bottle in her other hand must have been some kind of lubricant. She handed both to Tara, who took them, and she returned to the dresser. She opened up a deep drawer at the bottom and took out a large towel. She came back to the sofa, and unfolding it, placed the towel between Nicole's spread legs so that it ran from about her knees up to where her breasts were flattened against the sofa cushion.

"Okay, slut, I'm going to be giving some instructions to Tara here, so she'll be participating in parts of the rest of the session." LA handed the bottle of lube to Tara. "Go ahead and drip some of this down her crack, sweetie." Tara looked a little surprised at this term of endearment, as was I, but she quickly took the lube, flipped open the top, and held it an inch or so above the top of Nicole's crack. She squeezed, and the liquid began to drip from the bottle, slowly at first, but with a slightly stronger stream as she applied more pressure. I watched the viscous liquid begin to run down her crack. It was quite thick, so it took a few seconds for it to reach her puckered asshole, pool there a bit, and then continue down past her perineum. A few drops stuck onto the bottom of Nicole's labia. Nicole's wide ass shook a little bit in reaction to this stimulation of her ass and labia. I could see her breathing was getting heavier, and took note of this on my laptop.

"That's enough," LA said, her voice waking me from my reverie. Tara recapped the lube, and put it on the coffee table next to where Nicole had put her clothes. "You want to make sure everything is well coated in there, so take your fingers and rub in the lube." Tara hesitated once again, I assume because she was unsure whether she could really do this. But she must have gotten her resolve up, because she took a finger and gently rubbed the lube around the crack. I could see everything very clearly, and it appeared that she was doing her best to avoid Nicole's rosebud and labia, however. When she finished, LA reached down, picked up Nicole's panties, and handed them to Tara with a smile. Tara took them, looking at LA quizzically. LA mimed wiping her hands, and Tara got it, and began using the panties to wipe the lube off of her hands. She placed the panties, now soaked with lube as well as Nicole's saliva and pussy juices, on the table.

LA took the anal beads and brushed them into Nicole's crack, running them up and down, and rotating them as she did so. I gathered that she was getting them lubed up as well. She then handed them by the ring to Tara. "Go ahead and begin guiding them in from the smallest bead first, sweetie."

Tara got closer to Nicole. She began to do what LA had commanded, but before she got the first bead near to Nicole's rosebud, she stopped. "I don't know if I can. . .," she started.

But before she could get anymore out, LA interrupted her. "Go ahead," she said in a stern, commanding voice. "You agreed to do everything I said, didn't you?" Tara meekly nodded her head up and down. "Besides, she's such a slut that she loves having things shoved up her ass." She patted Nicole's back a couple of times. "Don't you, my pet?"

"Yes, Mistress," the client responded.

"Yes, what?" LA asked her.

"Yes, I like having things shoved up my ass."

"That's a good girl," LA said, again patting her back. "Go ahead, Tara." And once again with the stern voice, "And please don't challenge my commands again."

"Okay," Tara said, somewhat reluctantly. She took the smallest bead, and guided it to Nicole's crinkled rosebud. With two fingers on either side, she gave it a little shove, and it popped right in. Nicole did not move a muscle as she did this.

"Keep going," LA said, "get them all in there."

There must have been about ten beads on the cord, and one by one, Tara repeated what she had done with the first. By about halfway, I could see Nicole begin to respond, with a slight clenching of her ass, as if she was trying to resist the intruder. By the second to last, this was accompanied by a slight grunt emanating from her lips. Finally, Tara got the last one in, leaving only the large plastic ring protruding from Nicole's ass.

"That's a good little pet," LA said, "you've had much bigger things in that fat ass of yours, so you shouldn't be complaining about this."

"Okay Tara, now I want you to get behind her on the sofa, and begin to rub her outer labia between your thumb and forefinger." The way LA said this, it was almost like she was giving clinical instructions to a nursing student.

Tara looked at LA, and then at me, as if to plead for someone to stop the proceedings. "Please Amber, I've never touched another woman. . . ."

Again, LA cut her off. She grabbed Tara's wrist, and almost dragged her over to where I sat. Once more, she lowered her voice so that only the two of us could hear her, and began a measured, yet stern tirade that was clearly directed at both of us. "Look, I'm going to say this only one more time. You agreed to this, and I'm not letting you back out. Either you both do as I tell you, or I will throw the two of you out of here right now. And not just that, but I'll also withdraw my consent for participation in the study, and instruct my clients not to speak to you as well. And one more thing: I'll put the word out to every domme I know that the two of you can't be trusted, so your study will effectively be shut down. So what's it going to be?" She glared at both of us, daring us to challenge her. I was afraid that she was going to expose to Tara her dominance of me yesterday, as a way of blackmailing me into supporting her. But she stopped there, and just waited for a response.

I was shocked by the swiftness and tone of this demand. But I knew that I couldn't force Tara into something she was uncomfortable with, as that would be a huge breach of professional ethics, and if Tara reported it to the university, I would be in big trouble. I felt that I had to protect her, even if LA's threat could in fact pull the plug on my study. I could see there was a tear in the corner of one of Tara's eyes. I said to her in a low voice as well, "Tara, it's okay, if you're not comfortable with what's going on, we'll walk away from this."

She sniffled and rubbed the tear away from her eye with one finger. I knew she felt conflicted; she was clearly troubled by what was going on, but I also knew that she was very loyal to me. Our relationship was more than one of professor and research assistant; we had become friends, and even more so with what had transpired in our hotel room last night.

"No, Susan, I'm okay, I can do it," she responded softly. "I want to support the study, and as I said, I know that this will help me in preparing for my own research. Just give me a second to pull myself together."

