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Lesbian MILF Seductress: Chocolate

By: silkstockingslover



SUMMARY: Black lawyer seduced and dommed by white teenage girl. 

Each of these seductions definitely stands on their own: 

Lesbian MILF Seductress: Bride 

Lesbian MILF Seductress: In Flight 

Lesbian MLF Seductress: Neighbor 

NOTE 1: That said, this one follows after MILF Lesbian Seductress: Neighbour and even has a few of the same lines of dialogue although written from a different character's perspective. 

Also, I get criticized for always writing white submits to black (with the exception of Deconstructing the Professor) so I thought I would try a black woman submits to a white teen girl story...this is the result. 

 NOTE 2: I should note that although the lawyer in this story is in her thirties, much older than my eighteen year old seductress Bree, she isn't necessarily a MILF, as she has no children and is single. Yet, it fits the younger seduces older undercurrent of this series. 

 NOTE 3: Thanks to MAB7991, Robert and goamz86. 

NOTE 4: Sorry it has taken so long to bring BREE back. Hopefully it won't take so long next time. 

***** 

It had been an exhausting day. The case had not gone as smoothly as anticipated and I needed to do some work over the weekend to prepare for Monday morning when the case resumed. 

I had been home less than fifteen minutes, just long enough to get out of my heels and pour myself a glass of wine when there was a knock at the door. 

I put my glass down and went to answer the door, shocked at what I saw. It was my neighbour, Nadine, a woman in her thirties, and a librarian at the public school, dressed in a high school cheerleader's outfit. I don't think I hid my shock too well as I tried to act normal. "Hi, Nadine." 

Nadine blurted out, clearly nervous to be at my front door dressed so inappropriately, "Hi Joan. Can I borrow some batteries for this toy?" She raised her hand to show me a big pink vibrator. 

I couldn't believe this reserved mother and community leader was at my front door dressed like a teenager and was now asking for batteries for a sex toy. Wanting to get her inside and out of the public eye, I said, still not sure this wasn't some bizarre prank, "Um ok. Come on in." 

Once she was inside, she handed me the toy. Being a lawyer I was used to dealing with surprises and showing no emotion, so I took the toy, gave one more look at her attire and said, "I think I have some batteries that will fit this in the office." 

I went to the office, sat down at my desk and looked at the vibrator. It was bigger than anything I had and made me think I should probably buy myself a new sex toy. My current one I had bought in college, and it was small and didn't really get me off. I opened the toy to see what kind of batteries it needed. I opened a drawer, grabbed the appropriate batteries and headed back to Nadine. 

I inserted the batteries as I walked. Reaching Nadine, I turned it on to make sure it worked and was surprised how much faster and more intense the vibrations were compared to my old toy and I was instantly curious what it would feel like in me. Turning it back off, I handed it to her and smiled, "Seems to work now." Deciding I had to know, curious as hell to know why she was dressed as she was, I asked, "But I have to ask, Nadine, why are you in a cheerleading outfit?" 

Nadine looked uncomfortable, as if trying to decide what to say to me. Eventually, she blurted out, "Bree made me." 

Bree was a pretty high school student a couple doors down from me who seemed rather sure of herself, based on the few times I had talked to her at community events. Yet, the answer seemed bizarre. I asked, actually surprised and wanting to make sure I heard her right, "She made you?" 

"Yes," She admitted, her face beet red, as she continued to shock me, "I can't explain it, but Bree is my Mistress, and I must obey everything she requests." 

Her answer was so absurd, I asked, beginning to think I was being put on, "Really?" 

Although at first she was reserved and embarrassed, she now looked me in the eyes as she continued, "Oh, yes, really Joan." After a pause, she added, her tone suddenly seductive, "Oh, and I almost forgot, I am supposed to ask if you could use my services." 

"Excuse me?" I asked, completely shocked by her offer and odd behaviour. 

She continued, clarifying her offer, "Yes, Joan. I would love to eat your pussy." 

I gasped, but said firmly, in no uncertain terms, "I think you should leave now, Nadine!" 

"Ok," she said, suddenly looking embarrassed like she did when she first arrived on my door step, "Sorry to have bothered you." 

She turned and walked away and I closed the door...bewildered by the past five minutes. What could possibly have transpired to make Nadine act like that? How in the world did Bree seemingly make Nadine do something so out of character? Lastly, why was my pussy wet? 

I grabbed my wine, downed it, poured another glass and went to have a bubble bath. In the tub, I couldn't get the bizarre encounter with Nadine out of my head. Maybe it was the conversation, maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was the fact I hadn't had sex in months, but I was undeniably horny. Closing my eyes, I began pleasuring myself in the tub. I imagined taking Nadine, who was a pretty woman, up on her offer. I wasn't a lesbian by any stretch, never having even kissed a woman before, but the idea of having my pussy licked was very appealing. It didn't take long for me to get off imagining Nadine eating me out. My orgasm done, I shook my head at the strange evening and my reaction to it...I clearly needed to get laid soon.  

... 

The next day, Saturday, I was heading into the office a little after ten to get some work done for the continuing of the case Monday, when I saw Bree and Nadine's daughter Katherine, both dressed strangely for a Saturday morning in skirts and pantyhose walking towards my car. 

Bree, seeing me, waved, "Good morning, Ms. Myers." 

My face went red as I flashbacked to Nadine's words about Bree from last night. The wind caught her skirt, lifting it up and revealing she was wearing thigh highs, which made her outfit even more inappropriate. "Good morning, Bree, Katherine," I called back, reaching my car. "Shouldn't you ladies still be sleeping?" 

Bree smiled, "We never went to bed." 

"Oh, to be young again," I joked, although I was a pretty boring teenager, always focused on getting the highest marks so I could get into Harvard...which I did. 

Bree walked towards me, a confident look on her face. She asked, "Did you have a good night?" 

Recalling my masturbation session in my tub, I suddenly felt flushed. Yet, I answered, "It was an early bedtime." 

Reaching me, she said with an odd confidence, "On a Friday night. You should have come over and joined us." 

