0 comments/ 125595 views/ 5 favorites Caren By: txbiker Written from the inspiration of experiences and friends, this fantasy is for reading pleasure and enlightenment. Any resemblace to actual persons or activities is coincidental. Caren's Journey She held her small fingers at the waistband of her soft jeans. They rode low on her slender hips, under the slight swell of her belly. Her breath came in short gasps from her excitement. Her nipples were stiff from the attention they had just recieved. Slowly, she unfastened the snap at her waist and let the zipper pull apart. The slight covering of fur above her kitty came into view. It was lighter than the copper red of her head, a small puff of color against her pale flesh. Her hands shook with trepidation as she prepared to give herself to the gentle man who sat in front of her. Caren's green eyes were reflections of her fear at the event that was soon to change her status from girl to woman. As she peeled the denim garment from her thighs the aroma of her aroused virgin sex permeated the air. She heard Lance sigh deeply as he took in the heavy musk. Gazing into his grey eyes, she saw the tenderness there. The longing to please her filled his facial expression and the way he approached her partially nude body. Caren though back to how she got where she was at this moment. He had written a story of how he had taken a sweet young girl's virginity. He had recalled the smalest details and delicate touches. She remembered how wet she got as she read how he tasted the girl's nectar and made her cream 'kissing on her kitty'. The flush that raced through her body as he described the glistening lips of her untouched vulva, wrapped around the swollen clitoris, made her skin moist. She wanted to feel what that girl felt. Caren wanted it to be her in that story. She did gather the courage to write him. She was blunt and brooked no chance of being misunderstood. "I'm a virgin, and I want you to fuck me." Her palms were wet as she typed the words, her fingers trembled as she struck the key to send the message. It was done! She waited for what seemed like a lifetime, before he wrote back. Many letters and descriptions, suggestions, and ideas passed between them, until finally they decided to meet 'in real'. Caren traveled to where he lived. He met her at the bus station on his gleaming black Harley-Davidson. She felt faint when she saw him standing next to the machine dressed in leather from head to foot, as he told her he would. She climbed on behind him and let him carry her away, knowing that he would soon be plunging his 'dragon' deep into her virgin kitty. Her arms wrapped around his waist, her hands fell to his crotch where she soon found the grown bulge of his `dragon'. He had told her it was eight inches long and now, she had the reality of it in her fingers. The stiff flesh was pulsing beneath her fingers. Her small hand did little to cover its length or girth. The throbbing machine added to the sensations she felt. Vibrations flowed through her body, and she felt her kitty growing wet. Caren's nipples were stiff and tender, too. She pulled closer to him and pressed her mound into his back. Caren cared little for where they went, only that her realisation of her deires be fulfilled. The small cabin in the woods was an unexpected surprise. They pulled up and parked under the forest shade. Lance shut off the bike and began to dismount. The leather he wore creaked when he moved, his heavy boots brushed Caren's thighs as he swung over her. In a daze, she watched as he opened the door and motioned for her to follow. Caren felt the weakness in her limbs as she moved toward the building. The room was sparsley furnished but comfortable. His back was to her while he built a fire in the stone hearth. Not so much for the cold, but the background. Lance turned to face her and began removing his jacket and shirt. Flung carelessly aside, his boots followed and he waited for Caren to follow his lead. She stared at him for a moment. His strong arms were covered in tattoos, a light fur coated his chest above the trim stomach. Caren removed her boots first, then slowly unbuttoned her jacket/shirt. The filmy halter-top she wore hid nothing of her charms. Medium sized, her B-cup breasts were firm with dark areola and very stiff nipples. She saw him smile at the exposed flesh, and rubbed them as if they were cold. Her face and neck were flushed, partly from excitement, partly from being unsure of herself in the company of this handsome older man. The rose tint flowed across her naked chest as she saw Lance unbuckle his belt. He was waiting for her. He moved towards her, and she began to loosen her pants. The soft flesh of her belly and the light red fur of her mound appeared. Her hands pushed the denim away, across her thighs and down her legs. She wore no panties and she was now totally naked in front of him. "Very pretty." Lance commented, softly. Caren blushed some more and half turned to show off her tight little butt as well. Then, she sat on the soft couch, holding her thighs up and together. Lance moved in front of her and stood quietly. He reached for her hands and placed them on his pants. She looked up in a question. He returned her look with another smile, then said, "Go ahead and unwrap your prize, Caren." She pulled the leather pants apart and down a little. The sparse hair near his penis caused questions to run through her mind. "Yes, Caren. I keep it shaved most of the time." He responded to her unasked question. Peeling the soft black fabric down, Caren gasped at her first sight of his