4 comments/ 130578 views/ 15 favorites Becky's Instruction By: Christina Samuels The following is a collaborative effort between me and (our star) Becky, with a smattering of creative input from my insatiable coworker, Rachel. And yes, like all my stories that have cum before, the following account of an evening when Becky got exactly what she had asked for; is true. We hope you enjoy it. Twilight had fallen when Becky turned into the driveway of the converted carriage house. Her palms were sweating, and her heart was pounding. There was still time to back out. She knew that. Intellectually speaking. In fact, if her sensible side could somehow manage to win out, that's exactly what she would do. But too much was at stake, and had been from the moment she'd received the cryptic email offering to fulfill her little-shared fantasy. She screwed her courage, opened the car door and stepped out. * * * * * A gust of cold, December air caressed Becky's stocking clad legs and crept under her very-short navy skirt and chilled her naked pussy. Another gust brought her thick nipples to full attention, causing them to press almost painfully against her white silk blouse. Before yet another gust could strike, she hurried across the cobblestones to the dimly lit front door. Her breasts bounced wildly, and her stiletto heels threw an extra shimmy to her walk. She stepped onto the porch and reached for the ancient, iron knocker. Unexpectedly, the door swung open. "Rebecca Chase?" The woman who answered looked to be around thirty. She was a little taller than Becky, with dark, piercing eyes, and long black hair. "Yes. Mistress Deanna?" Becky replied. Deanna smiled, and raised an eyebrow. "Open your blouse." she said. "Pardon?!" "Don't make me tell you twice." Deanna's tone was soft and soothing, yet threatening. Not wishing to anger, Becky hurriedly undid the buttons and allowed her more-than-ample breasts to tumble free. "Now remove it." As if her free will had suddenly been taken from her, Becky did as instructed. She then stood perfectly still, naked from the waist up, as Mistress Deanna gave her a visual inspection. "Turn around." The cold, wintery air stung Becky's breasts and thick middle. Slowly, she turned, until she was facing the street. "Stop!" Deanna commanded. A minute. Two. Three, passed. Becky shivered in the icy cold air. Another minute. Two. A car drove slowly down the street. Becky's heart pounded with fear. "You may put your blouse back on, little one." Deanna said, "Then cum inside." Becky watched the taillights disappear around the corner, then slowly put her blouse back on and fastened the buttons. Her fingers (and other parts) were freezing. A sense of embarrassment/ disbelief washed over her. Had she actually, without question, taken her blouse off at the behest of a total stranger? While standing outside? In the wintertime? Where anyone could see? "Hurry up, little one!" Another gust of cold air snuck under Becky's skirt and cooled her extremely hot pussy. She quickly tucked in her blouse, and turned. Deanna was nowhere in sight. "Mistress?" she said almost at a whisper. "Don't keep me waiting, little one." Becky stepped inside and closed the heavy oak door behind her. The sound of a crackling fire caught her attention. "In here little one." Becky turned to her left and entered the dimly lit room. At the far end, Deanna stood near the fireplace warming her hands. For the first time, Becky was able to study her Mistress. As noted earlier, she was a little taller than Becky, with dark, piercing eyes, and long black hair. Moving on, her breasts appeared to be somewhat smallish. A deception, perhaps, as the white man's shirt she wore did little to emphasize them. Her waist and hips were trim, and set off nicely by her short, though not too short, black, leather skirt. Her legs were long, and accentuated by her navy pumps. "Little one." Deanna began, "Your mere presence here tells me you are accepting of the terms I set down. Your eagerness to flaunt your boobies as you did tells me the straight-laced persona you present is a lie." "Mistress, I was not eager to flaunt my . . . boobies. I . . ." "Silence little one! I did not ask you to speak!" "I'm sorry Mistress, but I . . ." "Take off your skirt! Masturbate for me!" Becky panicked, stunned by the command. "Do it! Now! Do it, or get in your car and leave! You told anyone who would listen that you wanted to see what it would be like to submit to the whims of another woman for a time, so do it!" Becky slowly reached for the zipper and began to ease it down. "A true slave would never speak without permission," Deanna lectured, "nor would she attempt to contradict her mistress for fear of the punishment to cum. Since tonight is but a game you wanted to play, I will not exact what you would otherwise have coming; but if you fail to 'follow the rules' one more time, the game is over. Understand; little one?" "Yes Mistress." "Good. Now take off your skirt and masturbate for me! But just before you're ready to cum, stop!" Becky quickly finished removing her skirt, then used her tongue to liberally coat the fingers of her right hand. She closed her eyes tightly, and with her left hand, began rubbing her breasts through the silk of her blouse. As she did, she could feel Deanna's scrutinizing stare. Not wishing to disappoint, she dipped her lubricated fingers inside her aching dryness and began to stroke, and pleasure herself. "Faster!" Deanna commanded, "Frig that clit of yours! Make it beg for mercy!" "Yes Mistress." "Faster! Faster!" "Yes . . . yes Mistress." Obediently, Becky set a very frantic pace. To her surprise, it wasn't long before she could feel her climax nearing. Her throaty moans gave her away. "Are you nearing the edge, little one?" "Yes Mistress. I am." "Then stop!" As if an invisible pair of powerful hands yanked hers away, Becky abruptly removed her pleasure-giving touch. Slowly, she forced her eyes open. "Very good little one. Now cum here." Her head swimming, Becky stepped out of her skirt and walked over to Deanna. She stood as demurely as she could with her legs together. Deanna reached down and caressed Becky's nicely-shaved pubes. The touch gave Becky a start. "Widen your stance. I want to see how wet you are in there." A moment's hesitation by Becky. "Little one?" Becky's face, then shoulders, breasts and so forth flushed with embarrassment. She looked away, then shifted her weight from side to side until her feet were about eighteen inches apart. Deanna's touch entered and explored, then departed. Becky continued to look away. The exaggerated sound of Deanna licking the sweet taste from her fingers caught Becky's attention. She wanted to focus on her Mistress and relish the sight, but couldn't find the courage to do so. "Unbutton your blouse." Deanna whispered. Without hesitation, Becky did as instructed. When the last button came undone, Deanna's feminine touch drifted over Becky's breasts, exposing them fully, and sending their silk cover to the floor. Deanna smiled, then moved to the near corner of the room and pulled a satin bed sheet from a cheval mirror. "Cum here, little one." Naked, save her stockings and heels, Becky walked over to her Mistress and stood in front of the mirror. "Tell me what you see." Deanna said softly. Becky stared at her nude self: unsure how to reply. She thought for a long while, then decided to convey her true feelings about herself. "Mistress," she began, "I see a woman that is nearing fifty-five years of age. She is five foot six inches tall. Her hair is blonde. Curly. Much longer than she would like, but