Knowing, or assuming, that she had sex with Nadine last night and I couldn't fathom how Katherine fit into the picture, I answered logically, "I'm not sure I should be partying with teenage girls." 

"First, we're both eighteen and legal adults," Bree pointed out; seemingly unable to not sound sultry when she talked. "And second," she continued, her words dripping with innuendo that wouldn't have meant anything if said to me before yesterday, but after the Nadine incident, I knew exactly what she was implying, when she added, "an evening with me would forever change your life." 

Her tone, her determined look, her sultry voice and obvious sexual intentions on me had me flustered unlike the many high powered lawyers who tried to get under my skin, as I said, "Um, I need to get to work." 

"On a Saturday?" Bree asked. 

"Work never ends," I shrugged. 

"I think, Ms. Myers, you need to get out more," she suggested, before adding, speaking each word slowly with deliberate intent, "relax...experiment...live life...submit to your natural desires." 

"My natural desires?" I questioned. 

"Yes, it is obvious that you need a sexual outlet from your intense job," Bree said matter-of-factly. 

"That is ludicrous," I retorted. 

"Is it?" she asked. "When was the last time you got laid?" 

"That is none of your business," I said firmly, as I went to open my car door, shocked by her forwardness. 

Bree, her aggressive behaviour slightly intimidating, as she moved so close to me I could smell her perfume, asked, "Why didn't you take up my slut's offer?" 

"Young lady, this is very inappropriate," I firmly responded, reminding her of the age gap between us and that I was the adult. 

"Is your cunt wet right now?" she asked, her tone sultry, ignoring completely my firm scolding. 

I glanced over to Katherine who was watching from her own car, before I repeated my scolding, "Young lady, you will not speak to me in such a manner." 

"I'll take that as a yes," she smiled, turning away and walking back to Katherine. 

Rattled by her behaviour, I quickly got into my car, and pulled out of the driveway. I turned the opposite way and looked in my review mirror, to see Bree was watching me and blowing me a kiss. 

As I drove, I couldn't believe her aggressive, presumptuous behaviour. Was she that aggressive with Nadine? What in the world made her think she could talk to me like that? She had always been a bit self-centered from my few interactions with her, but this was completely different. Lastly, why the hell was I wet? 

Getting to work, I tried to push the strange confrontation out of my mind, as I focused on the case I was going to be defending on Monday. Unfortunately, I couldn't stay focused and after a few of hours of getting very little done I decided to call it a day. 

It wasn't until I was driving home, a little after three o'clock that I replayed the two strange conversations I had with Nadine and Bree. Passing an adult sex store, I made a sharp turn and pulled in, the thought of a new sex toy suddenly seeming like a good idea. 

In the store, I was quickly overwhelmed...there were toys everywhere...many of which I couldn't even fathom having a sexual purpose. In such a store, I felt nervous and out of place, but I quickly, my head down, went to where the female toys were. Once there, I didn't know where to start; like a kid in a candy store, they all looked good to me. 

Behind me a female voice asked, "Can I help you, ma'am?" 

I jumped slightly, startled, but joked, "The evolution of sex toys has really evolved since I was in college." 

The younger women laughed, "And you're in the tame section." 

Grabbing a twelve inch rubber cock, I asked, "This is tame?" 

"Turn the corner if you want your world rocked," she smiled. 

"I'm overwhelmed with these...not sure I'm ready for whatever is around the corner," I said jokingly, although I meant it. After a pause, I said, "I just want a new vibrator that can help me when a man isn't available." 

"For a simple vibrator, this is our best seller," the young girl explained, grabbing an eight inch pink vibrator, that ironically looked identical to the one Nadine had brought over the night before, which had triggered this visit to the sex shop in the first place. 

"This is three inches longer than my current one," I again joked, finding humour the easiest way to make me comfortable talking about sex toys. 

"I imagine it is a lot more powerful too. This one has eight settings for speeds and different pulsations depending on your mood," she explained. 

"My mood?" I questioned. My mood when I used my vibrator, which was rare, was I was horny. 

She explained, "This vibrator can be really intense and give you a quick, explosive orgasm or it can give you a slow, building tease that will keep you on the edge of pleasure forever. It can do everything in between, too." 

"Oh," I nodded, never having thought about just having a relaxing orgasm. 

"Also, that doesn't include what you decide to do with your hands," she said, with a naughty smile. 

I laughed, "Is there an instruction manual for this thing?" 

She shook her head no. "That is the best part...you can experiment and explore your body." 

"I suppose," I said still feeling uncomfortable with the discussion. Deciding this would do, I said, "I'll take it." 

"Now I must show you one more thing before you go," she said excitedly. 

I quipped, "I'm not ready to go around that corner yet." 

"I imagine that is true," she agreed, before adding, "but this toy is the best invention for single women ever." 

"Okay, you have me curious," I replied. 

She grabbed a big long looking wand and said, "It's called a magical wand." 

"It should be called a mini sex-bat," I joked. 

"It does give you a major bang for your buck," she joked back, before adding a baseball reference, "and it is guaranteed to hit a home run every time." 

"This can't go in you," I said, unable to fathom how this long stick with a wide head could possibly be a sex toy. 

She laughed. "It doesn't go in you. You put it on your clit and pussy lips, sometimes while using your fingers, a real penis, dildo, vibrator, strap-on, double-ended dildo, or, my favourites, a vibrating egg or ben wa balls." 

"You lost me at vibrating egg," I said, bewildered by the lengthy list of things that could go inside a vagina. 

"Oooooh, you should get one of those, too," she said, excited like I was when recommending classic literature to friends. She grabbed an egg-shaped toy and continued, "This also has a few different speeds and can be used to give you intense or soothing pleasure. I often wear one of these when out with the boyfriend." 

"Really?" I asked, unable to fathom how that wouldn't be incredibly uncomfortable and distracting. 

"It makes the sex later amazing," she added. 

"I am getting a whole lesson on sex toys," I joked, although it wasn't really a joke. 