LA looked at me, as if daring me to contradict Tara's acquiescence. She knew I would not, but gave me a look anyway. She turned back to Tara. "Good, we'll proceed when you're ready." Turning back to me, she spat out, "But I mean it - one more time, and it's over." I simply nodded, acknowledging the terms of our agreement.

Tara reached down next to the chair in which she had been sitting, and retrieved her purse. She opened it, and pulled out a pack of tissues. Removing one, she dabbed her eye and then blew her nose, placing the used tissue into her purse. She replaced it on the floor. "Okay," she said, with a wan smile across her lips. "I'm ready."

She walked back to the sofa and positioned herself behind Nicole, who was still in the same position in which we had left her. It must have been close to 40 minutes since she had assumed that position, and I wondered to myself how she could do it without cramping up. But again I realized that she must have had much experience with this and was well trained, both physically and emotionally.

LA followed Tara to the sofa, and stood beside it, almost in a supervisory posture. It once again made me think that this was almost like watching a nursing class, but I knew that no nursing class would be conducted in such a fashion. Tara looked up at LA, who gave a nod, and Tara kneeled on the sofa behind Nicole. She tentatively reached her thumb and forefinger out and touch Nicole's left labium. The submissive flinched at Tara's touch, but then her body quieted back down. I could see that Tara was gently rubbing it as she had been instructed. Her body language at first appeared as if she was touching something alien, but after a minute or so, she seemed to settle in and was more comfortable with it.

After a couple of minutes, Tara switched to the other labium, repeating the movements. I was positioned at an angle such that I had a clear view of what she was doing, and I could see a glistening beginning to appear on both of Nicole's labia. At first I thought it was the lube that had gotten down there, but as Tara continued massaging the right labium, I could see a thinner, much less viscous liquid appearing. It was becoming clear to me that Nicole was enjoying what Tara was doing to her, as this was pussy juice starting to leak out of her vagina. 

As Tara continued, LA stepped forward to Nicole's head, and grabbed the chain attached to the nipple clamps. She gave a quick tug, eliciting a muffled groan from the mouth of her submissive. She repeated this a few more times, and I could see that even more juices were leaking out of her pussy. Some of them were dripping onto Tara's fingers as she continued to massage Nicole's labia.

LA then stepped back next to where Tara was kneeling. "Okay, sweetie, now I want you to put your fingers into her cunt, and move them in and out." I wondered if Tara was going to be able to comply with this command, but the last tongue lashing that LA laid on her must have done the trick. Without hesitation, she let go of the labium and did as she was told, taking two fingers and pushing them into Nicole's pussy. The submissive was so wet that Nicole met no resistance; her fingers slid easily in and out of her. Nicole was so turned on that the juices were now dripping onto the towel that LA had placed between her legs. With every thrust, Tara's fingers were covered even more in the juices. I took a sniff, and the odor permeating the room confirmed the state of Nicole's arousal.

"Add another finger," LA told her. Tara did as she was told, so that now three of them were moving in and out of Nicole's pussy. There still appeared to be no resistance. Nicole was starting to moan and I could see her back moving up and down as her breathing got deeper, the stimulation clearly having an effect as she grew nearer and nearer to a climax. 

As Tara continued this, LA reached for the ring on the anal beads, and gently tugged, so that the largest bead popped out of her ass. This caused Nicole to gasp, and LA repeated this two more times pulling two more beads out of her ass, each one followed by a similar gasp from Nicole. LA took her fingers, and rubbed them underneath where Tara was pistoning her own digits in and out of the submissive, and coated them with her pussy juices. She then rubbed her fingers on the three beads that were outside of Nicole's ass, and holding onto the largest bead, swiftly pushed them back into her crinkled rosebud. They went right in without any resistance, her ass was so opened and ready. LA repeated this two more times.

"Mistress," Nicole panted, "I'm close to cumming."

"Oh no, you don't," LA responded, "no cumming without my permission."

"Arrgghh," Nicole grunted, clearly trying to do her best to stop herself from orgasming. Tara looked at LA questioningly, as if asking if she should stop. LA shook her head no, and gestured for Tara to continue. I presumed that she must know Nicole well enough to be able to determine how close she was to her climax.

Nicole's body began to heave even more up and down, and her pussy continued to leak onto Tara's fingers and then down to the towel. Finally, after about another 30 seconds, LA let go of the anal beads ring, grabbed onto Tara's wrist, and yanked her fingers out of Nicole's pussy. 

"Awwwwwwww," Nicole screamed. I thought at first she was climaxing, but then she panted, "Please Mistress, I'm so close, please let me cum."

LA again patted her back. "Oh no, pet, not until I say you're ready will you cum. You know that's the rule." Nicole again groaned, but her breathing started to slow down and the dripping from her pussy began to subside. She still had the ring of the anal beads sticking out of her ass.

"We've been working very hard, we need a little break." She walked over to the dresser, reached into the bottom drawer again, and took out two small towels. She wiped her hands with one and then tossed her towel into a hamper next to the dresser. She tossed the other towel to Tara, who did the same. 

LA walked over to the other side of the room, where there was a mini fridge. She opened the door, and took out a bottle of what looked like iced tea, and held it out to Tara. Tara nodded her head, got up from the couch, and taking it from her, opened it up and took a drink. LA offered one to me as well, and thanking her, I did the same. She then opened one herself and took a swig.