not as long as her lover wants. Her weight . . . is one hundred eighty-five pounds." "Go on." "Her; boobies; are rather large, and only droop a little. Her areolas are a nice shade of pale pink, somewhat over-sized, and her nipples . . ." Becky stared at her very stiff buds, ". . . are obscenely long and thick." "Do you know what I see?" Deanna asked. "No Mistress." "I see a woman whose body is mine to command. A woman whose need for orgasm is great. A woman, who will do anything I ask to achieve it. Do you agree?" "Yes Mistress." Deanna left Becky to contemplate the reflection before her, walked over to an overstuffed chair that was near the fire and sat down,. "I understand that the first time you had anal sex, a woman gave you the enemas to; get you ready. Is that true?" Deanna said. "Yes Mistress, it is." "I also understand that she was very gentle about it." "Yes Mistress, she was." "Cum over here and kneel on the coffee table." Sensing what was about to happen, Becky slowly walked over and complied. "Now lean forward until your left cheek is resting on the table." Becky drew a deep breath, then got into position. "Very good, little one." Deanna got up from her chair and left the room. A moment later she returned. "How many syringes did she have you take?" "Two, Mistress. One mineral-oil, and one saline." "Tonight, you will take three of the former, and as before, one of the later. Are you ready?" "Mistress, I . . ." "Yes little one?" "Mistress? You will be gentle?" "No little one. I will not." Deanna opened a tube of k-y warming gel and coated Becky's tight, little butt-hole. She then removed the orange cap from the first syringe and eased the tip inside Becky's rectum. With steady pressure, she sent every last drop of mineral-oil deep into Becky's inner reaches. "Ready for the next one?" "Mistress?!" "Yes little one?" "The next one? But I haven't . . ." "Expelled the first? Of course not! The idea is to stretch your limits; not coddle you." "Yes Mistress." Deanna, removed the tip from the second, and administered it. The third followed in short order. "Comfortable, little one?" "No Mistress. It hurts. The pressure is . . ." her voice trailed off. "Oh, little one, I'm so sorry to hear that." Deanna said mockingly, as she lightly stroked Becky's exposed pussy. "Mistress? How long am I expected to hold it?" Becky asked. "As long as it pleases me." The first tormenting cramp wracked Becky's bowels and caused her to whimper in pain. "Little one." Deanna scolded, "You disappoint me! Such a shameful attempt to play my sympathies! It will cost you! But not just yet." Deanna returned to her chair and sat down. Another tormenting cramp elicited another whimper of pain. "Please, Mistress. May I relieve myself? It hurts! Please?!" "Little one, little one. You may not! What you may do, is masturbate until you cum. Then, and only then you may relieve yourself." Becky fought through another tormenting cramp, then began to masturbate at the same, furious rate as before. Her fingers thrust rapidly in and out of her pussy. She pinched, rolled and stroked her clit. Another cramp to fight through. More rapid-fire finger thrusts. It was maddening! Every single time she neared the edge, another torturous cramp would deny her. "Please Mistress. I . . . I can't make myself cum! Please?!" "Little one, you're simply not trying." "Yes Mistress, I am. Please?" "Keep going. Until you cum." Becky picked up her pace even more. Her frustration grew and grew. The more she tried to focus on the sensations swirling in her pussy, the more elusive they became. "Please Mistress. Please?!" "Little one, little one . . ." Deanna paused, then laughed to herself as a plan to exploit Becky's need came to mind. "If; and I do mean IF, I grant you permission, what will you offer in return?" "Anything!" Becky almost screamed, fighting through another cramp. "Anything, little one?" "Yes Mistress. Anything!" Deanna smiled a wicked smile. "Masturbate some more." "Yes, Mistress." Becky's voice was filled with desperation. Tears of vexation streamed down her face. Her fingers trembled as she stroked, pinched, rubbed, rolled her clit. Even more so as she diverted them to her inner walls for a fast-paced finger-fuck. "Please Mistress. I . . . I can't cum!" "Little one. You're simply not trying hard enough." "But I am! I . . . I just can't do it." The urge to relieve was overwhelming Becky's senses. So much so that she could think of little else. "Please Mistress!" "If I grant permission you will do anything I ask?" Deanna confirmed. "Yes Mistress! Anything!" "Very well then. Permission granted." Becky scrambled from the table. Deanna slowly rose from her chair, then ushered Becky down the hall to the bathroom. "Thank you Mistress. Thank you!" Deanna pulled the door partly closed, and waited. When Becky was finished, Deanna lead her back to the living room and had her assume the same position. "Ready, little one?" "Yes Mistress." she said, her tone conveying her willingness to please. Deanna smiled, then removed the cap from the saline syringe and inserted the tip deep inside Becky's rectum. One, forceful squeeze sent the liquid deep inside. "Stand up, little one." Becky did as instructed. "Have you ever worn weighted nipple clamps, little one?" "No Mistress, I haven't. Only the regular kind." "Well, you are about to." Deanna opened a small white box that had been laying next to her chair and took out the clamps: devilish contrivances, linked together by a fine silver chain, with an innocent-looking pendant centered between, and dangling. Carefully, she squeezed open the padded jaws of the first and put it in place around Becky's right. A few turns of the setscrew applied the desired pressure. "Too tight, little one?" "No Mistress." The process repeated, entrapping Becky's left. Playfully, Deanna poked Becky's breasts, causing them to sway slightly, setting the little six-ounce pendulum in motion. The sensation was like none Becky had experienced before. The seemingly random pulls on her nipples was . . . erotic. "How about a clit clip, little one?" "No Mistress. Never." Deanna picked up the box once more and took out a silver waist chain with clit-clip attached, and draped it around Becky's hips. She squatted so that she was eye-level with Becky's pussy. "Hold your labia open for me." Awash in embarrassment/ humiliation/ excitement, Becky reached down and held herself open, as Deanna skillfully positioned the clip in place. "Go look in the mirror, little one." Becky did as instructed. As she walked – her butt cheeks clenched – the pendulum baited her nipples with every step. "Do you like what you see, little one?" "Yes Mistress, I do." "Would you be willing to wear your new jewelry on a regular basis, little one?" Becky stared at her reflection. "Well, little one?" "Yes Mistress; I would." "On a daily basis?" "I . . . I . . ." Becky's voice quivered, "No Mistress. I wouldn't." Deanna stepped behind Becky, reached around and cupped Becky's breasts, moving them side to side, causing the weight to move in small circles. "Why not?" she asked, with unmistakable amusement in her voice, "Are you afraid someone might discover your dark desires?" Becky stared at the reflection of her swaying breasts: at the female touch guiding them ever so gently. "Yes Mistress." she said softly. Deanna laughed, then raked her beautifully manicured fingernails across Becky's breasts. For no particular reason, she delivered a stinging slap to Becky's well-filled rump. "Now return to the table and resume the position." Confusion filled Becky's mind. The times she had relinquished