She shrugged, "Sorry, I get excited by toys." 

"Pun not intended," I teased, feeling somehow more comfortable the more I took to this unnamed young woman. 

She broke out laughing. 

Deciding what the hell, I had the money, I said, "I'll buy all three." 

"You're making a good choice," she nodded, taking the items. 

"It's time to enter the 21st century, it seems," I nodded. 

"Oh, to do that, you would have to go around the corner," she winked. 

"Maybe next time," I shrugged. "I think three toys are enough of a step forward." 

"You'll be all the buzz," she quipped, before adding, "pun intended." 

I bought the items, some batteries, got a twenty percent discount, and learned her name was Rylee. I thanked her for her advice and she said you're welcome and come back anytime. I don't know why I said it, I was never one to say such sexual things, but I quipped, "Oh, I hope to be coming very soon." 

Back in the car, feeling oddly surreal, I drove home hoping to try my new toys. The day had been a complete waste and oddly stressful and I definitely needed to relax and a good orgasm would surely help. 

Once inside the house, I quickly went to my room to get undressed, excited to experiment with my new toys. Getting naked, I put the toys on my bed, grabbed my laptop and pulled up my favourite erotica site, Literotica. 

Although I am definitely a prim and proper woman, my fantasies are often quite naughty. I read about being gangbanged, blackmailed or seduced. The reality is I am way too worried about my career to ever risk it with kinky sex, but the idea of being forced has always been a turn-on. So when I go online I often search for stories about blackmail, coercion, and so forth. 

I put batteries in both the vibrator and the wand and began pleasing myself, both toys on low. I read a couple blackmail stories, imagined I was the blackmailed protagonist being forced to be a slut and soon was pumping the vibrator in my cunt, while holding the wand on my clit creating an intense pleasure that had my orgasm building quickly. 

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. I considered not answering it, but I reluctantly stopped the toys, pulled the vibrator out, put on a robe and headed downstairs. 

I looked through my peephole to see it was Katherine, looking nervous, standing on my doorstep in a girl scout's outfit. I sighed, assuming this was another strange confrontation led by Bree. Yet, Katherine was a sweet girl and one I instantly thought maybe I could help. 

I opened the door and cheerfully greeted, "Good afternoon, Katherine." 

"Hi, Ms. Myers," she greeted back, avoiding eye contact. 

"What can I do for you?" I asked, curious what she was going to say. 

"Would you like to buy some Girl Scout panties?" she asked, which shocked me completely. 

I was so taken aback by her question; I was literally speechless. 

"They've been freshly come in," the young lady continued, though clearly mortified to be saying it. 

"Katherine, please come in," I offered, deciding I was going to have to do something about this. 

"I can't," she shook her head, before adding, looking up at me with a look of both guilt and hunger, "unless you want the Girl Scout lick special." 

"Girl Scout lick special?" I questioned, even though I was pretty sure what she was implying. 

Out of the blue, Bree showed up from around the corner, and said, "Yes, Ms. Myers, it's a brand new badge Girl Scouts can earn by servicing sexually deprived older women like yourself." 

Her pretentious attitude, even if she was right and I was under sexed, pissed me off and I snapped, "Bree, it's time to grow up." 

She laughed, "Oh, Ms. Myers, denial is so adorable." 

"Excuse me?" I questioned, somehow allowing myself to get drawn into a battle of personalities I didn't need to join. 

"You're the prototype," she vaguely explained. 

I sighed, "I don't have time for this." 

Ignoring my words again, she continued, "Overworked and under pleasured is a bad mixture." 

"You're eighteen, what do you know about the real world," I shot back, annoyed that her words continued to be correct...but like in the court room I wasn't going to admit when my opponent was right. 

"Deniaaaal," she said all sing-song, pretentiousness dripping in just one word. She added, "Katherine's mom said very similar words and look at her now...a perfect pussy pleaser." 

"I'm not Nadine," I pointed out. 

"No, you're worse. At least Nadine has a man at home," Bree countered, moving directly in front of me, before shifting her tone to sultry, "although no one can pleasure a woman like another woman...isn't that correct, Katherine?" 

Katherine, her head still lowered, unable to make eye contact, her humiliation written all over her red cheeks and posture, responded, "Yes, Mistress Bree." 

Bree, never breaking eye contact with me asked, as her fingers went beneath my robe, "So do you want the Girl Scout lick special?" 

"Leave," I demanded, pushing her hand away, suddenly flustered by her touch. 

"Denial," she repeated. 

I went to close my door as Bree ordered, "Katherine, give our new recruit a pair of free Girl Scout panties." 

Katherine's eyes went big, as she looked behind her, before quickly bending down, pulling off her panties and handing them to me. 

I watched the act in frozen bewilderment. I couldn't believe how extreme Bree was, nor could I believe how obedient Katherine was. Without even realizing I did it, I took her panties, noticing instantly how wet they were. 

Bree said, taking Katherine by the hand, "Have a good evening, Ms. Myers, it looks like we interrupted you in the middle of something." 

Still paralyzed with shock, I watched the two girls walk away, hand in hand, while I held Katherine's pink wet panties in my hand. Realizing if anyone walked by they would see me in a robe with panties in my hand, I quickly closed the door and leaned against it. 


Lesbian MILF Seductress: Chocolate



I was furious with Bree's disrespect towards me and equally furious at her treatment of sweet Katherine. Yet, as I leaned against the door, I couldn't deny my pussy was leaking. I quickly went to my room, her panties still in my hand, and grabbing both toys resumed pleasuring myself...both toys turned on high, determined to finish what I started. 

My eyes closed, I imagined Bart, a handsome lawyer colleague leaning over top of me, slamming his cock in me. We had flirted a lot the past few months and if time ever permitted it I figured we would do more than just have the occasional work dinner. 

As I pumped my cunt with the vibrator and held the magic wand on my clit, sensations pulsing through me with intensity, my phone rang. 

Deciding I wasn't going to be interrupted twice, and whoever it was could leave a message, I continued my self-pleasuring, ignoring the ringing until the message began. 