"That's better," she said, placing her bottle on the table next to Nicole's clothes. "Ok, pet, up you go." Nicole began to rise very slowly off of the couch, and stretched her sore muscles as she stood by the couch waiting for her next command. I smiled as I observed the ring of the anal beads still protruding from her ass. LA picked up the bath towel from the couch and threw it onto the hamper. She removed the blindfold from Nicole's head, who blinked in the now bright light hitting her eyes. "Go kneel in front of the couch," she said, gesturing to a spot on the carpet.




Sensitive Research Ch. 07



LA took a couple of steps to stand in front of Tara, and turned around with her back to her. "Be a dear, sweetie, and do my zipper for me." Tara complied, reaching up and undoing the hook, and then pulling the zipper down the back of her dress, stopping at the bottom at LA's waist. 

LA said, "Thank you," and much to my surprise - and presumably Tara's - gave her a quick peck on the cheek. It was a sweet gesture, and I thought that perhaps she had done it to reassure Tara after being so stern with her just a few minutes ago. 

Tara said, "You're welcome," and LA shrugged the black dress off of her shoulders. She let it drop to the floor, exposing a black lacy bra and matching panties. She turned around once again and said to Tara, "Now help me with my bra." Tara's fingers seemed to be trembling a bit as she reached up, and undid the first hook, and then the two remaining ones. LA took the straps off of her shoulders, and removed the bra from her breasts, placing it on top of Nicole's clothes on top of the coffee table. Her nipples were standing straight out and appeared to be quite engorged. I presumed that she was getting quite a bit of pleasure herself from the session with Nicole, who was still kneeling in front of the couch, her back to the actions that had just occurred.

"Why don't you go ahead and take a seat for a few minutes," and she pointed to the chair Tara had been sitting in earlier. Tara complied, and picked up her notepad and pen, ready to begin her observations once again.

LA rolled the black panties down her legs, picked them up along with her dress, and placed those on top of her bra on the table. The sight of her lush pubes rekindled the memory of my servicing of her yesterday. It was a vivid vision, so much so that I could almost recover the taste of her pussy in my mouth as I sat here with my laptop on my knees. She walked to the dresser, grabbed a fresh bath towel, and walked over to the couch. She arranged the towel on the sofa, and then sat herself down on top of it. She spread her legs, and looking at Nicole, said in a soft yet commanding voice, "Get to work slut."

Nicole immediately scooted forward on her knees, and lowered at the waist to bring her face in between LA's legs. I could see that LA was not sitting straight on the couch, but in fact had angled herself a bit so that she was facing more toward where Tara and I were seated. We thus had a front row seat to what Nicole was doing, and I could see her stick out her tongue and begin to gently brush it against the inside of LA's thigh. She licked up and down, side to side, first one and then the other. LA was laying against the rear of the sofa, her head back, eyes closed, clearly enjoying the service her submissive client was providing.

Nicole then turned her attention to LA's pubes, reaching out with her hands to grab on to her labia and extend them. She thrust out her tongue and began to lick the inside of each labium, first one, than the other. She took one between her lips and sucked on it like it was a large, wet, pink lollipop, and repeated the action on the other. As had happened with herself, LA's pussy was now starting to glisten with her own juices, testifying to the state of her arousal. Her nipples were even larger than when they first appeared from within her bra, and an occasional hand would rise up and touch one as Nicole continued to lick and suck her pussy. Once again, I found my hands were silenced on the keyboard as I was mesmerized by the theater in front of me.

"Okay, pet, now my clit." Nicole's head lifted slightly, and her tongue extended up and outward to the top of her mistress's slit. She began rotating it around, and as she did this, I saw beads of sweat begin to rise up on LA's chest. Her breathing was quickening, and I suspected that the submissive was well versed in how to please her domme. She continued running her tongue around LA's clit, and then leaned a bit more forward and sucked it between her lips.

"Oh, you dirty slut, you know just what Mommy likes, don't you." LA was ow panting, I assume now close to her own orgasm. After less than a minute, though, she placed her hands on Nicole's forehead and pushed her back away from her crotch. "Hold on a sec, pet."

LA scooted her ass forward on the towel so that it was closer to the edge of the sofa. She then lifted her legs off the floor and placed them flat on the edge, and flopped them open. Her crinkled rosebud was now lewdly on display, almost winking at me, and I could see that her pussy juices that had coated her labia and matted her pubes had migrated downward and had wetted her asshole. "Come back here, my pet, and go lower this time."

Nicole leaned forward again, her head angled more downward than before, as she extended her tongue and gently licked at her domme's slightly browned rosebud. She ran it up and down from LA's perineum to her asshole, teasing her as she went. Even though it wasn't receiving any direct stimulation, I could see that LA's pussy was still leaking fluid profusely, coming out of the swell of her mons and running down her crack until it pooled on the towel.

LA allowed the teasing to go on for a few minutes, and then told her submissive what she wanted. "Stick it in, bitch. I want to feel you in there deep," she snarled at her. Nicole immediately responded, bowing her head, and I could see her tongue spearing at her mistress's rosebud. She pushed forward until, with a gasp from LA, she must have broken the barrier and gotten her tongue firmly inside. LA's breathing gained speed, and she hissed, "That's it, now move it around, you slut." Nicole capitulated, and I could see her head bobbing back and forth as she penetrated her domme's asshole.

After another minute or so, and has her chest continued to rise and fall, I heard from LA's mouth come a guttural, "Arrrggghhh" and her hips bucked wildly as her orgasm overtook her. Nicole tried valiantly to ride it out, doing her best to keep her tongue in contact with her mistress's ass as it rocked up and down on the towel. Finally, after about 20 seconds, she stopped moving, and settled back onto the couch. Nicole sat back, freeing what I could only imagine was her very sore tongue.