her free will in favor of Sam's insatiable desires had not prepared her for this. Though she knew in her heart she could refuse any command without fear of retribution, her incredible desire to explore this forbidden side of her sexuality was stronger than she could have ever imagined. ". . . left cheek against the table, little one." Deanna sat down in the overstuffed chair, seductively crossed, then re-crossed her legs, helping her skirt to ride up, exposing the tops of her stockings. "Tell me a story little one. About the first time you gave your current lover a blow job." "Sam and I had been dating a short time." Becky began, "We were . . ." A demanding cramp wracked her bowels. "We were in his bedroom. About to make love. He had just coated my pussy with k-y jelly. His touch was so gentle. I wanted him inside me so badly . . . " Another cramp. "Please Mistress. I . . ." "Continue the story." "I rested my head on his thigh and began playing with his cock. It was bigger than any I had ever seen. Bigger than the only cock I had ever seen . . . I opened my mouth and lowered myself down as slowly as I could, trying not to gag. It took a while, but I eventually managed . . ." Another cramp. "Please Mistress!" "The story?" "Once I got used to his size, I started bobbing up and down. Before long, I could feel his cock begin to spasm." "Did you swallow his cum?" "Yes Mistress. I did." Another wracking cramp. "Please Mistress. Please!" Deanna re-crossed her legs once again and stared intently into Becky's pleading eyes. "Very well, little one. Although your telling was . . . lacking, you have my permission." Becky scrambled from the table and almost ran to the bathroom; her high heels making a rhythmic sound on the hardwood floors. When she returned, Deanna was waiting with a ping pong paddle in hand. "Little one? Do you recall my saying that your shameful attempt to play my sympathies by whimpering as you did would cost you?" "Yes Mistress, I recall." "Stand in front of the mirror with your feet shoulder width apart." Without hesitation, Becky did as her Mistress bade. "Now lace your fingers and put your hands behind your head." Once more she complied. Deanna moved behind, reached around, and lightly raked Becky's breasts. "In a moment, I will deliver five licks to each of your butt cheeks, little one. For every sound you make, I will add another lick. Do you understand?" "Yes Mistress." Deanna stepped back and delivered the first stinging blow to Becky's right cheek. The "smack" resounded. Becky raised on her toes, but somehow managed to quell her desire to cry out. "Smack! Smack!" The next two swats came in rapid succession. Each lifted Becky onto her toes. Each sent the torturous pendulum swinging. Tears of pain stained Becky's cheeks, but clenched teeth held back all sounds of distress. "Smack! "Smack!" "Very good little one! You took that well! Are you ready for the rest?" Becky drew a long, deep breath. "Yes Mistress." "Smack! Smack!" The first two swats to her unsuspecting left came in rapid succession, and caught Becky completely off guard. She yelped as each was delivered. "Little one. Were those cries of pain I heard?" "Yes Mistress." Becky said at a whisper. "Smack! "Smack!" The next to swats, like the rest, lifted Becky onto her toes and sent the pendulum swaying in wide circles. "SMACK!!!" Somehow, Becky managed to stifle her desire to cry out. "Now bend over, little one." Slowly, Becky did as instructed, and Deanna delivered the last two blows squarely on her unprotected butt hole. They stung unmercifully, setting Becky's entire rear on fire. She had not felt so vulnerable in, she couldn't remember how long. For the first time that evening, she feared what might cum next. "You may straighten, little one. Then, if you wish, admire the lovely shades of red I imparted." Becky straightened, then twisted to gain a view of her savaged backside. As the warmth told her, both cheeks were a brilliant shade of red. Almost fearfully, she reached back and touched the hot flesh. "Cum with me, little one." Like a curious child, Becky reached back for another, tentative touch. "Little one?" She snapped back to the moment, and quickly followed Deanna into a spacious bedroom that showcased a large canopy bed. At the foot: a blanket chest, with a large dildo (and equally large butt plug) laying upon it. Becky's Instruction Ch. 02 The following is a sequel to "Becky's Instruction". Like the former, it is a collaborative effort between me, Becky, and Rachel. Is it completely true as well? I wish I could say, but neither Becky nor Deanna are willing to tell. What I can say, however, is that regardless of where truth leaves off and fantasy begins, Becky's adventure sure was a wild one! * * * * * * * * * * The elevator arrived at the thirty-second floor of the ultra-modern skyscraper. The doors opened, and Becky stepped out. She drew a deep breath, then searched her purse for the old-fashion-style calling card (Mistress) Deanna had sent her. She took it out, and searched the fine calligraphy. "Apartment thirty-two eleven." she read aloud. Like the first time; the only other time, she had given herself over to her Mistress, her palms were sweating and her heart was pounding. But unlike the first time, the thought of backing out was far from her mind. She turned the card over and continued to read aloud: "You are expected to arrive at precisely seven PM." A quick glance at her watch told her she was right on time. Filled with anticipation, she started down the hall. At the end, she stopped short, straightened her skirt, and opened all but the last button on her blouse. She adjusted it, so that her black, low-cut, lace push-up bra was fully visible; placing her more-than-ample breasts on center stage. With a touch of trepidation, she reached out and pressed the buzzer. A moment later, the door opened. "Hello, little one." Deanna said, "Won't you cum in?" Becky's eyes widened at the sight of her Mistress dressed in a red satin, halter-top baby doll; with matching ankle-wrap high heeled sandals. "Do you like what you see?" Deanna asked. "Yes Mistress. Very much." Deanna ushered Becky inside and closed and locked the door. "Little one," she began, "the last time we were together, you were reluctant to follow many of my commands without mulling them over first." "Mistress? Let me explain." "Silence little one!" Deanna snapped, "We are no longer playing by your rules! We're playing by mine! Understand?!" "Yes Mistress." The sudden rush of warmth deep in her pussy made Becky's heart begin to race. "This time, failure to carry out my orders immediately, without question, will result in swift, exacting punishment. Understood?!" "Yes Mistress." "Good. Now take off your blouse and your skirt!" Becky quickly complied. She stood for inspection. Deanna circled her. "Sexy bra . . . thong panties . . . garter belt . . . stockings . . . stilettos. Very nice. You followed my instructions well." "Thank you Mistress. I . . ." A sharp slap to Becky's rounded rear made her jump. She fought back the urge to squeal at the stinging aftermath. "Did I ask you to speak?!" "No, Mistress." Another sharp slap. Becky winced, but did not utter a sound. Deanna smiled, a smug little smile, then moved to the couch and sat down. "Little one," she said, picking up her lap desk, wireless keyboard and mouse. "I have a surprise for you. Face the monitor." Without hesitation, Becky did as she'd been told. Deanna began to type. A few more keystrokes later, the web cam came to life. "Open your bra and take it off." Becky's obedience was immediate. Deanna took hold