The voice was Katherine's and she spoke in a surprisingly sexy tone, "If you're pleasuring yourself right now, which Mistress Bree is confident you are, please think of me eating that sexy black cunt of yours and smell my panties, which I came in before coming to see you while I was thinking of you joining Mistress's growing harem of submissive sluts." 

My eyes went wide, as I stopped fucking myself to listen to Katherine. Her words were shocking and yet the thought of her between my legs licking me suddenly popped into my head. Close to orgasm, I mindlessly obeyed her words as I reached for her panties and smelt them. The thought that she came while thinking of me turned me on, and as I smelt her unique scent, I returned to pleasuring myself. 

I closed my eyes and allowed the taboo fantasy of lesbian lust to play itself in my head. I needed both hands for the two toys, so without thinking I put the panties in my mouth, her taste strong and tangy, surprisingly tasty, and continued to pleasure myself. 

Bart had disappeared from the fantasy and he was replaced by Katherine who eagerly licked my pussy. Her white face, a sharp contrast to my black legs somehow turned me on even more and soon I was close to coming. 

As I furiously pumped my vibrator in and out of my cunt, while putting intense pleasure on my clit with the wand, Bree's face popped into my head as I heard her words, "That's it my pet. Give yourself to me like a good girl. Submit to your white goddess." 

"Fuuuuuuck," I screamed, the panties dropping from my mouth out of pleasure as my orgasm hit me and out of frustration that Bree's demeaning, racist words were the final straw that had broken the camel's back. As my body twitched and shook, the orgasm seeming to continue pulsing through me like continuous waves against a shore, I couldn't believe how the thought of being her pet and she my white goddess got me off. Those were words my own mind had created, even if the implication had begun with Bree earlier. It was my own cognition, one I never knew existed, and that had brought Bree and her dominant personality into my fantasy. 

The orgasm finally done, I pulled the vibrator out of my leaking cunt, shut off both toys and lay in my bed trying to understand why Bree had been pulled into my fantasy. 

I was not submissive. 

I was not a lesbian. 

I sure as hell had ever imagined having a white goddess before. I had spent my whole life overcoming racism to get where I was in my career and had fought against racist stereotypes. 

Exhausted, even though it was only five o'clock, I closed my eyes and drifted into slumber hoping a good sleep would clear my head. 

... 

I woke up four hours later, shocked I had slept so long, my face buried in Katherine's panties. I sat up realizing instantly that all that had transpired wasn't some strange dream but had really happened. My stomach growling, I got up, grabbed the phone and ordered some take-out. 

I quickly showered, got in my pajamas and opened my laptop to check my messages. My food arrived a few minutes into replying to a few business emails and I took a break to eat. 

I scarfed down my food, apparently hungrier than I realized. Returning to my laptop, I noticed I had two new emails. One was a response to a question I had asked Carol, a colleague of mine, and the other was from MistressB. 

I sighed knowing instantly this was obviously a message from Bree. I shouldn't have opened it, but curiosity overrode common sense. I clicked on the message: 

Pet-to-be: 

If I know you, which I do, you went right to your room and pleasured yourself after we left.  

I gasped at her completely preposterous and yet completely true assessment. 

I also imagine when you saw this message you considered just deleting it and not reading it...yet it was a VERY brief consideration before indeed continuing your reluctant, although inevitable, journey to sexual submission. 

I was annoyed that she was again correct, but equally annoyed by her pompous words and assumptions. I should have stopped reading then, but again curiosity at her generic assumptions of me kept me reading. 

Are you curious how your neighbour ended up being my pet? 

Actually, I was incredibly curious. Nadine was a polite, sweet, loyal friend and I still couldn't fathom how she ended up on my door step last night. 

Are you curious how her daughter ended up also being my pet? 

That was also something I was curious about...although with the internet, rainbow parties, bisexuality being in and so forth, Katherine's submission was less perplexing although based on my few interactions with her...still surprising. 

 

Are you curious to know that I have a few other pets? 

I instantly was. Bree was eighteen years old...how could she even begin to accumulate the lesbian harem she implied she had? 

 

Are you curious why I have chosen you as my next pet? 

I reread that sentence a few times. She had chosen me? Why? I was not someone she knew well...nor was I someone who was remotely perceived as submissive. 

Are you curious why your cunt is wet right now? 

I reread that sentence too, again annoyed by her so far accurate hypotheses, yet as I moved my legs together, I realized, unknown to me, I was indeed wet. Why? The thought of lesbian sex, let alone lesbian sex with a bossy eighteen year old, didn't interest me in the least. 

The answer to the last two questions are black and white...pun intended. 

YOU 

ARE 

SUBMISSIVE 

! 

Ironically, you had never even considered such a theory until it was presented to you and yet now, even though you want to deny it, the reality that I am right is confusing you. 

Fuuuuck! I cursed to myself. All her words were frustratingly true. 

If I am correct, and I usually am, you even consider my accusations and behaviour pretentious. 

I had used that exact word to describe her ever since our first confrontation today. 

Go ahead my pet-to-be, give in to those deep dark desires hidden in the depths of your stagnant sexuality. 

Her words were silly, implying that deep down I was a submissive lesbian just waiting for the right moment to break free from society's man-woman expectations. 

Go ahead my pet-to-be, touch yourself for me. Submit to your increasing desire to serve...to obey.  

Again the words were silly, pretentious (damn I can't stop using that word) and obscene and yet I felt my hand go under my panties and to my very wet pussy. Although maybe her words were on some subconscious level true, I decided submitting in my own home, under my own rules, wasn't really obeying her...but letting go of pent up sexual frustrations I had long held in...even after the amazing orgasm I had given myself earlier today. 

My eyes closed, I rubbed my pussy, at first just pleasuring myself, then giving in to the absurd fantasy of sexual submission. I imagined she walked into my house after our last conversation and took control. She lifted up her skirt, snapped her fingers and I, without hesitation, dropped to my knees, and crawled to her. She looked down at me with that smug 'I-told-you-so' look as I leaned forward and began licking her pussy. 