massive shaft. "Ohmigod! It's huge!" "I didn't story. It's a full eight inches long, and almost two inches across." He laughed gently. "You can touch it, you know. After all, it will be inside you in a little while, if you haven't changed your mind." "Oh! NO! I ... I haven't! But I've never seen one this big, let alone touch one like it!" "Have you ever touched a boy, before?" He asked. "Y ..Yes. On dates and stuff. We get kissing hot, and they get all grabby, so I do them off with my hand. Sometimes I let them shoot their stuff in my mouth, too." "Has any body ever touched your kitty?" "Um ..Yeah. ... In gym, sometimes one of the other girls, but usually one of my boyfreinds, or myself." Caren blushed again. "Did you like it, when they touched you?" "It ... It made me all `butterfly' in my belly. I .. Yes, I liked it!" "Have you ever had anything inside your kitty?" "Well, .. uh .. you know .. my fingers and stuff." Her color was deepening as her revelations expanded his knowledge of her sex experience. "You never let any of your boys fill your kitty?" "N .. No. I .. I didn't want babies or anything like that. They never put it in my front hole." He made note of her reference to her front hole, then asked, "Take my leather all the way off?" As Caren pulled the snug garment down to his ankles, it placed her face straight even with the bouncing penis. She looked up to see the heavy sac hanging below the stiff rod. She grasped the throbbing flesh, gently, inspecting it's curve and all the veins and wrinkles. The loose foreskin fascinated her, and she bent closer to see it better. "You could kiss on it, if you would like." He suggested. "Do .. Do you want me to?" "I'd like nothing, better for a start." He answered. Caren moved her thin lips closer to the plum colored crown. Tentatively, she opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue. The first drops of clear pre-cum were drooling from the tiny slit. She tasted the salt and slickness of the fluid and spread it with the flat of her tongue. She admired the glistening helmet, then surrounded it with her mouth. He felt the warmth of her lips and the gentle scraping of her teeth on his sensitive flesh. Her mouth took him deep, deeper than he expected from this nineteen year old. She had most of his dragon in her throat when she gagged and had to pull off. "That's okay, it is pretty big." He spoke softly as she returned to her oral task. He felt the waves of release begin too quickly. He pulled her head away and picked her up. He sat her on the couch and gently spread her thighs. The slender labia parted in welcome, revealing deep rose colred skin beneath. She was soaking wet, her clitoris stood firm in its sheath. "Has any body ever kissed on you, down here?" "On... .Only a couple of times." She stammered. "Was it good?" "Um .. I guess so." "Let me try to make it better for you." He knelt between the creamy thighs and took in the strong aroma of her arousal. His first taste of a virgin slit in many years made his hands tremble. He thought back to the time he had taken his little sister's girlfriend to his bedroom and introduced her to the wonders of oral sex, just before her first experience of being filled with hard, hot penis. Caren squealed and groaned at the same time when his tongue flicked across her swollen clitoris. Her body was on fire as the rough tongue filled her vagina's opening and entered the hot flesh tunnel. The other times she had been `kissed on' were never like this. Her hips bucked and jerked as the first waves of orgasm flowed from her belly and washed through her whole body. "OH GOD!!!! .... I... I"MMMMM Cummminggggg!!!" she screamed. Writhing beneath the face of her `knight in black leather', Caren's body came off the couch as her peak reached its pinacle. She grabbed his head and pulled him tight to her hot mound as it started to spew girl-cum into his mouth. He drank greedily of the sweet nectar flowing from Caren's vagina. Lance held her thighs to keep her from falling to the floor, licking her slowly, until she started to calm. He kissed up on to her flat belly and moved across her breasts, then up to her face and kissed her hot. Caren tasted herself on his lips and hungrily lapped her own juices. She felt Lance pushing thick fingers into her vagina and curled her body to take them as deeply as she could. He found no resistance in the tight vaginal canal. Her `toys' must have taken her `cherry' a while ago. He pulled her close, then eased on to the floor, pulling Caren with him. She felt the hard shaft between their bodies, still wonderining if it would fit inside her tiny hole. "Are you sure you want this, Caren?" he asked. Between kisses and groans she replied, "Oh yes! More than anything, now." "Tell me what you want from me, Caren." "I ... I ...um ... want your thing inside me." She said with hesitation. He laughed softly, "It has a name, you know. It's not a `thing', it's a penis, cock, prick, it gets called lots of names and you can use them, if you want. "Um .. okay. I want your penis in me." "That's better. Where do you want it?" "Here!" she pointed at her swollen vulva. "I want it up inside my ....my ...uh..cunt!" She blurted out. "I want you to make me a woman. I want you to fuck me!" Her hot talk made Lance's cock jump and his palms sweat. He wanted to be the first to plunge deep into her tiny little body and fill her belly with cum. Done right, there is something special about being the gateway to sexual elightenment. Lance took his time to make sure it was good for her. With his fingers, he opened her vagina gently, causing her to moan