of the mouse and used it to focus the camera in on Becky's breasts. "Click . . . whir . . . click . . . whir . . .click." One by one, the still photos of Becky's enviable endowment appeared on the screen. "Push your panties down." A momentary balk. "Little one!" Becky slid her panties down to the tops of her stockings. "Whir." The camera focused in on her pussy. "Click . . . whir . . . click." Becky stared at the screen: fascinated, humiliated, enthralled by the pornographic pictures of her womanly; parts. "Turn around! Bend over! Spread your cheeks!" "Click . . . whir . . . click . . . whir . . .click . . . whir . . . click." The now-familiar sound of the camera's focus told Becky that her puckered bung had be-cum the center of attention. She could only imagine how explicit the images were. "Now spread your pussy lips." Another momentary balk. "Do it!" Her hands trembling, Becky exposed her clit and vaginal opening to the camera's view. "Click . . . whir . . . click . . . whir . . .click." More typing. Becky held her pose. "Turn around! Panties up! Bra back on!" Becky coaxed her thong back in place, then turned to face the screen. The display had changed to that of a chat screen. Becky hurriedly fastened her bra. Two windows popped-up. In one, an elegantly dressed woman who appeared to be in her early forties was leaning back in a leather desk chair scrutinizing; something, before her. In the other, a slightly older woman wearing a paint splattered sweatshirt and torn jeans was sitting in a wicker swing-chair doing the same. "Little one," Deanna said, "FYI, the reason my two friends are studying their screens so intently, is because I sent them copies of the pix I just took of your; privates." Becky could feel her face flush. She turned to confront her Mistress. "Face the web-cam!" Each word fell harshly. Becky immediately complied. "Little one, I told you before, punishment for disobedience would be swift. Unless you wish to masturbate for them, I suggest that you do exactly as you are told. Nothing more. Nothing less. Understood?" "Yes Mistress." "When you called and said that you wanted to further explore your; submissive, side, I decided to enlist the help of my friends Maria and Gina. Each are . . . how should I say . . . well versed, in all things sexual. Both on the giving and receiving end." The woman in the paint-spattered sweatshirt began to type. A chat window opened up. "Read it aloud." Deanna instructed. "Gina: Hey Deanna! You weren't kidding when you said she had a great set of boobs! And her pussy is even nicer than you let on." The elegantly dressed woman began to type. "Maria: Don't you mean 'tits' and 'cunt'? Sluts like her don't have 'boobs' or a 'pussy'!" Becky winced. The words stung even more than the spanks she'd received earlier. "Gina: Boobs . . . tits . . . pussy . . . cunt. Who gives a fuck what you call them?! Her's are ripe for sucking and fucking!" It was Deanna's turn to type. "Deanna: Now that we have that settled, can we agree that her ass isn't too bad either?" Gina and Maria began to type simultaneously. "Maria: I'll go along with that. "Gina: Yeah. Me too. "Maria: I'll bet her boyfriend loves fucking it! "Gina: I know I sure would!" Becky was growing more uncomfortable by the moment. The red light on the web cam told her it was still on. Logic told her that if she could see Maria and Gina, they could see her. Her thick waist. Not so slender hips. Everything her sheer bra and panties did little to obscure. "Deanna: Time for some brain-storming. First up, her hooters. "Gina: Hooters? "Maria: Weighted nipple clamps! "Deanna: Been there, done that. "Gina: Clothes pins? "Deanna: Too S&M." A momentary lull. "Maria: Clover clamps! Make her not-so-little nips scream for mercy! "Deanna: Prefect! Now for her . . . twat. "Gina: I haven't heard that word in ages! "Maria: Give it the full-blown veggie treatment! Start with a carrot, move on to a banana, then a cucumber, and finish her off with an eggplant! "Deanna: I'd have to go shopping first. "Maria: You don't keep those 'necessities' on hand? "Deanna: Not all of them. "Gina: Make her fuck it with that big, black dildo of yours. The one that's a foot long and big around as my fist?" The image that flashed in Becky's mind terrified her. "Deanna: If I did that, Sam's ten inch 'throbbing python of love' would never be enough to satisfy her again. "Maria: His what? "Deanna: Never mind. Let's think about this for a while, and move on to her ass. Suggestions? "Gina: Fill it with anal beads! You do have some of those, don't you? "Maria: Fig it! While she has a big old vibrator -- switched on high -- shoved deep in her cunt! "Gina: Screw the vibrator! While she has another finger jammed up her 'twat'! "Deanna: Perfect!" Tears began to well in Becky's eyes. "Maria: Look at her face! The idea scares her to death! "Gina: I'd be sacred too if it were me! A double figging? What could be worse?!" "Well, little one?" Deanna asked, "Is Maria right? Are you scared to death?" "Yes mistress. A little." Maria continued to type. Becky read aloud. "Maria: What did she say?! "Deanna: She wanted to know if you'd cum over so she could eat your pussy to show her appreciation for your suggestion. "Maria: I'd love to, but I've got a board meeting in ten minutes." Becky could no longer fight back the tears. "Gina: Look how disappointed she is! Maria, you're the chairman of the board, cancel the fucking meeting! How often do you get a chance like this? "Maria: Not often enough. What the hell! Tell her I'll be right over!" "Please mistress." Becky whispered, "I . . ." Deanna began to type. Becky read aloud. "Deanna: And let you cut into my time? No fucking way in hell! "Gina: Didn't your mother ever teach you to share? "Deanna: Nope! "Maria: Selfish bitch! "Deanna: Damn straight!" Becky's head was swimming. Though she had never performed oral sex on another woman, the idea of being made to do so was not totally unappealing. In fact . . . "Deanna: Let's see . . . boobies . . . slit . . . anal opening. I think we have all bases covered. Any more suggestions? "Gina: I still think you should let Maria cum over so Becky could eat her pussy. Think of the ratings if you did it as a web-cast! "Maria: I always wanted to be a porn star. "Deanna: Maybe next time. "Maria: I'd love to stay and chat some more, but my assistant just walked in. Enjoy your figging, little one." Maria logged off. "Gina: It's times like these I wish Boston wasn't so far from New York. What I wouldn't give to personally supervise your figging, little one. To watch the slut in you beg for more. Have fun!" Gina logged off as well. Deanna closed out of the program. "Masturbate for me!" she commanded. Becky slid down her panties, then raised her fingers to her mouth to wet them. "No! Dry." Thoughts of what was to cum were pushed from Becky's mind, as memories of the last time her ex-husband had fucked her came rushing back. The humiliation she'd felt when he forced her over the arm of the couch (while three of his buddies watched), pulled down her shorts and savagely entered her unprepared pussy. The pain of his thick cock raking her 'dry' inner walls. "Do it little one, or I'll do it for you!" With fingers quivering, Becky began to masturbate. Gently. Slowly. "Like you mean it!" Deanna snapped, "Or are you asking for me to masturbate you myself?!" "No Mistress. Please Mistress. It's just . . . It hurts when I'm dry." "You should have thought of that when I told you to take your panties down, and spread your pussy lips." "Mistress?" "Earlier? Before I introduced you to Maria and Gina? It took you an