I hadn't taken a single note for about the last ten minutes, and as I glanced over at Tara, I saw that her pen was resting on her notepad, and she too was staring at the tableau in front of us. I was shocked to see someone orgasm from anal stimulation alone. In the early stages of my study I had done quite a bit of reading on female sexuality, and I knew how challenging it could be for some women to achieve orgasm. So to see a woman who could cum just from analingus was stunning to me.

LA dropped her legs to the floor again, and after catching her breath, sat forward. She reached out to her submissive, still sitting back on her haunches in front of her, and placed a hand under her chin. "Good job, my pet. For that you will be rewarded later."

"Thank you, Mistress," Nicole responded. I could tell from the look on her face that she was truly proud of her own performance in pleasing her domme.

LA leaned back into the sofa again, and looked at Tara and me and smiled. "How was that professor, did you get some good notes?"

I stumbled for a second in trying to formulate a response. "Uh yes, we. . .I. . .yeah, we did, thanks." I quickly put my fingers back on the keyboard and pretended to type something, but I suspected that LA was as aware as I that I hadn't written anything for some time.

"Good, because it's all about the research now, isn't it," she laughed. "Okay, Tara, your turn."

I turned to Tara and registered the look of shock on her face. She clearly didn't know what to say, and just sat there with her mouth open. I couldn't tell what LA's intent was either. Was she implying it was Tara's turn to be on her knees in front of LA, or to be sitting on the couch ready to be serviced sexually by her client? Remembering her agreement to do everything that LA commanded, she rose from her chair, put her pen and pad down, and walked over to the couch.



Sensitive Research Ch. 08



I strongly suggest you read the earlier chapters of the series, as they provide important context about the characters and themes of the series.

**********

I was surprised when Lady Amber (or LA, as I was referring to her in my notes) - the dominatrix whose session we were observing,- called my research assistant, Tara, over to participate once again in the session with her client, Nicole. Up until this session, which was our tenth or so, Tara and I had been passive observers of the relationship between the dommes and their female clients. But in this session, LA had not-so-gently coaxed Tara into being a participant. 

This was quite something for me to have seen, such intimate sex between two women like this, and to have been so close to the action. It was difficult to remain the impassionate observer, taking notes on my laptop, as this sex scene played out right in front of me. I also had to admit to myself that I was very aroused by what I saw, as evidenced by the growing wetness between my legs. The scene also caused me to flashback to the day before, when LA had taken advantage of my sublimated submissive tendencies and dominated me as well.

As Tara approached the couch, LA got up from where she had been sitting while Nicole had performed both cunnilingus and analingus on her. I could see how wet LA's pussy was, both from Nicole's ministrations as well as her own natural lubrication. There was a clear wet spot on the towel covering the couch where she had been sitting. Nicole was sitting back on her haunches expectedly, her face still covered by LA's juices

"Okay, Tara, sit yourself down here," LA commanded, pointing to the couch. Tara quickly complied, taking the domme's spot on top of the towel. Tara must have been able to squelch any squeamishness she might have felt, because she sat right down. LA still stood totally nude, apparently unashamed at her nakedness, and showing no signs that she would put on her clothes, which were on the table nearby, at any moment.

"Okay, spread your legs, and let her get to work." Tara hesitated at this demand, looking at me once again, as if I would be able to rescue her. But LA's earlier threat to shut down our research study if we didn't do as she said must have rung in Tara's ears, because after this brief hesitation, she complied, opening up her legs as wide as her dress would allow.

This must not have been to LA's satisfaction, because she came over to Tara, grabbed the hem of her dress, and pulled it up toward her waist, exposing Tara's red lace panties. I hadn't seen her put these on when we got dressed in our hotel room earlier that day, but the sight of them caused a small stirring in my crotch, reminding me of the talk the two of us had had and the brief kiss that we had shared. I also had a very good view of Tara's long legs.

I was broken out of my reverie by the sound of LA's voice. "There that's better," she was saying, having placed her hands on the inside of Tara's thighs and insistently pushed them wider, providing better access for what I assumed would be the service to be provided by her submissive client, Nicole. "Okay, slut, get to work," LA commanded.

Tara still had a somewhat terrified look on her face as Nicole leaned forward once again and resumed her position directly in front of the couch. From my angle I could see everything that she was doing, which started with a gentle licking of the inside of Tara's right thigh. With the first touch of her tongue, I could see Tara shudder. I couldn't tell what the reaction was; was it one of anticipation for what she knew was to come, or one of revulsion? I did not know whether Tara had had any sexual experience with women before, so this may have been an uncomfortable scene, not just because of her participation but because of her being touched by another woman.

She continued to appear tense for the first couple of minutes, her eyes closed as if willing the scene to end, her arms extended and her palms flat on the sofa cushion. She looked like she was going to try to just lift herself right off of the couch and transport herself to an entirely different place. But as Nicole switched over to the other thigh and continued licking her, I saw Tara begin to relax. Her breathing began to get deeper, and she loosened the tension in her arms. Her head was lolling back a bit on the sofa, and I thought I could just make out a slight stiffening of her nipples beneath her dress. Notwithstanding her initial reluctance, she appeared to begin enjoying what LA's client was doing to her.

After a couple of minutes working on her left thigh, Nicole scooted even further forward, and stuck her tongue way out of her mouth and began running it up and down Tara's panties. There was no mistaking Tara's reaction this time, as a visual shudder shook her body, and her breathing began to come in quicker breaths. I saw LA, who had been standing a few feet away observing the activity, walk over behind the couch. She leaned down, and whispered something in Tara's right ear, but I could not hear what she said. Upon hearing whatever she said, Tara leaned forward, her eyes flew open, and she turned to look at LA. But LA gently caressed her cheek, which seemed to reassure Tara, and once again her eyes closed. 