softly. He worked the fingers around and in to spread her nectar over all of her labia, her clitoris and mound. Her light red fur was damp when he finished, her breath came as gasps and groans. "I think you're ready, now." "Ohgodyes! Put ..put it in me! OH PLEASE! ...FUCK ME, NOW!" Caren cried out in passion. "Lets take it slower, Caren. I'm going to let YOU put it in the first time. That way you can take as much as you want, as fast or slow as you want. Okay?" Lance held her waist and lifted her above his pulsing penis. "Take me in your hand, and put it at your entrance." Caren did as she was instructed. She felt the heat of his dragon searing the outer labia as she coated the crown with her lubricating fluids. "Whenever you are ready, slide yourself down. Fill your kitty with a hard cock for the first time!" He told her. Slowly, at first, she split her body opening with the large head. She felt great pressure at the small cleft of her body. Nothing she had ever put in there was that large, hot and pulsing. Caren could feel Lance's heartbeat as she lowered herself. "OHMIGODLANCE!! Its big! ... Oh,Yessss!" She cried out. Her thighs trembled as she tried to keep from falling completely on to the thick penis. Her vagina felt as if it were splitting in two. Lance held her waist to ease the weight from her quivering legs. Caren stopped with about two inches of Lance inside the entrance of her vagina. "Are you good?" He asked. "So much." She breathed. "Take it slow." Almost talking to herself, "Ahhhhh...yesss.... there, now." She lowered her tight sex even more. Lance was grinning, but holding back the urge to pull her all the way down. He didn't want to hurt her or make it uncomfortable. He controlled his desire and continued to let Caren set the pace. Caren's eyes closed as she continued her journey into womanhood, sighing deeply as the `dragon' disappeared into her `cave'. She put her hand where their bodies joined and was shocked to find that she only had half of him inside! She could still fit four fingers between them, alongside his cock. Suddenly, Lance saw her belly bulge and felt her vagina go loose. Her eyes closed tighter, and she dropped all the way down. "OOOFF!" She exhaled quickly. "OHHHMIGODDD!" she wailed the instant she impaled herself completely. Her body quivered and shook at the realisation of what she had just done. "OHHHH .... YESSSSSS.! Sooo fullll!" she moaned. "Feels sooooo goood!" She started to move, but Lance stopped her. "Rest for a minute. Let your body get used to it before you move, Caren." He felt her tight vaginal tunnel squeezing the length of his penis, her heart was beating fast, her face flushed and damp with sweat. He wouldn't last long, he knew, it was the hottest, tightest kitty he'd been in for a long time. Caren started to move her hips and he could feel her cervix bump the crown as she pushed against his belly. "MMM ... Oh yes! .. this is good." She cooed while her movements quickened. "Fill it up! Squirt your stuff in me! Make it cummmm!" Lance groaned at her words, and did just that. The fire rushed through his belly and shot from the head of his penis. He loaded Caren's tiny belly with jets of hot, thick cum. So much cum that it was pushing out around the tight seal of her vulva. Their bellies were soon coated with spunk and girl-cum, as Caren reached her second peak. "YESSSSS!! .. omigod hereitis .... cccc... ccuummmmiiinnnngggg!!" She shrieked. Her body stiffened and quaked with release. She lost her balance and fell to Lance's chest panting and moaning. "Oh ...OH .... Oh my! That was so hot! I could feel you shooting in me!" She finally gasped. They lay still for a while, then rolled apart. Her legs spread wide and Lance could see the mixture of their essence dripping from her red, swollen crack. Without a word, he moved his face to her tender vulva and began to lick her clean. The heavy musk of their combined fluids was a rush to his senses. He consumed all he could, then captured a mouthful to share with Caren in a hot kiss. At first, she hesitated. Then realising that HE had just kissed on her freshly fucked kitty, she pulled him closer and returned the hot kiss. She tasted herself as well as the strong salty flavor of Lance's cum. It was an interesting mix that she, too started to enjoy. "It's all part of the `sharing'." He explained. "There is more to sex than just `Stick it in, cum, and leave'." Caren hugged him tight, then spoke softly. "Thank you. That was everything I thought it shoul be, and more." "I'm happy that you approve, Caren." He replied with another kiss. "Can ... can you ... um.. Can you do it again?" She asked, looking at the still firm flesh between Lance's thighs. "Are you sure you want to?" Was his reply. Caren's Long Wee-end Caren Yeager swung her 1955 Mercedes-Benz 300SL off the San Diego freeway and expertly gunned it towards her on the city's outskirts. She ran a leather-gloved hand smoothly over the gleaming wooden steering wheel and thought how superbly the black leather looked on the wheel, as if it belonged. Had her car been a Bentley, or a Porsche, even, such gloves would have looked out of place – but in a $290,000 million "Gullwing" they looked perfect. She drew up at the inevitable red light at this time of the morning and glanced into her rear vision mirror. Her long, blonde hair was gleaming and slightly, but so very fashionably, dishevelled sinceshe had been driving in the warm Californian sun with the windows down. The Mercedes was equipped with what they laughingly called "aircon" in 1955. Totally useless, of course, in midsummer San