Like when I used to suck cock, loving having a man grab my head and fuck my mouth, she grabbed my head and ground her pussy on my face. As I tried to lick while being used as a pleasure vessel, my hand moved to my own needy pussy and began rubbing myself. 

The thought of lesbian submission got me near the point of orgasmic bliss quickly and I opened my eyes to read more of the letter. The next sentence shamelessly brought me over the top. 

 Become who you are meant to be...a slave to a white Mistress. 

 "Shiiiit," I cursed both because my orgasm exploded through me and because I was mortified that reading those racist words was the final straw that again broke the camel's back. 

I again closed my eyes as the orgasm continued pulsing through my body. Finally, a couple of minutes later, my orgasm done, I opened my eyes to read the rest of the email...unable to believe how her words had gotten me off...especially such a racist sentence. 

Yet, when I realized that was the end of the email, a wave of disappointment hit me. I couldn't understand my feelings, my sudden weakness or the strange fantasies popping into my head. 

Pulling me out of my confusion, the phone rang. I was worried it was going to be Bree, but it was actually my mom. I spent the next hour chatting about my parents' summer plans, Dad's health issues, my college sister's bad decisions and finished with the usual, 'when am I going to get a man?' conversation. 

Also, as usual, I was exhausted and annoyed by the time I was done talking with Mom. I loved her, but her stubborn, always right personality was frustrating...especially after the bizarre day I had had. 

Doing what I usually did after a stressful day, I grabbed a movie, this time 'A Time to Kill', and shut my brain off from all my stresses. 

I was near the end of the movie, a little after midnight, watching, for a hundredth time, Matthew McConaughey's great close, when my phone buzzed informing me I had a text message. I ignored it as I continued to listen to McConaughey's riveting speech. Just as the credits rolled I got a second text. 

I grabbed my phone and wasn't surprised to see they were from an unknown number. Like the e-mail, I knew I should ignore the texts, yet again I couldn't resist. 

The first said: 

Check your mailbox. 

The second said: 

NOW! 

I don't know why...curiosity...my submissive side...but I went to my door and checked my mailbox. I opened the door and looked around to see if anyone was watching. Not seeing anyone, I reached in the mailbox, grabbed the package, and returned inside. 

Looking at the package, I became even more confused. It was a pair of white pantyhose. 

My phone buzzed again. 

I went to grab it, annoyed at the symbolism of white nylons. I read the message: 

 

Good girl. 

I tossed the package on the couch, suddenly furious. This had gone on long enough. 

I texted back: 

This ends now. 

I waited for a response, but none came. I called the number, but it rang and rang. I considered going to Bree's mother, Carrie, but wasn't sure how to broach the subject. After twenty minutes of anxiety and stewing, I decided to go and confront Carrie about her daughter's inappropriate behaviour...even at this late hour. 

I threw on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt and walked the couple doors down to her place. Taking a deep breath, I knocked on the door, happy to see the lights were still on. 

A few moments later, Carrie opened it, a satin robe on. She greeted me warmly, "Joan, what a pleasant surprise." 

"May I come in for a moment?" I asked. 

"Of course," she offered, opening the door wide and allowing me in. 

Carrie worked as an advisor for Governor Green and, I expected, someone who would be furious when she found out about her daughter's behaviour. 

Once I was inside, I noticed she was wearing pantyhose under her robe which seemed strange. I asked, "I hope I am not interrupting something." 

"Nothing that can't wait," she smiled, before asking, "Is something wrong?" 

"Is Bree here?" I asked. 

"No, she is out with Katherine," she answered. "Why?" 

"I don't know how to tell you this," I began, suddenly feeling awkward having this conversation with her. 

"Joan, nothing you tell me can surprise me," she smiled. I had always known that Carrie was pretty, but with her hair down, and her charming smile I could see just how beautiful she actually is. 

"Well, this might," I warned. 

"Did Bree try to seduce you?" She asked matter-of-factly, surprising me. 

"Yes," I nodded. 

"She is getting a bit too ambitious," she sighed. 

"Ambitious?" I asked, confused by her response. 

"Well, her appetite is a bit insatiable," she continued. 

"I'm not following," I replied, confusion compounding confusion. 

"Well you know the rush you had after your first court victory?" She asked. 

"Of course," I nodded, briefly reminiscing to a few years ago and the Salisbery Case. 

"Well, Bree seduced and collared her first submissive pet a few weeks ago and seems to really get a sense of accomplishment each time she adds to her growing harem of submissives," she explained again rather matter-of-factly, as if we were talking about the weather. 

"You're okay with that?" I asked flabbergasted. 

I didn't know Carrie really well, but considering her high profile job, I couldn't fathom she would be okay with her daughter's seedy indiscretions. 

"Like mother, like daughter," she shrugged. 

"But you're married!" I pointed out. 

"So is Nadine," she shrugged. "So are most of my pets." 

"Most of your pets," I repeated, like a parrot...dazed and confused. 

"You really are naive," she said, shaking her head, before turning around and calling out, "Slut, get over here." 

Although I should have left, I was paralyzed with shock, and stared at the doorway curious as to who I was going to see...I assumed Nadine. 

A moment later, Mrs. Blair, our church choir leader and the most prim and proper woman I knew, appeared on all fours, naked except for a pair of black thigh highs. 

"Mrs. Blair!" I gasped. 

She looked up, clearly embarrassed, but greeted me, "Hi, Ms. Myers." 

Carrie explained, "You see, Joan, most women are either dominant or submissive and both my daughter and I have the natural aura to draw submissive women to us." 

I glanced down at Mrs. Blair, her big tits sagging in her on all fours position, my own pussy again betraying me as it began to get wet. Returning my attention to Carrie I said, "Well, please have your daughter leave me alone." 

"I'll give her your request," Carrie smiled, as she snapped her fingers and Mrs. Blair, her face ruby red, crawled to Carrie's feet. "But, Bree has turned every woman she has set her eyes on so far." 