eternity! Now start masturbating! Or I swear I'll do it for you!" Becky closed her eyes and tried not to focus on the pain as she furiously stroked her aching clit. "Faster! Faster!" Like a gift from heaven, her juices began to flow, and the pain began to give way to pleasure. "Cum on little one. Faster! Frig your dear pussy. Make it cum. Make it cum!" Becky's fingers were a blur. With each stroke she moved closer and closer to the edge. Her throaty moans told she was getting close. Deanna waited . . . Waited . . . "Stop!" It was a command Becky wanted desperately to ignore, but did not. "No!" she cried in frustration. "So close, but yet so far, little one?" Deanna said with a wicked grin. "Please mistress? Let me finish? Let me cum?" "Are you begging, little one?!" "No mistress." "A good thing." Deanna said, "Now. A question. Have you ever been subjected to a figging?" "No Mistress. At least I don't think so." Deanna almost burst into laughter. "Then you have no idea what Maria and Gina were talking about?" "No Mistress, I don't." Deanna picked up the keyboard and logged onto the internet. A few keystrokes later, she was at the site she desired. "Read, little one." "Figging is the act of inserting a finger of fresh, skinless ginger into the anus or vagina. It is a practice that dates from Victorian times, when it was used as a means of disciplining wayward women. When the anus is the target of stimulation, the finger is carved into the shape of a butt plug. When the vagina is the orifice of choice, the finger is carved into the shape of a canoe. "The effect, simply stated, is caused as the ginger oils are released, and absorbed by the sensitive flesh. Though the rate of progression varies from 'recipient' to 'recipient', it begins as a gradual warming that becomes more and more intense, especially if the 'recipient' squeezes down around the finger . . ." "When applied to the clitoris," Deanna interrupted, picking up where Becky had left off, "the effect is more of an intense burning. It is achieved by carving a long wedge from the center of the root, then scooping out a small depression that is then placed over the clitoris." Deanna logged off and shut down the computer. As she did, the doorbell rang. "Another surprise, little one. Answer it. But first, pull up your thong and take off your bra." As if in a trance, Becky did as she was told. Naked, for all practical purposes, she walked to the door and reached for the knob. Fearing (or perhaps it was wishing), to find Maria standing on the other side, she turned it. Her pulse began to pound. She pulled the door open. Awaiting her was a very young and hauntingly beautiful woman with piercing blue eyes, and long, light brown hair. Becky couldn't help but stare at the exotic miss. Her flawless features. Her curious outfit: pale pink surgical scrubs, white, high heeled pumps. The nondescript backpack she had slung over one shoulder. "Hello, little one." the young woman said with a wry smile that put Becky quite ill at ease. "Hello." "Aren't you going to invite me in?" Becky could feel her face begin to flush. "Yes. Of course. Won't you cum in?" The young woman brushed passed. Becky closed and locked the door, then followed her into the living room. "Little one," Deanna said, "I'd like you to meet Gina's daughter, Miranda." "A pleasure to meet you." Becky said. "For me too." Miranda said, raising an eyebrow as she raped Becky with her eyes. The moment was awkward: for Becky. Deanna made it even more so. "Help Miranda get undressed, little one." she said. The command took Becky aback. "Little one?" Deanna said, her tone firm. Miranda tossed her backpack aside, stepped in front of Becky and stared intently into her eyes. "Little one!" Deanna snapped. With trembling hands, Becky reached out and took hold of the hem of Miranda's top. Her arms became weak. Slowly, she eased it upward. Inch by inch, Miranda's athletic contours came into view. Becky's pussy began to grow warm. Warmer still as the curve of Miranda's large, firm young breasts began to show. Even warmer when the cool air worked its magic on Miranda's tiny, ruddy areolas. "Finish the job, little one." Deanna said softly. Becky lifted the now-bunched top up and over Miranda's head, then off. "Touch her breasts, little one." Deanna said. Miranda tossed back her hair and smiled. "Go on, little one. Feel me up. Make my nipples even harder." Becky hesitated. Miranda reached out and gently mauled Becky's breasts. "Feel me up, little one." she whispered, her fingertips drifting away, "Return the favor." Miranda's soft, feminine touch somehow emboldened Becky. Like a brazen schoolboy, she ran her hands over Miranda's breasts. Caressing. Exploring. The flesh was warm and inviting. She traced the crowns of her areolas. Again. And again. She moved downward: to the underside. "Kiss her nipples." Deanna said. Becky froze; then leaned forward and did as instructed. Not passionately, more like a mother kissing her child. "Very good, little one," Deanna said, "now take off her bottoms." Allowing her fingertips to drag, Becky removed her touch from Miranda's breasts and tugged open the tie that snugged the waist band. Miranda smiled her curious smile. "They won't reach the floor on their own, little one." she said. "Yes mistress." Becky said softly. Miranda's smile broadened. "Deanna." she said, "Did you here what your sultry slut called me?" The word 'slut' echoed in Becky's ears. An icy chill swept over her: paralyzing. "I did." Deanna's tone barely hid her amusement. Miranda held Becky's gaze. "You didn't go and spoil my fun? Tell her why I'm here? Tell her what I'm going to do to her? Did you?" She said. "And spoil my fun too?" Deanna said, "I think not." Becky's legs grew weak. This was something she had not bargained for. It was one thing to give herself over to a woman only slightly younger than she, but quite another to surrender her will to one who was more than young enough to be her daughter. But . . . Deanna leaned back and seductively crossed her left knee over right. "Little one?" she said, "As you may have gathered by now, Miranda is here to further your; instruction. Although I'm not sure why, she intends to go easy on you. Provided, of course, that you obey her every command; immediately, without question, or hesitation. Understood?" "Yes mistress." Miranda's half-smile returned. "Slide your hands inside my bottoms." she said, "Place your palms on my butt-cheeks." Becky did as she was told. The bottoms fell to the floor. "Squat, so that you are eye-level with my pussy." Again, Becky did as she was told. "Run your hands down my legs. Feel every muscle. Every tendon. But don't take your eyes off my pussy." Becky stared at Miranda's closely cropped pubes and thick, protruding pussy lips. Slowly, she moved her hands over Miranda's lithe, powerful legs. For reasons she could not explain, images of the actress Lynda Carter in her role of 'Wonder Woman' flashed in her mind. The Amazon lore. The idea of being made to fulfill the every desire of the mythical character. To fulfill the every desire of; Miranda. "Stand up, little one." Miranda said "Arms at your sides." Miranda picked up her backpack and took out a pair of clover-style nipple clamps that were linked by a fine silver chain. Without warning, she began to pinch and stretch Becky's right nipple. Roughly. Squeals of pain escaped Becky's lips. "Quiet, little one." Miranda said, "Or I'll give you something to whimper about." "Yes Mistress." Miranda fixed the first clamp in place, then repeated the process. Lightly, she ran her finger along the length of the