Diego. Caren adjusted her Armani sunglasses, which fitted snugly on her fine features as she checked herself in the mirror. Also fitting snugly was her black leather jacket, with its low-slung cut which revealed her firm, bronzed cleavage, and her black leather jeans, which clung to her stunning ass and thighs like a second skin. Her footwear, stylish Manolo Blahniks were not practical for such a sporty machine as the 300SL – as a connoisseur of fine cars, Caren knew very well that Mercedes never called the car by its "Gullwing" nickname - and she had kicked them off. Caren would have loved to have completed her attire with a leather bra and g-string, but had decided instead to go with black sheer bra and briefs from Victoria's Secret. It was going to be a long day at the office, the leather underwear would have been a tad too warm, she thought. Just then, a large truck pulled up alongside her, the driver, a swarthy, oleaginous, gap-toothed Mexican leered down from on high and yelled: "Hey ladee, nice car. And great headlights!" Caren ignored him, but pulled her digital camera from the glovebox and pointed it directly at the name of the truck's owner, stencilled on the driver's door. She clicked the trigger and the driver scowled down at her. "Wassa matter, ladee?" he cried, "can't take a joke?" Caren ignored the slob and roared away from the green light, moving through the gears with practised ease as the Mercedes left the lumbering truck in its thoroughbred wake. Soon she pulled into her office grounds and parked the 300SL in the spot labelled "President: Caren Yeager. Keep Out!" She looked at the notice and mused: "I must get that changed to 'Execubitch' one day." Slipping on her high heels, Caren grabbed her brown leather attache case and swept into the single-storey building. Yeager Systems may only have been a single-storey building, but its appearance was deceptive, it housed 125 employees. From it the lissom 34-year-old controlled a computer empire which was the envy of many larger concerns. There were often rumours in the trade press that Bill Gates had made offers for Caren's business, which she had built from scratch in six years. But true to her motto "Never explain, never complain", Caren had refused any comment when the pedlars of such gossip called her for a statement. Nodding to the office receptionist, Caren entered her spacious office, unzipped her leather jacket to reveal the beautiful see-through satin bra, cupping her lovely firm breasts, and pressed a buzzer. Tanya, her secretary of five years, almost since the firm's founding, entered and stood obediently beside Caren's large desk. A busty dark-haired beauty of 26, Tanya had flashing brown eyes, short but well-shaped legs and a great ass. She was just what Caren wanted in a secretary – she was capable, efficient, trustworthy and, most important of all, submissive. Caren stood and pressed her lips against the younger woman's mouth. "My husband's away on a golfing week-end," she said, in a whisper – walls have ears. "You will spend the week-end with me, you slutbitch, I have plans for you," she added, pressing her bra-encased breasts against her secretary's virginal white blouse. "Wonderful," said the brunette, "I've already packed an overnight bag." Caren resumed her seat with a laugh. "Why did you do that, you lovely little subby? You won't be wearing any clothes – unless, that is, I decide to make you wear your punishment bra and panties." Tanya rubbed her thighs together in mock anguish. "Ooooh, mistress," she said, also being careful to pitch her voice low, "not the punishment panties, please!" Caren laughed again. "OK, Tanya, down to business. What's on the agenda?" And for the next five hours Caren was what her husband was fond of describing as "ass up, head down" as she made decisions on her computer empire. Finally, after a late and rushed lunch of smoked salmon sandwiches and Diet Coke, Caren announced to Tanya: "I can't wait any longer, bitch – I want you. Let's go, I'll get Anita to put all calls on hold until Monday. Come on." The lovely, long-legged blonde stood, zipped her jacket up to cover her beautifully built breasts and walked out of the office, with Tanya a dutiful pace and a half behind. "We're off for the week-end, Nita," Caren told the attractive front office receptionist. She also thought, "One day I must slap that bitch around in my dungeon", then dismissed the idea. The girl looked like a pouter, she hated pouters, she liked her sub slaves to be proud, even haughty, until she broke them. Luckily for Caren, Tanya adored being broken. As usual, Caren's sleek black Mercedes attracted many admiring glances as she transported Tanya in the short but hair-raising drive up to her magnificent La Jolla mansion, with its sweeping wide windows providing superb panoramic views out to the crashing blue Pacific. The automatic gate swung open, then closed behind them as Caren screeched the roadster to a halt outside the spacious home, which had set the computer millionairess back the best part of $18 million. "Must you always drive like Michael Schumacher?" Tanya asked, in a typically cheeky fashion. She'd been like that all day, deliberately and provocatively egging herself on to give Caren all the excuses in the world to give her a wonderful domming. Not that she needed, to, really, thought Caren, but if it amuses the little bitch. Tanya had rubbed her breasts against her boss at every opportunity she'd had; spilled some coffee on Caren's desk; even, at one stage, calling her "Execubitch". Caren knew what she was up to and loved it. Soon she would