"Well, I guess her streak is over," I quipped. 

"My feet, slut," Carrie ordered, and I watched as Mrs. Blair bent down and began licking the top of Carrie's nylon-covered foot. 

I stared, in awe of the submissive act, curious how Mrs. Blair ended up in this situation. 

"Wondering how Mrs. Blair became my lesbian plaything?" Carrie asked. 

"Yes, no," I said, realizing I had to get out of here as the submissive act was beginning to turn me on. 

"Come in and I will tell you," Carrie said, taking my hand. 

"What? No, I've got to go," I responded pulling my hand away and quickly exiting her house. 

Carrie called out, "Come back any time." 

Flustered, I hurried back to my house, my panties undeniably drenched...which only frustrated me more. 

Reaching my door, I saw there was a package on my step. I grabbed it quickly and returned inside dishevelled, bewildered and horny. Curious, although I knew it had to be from Bree, I opened the package and saw it contained a pair of white panties. I looked for a note explaining the odd package, but saw none. Curiosity overriding common sense, I went to my email to see if I had any new messages. I did. One was from Bree, from ten minutes earlier. 

My pet-to-be: 

Go and get the package left on your front step. I expect you to wear these at church as well as the thigh highs I left you earlier. Any disobedience to my expectations will result in a punishment. 

Mistress B 

Was she serious? Bree and I went to the same church, and I had often been dismayed by some of the outfits she wore in the house of The Lord. A black woman like myself wearing white nylons would stand out like a sore thumb. Plus, it was obviously an implied racial shot to add to her implied superiority over me. 

Although still horny, a sudden anger at her racist assumption, had me respond: 

Not going to happen! 

Clicking send, I shook my head at the nerve of this teenage girl as I tried to wrap my head around what I had just witnessed with Carrie and Mrs. Blair. Even though I was angry, it only simmered my burning down below, and for the third time today I went to pleasure myself. 

I had barely began pleasuring myself, trying the wand and vibrator on lower speeds, when I was interrupted by the doorbell for the second time. 

Angry, I again grabbed my robe and went downstairs ready to blast Bree. Yet, as I opened the door without checking the peephole, I was shocked to see Mrs. Blair standing in front of me looking nervous. 

"May I come in?" she asked, her hands literally shaking. 

I looked around to see if anyone was watching, I don't know why, before agreeing, "Sure." 

Once inside, she said, not making eye contact, "I'm sorry you had to see that." 

"It was quite shocking," I admitted, although with my pussy dying for me to finish what I had started, the thought of her eating my pussy popped into my head against my own better judgement. 

"I understand," she nodded, looking like a child waiting to be scolded. 

"How?" I asked, the question that continued to repeat itself with each revelation. 

"It's a long story," she answered, "which I will tell you another time. I only have a couple of minutes." 

"Do you have to go back to your Mistress?" I sarcastically asked. 

"No, I have to get home to my husband," she answered, only adding to the complexity of her sin. 

Knowing she was here for a reason, I asked, "So, why are you here, Mrs. Blair?" 

"Mistress Bree sent me over to tell you something," she revealed, in a whisper. 

"You have more than one Mistress?" I questioned. 

Ignoring my question, she said, her eyes finally making eye contact with me, "Obey or else." 

"Obey the pompous demands of an eighteen year old?" I questioned. 

"It's not that simple," she answered. 

"How so?" I asked, just as her phone rang. 

"Damn it," she sighed. "I have to go." 

She turned to leave, before adding, "Resistance is futile, Joan." 

I scoffed, "That is ridiculous." 

"That's what I thought too," she said sadly, before adding, "but Bree is irresistible and doesn't take no for an answer." 

"That, I find hard to believe," I said, as she opened the door. 

Looking at me, for the first time not with a look of guilt, she asked, "Is it?" 

She walked out, closed the door as I stood still pondering her words. 

Frustrated, exhausted and, strangely, still horny, I locked the door, returned to my room and my bed. My cunt on fire, contradicting how I should feel after all that had transpired, I slammed the vibrator into my cunt, wishing I had a man to fuck me hard like I desperately wanted. I pumped the buzzing toy furiously, as I put pressure on my clit with the wand. My eyes closed, a litany of women paraded in my mind: Nadine, Katherine, Carrie, Mrs. Blair and Bree. Unlike my first two orgasms, which came quickly, this one seemed to refuse to erupt even though I had both toys on high and was fucking myself as fast as I could. 




Lesbian MILF Seductress: Chocolate



Frustrated, and somehow knowing what my body wanted, I imagined submitting to Bree. I moaned, "Yes, Bree, make me your pet." 

The words instantly brought new pleasure and I continued to give in to the forbidden submission to a white teenager as I declared: 

"Oh yes, Mistress." 

"Oh God, so close." 

"Fuck your slut." 

"Make me your bitch." 

My orgasm so close, my need to erupt turning me into something I wasn't, I screamed, "My white Mistress, please make me your black pussy slavvvvvve." My legs stiffened, my body convulsed and my orgasm finally hit with the intensity of a thousand suns, I pulled the toy out of my cunt as my cum flooded out of me like a raging river. I laid in bed for minutes, the pleasure making my whole body weak. Groggily, my body and mind way past exhaustion; I stood and went to the bathroom. 

Naked, I stared at myself in the mirror. What had just come over me? Why did humiliating myself get me off? Why couldn't I resist Bree in my fantasies? Why did I say what I said? 

Deciding I would confront her tomorrow, I finished in the bathroom and went to bed...drifting into slumber in seconds. 

... 

Waking up, I showered and, deciding to make a clear statement to Bree, I wore all black. I don't know why I did it, but I decided to check my e-mail, knowing it could only be more condescending gibberish from the teenager. To my surprise, there was no e-mail from her and I wondered if she was done playing this game with me or if she had something else intended next. 

I was just getting ready to leave when I got another knock on the door. 

Sighing, I opened the door and wasn't surprised at all when it was Bree. She walked in, brushing past me, and said, "You don't follow instructions too clearly." 