chain, making the clamps bite in. Becky drew a quick breath, trying desperately not to cry out. "It never ceases to amaze me," Miranda began, "just how easy it is to get these tormentors to do their job. Wouldn't you agree, little one?" "Yes Mistress." "Keep that in mind." Miranda turned her attention to Deanna. "I'd say it's time we introduced our little one to the world of figging. Wouldn't you agree?" Deanna uncrossed her legs and rose to her feet. "Most definitely." Becky's heart began to race. "Little one." Miranda said, "While Deanna gets the ginger, I want you to cum with me." "Yes Mistress." Miranda opened the door to Deanna's spacious bedroom and ushered Becky inside. "Take off your garter belt and panties." she said. Becky quickly complied. Miranda smiled, then fixed her gaze on Becky's cleanly shaved pubes and pussy. "Does Sam find it more pleasurable going down on you without all those nasty pubic hairs getting in the way?" she asked. Becky's Instruction Ch. 02 "Yes Mistress, he does." "When he fucks you, face to face, do you like the way it feels when his hairy mound grinds against your naked one?" "I do." "Sluts usually do." The 'S' word stung. "Have you ever let him shave your cunt?" Miranda continued. The 'C' word stung even more. "Well?!" Miranda persisted. "No Mistress, I haven't." "You must try it some time." "Yes Mistress." Miranda smiled her now trade mark half smile. "Okay, little one; on the bed. Face down." With a bit of hesitance, Becky crawled onto the bed and stretched out. "Now raise your hips." Once more Becky complied. "A bit higher" Becky's bridged her hips, as Miranda picked up a pillow and slid it underneath. "Arms up. Reach for the headboard." More compliance. With skill and ease, Miranda took a pair of silk scarves and tied Becky's wrists to the center spindle of the brass headboard. "Spread your legs as far as you can." Slowly, Becky worked her legs as far apart as she could. Miranda sat down on the edge of the bed and began to stroke Becky's vulnerable pussy. Becky tried to pull away, but couldn't. "Is this the first time another woman has played with your pussy, little one?" "Yes . . . Mistress. It is." "Does it make you uncomfortable?" "Yes Mistress." "A shame. Had you said 'no', I would have treated you to a finger fuck." Miranda slid her middle finger inside Becky's very moist pussy, then withdrew it. "You lying little slut! You're dripping! You're loving this! You'd give anything to have me finger fuck you! Wouldn't you?!" Becky's mind was spinning. Part of her wanted to scream 'YES'! Part to beg 'no'. It became a moot point when Deanna walked in carrying a small glass bowl containing the prepared fingers of ginger. "She does have a pretty pussy, doesn't she?" Deanna said. Miranda withdrew her touch and turned her attention to Deanna. "Yes she does. Almost as pretty as her tight asshole." "Speaking of which." Deanna said. Miranda took the bowl and set it on the bed next to her. "You did let it ferment. Didn't you?" "Five days, just as you suggested." "In an airtight container?" "In an airtight container." "Excellent!" Miranda donned a pair of latex gloves and removed the butt-plug-shaped finger of ginger from the bowl. Slowly, she inserted it into Becky's rectum. "Comfortable, little one?" "Yes mistress. For the moment." Deanna sat down in an ancient-looking rocking chair and seductively crossed her legs. "Little one." she began, "When I agreed to let you further explore your submissive side, I told you it would be on my terms, and that you would be expected to obey my every command, without hesitation. Repeatedly, you have kept me waiting, and made me repeat myself more times than I care to remember." "Mistress, I . . ." "Silence, little one! For your impertinence, you will receive ten spanks. Five to each cheek." Miranda's hand came down hard on Becky's unprepared right cheek. The stinging blow caused her to yelp in pain. "Ready for number two?" Miranda asked. Becky clenched her butt cheeks in anticipation. She waited. And waited. The ginger's effect began to take hold. She relaxed her cheeks. "Smack!" Another yelp. The heat continued to build. "Number three?" Once more, Becky clenched her butt cheeks. The burning sensation intensified. She relaxed. "Smack!" Another yelp. "Number four?" Becky resisted the urge to brace. "Smack!" "OW!!!" "Number five?" Involuntarily, Becky clenched down in anticipation. A very sharp burning caused her to relax. "Smack!" "PLEASE MISTRESS!!!!!" The heat grew immeasurably. Becky began to wriggle and writhe uncontrollably. "Smack!" "Smack!" "Smack!" Her asshole felt as though it were on fire. Both cheeks ached. "Smack!" "Please Mistress! No more! Please! No. No!" "Smack!" Becky pulled against her bounds. Bucked. Squirmed. "Now for that sweet pussy of hers." Deanna said. Becky drew a shaky breath. Whimpering. Moaning. Miranda took a second, wedge-shaped finger of ginger from the bowl, then spread Becky's labia. Carefully, she placed the scooped side over Becky's clit and nestled it in place. As planned, her inner lips closed around its narrowed end, holding it in place. "No! Please!" As with the finger that filled her butt so completely, the sensation built slowly. Beginning as a cool, chilling of her inner walls, the ginger's oils began to seep in, steadily building to a strong, demanding ache. "Please Mistress! Take them out!" Becky begged. Deanna looked at the clock on her bedside table. Almost fifteen minutes had passed since the first finger had been slipped inside Becky's now-aching asshole. "Not just yet, little one." Becky continued to writhe in a mixture of pleasure and pain. Unnoticed by her, Miranda moved from the bed. "Oh god Mistress! Please! Oh god! Please Mistress! Let me masturbate! Finger-fuck me! Let me cum! Please!" The burning in Becky's rear began to subside. Her need to orgasm was another story. "Untie her hands." Miranda said. Deanna got up from her chair and set Becky free. Miranda removed the sizable, spent finger from Becky's ass, but left the small wedge in place. "Please Mistress." she begged, "Take the other one out? Then let me masturbate? Please?" Miranda ignored her pleas. "You have a choice, little one." she said, "You can either eat my pussy, and Deanna's as well, then let the two of us masturbate you; or, you can let me fuck your pussy doggie-style with a strap-on. It's up to you." Becky's need for orgasm was great. Her ability to think clearly: almost nonexistent. She struggled to choose. The fantasy of performing oral sex on Maria was one thing; but the reality of going down on Miranda and Deanna, was quite another. As was the idea of giving them carte blanche in awarding her orgasm. "Do you want us to decide for you, little one?" Miranda asked. "No Mistress." "Then which?" "The strap-on." Becky heard herself say. Miranda smiled that half smile, then took a black, bikini-style harness from her backpack and fitted it with a purple, textured dildo that looked like a thick candle with trails of melted wax running down. Becky stared at the sizable 'cock' with it's slightly bulbous head and upswept shaft. Watched, with an odd fascination as Miranda fastened it in place. "Get into position, little one." Becky moved onto her hands and knees, and opened herself . Miranda removed the tiny fire stick from Becky's pussy, then took off her gloves. She knelt behind Becky, reached under, and took hold of the silver chain linking the clover clamps. Yanked down hard. The pain caused Becky to yelp in pain. "Are you ready for me to fuck you?" "Yes Mistress. Please." Miranda placed the head of her 'cock' against Becky's