be extracting her erotic and strict revenge. "Darling, Mr Schumacher drives noisy, unreliable Ferraris," she smiled at her lovely assistant. "Please don't even mention those appalling little cars in the same breath as my 300SL." The pair entered the house, cool and deserted – the maid and chef had been given the day off by Caren as soon as she knew her husband would be playing hole after boring hole at some pricey Hawaiian golf course all week-end. Turning on her secretary, Caren pounced and gave her a quick, hissing kiss and then disengaged. "Now it's time for my fun," she told Tanya. "You've been a superbitch all day, now you're going to pay. When I come back to the kitchen I want you in the display position, only high heels on, nothing else, and holding your bowl. Understood?" Of course the little superslut did, Caren thought, as she walked into her spacious bedroom and pulled off her jacket, leather jeans and flung her panties and bra in a laundry basket. She removed her Cartier Santos 100 watch – she always wore that to work, the diamond-encrusted Rolex was for evenings and "dress up" occasions. Now, though, she would eschew a watch – time was irrelevant, all that was important was pleasure. Caren examined her reflection in a huge mirror in her massive walk-in wardrobe, which extended the length of the room. In it were extremely expensive evening gowns, power suits for those "executive" occasions. And one end was a rack of her fetish gear, much of it leather, PVC and latex, and much of it flown out to her from England by the popular but extremely high-class fetish house, Westward Bound. The stunningly-attractive blonde chose her first item – not clothing, jewellery. It had been made for her in Paris by a jeweller who had left Cartier, her favorite jewellery house, to set up his own esoteric, indeed erotic, range of products. Caren snapped the bracelet around her throat and looked at it in the mirror with a certain smug satisfaction. It was a broad gold band, but hanging from the front were 10 letters, made of exquisite gold, like the band. The letters spelled out E-x-e-c-u-b-i-t-c-h and the glittering item had cost her almost $25,000. It was, she decided, an expense well worth it. Next the long-legged beauty selected a shiny black leather, open-fronted bra. Truth be told her 36-inch D-cup breasts didn't really need a bra – they were strong, firm globes, but Caren loved the look the gleaming black straps around her breasts conferred on her. It spoke of domination, not submission, a certain "Don't fuck with me" look, she thought. And in her sex life, as in her business life, it paid not to "fuck" with Caren Yeager. She flicked through her fetish wardrobe and her eyes fell on a shiny pair of black leather chaps, with a starkly contrasting white leather belt threaded through loops at the waist. Caren pulled the chaps on and looked at how they hugged her hips and thighs, leaving her pussy naked, her buttocks bare. Caren liked the way the blackness of the garment almost pointed the way to her shaved minge, her labia lips pink and moist. On her feet, went a pair of black leather riding boots, with spurs at the heels which jangled delightfully when she walked – and when she dug them into Tanya's buttocks, if she decided to "ride" her. Next the 34-year-old chose a pair of shiny black leather gloves, which snapped buttoned at her wrists. The material was lustrous, its feel cool - but there was nothing cool about it for Tanya when it came into contact with the slutbitch's face. Caren selected a slim leather riding crop with a pretty little punishing flap at the tip and prepared to put the slutbitch out of her waiting misery. And that reminded Caren – she must not forget Tanya's gift. But before that, she picked up the crowning touch to her picture of feminine domination, her copyright item, her "signature" if you will – her silver-encrusted cigarette holder. It was almost a foot long, it was quite heavy and it added the perfect finish to her ensemble. Into it, Caren screwed a strong-smelling Gauloise cigarette – how the fuck the French smoked them was beyond her, but even such a rank-smelling cigarette brought a lust to her for a smoke. In fact, she had given up the habit six years ago, and being a woman of immense inner strength hadn't lit one up since. But the Gauloise in the holder was an essential part of her apparel – Tanya hated the smell of them, a fact that made them perfect for Caren's purposes. Stepping back into her bedroom, Caren went to her dressing table, swept a brush 20 times through her glorious blonde mane, then opened a drawer and removed an item from it. Made of cheap, thin gold chain it was a thinner band than the one glistening at the throat of the computer millionairess. Hanging from the band were nine dull coloured letters, made of some cheap metal and in complete contrast to the gold-plate. The letters spelled out the word "Slutbitch". Caren had had it made up by a cheap little jeweller in a sleazy part of London's Soho the last time she was in the English capital. It had cost her, in the words of the oily little man who ran it up for her, "free quid, ducks". It was, therefore, just perfect for her awaiting slutbitch. Caren slipped it into the lower front hem of her open-breasted bra. The way it hung, Tanya would have no idea what it was, the letters were all jumbled up. Caren glanced at the clock on her bedside table and was surprised to find she had been more than a quarter of an hour getting ready. Well, she thoroughly enjoyed the ritual of preparing for a domme session with Tanya, and it was always good to