"Get out of my house," I ordered, annoyed by her entitled attitude. 

"Go get dressed as I instructed," she ordered. 

"Not going to happen," I responded firmly. 

She sighed, "You're a lot more stubborn than most of my conquests." 

"Conquests?" I questioned. 

"I always get what I want," she continued, walking towards me. 

"Well, I guess that streak just came to an end." I shot back, not feeling unnerved by her threatening persona. 

"I admire your confidence," she smiled, now directly in front of me. 

"Not sure I care," I replied, maintaining my confidence. 

"Ever eaten pussy?" she asked. 

"No," I firmly answered. 

"Mmmmmm, a cunt-licking virgin," she smiled, her tone and pursing of her lips frustratingly sending a tingle down below against my will. 

"Leave," I demanded. 

"Knees," she retorted, not moving. 

"I'm not some mindless bimbo," I countered. 

"Ohh, I don't go after bimbos, they're too easy," she smiled, before adding, "do you think Mrs. Blair or Nadine are bimbos?" 

"No," I admitted, not wanting to condemn them, "but that doesn't mean I am going to follow suit." 

Her hands cupped my breasts, "You have some nice tits." 

I slapped her hands away. "How dare you!" 

She chuckled softly, "Denial is so adorable." 

"What am I denying?" I questioned, again getting drawn into her game. 

"That you don't want to submit to me," she confidently responded. 

"I don't," I quickly responded, even as last night's fantasies flashed in my head. 

"Is your cunt wet right now?" she questioned. 

"Yes, it's soaking wet thinking of submitting to you," I sarcastically shot back. 

She stood firm, as she quipped, "I know that was an attempt at sarcasm, and I also know that in every sarcastic jab there is truth." 

"Says the eighteen year old," I responded, trying to use her age against her. 

Ignoring my words, she said with a sly smile, "Tell you what. If your cunt is dry right now, I will walk out this door and never bother you again." 

I froze as I felt wetness leak out of my pussy and into my panties. I should have responded with a quick retort like I often did in court when a witness would throw me a curveball, yet I wasn't able to say a word. 

"Your silence is very assuring to my assumptions," she continued. 

"Leave," I repeated, although it was weaker than my earlier demand. 

"Just let go of your inhibitions," she said. 

"Bree, leave now," I repeated, desperate to get her out of here as images of last night's fantasy continued to play in my head. 

"So is your cunt dry?" she questioned. 

"Bree, I'm not going to ask you again," I firmly threatened, using all the resolve I had left in me. 

"It's a simple yes or no question," she said, not moving. "Being a lawyer I would think you would understand the reality that not answering the question implies evasiveness, and in conclusion the jury assumes you're indeed wet." 

I scoffed, although I avoided eye contact, as my pussy got wetter, "You're trying to lawyer me?" 

"No, just judging the evidence," she shrugged, as she moved her hand quickly under my skirt and to my undeniably wet pussy. "Hmmmm, case closed." 

I moaned at her touch, it being ages since someone had touched my pussy. 

"Unfortunately, I need to get to church," she smiled, tapping her finger on my clit, making me twitch, before she added, "as do you." 

She leaned in and kissed me quickly, before moving away and ordering, "I expect you to change into what I ordered you to wear, my pet." 

The words 'my pet' sent another tingle to my pussy as I stood still, paralyzed with apprehension. 

"You better hurry, aren't you a greeter today?" she asked. 

"Just leave," I whispered, mortified by my weakness. 

"See you soon," she smiled, with a wink. At the door, she added, "Obey, my pet." 

She finally left, and as soon as the door closed I dropped to the floor. My cunt burning, I rolled onto my back, put my hand inside my pantyhose and began frantically rubbing myself. I imagined just giving in and obeying Bree, allowing myself to let go of, as she said, my inhibitions. The orgasm built quickly and I was so concentrated on getting myself off that I didn't hear the front door open, nor did I know I was being filmed as I screamed as my orgasm hit me, "Yesss, Mistress Bree." 

Although I quickly learned the door had indeed opened, and that I was being filmed when I heard Bree say, "I don't recall giving you permission to come." 

I opened my eyes to see Bree standing over me, her phone assumedly filming me. "P-p-please don't film this." 

She put her phone away, repeating her earlier instructions, "I expect you to change into what I instructed you to wear," and again left. 

I quickly stood up, mortified that I had given into the temptation and doubly mortified that she likely had blackmail evidence against me. Glancing at the clock, I realized I had to get going as I was a greeter at church today. Scared if I disobeyed Bree, she would show someone the video of me pleasuring myself, I went upstairs, got undressed, put on the white panties and white pantyhose stockings she ordered me to, and slipped on a fun flower patterned sun dress that was long enough to cover the stocking tops. I grabbed a pair of flats and hurried out the door, my stress level reaching new heights. 

I considered not going to church, but besides being a greeter, it was the day of the new parishioners' luncheon which I was in charge of. I prayed that obeying her ludicrous clothing expectations would keep her from outing me in public...since I had to assume she wasn't planning to out herself. 

I got to church a couple minutes late, hurried in and apologized to the other three greeters who all gave me a surprised look before pretending that wearing white nylons was normal. 

The next twenty minutes flew by as I chatted with friends, parishioners and a few new people, forgetting that I was dressed as instructed by Bree...until Bree and her mother arrived, both dressed much more conservatively than I was. 

Carrie leaned in and whispered, "You look good enough to ass-fuck." 

I gasped, not remotely expecting such words. 

Bree put something round in my hands and ordered, "Put these in your cunt, or else." 

Before I could respond, she walked away with her mother, neither looking like the devious sluts they were. Sadly, it was me who looked like a slut in my current attire. I quickly went to the restroom to see what the cold balls were. In a stall, I opened my hand and saw two metal balls. I sighed. I considered not obeying, but somehow sensed that if I didn't obey her every command the video of me pleasuring myself would go viral. I needed to get her alone, to confront her one on one...but church unfortunately wasn't the place to do it. Reluctantly, I pulled my panties down and awkwardly inserted the metal balls in my frustratingly wet pussy. Why did she make me so wet? 