LA reached behind Tara's neck, and grabbed onto the zipper at the back of her dress. She eased it downward gently, as far as it would go with Tara still seated on the couch. She pushed the sleeveless top of the dress off of Tara's two shoulders, and down her arms, and then gently extracted her arms from them. This left Tara naked from the waist up, other than the red lace bra that matched her panties, and she lay against the back cushion once again. With the top of her dress removed, I could now easily see her nipples poking at the cups of her bra, her arousal clearly demonstrated.

LA wasn't done yet, however, as she let her hands slide downward over Tara's chest, and began gently palming each of her breasts, rubbing them gently round and round. Once again, I found myself mesmerized, no longer taking notes, just staring at what was happening in front of me. I realized that LA was now looking at me as she fondled Tara's breasts, a small smile across her lips. While this was happening, I could see that Nicole was continuing to lick at Tara's pussy , her oral service eliciting a large, dark - almost maroon - wet spot on her panties. There was no question in my mind that Tara had crossed over from reluctance to acquiescence as she was enjoying the attention being paid to her.

LA once more whispered in Tara's ear, and Tara leaned forward again, this time without any hesitation or other reaction. LA leaned down behind Tara's body, and I could see she was undoing her bra. She reached up, pushed the straps down Tara's arms, and removed it entirely. Tara was now totally naked from the waist up, and her breasts were on full display to LA as well as me. Her breasts were not large, certainly not as big as my own, or LA's, but befitting her younger age they showed no sag and sat prominently on her chest. Her nipples were quite erect, given all the attention they had received, and appeared to be a good three-quarters of an inch in length and at least a half-inch in diameter. She had lovely mocha-tinged areolas topping each breast, which contrasted nicely with her milky skin. 

LA gently pushed her against the back of the sofa once again. As she did so, she reached down with her hands and grasped each of Tara's nipples between her thumb and forefinger, and gave a little tug. This caused Tara to audibly gasp, and her body appeared to almost rise from the sofa a slight bit. But she continued to sit there, allowing both LA and Nicole to continue their efforts.

After a couple of minutes of playing with her nipples, leaving them even more red and distended than before, LA walked around to the front of the sofa. She tapped Nicole on the head, and Nicole immediately leaned back away from Tara. "Lift your lovely ass, Tara," LA said, this time loud enough for me to hear. Tara complied, and lifted her ass off the sofa, allowing LA to pull her dress down her body and off of her legs. Tara must have known what was coming, because she lifted her ass once again, and LA grabbed on to both sides of her red panties and removed those from her legs as well, leaving Tara naked on the couch. I took in her body; I had had brief glimpses of it in our hotel room the last couple of days, but had not seen it quite as rudely displayed as it was now. I could see clearly now what I had not been able to make out before, that her pussy was closely trimmed. And I certainly had not seen her as aroused as she clearly was, with her nipples poking proudly outward and her short pubic hairs glistening with her wetness.

Tara lay back against the sofa once again, and spread her legs even wider than before. Nicole, still looking at LA, waited for the signal, and with a small nod of the domme's head, Nicole resumed her licking of Tara's pussy, this time unencumbered by the panties. She placed broad licks up and down the edges first, seemingly teasing Tara's outer labia, bathing each one with her saliva. I could see that she then took each one between her lips, first the right then the left, sucking each one. By the time she finished a few minutes later, the labia were proudly and prominently sticking out of Tara's pussy. They were bright pink in color, and looked like a pair of wings beckoning Nicole deeper into her sex.

Nicole answered this call, extending her tongue and using t to pierce into Tara's pussy. I tried to continue to take notes, but found it difficult with the scene unfolding in front of me. I could see Tara's chest moving up and down under the exertion of her breathing. Small beads of sweat were forming on her upper chest and were dripping slowly down between her breasts to pool around her belly button, before the volume grew enough to where it cascaded down toward her pussy. As Nicole continued licking her, Tara's pussy continued to glisten with the combination of the sweat and her juices.

LA had stepped back again, and was now seated at the other end of the couch, watching as her submissive continued to lick my research assistant. Every now and then she would look at me, as if to gauge my reaction. I tried my best to appear disinterested and focused on taking notes, but I was quite aware of my own arousal as my panties were becoming soaked with my juices, and I greatly doubted that I was fooling LA.

As much as I tried to maintain my professional standing in this situation, it was clear that Tara had abandoned hers entirely. Nicole had moved from spearing her tongue in and out of Tara's pussy to now focusing on her clit. She was rolling her tongue around Tara's clit, and the more she did this, the more Tara's upper body began heaving and moving around on the couch. Finally, after about five minutes of this, a loud "Ahhhhhhhhh shit!" emanated from Tara's mouth, and her crotch lifted up off the couch at least a foot. Nicole did her best to keep her mouth attached to it, and finally after about 15-20 seconds, Tara collapsed back on the couch, her breathing ragged and labored. Nicole sat back on her haunches, and I could see that her face was absolutely soaked. It appeared that Tara must have ejaculated all over Nicole, because the liquid was dripping off of her face and onto the carpeting. 

"Bravo," I heard LA say, as she began clapping her hands, a broad smile lighting up her face. "You're certainly going to have something to write about now aren't you, Tara?" she asked her.

Tara opened her eyes, but it took her about a half minute to catch her breath and begin to speak. "Yes, ma'am, that was quite something," she said, as she reached down to the towel between her legs. She rubbed it across her pussy, doing her best to dry herself off. After doing this, she looked over at me, a sheepish look on her face. I wanted to reassure her that what happened was okay, so I smiled and winked at her. She then turned to LA and said, "May I get up?"