keep a slave waiting. Now, her pussy tingling with anticipation, her nipples erect in similar expectancy, Caren walked back towards the kitchen, her jingle jangle of spurs a give away for the waiting Tanya. In the kitchen she found her slave waiting, obedient as ever – all pretence of cheek now vanished – in the "display position". Tanya was nude, as instructed, save for her black, high heeled stilettos. Her big breasts were full and firm, her shaved pussy inviting for Caren's inspection, so wide spread were the woman's feet. Above her head, her arms sticking straight up and held in her hands was a large white ceramic bowl emblazoned with bright red lettering reading "Slutbitch". Tanya's nudity displayed the fact that the busty creature had to wear a bikini whenever she sunbathed in the strong Californian sun by her apartment's rooftop swimming pool. The heavy breasts had white patches that showed plainly where her bikini bra had been in place, and at her crotch there was a similar white spread of flesh. Above her buttocks was a small little triangle of white flesh, denoting that her bikini bottom was thong-style. Caren, whose entire body was a temple of praise to nude sunbathing, always liked to belittle Tanya's suntan. "Oh, I see we're wearing our white bikini today, are we, slutbitch?" she grinned, walking around her slave on her parade of inspection, waving her cigarette holder with its pungent-smelling Gauloise in the woman's face. "Yes, mistress," murmured her slave, voice now respectful, obedient. Caren traced the tip of her crop along Tanya's lush labia. "You look fucking pathetic, with those white streaks, slutbitch," said Caren, settling smoothly into her haughty verbal domination of her secretary. "Yes, mistress," said Tanya, her voice low, throbbing with her anticipation. Suddenly, Caren made her move – she lowered the tip of the crop to the level of Tanya's knees and flashed it up against the poor victim's pudenda. The 26-year-old let out a little sound which sounded, to Caren's ears, like a pathetic "Eeek!" "In fact," said Caren, walking around her slave and tracing the crop across her buttocks, "you look so fucking pathetic, I think I'll let you put on something to cover those disgusting white streaks. Something like the red leather bikini, perhaps?" Tanya's body gave a shiver, a shudder - it was, of course, all part of the routine. "Oh no, mistress, please, not the leather bikini," the brunette pleaded. Caren slashed the crop against the beautifully presented bum and stepped in front of Tanya again. "Yes, mistress, yes, the fucking leather bikini," Caren said, in a parody of Tanya's plea. "But first, I need to piss. Bowl in place, quick." Tanya immediately snapped into action, falling to her knees on the beautifully clean Italian-tiled floor and carefully placed her bowl beneath Caren's lovely minge. The millionairess ran her fingers through her lips, parted them slightly then grunted and released a powerful stream of dark yellow urine. Only the depth of the bowl prevented some of the piss splashing out onto the slave girl's face. Still Caren pissed, until finally a 45-second flood of urine had sprayed from her to the bowl below. "Clean me, slutbitch," snapped the lovely blonde, and Tanya placed the bowl beside her on the floor, being careful not to spill a drop – not the easiest thing to do as it was almost full to overflowing. Caren then felt the loving caress of her slutbitch's tongue on her pussy for the first time that day. Tanya had an experienced mouth, of course, she had been serving her mistress for a year or two, now, but what Caren liked the most about the secretary's oral adoration was her tongue. Tanya had a tongue made for cunnilingus – or analingus, for that matter. It was long, it was smooth and it was hot, always hot for the taste of her mistress's pussy. Only right now, it had but one task and that was not to bring Caren to sexual fulfilment, but to clean any traces of residual urine from her pussy. That task completed, Tanya placed her hands behind her back on the floor and looked imploringly and devotedly up at her mistress. "Now fetch me the bikini – but first, put the bowl in the refrigerator," Caren snapped and Tanya leapt to obey. As the secretary entered the vast lounge looking out to the dazzling blue of the Pacific, Caren followed her. The kitchen was no place for the next phase of her pussy-tingling punishment session, the lounge was fine – her dungeon in the basement would have been perfect, but Caren was in no hurry to get there, Saturday and Sunday lay waiting for those thrills. From a drawer in the sumptuous lounge, Tanya removed a red leather bra and red leather briefs, which she brought to Caren and presented, the items lying in her palms-upwards hands as she pushed her arms out straight towards her domina in supplication. Caren took the garments and pressed a lingering kiss against the pretty woman's mouth. "Just the right sort of apparel for a warm Friday afternoon, eh, my dear little slutbitch?" she asked. "Yes, mistress, thank-you, mistress," said Tanya, who then raised arms as if in surrender – which, in fact, it was – and Caren started to fit the brassiere on her slave. The bra – which Caren laughingly referred to as "a booby trap" – was made of extremely expensive, soft and supple red leather. Inside, the cups were lined with hundreds upon hundreds of little prickles, which would press irritatingly into the wearer's busty globes. This was not an item specialised in by Westward Bound – Caren had had to visit an exclusive leather shop in San Francisco to get the item ordered