dripping slit, and pressed home hard and fast. The dildo stretched Becky far more than she'd anticipated. "Oh god!" "Yes my little slut?" Miranda said, "Did you want to tell me something? How much your tight cunt likes my hard cock?" "Yes Mistress." Becky whispered. Miranda drew her hips back, then forcefully slammed home. Again. And again. A tease, more than anything else. "Oh please." Becky more moaned than said. "You seem a bit, frustrated." Miranda taunted, "Would you rather I fuck you like a cur would fuck a bitch in heat?" Becky could not bring herself to answer. "You are a bitch in heat? Aren't you, little one? A fuck hungry cunt?" The words stung and angered Becky. "Yes Mistress!" she screamed, "I'm a bitch in heat.! A fuck hungry cunt! Fuck me! Oh god! Fuck me with your fake cock!" It was all Deanna could do to contain herself. Miranda slammed home eight, nine, ten times; then leaned forward until her breasts were pressed against Becky's back. She reached her arms under and pulled Becky to her. "Ask me to make love to you." she whispered. The moment had be-cum surreal. The only thing Becky knew for certain, was that she needed to cum, and that the need was desperate. "Please Mistress." she sobbed, "Make love to me? Use your beautiful cock to make love to me? Please?" The moment had be-cum surreal for Miranda too. She thought back to the night her sorority sisters had initiated her into their ranks by means of a double figging. How shamelessly she'd masturbated her fellow pledge when ordered to do so. How loudly she'd screamed when it was her turn to cum. Miranda returned to her role of Mistress. "Drop down onto your elbows little one. Rest your cheek on the bed." It was a position Becky knew well. One where she was able to enjoy every delicious inch of her lover, Sam's long, thick cock. One where intense orgasm was her ultimate reward. Miranda straightened, and grasped Becky's thick waist. She eased all but the tip of the dildo from Becky's pussy, then slammed it home: setting a steady, fast pace. "Oh god! Yes. Yes! Yes!!!!" Becky screamed, "Oh fuck! Yes!" One . . . Two . . . Three . . . Four . . . Five strokes was all it took to put Becky crashing over the edge. Screaming. * * * * * * * * * * When Becky awoke, neither Miranda nor Deanna where anywhere to be seen. She stretched, then sat -- most uncomfortably -- on the edge of the bed. Her nipples were still locked in the throbbing embrace of the clover clamps. Her butt cheeks ached. As did her 'back door'. Her pussy was only slightly sore, with the dried cum that covered her thighs and stocking tops serving as a dim reminder of how it got that way. On somewhat wobbly legs, she got up and went into the living room. "Hello, Becky." Deanna said. The room was dimly lit. Deanna was sitting alone on the couch, watching a vintage x-rated movie of a middle-aged couple locked in a sensual 69. Becky walked over and sat down next to her. Unsure exactly how to work the release, she tried unsuccessfully to remove the clover clamps. "Let me." Deanna said. Becky allowed, and leaned back as Deanna opened the devious devices. "Thanks." "Any time." Deanna placed the clamps in Becky's outreached hand, then picked up the remote and switched off the movie. "So." she began, "Do you think you have enough information to finish your dissertation?" Becky glanced down at the sizable wet spot showing through Deanna's sheer panties. She couldn't help but wonder wether it was the performance on the small screen, or her own that had put it there. "More than enough." she said. "Too bad. I was looking forward to helping you with some more; research." "I can imagine." "Speaking of which; your research, that is," Deanna said, "Miranda asked me to give you this before she left. She wanted to give it to you herself, but she has class tomorrow morning, and couldn't hang around any longer." Deanna handed Becky a small white box, held closed by a bright red ribbon. Becky accepted the gift, then carefully slid the ribbon out of the way. Filled with childlike anticipation, she lifted the lid. Inside, she found a note, and a three inch by one inch, remote-controlled vibrating egg. She took out the note and read: 'The next time you and Sam go to dinner at a fancy restaurant, slip the egg in your pussy, and give your lover the remote. Understood? Little one? Affectionately. Your Mistress II, Miranda.' "Going to do it?" Deanna asked. "I have to." Becky said, mimicking Miranda's half-smile, "My Mistress commands it . . ." Becky's Instruction "Simply because it will amuse me," Deanna said, "I want you to impale your beautiful ass upon the 'phallic imposter', doing so in one, swift motion." "Mistress?!" Deanna ignored Becky's protest, picked up the magenta dildo and began to coat its slightly rounded head with some more of the k-y warming gel. Becky stared at it, trying to imagine how she would ever be able to take it in 'one swift motion'. By her estimation, the slightly rippled shaft was a good ten inches long, with a diameter of about two inches. The head, though undoubtedly designed to ease penetration, widened out just before it made the transition to the shaft, and would definitely stretch her to the limits. "Okay, little one. Take it in one swift motion." Deanna set the hefty toy on the edge of the blanket chest. The dildo's weighted base kept it upright, with its shimmering head pointed toward the heavens. "Mistress, I don't think I can." "Not only can you, but you will." Deanna said, her tone forceful, "Did you forget your earlier promise to do whatever I asked?" "No, Mistress." "Then do it. Now!" Nervously, Becky positioned her still-glowing butt over the waiting phallus. Slowly, cautiously she lowered herself down until the head pressed against her opening. "I'm waiting little one." Becky closed her eyes and descended as slowly as she could. Her tight butt hole protested. "In one swift motion!" Deanna snapped, "Now rise up and do as I say, or I will do it for you!" Becky drew a shaky breath, rose up until the head popped from her, then impaled herself harder and faster than even Deanna could have imagined. "Uuuuuuuugggggggghhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!" she cried. Deanna slid her hand beneath Becky's butt and took hold of the dildo's base: steadying it. "Again!" she commanded. On somewhat shaky legs, Becky rose up, then dropped her weight back down. "Uuuugggghhhh!!!!" "Again!" "Uugghh!!" Like a woman possessed, Becky began to ride the dildo hard and fast. With each stroke, her large breasts swayed and bounced wildly; her thick middle quivered. At some point, Becky was not sure when, Deanna let go of the dildo and stepped back to watch the show. "Again!" "Ugh!" "Faster" "Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!" "Faster little one! Faster!" "Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh." "Faster!" "Ugh. Ugh. Ugh" Becky's energy level was fading. "Five more strokes!" Deanna commanded. "Yes . . . Mistress. "Ugh . . . Ugh . . . Ugh . . . Ugh . . . Ugh." Exhausted, Becky eased herself down, taking the dildo's full length. "Very good, little one. Now lie on the bed." Deanna said. Becky struggled to her feet and reached back to remove the dildo. "No! Leave it in place." Like the obedient 'little one' she'd be-cum, Becky did as instructed, then crawled onto the bed and laid back. "Spread your legs little one. As wide as they'll go." Becky brought her shaking legs up, then out and down. Deanna smiled a wicked smile, sat next to her and began to stroke Becky's very moist pussy lips. "Our time together is running short, little one. So far, you've