"Not quite yet, dear, I'm enjoying seeing you right there for now," LA responded. Tara sat back again on the couch, and I could not tell if her reaction was one of disappointment, or if she was pleased. I knew her well enough to know she felt conflicted, torn between having abandoned her role as the objective research assistant to being a direct participant in the proceedings. But she and I both knew that we had to go along with LA was doing, otherwise we risked having her shut down our research project. And we both had invested too much time and money in the project to risk that right now.

LA rose from the couch and stood in front of Tara and next to Nicole. "Was that your first time with a woman, Tara?" she asked her.

"No, Lady Amber," she responded. "I have had sex with women in the past." I wasn't surprised to hear this; while Tara and I had never talked about it, and I assumed she was heterosexual, I knew that she was a very open-minded person and I would not have been shocked if she had told me she had had experience with women in the past. 

"Tell me more," LA said to her.

"Well, I had a couple of girlfriends when I was an undergraduate, close female friends I mean, and we experimented a little sexually. We'd get a little drunk, and it would start with kissing, and then we'd start touching each other, you know, petting."

"And did you enjoy that?"

"Yes, Lady Amber, I did. I felt it helped me get close to these friends, and we had a very special relationship because of it. And I enjoyed the sexual aspect as well."

"Did you continue these relationships after college?"

"No, ma'am, we didn't. After graduation, we all moved to different cities, and while we stayed in close touch with each other, we did not have much opportunity to continue our physical relationship."

"And you didn't find other women to be with sexually?" LA asked her.

"No, I think it was hard to develop those close emotional relationships like we did in college, so I never found any other women that I wanted to be with sexually. I've just been with men since college."

"Well, you certainly seemed to enjoy what Nicole was doing to you," LA said, in a teasing manner.

Tara appeared to blush before answering in a soft voice, "Yes, Lady Amber, I can admit I did."

"And what about BDSM, have you played around with that before?"

"No, ma'am, this research project has been my first experience with that," Tara replied.

"What do you think about it? Do you find it arousing?"

Tara looked over at me, again as if she was looking for reassurance. I wanted to support her and didn't want her to feel any more uncomfortable than she may already be feeling, so I said to her, "It's okay, Tara, you can answer her questions. It won't compromise our research." As I said this, I noticed that Nicole was still in the same spot she had been in since she had finished licking Tara to orgasm. While some of the juices on her face had started to dry, I could see that it was still quite wet.

Tara turned back to look at LA and answered her question. "Yes, I admit that I did get aroused as I was watching Nicole service you."

"And what aspect of it did you find arousing?" LA continued to press.

"Um," Tara hesitated, trying to gather her thoughts, "I guess it was the way you had total control over her, that she would do whatever you told her to do. That kind of power over another woman - I found that very hot."

"You certainly seemed to enjoy being in the receiving role with Nicole, but have you ever fantasized about being a submissive yourself?" With this, LA peered at me, and I saw Tara follow her gaze, to look at me as well. I was embarrassed by this reference, as if LA was confirming to Tara what she had done to me yesterday, without coming out and saying it. Tara looked at me quizzically, and I just looked down at my keyboard, and pretended to type more notes, so as not to engage with her.

"I. . .I. . .wha. . . .," Tara stumbled over her words. She paused a moment, to regain her composure. "I don't know ma'am," she continued, "I'd never really thought about it until I'd started these observations during this research project. I just don't know."

"Don't worry," LA chuckled, "I'm not going to force you into that. One of my rules as I don't force people to do things that they wouldn't otherwise be inclined to do." As she said this, she once more looked at me, and Tara again followed her gaze and locked her eyes on mine. I'm sure my face was beet red by this time, but I decided the best things to do was just keep my mouth shut and not participate in this conversation.

LA stood up. "I'll be right back, I'm sure we all need a little hydration by now," she said, "Why don't the three of you stay right where you are." With that, she turned and walked out of the room. I could hear her on the stairs heading back to the first floor.

The three of us did what she said, staying in our places. There was an awkward silence for about a minute. I broke it by smiling wanly and saying to Tara, "Are you okay?"

"Yes, thanks Susan, I am," she smiled back. "A little tired, and perhaps a bit surprised I should add," as she smiled more broadly.

"Well, this isn't exactly how I would have scripted things, but given what Lady Amber said to us, I think we had no choice but to go along," I responded to her. I heard LA's footsteps coming back downstairs, and a few seconds later she walked into the room carrying a large tray, still just as naked as she had left. On the tray there were a few glasses of wine, and a couple of pint bottles of water. She handed a water to Nicole and said, "Drink up, pet."

Nicole did as commanded, taking the water bottle that LA handed her, and began drinking. LA held the tray closer to where Tara was on the couch, and said to her, "Wine?"

Tara reached up, and took a glass of the white wine. "Thank you."

LA turned toward me. "And what about you, Professor, are you allowed to drink while you're on duty?" she asked with a wink.

I took a glass as well, and sipped it. "Thank you Lady Amber," I responded.

She helped herself to the last glass of wine, and put the tray on top of the dresser on the side of the room. She sat back down on the couch, and began sipping her glass as well. As I watched her, I was taken in again by her strength, and confidence. Her ability to sit there like that, stark naked, showing no concerns or cares with the three of us seeing her bare body. I never thought I could have that kind of confidence and strength, to dominate other women the way that she does - and she did to me yesterday.