and it had taken a lengthy session of measurements with Tanya in attendance, to get the perfect fit for her breasts, pussy and buttocks. It hadn't been a cheap exercise, but when it came to finding punishment gear for her slave, thought Caren, I don't stint. Unless it's on "Slutbitch" bracelets, that is, she thought with a smile. Caren hooked the bra onto Tanya's full breasts, clipped it firmly into place on her strong back, then returned to face her slave. Then Caren added a little more torment for the poor woman. Set in each cup of the bra, was a thread of thin leather, hidden in a groove going all around the cup. The groove opened at the uppermost part of each breast. Tying the ends of each strand of leather tightly served to tighten the cup around each globe even further. Her task done, Caren ran a hand in a firm caress over the slave's left breast. Tanya winced. Next it was time to get the briefs on. This was Tanya's task, Caren decided. Let the little bitch assist in providing her own punishment. The slavegirl pulled the panties up until they snuggled around her pudenda and backside. As with the bra, the briefs were prickly-lined. Caren had debated providing them with a dildo and an anal intruder, but decided against it – she far preferred to be able to see such objects entering her slutbitch's orifices. Caren then set about adding the final touch to the panty-punishment. This consisted of tightening the belt at the garment's waist, then pulling two cords tight at the rear of the briefs, which in turn tightened the leather against the wearer's belly, pussy and buttock cheeks. As she stepped in front of her slave, Caren ran a hand across the lush, leather-covered left buttock. Pressing her mouth against Tanya's, the domina whispered: "And now I have a final little prezzie for you, my sweet little slutbitch. I hope you are suitably grateful." And from her bra, Caren pulled the shoddy little "Slutbitch" bracelet, held it out for Tanya to read the message dangling from the cheap gold link, then put it around her neck. Caren's Long Wee-end "Oh, thank-you mistress, thank-you, you are far too kind," said Tanya, in a fawning tone which was even too much for Caren. "Oh, for fuck's sake, Tanya, it's just a trinket for you to remember your place, it's not Cartier for crying out loud," she said, all the time fingering her truly expensive "Execubitch" bracelet. "In fact," said Caren, her voice now assuming a sterner tone, "I think you're taking the piss out of me. And you know what happens when I think that, don't you, slutbitch?" Tanya knew very well indeed and began to back away from her menacingly advancing mistress. Caren moved inexorably closer and closer to Tanya until the brunette was backed up against the wall, her prickle-lined briefs doing devilish work on her buttocks as she pressed against the wall. Caren stopped about a yard in front of her victim and snapped: "Hands onto your breasts, stroke 'em, now!" Tanya raised her hands slowly to her leather-encased boobs and began to run them over her globes, increasing the anguish already being imparted by the inner lining of the leather cups. Caren hooked her riding crop into the right side of her chaps, held her cigarette holder in a haughty pose in her left hand and lifted her right hand, the leather glove gleaming only a foot from Tanya's right cheek. "What are you, darling – what are you?" demanded the lissom blonde, in a piercingly quiet but menacing voice. "I'm your slutbitch, mistress," said Tanya, in a quavering voice. "Slut," snapped Caren, her gloved hand slapping into Tanya's cheek as she said it, the blow flicking the woman's face across to her left. Caren moved her glove off to Tanya's left and as she slapped her slave with the glove in a stinging forehand she snapped "Bitch". Then the backhand on her right cheek. "Slut." Forehand on left cheek. "Bitch." Another backhand. "Slut." A final forehand. "Bitch." Caren stopped, breathing a little more heavily. This was one of the supreme moments of domming the little sub bitch, the face slapping. It wasn't teeth-rattling, it merely reddened the secretary's cheeks, but Caren felt such a frisson of power run through her at these moments that she almost came on the spot – or that was how she felt; that moment, of course, would have to wait for the slutbitch's oral obeisance. But now it was time to move on. "Kitchen," she snapped, "pour my piss into a champagne bottle, you know where it is. Then a tray, two flutes and a bottle of Krug in my ante-chamber – and hurry, slutbitch!" Caren walked into the smaller bedroom beside her much larger, more sumptuous room. She pulled off her boots – a task which possibly should have been done by Tanya, she mused – and lay back on the Napoleonic-style bed, a sort of couche-de-sexe, still in her chaps and bra. She knew what the slutbitch would be doing. First she would find a bottle of long-emptied champagne in a plastic bucket in a cupboard in the kitchen. She would then place a plastic funnel in the top of the bubbly bottle, pour the contents of her slut bowl into the bottle, place it on a large silver tray, accompanied with two champagne flutes – one made from the finest Waterford crystal, the other from nasty clear plastic. Finally, Tanya would place an ice bucket with a lot of ice cubes in it on the tray, put a bottle of Krug Blanc de Blancs Clos du Mesnil in the bucket and carry it into Caren's ante-chamber. The load may be heavy, but Tanya was a strong young lady. Caren refrained from the temptation of running her fingers along her boiling sex trench. This was a job for Tanya, and