done a good job of keeping me amused." Deanna could sense Becky's growing uneasiness at the forbidden touch, but continued to stroke her exposed pussy anyway. "Christina told me your desire to explore the submissive side of your personality, at the hands of a woman, was strong," she continued, "but she didn't tell me the lengths to which you would go in order to please your Mistress and perform for her. "Now roll on your side, little one." Without question or fuss, Becky did as instructed. "I'm going to remove the dildo your butt has be-cum so fond of and replace it with something more appropriate." Deanna said. "Yes Mistress." Deanna took hold of the weighted base and pulled, ever so slowly, easing the toy from Becky's still warm rear. Once it was free, she replaced it with a rather large, soft rubber, purple butt plug. As she pressed it home, the faint texture teased Becky's stretched hole; elicited a soft whimper when the widest point slipped inside; and an even softer moan as the flared base nestled in place. A not so gentle slap to Becky's filled behind. "Masturbate for me, little one!" Deanna moved from the bed and leaned against the wall: arms folded; right foot crossed over left in a somewhat authoritative pose. "Don't keep me waiting, little one. Masturbate for me!" "Mistress? May I remove the nipple clamps first? And the clit clip? Please?" "Why, little one?" "Mistress, when I masturbate, I like to play with my nipples and clit. If I may remove the clamps and clip, I would be better able to please you." "Permission granted. But as soon as you've finished, they go back on." "Yes Mistress." Deanna watched with an odd delight as Becky removed the clamps and clip. From her ginger movements, it was obvious how sore her tender flesh had be-cum. "Now masturbate for me, little one." Becky stacked two pillows and laid back. "Take off your heels. Stockings too." Deanna said as the scene unfolded, "I want you completely naked." With the sexiest of fanfare, Becky sat up and slipped her left shoe from her foot and let it tumble onto the bed. Her gaze locked on her Mistress, she used the heels of her hands to seductively roll her stocking down to her ankle, then off. "Nicely done, little one." Becky smiled a nervous smile, then, with the same sexy fanfare, extended her right leg high in the air and rotated her ankle until her shoe dangled on her toes, teetered, and fell to the bed. A raised eyebrow and sly smile conveyed Deanna's interest and appreciation. "Now your stocking; little one." Struggling to hold her leg at the awkward angle, Becky once more used the heels of her hands to roll her stocking toward her ankle, then off. Though she could not reason why, she needed to know that her every move met her Mistress' approval, and that her performance was building some degree of warmth beneath Deanna's skirt. "Masturbate for me." Deanna said, "Show me how you make love to yourself. How you make yourself cum." As she had done so many times in private, Becky closed her eyes and let her hands drift over her breasts. A light, feathery touch, starting near her shoulders, then moving over to her cleavage, then down: urging her breasts apart. Onward. Her palms glancing her nipples. Underneath, so that she could cup and squeeze each of her heaving bosoms. Repeated. Again, and again. Her legs moved together. Her left leg over her right. She drew it up. Slowly. Seductively, until her heel touched her knee. Back down. Just as slowly. Just as seductively. More attention to her nipples: her left hand acting alone, while her right drifted down to her pussy. Soft sounds escaped her. Moans. Coos. Becky slipped her fingers passed her swollen labia and deep inside her womb. Like a concert violinist, she played her pussy and breasts. Her motions were slow; exotic. "Yes, little one. Make love to that pussy. Stroke it. Tease it. Make it cum." Deanna's words fell softly, almost at a whisper. Approving. Encouraging. Becky kept up the show. She could feel her orgasm building. Her senses were keenly focused. She concentrated on her clit. Became more aggressive. More intense. She stroked, rolled, pinched her aching button. Her body began to writhe. "Yes, little one. Oh yes." Becky's orgasm neared. She slipped another finger inside her pussy. A fearsome finger-fuck ensued. Her desire to please (Deanna) had given way to her own desire for release. Her expert, long-practiced technique sent her over the edge. "Oh god!" she screamed, "I'm cumming! Mistress! I'm cumming . . ." * * * * * As the haze of her long denied orgasm began to fade, Becky was stirred by Deanna's touch as the nipple clamps were fastened back in place. Roused, as the clit clip embraced her throbbing little pearl. "Our time together is over." Deanna recited, "The stroke of midnight has arrived. My final commands are these. Put your stockings, heels, blouse and skirt back on. Leave the plug and your jewelry in place until your lover removes them for you. As to when that will be, that is up to him. Or better said: you. As we speak, he awaits you in his bed. The choice is yours as to when you go to him." Becky started to speak, but didn't. Deanna smiled, then winked, and left Becky alone to cum down from her experience. * * * * * Alone, Becky sat on the edge of the bed and put on her blouse. Her breasts were still swelled with arousal, and her nipples still ached with desire: a truth that was being exasperated by the gripping nature of the 'jewelry' she wore, and heightened by the casual sway of the weighty tear drop that dangled between; and not helped by the close-fitting silk. She stood to put on her skirt. Cum seeped from her pussy and lightly coated her thighs. The butt plug that stretched her so nicely pressed against her still tender cheeks. She eased the skirt over her hips, tucked in her blouse, hooked the clasp and pulled up the zipper. Sat back down and put on her stockings and heels. * * * * * Deanna was seated next to the fireplace when Becky entered the living room. "Mistress? I've finished dressing." she said. "Very good, little one." Deanna rose from her chair and escorted Becky to the door. "One last thing, little one. Open all but the last button of your blouse, and pull it back so that your lovely breasts are nicely exposed." Without hesitation, Becky undid the buttons and arranged her blouse to showcase her ample endowment. "Excellent!" Deanna said. Becky opened the door and stepped out into the night. She turned. A frigid gust of air swirled over her stocking clad legs and shot under her skirt to sting her naked pussy. Another attacked her thick nipples, causing the clamps to bite-in even more. "Deanna." she said, "I want to thank you. For everything." "You're quite welcome . . . little one." Becky turned once more and hurried to her car. Deanna closed the door, then picked up her cell phone and ran through the phonebook. Pressed send. "Hello?" a sleepy Christina Samuels answered. "Hi sis!" Deanna said, "Becky just left. She's on her way to Sam's." "How did it go?" Chris asked. "Fabulous! The script you gave me worked great. I only had to ad-lib a couple of times." "Good. I wasn't to sure you could pull it off." "Me neither. But you know something? With a few more rehearsals, I think I could really get into this role of 'Mistress'." "And give up directing Broadway plays?" Chris asked. "Maybe not. Speaking of which, I have to catch an 8:00 A.M. flight back to New York. Could you stop by sometime tomorrow and clean up for me? I promised Andrew I wouldn't leave the place a mess." Deanna said. "Sure. But you'll owe me one." "Becky will owe you one . . ."