LA, Tara, and I continued to sip our wine for the next few minutes while we all sat in silence. Nicole had put her water bottle on the carpet next to her, the bottle about half full. LA got up and put her glass back on the tray, most of the wine now gone from it. She walked over to Tara, retrieved her glass, and then did the same with mine, bringing the two to join hers on the tray. She walked back to where Nicole was still sitting and reached down and picked up her water bottle. Handing it to her, she said, "Drink the rest of it, slut, I don't want you getting dehydrated."

Nicole immediately complied, taking the bottle from LA and draining the rest of it as her domme stood above her. When it was empty, she handed the bottle back to LA, who patted her on the head. "Good girl."

LA walked over to the corner and threw the bottle into a trash can there. She then walked back toward me, and standing over my chair, said, "Your turn, Professor."

I looked up at her, surprised and shocked by what she said. "What do you mean?" I asked her.

"I mean, it's your turn to become a participant in your own research," she replied with a smile. "Now get up," she commanded, this time a little more sternly.




Sensitive Research Ch. 08



I didn't want to run the risk of antagonizing her, so I closed my laptop case, stood up, and put the computer on my chair.

"That's better," LA said, "now get over there and take her place."

I walked the few steps toward the sofa, and stood next to Tara. As I arrived there, Tara began to rise.

"No, not you," LA interrupted, speaking to Tara. "You stay where you are. Nicole, you get up and move over there," she commanded her, pointing to the other side of the room. As Nicole rose, the import of just what LA was doing struck me.

"No, I'm not doing th. . ." I began, but before I could get anything else out, LA turned toward me and hissed, "Shut up, you little bitch. You'll do what I say, or as I told you earlier, I'll close down your research project."

I started to protest, but caught myself. I just couldn't take a chance on letting her do that, so I resigned myself to doing what she wanted. I tried not to look at Tara, as I knew that was only going to make it harder for me. With everything that had gone on, I also knew that I had to trust her to not break the confidence of what we both had endured here in this house. 

"Now get your clothes off, all of them, and do it quickly," she told me.

I reached behind me, undid the hook on my dress, and lowered the zipper. I shrugged the dress off my shoulders, and let it drop to the floor. I slipped my bra straps off my shoulders, and rotated it 180 degrees so that the clasps were now in the front. I undid them, and my large breasts dropped free of their containment, flopping on my stomach. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see LA watching every move, and with Tara right in front of me, I could see she was doing the same. There was a mixture of curiosity and lust in her eyes.

I dropped the bra on top of my dress, and rolled my panties down my legs. I stepped out of them and took my shoes off. I picked up the whole pile and put it aside. My legs were shaking, nervous for what was about to happen. "Okay, kneel right there, " LA said, pointing to the spot where Nicole had been just moments before.

I did as she said, putting me at about eye level with Tara's breasts. As I looked at them, I could see that her nipples were no longer engorged, and the sweat that had covered her chest had dried.

As I knelt no more than two feet in front of my research assistant, LA bent down, put her face right in front of mine, and said in a soft but commanding voice, "You know what to do, you little slut, just like you did to me yesterday and Martha today." 

Her mentioning of these two incidents only served to embarrass me even further. I didn't want to look at Tara, knowing that she must be questioning what LA was talking about, so I decided my best course of action was to do what she had commanded. I leaned forward and stuck out my tongue toward Tara. I could immediately smell and taste her sodden pussy, confirming with two other senses the visual cues I had received as I had watched Nicole servicing her. Her body seemed tense as I first connected with her, but after a few moments she felt like she was relaxing, as she had when Nicole was licking her.

Knowing that I was doing the same to my own student and research assistant caused a large sense of debasement to wash over me. I shuddered at the thought of my own powerlessness as I submitted to what LA had commanded, and I knew that I was powerless to resist her. I continued to lick at Nicole, first tasting her labia, and then pushing my tongue into her pussy.

A minute or two later, I heard LA walking in the room. She paused, and then I heard her footsteps again. She was standing right behind me as I heard her voice say, "Up on your knees, pet." I complied, rising off my haunches so that I was now kneeling as I continued to lick Tara.

A moment later, I felt a sharp burst of pain and the sound of a slap as LA hit my ass with some implement. The force of her blow pushed my face hard into Tara's crotch, and I felt her trimmed pubic hairs scratching my face. My tongue was forced deep into her pussy, presenting me with even a stronger tangy taste. A gasp escaped my mouth, mostly muffled by Tara's pussy.

Three more times LA hit my ass, and three more times I felt the sting of what I now realized was a paddle. I was ashamed to feel myself getting even more turned on as she hit me, and I could feel my own juices begin to leak down my thighs. I prayed that Tara wouldn't notice it, but as I glanced up at her, I could see her eyes were closed and she appeared to be in her own state of reverie.

As I continued licking Tara, I felt LA's fingers reach underneath my paddled ass and begin to thrust into my own wet pussy. She started with one, then added another, and another, and a fourth, until my pussy felt incredibly full. I could feel my own orgasm approach as she continued to push in and out of me. 

I could feel Tara's juices leaking even more profusely, and I suspected that she was close to orgasm as well. I reached a little higher with my tongue, and began to flick it on her clit. This seemed to be what she needed as I soon felt her body begin to convulse, and a moan escaped her lips. I now took her clit between my lips and pulled it away from the hood and sucked hard on it. She reacted by turning her moan into a scream, and began bouncing up and down on the couch. Just as she seemed to hit her peak, I felt my own orgasm approaching from LA's fingers. I thought we were going to come together, but just as I was ready, LA withdrew her fingers. I felt a huge void and frustration at the orgasm that I so sorely needed being withheld from me.

I did what I could to stay in contact with Tara's clit as she came down from the huge orgasm that wracked her body. As I pulled back, I could see that once again her nipples were engorged and her breasts and belly were covered in sweat. Her chest rose and fell with her labored breathing as she recovered from the second huge orgasm in about half an hour.