not for her fingers, but her mouth and tongue. At last Caren heard the clip-clop of Tanya's high heels as she neared the room and entered, bearing her load. The red bra and briefs gleamed on her fine, full figure. Carefully Tanya deposited the tray on a low table beside the couchette, and then removed the foil from the Krug, eased out the cork and poured her mistress a full flute of the French champagne. Next, she poured a glass of urine from the other bottle into the chipped, cheap and nasty plastic flute. The bottle which contained Caren's urine amused the wealthy dominatrix – Korbel, cheap, nasty, Californian plonk. Such a lovely contrast from the noble Krug, she decided. Tanya rose and passed the Krug in its elegant crystal flute to her mistress, then picked up her nasty little plastic thing. Caren smiled at the young submissive, standing so obediently by the bed and lifted her glass in salutation. "Here's to friendship," she laughed and sipped on her Krug. Tanya whispered "To friendship, mistress" and sipped on her drink, then grimaced as the bitter liquid went down her throat. The bitch boss licked her lips almost lasciviously. "Shit, I love Krug," she said, relishing the words. "Some people swear by Dom Perignon, others by Louis Roederer Cristal, but give me good old Krug, any day. Oh, by the way, how's your wine, darling?" Caren had now dropped "slutbitch", she was in a now teasing frame of mind, her face slapping had moved her onto the "loving" phase of their scenario. Tanya looked at her boss and smiled, albeit a little wanly. "It's lovely, Caren," she said, playing along with Caren after the signal of being addressed as "darling". "Oh that's good," smiled the wealthy woman, "because I had it specially bottled for you, which is a real honour, believe you me. I doubt very much whether the Henri, Remi and Olivier – the brothers Krug? - did as much for me with this lovely Blanc de Blancs." And although she was on first-name terms with the Krug brothers, Caren was pretty sure that they would not bottle a special champagne, even for her. She then Caren pressed the flute to her lips and this time took a deeper draught, a signal, of course, to her slave to follow suit. Tanya blinked her eyes shut and winced as the strong urine flowed into her. Seeing that her boss's glass was nearly empty, Tanya re-poured the Krug, almost bringing the biscuity bubbles to the rim of the flute. To match her mistress, she also topped up her own "beverage". "Enough of this teasing," smiled Caren, staring her secretary directly in the eye. "It's time we had some fun." And with that, the 34-year-old drained her flute in one long swallow. Tanya, of course, was forced to do the same. Caren placed the glass on her bedside table, indicated to Tanya to arrange the plumped up pillows behind her head and shoulders, parted her thighs wide, and said softly: "Please me, darling – and slowly, I'm in no hurry." The punishment-attired brunette climbed onto the couchette and placed a fervent kiss of submission on each inner side of her domina's thighs, inhaling as she did the wonderfully musky, earthy but intoxicating pussy perfume which issued from Caren's smoothly-shaven sex. The rich bitch sighed with pleasure as she felt Tanya's lips brush lightly, then more and more firmly against her labia lips in oral adoration, then as her tongue flicked out and pressed gently into her gushing-wet vagina. After this attention to her sex, Caren shifted her buttocks up slightly, a signal for the ever-attentive Tanya to transfer her attentions to her employers rosebud anus, pert, dark brown and with hints of inner pink. Tanya's educated tongue worked its way into the outer anal lips and pressed up slightly, sending thrills of excitement and domination through her boss's beautiful body. After a minute or so in that lovely inner sanctum, Tanya pulled away, traced up to her boss's cunt, then drove between her labia lips and fastened on her engorged clitoris. A "Yeeees" sound escaped in a hiss from Caren's mouth as her slutbitch – or now, more correctly, her love slave – found the tempting target and began to lick, suck and kiss fervently on its rigidity. Caren's hands came down and gripped the working girl's head, one hand still clasping the elegant trademark cigarette holder. Caren forgot all about her "slowly, no hurry" instruction. She had spent much of the day dreaming about how Tanya was going to drive her wild with her long, lashing tongue and now the moment had arrived, Caren flung all control to the wind. "Yes, you've got it, don't stop, darling, don't stop, go all the fucking way – go, go, go!" she roared and within seconds her orgasm was smashing and bashing at her pussy, sending her into a thrusting, graunching, grinding display of fevered orgasm. To obtain some control, the 26-year-old was forced to put her hands under her employer's buttocks and hang on desperately as the receiver of her oral caresses bellowed to her climax with a long, drawn-out but exultant "Fuuuuuuck!" Tanya lay still, occasionally kissing her mistress's minge, her breasts still mashed uncomfortably down on the hard mattress, the prickles sending little jabs of pain and pleasure through her boobs. And she realised she was happy. Finally, Caren pushed her employee away, looked down at her sex-smeared face and smiled. "Time for another Krug, I think, my dear. Oh, and please help yourself to another flute of my fine wine. I know you like it so." "Boss," said Tanya, as she set about pouring the drinks, "you are so kind." I know, thought Caren, accepting her flute of Krug, I know. To be continued...