"Not bad," I heard LA say from behind me, "you were well trained by Martha and me."

I was so ashamed at having debased myself in this fashion in front of my own research assistant. I didn't know how I was going to be able to face her, and carry on a normal relationship after what I just did to her, but I knew we were going to have to figure out a way to do so. I sat back on my haunches, and as I did, I felt the pain of LA's paddle as my ass cheeks touched my heels.

LA reached down, took my hand, and said to me, "Come with me, we have one more thing to do." I rose, having no idea what she was talking about. She started leading me away from the couch, and as she did, she turned to Tara and said, "I want you to stay here, but feel free to help yourself to more wine." As I walked, I could feel my juices leaking down my leg. I had been so close to cumming, and I still felt like I was on the verge.

LA was walking me toward a second door in the room, not the one that led upstairs. I had seen this door before, but had no idea what was behind it. As she got to her client, she took Nicole's hand in her other, so that she was leading the two of us with her. When she got to the door, she dropped my hand, and opened the door, turning on a light. She turned to the two of us and said, "Okay, in you go."

I walked into what was a large, tiled bathroom. There was an oval whirlpool bath, big enough for two people, as well as a glass-walled shower, which looked large enough for at least three people if not more. There was also a double vanity as well as a toilet behind a partition. I figured that LA was going to give Nicole and me a chance to get cleaned up, an act that I would very much appreciate since I still felt Tara's juices all over my face. I was sure that Nicole must feel the same way, having serviced both LA and Tara.

LA followed us into the bathroom while Nicole and I stood and waited. She pointed to the tub and said to me, "Go ahead and get in."

I hesitated, and said to her, "Aren't you going to run the water first?"

LA raised her hand, and slapped my left breast hard - hard enough to leave a faint red handprint. I gasped at the attack as she said, "Do I look like your fucking handmaid, you little bitch?"

"No, ma'am," I mumbled, "I'm sorry." I climbed into the tub and knelt there expectantly, waiting for her command.

"Lie on your back, with your head over there." She pointed toward the end away from where the faucet was. As I followed her direction, I felt the cold porcelain on my back, which made me shudder.

LA turned to Nicole and said, "Did you have enough to drink?"

"Yes, Mistress," she answered.

"Good, get in there." I didn't know what was going on, but I saw Nicole climb into the tub, and stand at the opposite end from where my head was, with her legs on either side of mine.

"Go ahead," LA said, and I was still confused as to what was going on. But then I looked up at Nicole, and I saw her reach down to her pussy, and using her fingers, spread her labia open. And then before I could react, I first saw and then felt a stream of hot piss flowing from her and right onto my own pussy. 

The shock of what she was doing caused me to jump a bit, and as I started to rise up, I heard LA say, "Stay there, slut, if you know what's good for you." I did as she said, lowering myself again, as I felt her client's warm, wet pee pelting my pussy and splashing onto my lower body. I could feel it pooling around my ass, and my sense of shame was profound. Here I was, a well-respected professor and researcher, and I was debasing myself by allowing this stranger to pee all over me.

As Nicole's stream continued, I felt a strange sensation beginning to creep over my body. The initial revulsion of being peed on was replaced by a growing arousal, and I realized that my body was being brought back to the precipice of the orgasm I had been denied before. Nicole shifted her pose a bit, and aimed her stream right at my clit. I was shocked at how long she was able to maintain such a strong stream, and as it hit my clit, it sent me over the edge. I felt a huge orgasm wrack my body, and I screamed, "Arrrggghhhh," as my body shook uncontrollably. As the convulsions ceased, so did Nicole's stream, and it eventually stopped. I looked down and saw myself covered in her piss, and I began to sob.

I felt LA's hands cradling my head and stroking my hair, and she said, "That's okay, my pet, let it out, I know you needed that." She continued stroking me as I sobbed on and on, the magnitude of everything that had occurred catching up to me. I saw Nicole step out of the tub, and into the shower. She turned on the water, and began to clean herself up. 

As I finally stopped sobbing, with LA still comforting me, she said, "Go ahead and join her, you need to get cleaned up too." I lifted myself out of the tub, letting the pee drip off of me, and I opened the now steamed-up shower door and stepped in with Nicole. I saw the shower was well appointed with soaps and a selection of shampoos and other hair products. I took advantage of what was there and soaped my body all over, doing my best to get the rank smell and feeling of Nicole's piss off of my body. I felt Nicole's hands on my back as she gently rubbed soap onto it, assisting me with washing her pee off of me.

A minute later, the door opened and I saw first Tara, and then LA come into the shower and join us. There was plenty of room for the four of us, and we all soaped up and even shampooed our hair. As I worked the shampoo into mine, I saw Tara lift her hands and begin to massage my scalp. She smiled at me, and I felt a smile cross my lips for the first time in a while. As she continued to massage the shampoo into my head, she leaned forward, and pressed her lips against mine. She gave me a gentle kiss, and much to my surprise, I found myself kissing her back. 

After I rinsed the shampoo out of my hair, I turned back toward Tara, and she put her arms around my neck and pulled me in for a hug. She held onto me for a good 15-20 seconds, as if to reassure not just me but herself that we were okay. She pulled back again, and leaned in for another kiss. This time I felt her tongue press against my lips, and I opened them to allow it to dance with my own. We kissed like this for another few seconds, before we pulled apart again. As we did, I saw both LA and Nicole smiling at us. LA leaned in and also gave me a kiss, but this one was just a gentle peck on the cheek. She didn't say a word.

The End