Once the balls were in, I left the stall and found that with each step, the balls moved inside me, causing teasing pleasure. I returned to my greeting spot, and didn't move until the church service began. 

Slowly, while trying to be casual, I went into the worship area feeling shame at what I was wearing, why I was wearing it and what was inside my vagina. As I watched Mrs. Blair lead the choir, the image of her on her knees flashed into my head. I glanced over to where Bree and her mother were sitting and she was staring at me. I quickly looked away, shame coursing through my very being. All service, every word the minister said seemed to be directed at me and yet I often zoned out as every time I moved my legs, the balls inside me shifted, creating a constant reminder of my current predicament. All service, I tried to figure a way out of this complicated mess and yet every idea that came to my mind included Bree showing compassion...something that seemed unlikely. 

The service coming to an end, I left early to prepare for the new parishioners luncheon. Every movement sent teasing pleasure through me and I wasn't sure how I was going to make it through the entire luncheon. 

I was just about finished getting the cold cuts ready, when the minister's wife, Allison, asked, "Are you okay, Joan?" 

I answered, "Oh, just tired," which was true. 

"Why don't I finish up for you," she said sweetly. 

Thankful to get out of there and get myself off, the balls really beginning to get to me, I agreed, "That would be great. I really am not feeling too well." 

"No problem," she said, continuing where I left off. 

I thanked her again and headed out. Unfortunately, I had barely left the room before I came face to face with a smiling Bree. She asked, "Going somewhere?" 

"Home," I answered. 

"I think you have something of mine," she said. 

"Please, not here," I whispered. 

"Of course," she replied, before adding, "but where?" 

"At my house," I answered quickly, thinking I would have some control of the situation in my home. 

"And what do you plan to do for me at your house?" she asked slyly. 

I wasn't sure what to say to this question. Yet, desperate to take this conversation out of the church and to a less potentially career ending location, I whispered, "Obey." 

"Without hesitation?" Bree questioned. 

"Yes," I whispered, petrified of her outing me. 

"Yes, what?" she asked, testing me. 

I didn't want to say the words, yet I knew this wasn't the place to be defiant, "Yes, Mistress," I whispered. 

"Good girl," she smiled, "I'll meet you at your house in half an hour." 

Yes, Mistress," I nodded, thankful to get out of there with my secret intact. 

"You're welcome," she responded, as if she was doing me a favour. 

I quickly exited the church and went directly to my car. After taking a deep breath, I drove home. Once there, I wracked my brain for ways to convince Bree to not blackmail me. Half an hour, became an hour, as the trepidation continued to rise in me, no real plan formulated. 

Then came the inevitable knock on the door. 

I walked to the door, the balls again reminding me of my submission to her. Taking a breath I opened the door and she asked, "May I come in?" 

"Yes," I nodded. 

"Yes, what?" she questioned, not moving. 

"Yes, Mistress," I reworded, wanting to get her alone. 

She walked in, a duffle bag with her. Once I closed the door, I said, "Bree, we need to make a deal." 

"Agreed," she said. 

"I need that video deleted," I clarified. 

"Knees," she ordered, ignoring my words. 

"Please, I..." I began, but was cut off. 

"Knees, now," she repeated, her tone not angry, but firm. 

I obeyed, a gush of wetness leaking out of my pussy and into my wet panties. 

"Crawl to me," she ordered. 

I again obeyed, my body seemingly leading the way, even as my mind tried to be rational. 

Standing over me in her three inch heels with a gloating expression, on her face, when I reached her, she lifted one foot and ordered, "Take my heel off, my pet." 

I obeyed, hands trembling. 

"Lick the sole of my foot, my pet," she continued. 

I pleaded, "Please, Bree." 

She sighed, "Stand up." 

I did. 

"Don't move!" she ordered, her tone firm as she stood up, pulled my skirt down and said again, "Don't move." 

My body trembled with both anxiety and excitement, the conflicting emotions confusing me even more. 

She ripped a hole in the crotch of my pantyhose and said, as her fingers touched my wet panties and I moaned, "You've been lying to yourself." 

"I'm not a lesbian," I pointed out, which was true, although my fantasies the past couple days had blurred that theory. 

"Neither am I," she shrugged, "but I'm definitely bisexual." 

"I'm not bisexual," I clarified. 

"You didn't know you were bisexual," she corrected, as her finger slid inside my panties and directly into my pussy. 

"Aaaaaaaah," I moaned, having a finger inside me bringing emotions I hadn't felt in a long time. 

"Sooooo wet," she purred, as she pulled out one of the balls and put it in my mouth. 

I coughed and almost choked on it I was so surprised. 

She retrieved the second ball and put it in her mouth. "Hmmmmmm, not bad," she said, a moment later when she took it back out of her mouth. Offering her hand to my mouth, I dropped the ball into it. "I have to ask. For someone who isn't a lesbian, or a bisexual, your cunt is soaking wet. I mean I could probably fist you." 

I stammered, "I-I-I can't explain it." 

"Oh, I can," she smiled, "you are a submissive who dresses as if she isn't." 

"It's not that black and white," I countered and then realized the irony of my response. 

She laughed, as she plunged her fingers inside me, "Oh, I think it is very black and white." 

"Hmmmmmm," I moaned, again not able to control my body's reaction. 

"I'm curious," she pondered, as she slid a third finger inside me. "Ever been fisted?" 

"What? No!" I exclaimed, as she quickly pumped three fingers inside me. 

She leaned in and kissed me. I didn't resist at all. Her lips so soft, I melted into her, giving into the lust that had formed inside me. I felt another finger slip inside me and realized she was going to try and fist me. 

Breaking the kiss, she ordered, "Bend your legs a bit." 

I trembled, my eyes big with fear, "I can't take your fist." 

"I think you can," she countered. 

I obeyed her order again, somehow unable to stand up for myself, bending my legs to an unnatural and awkward position and watched as she easily slipped her whole hand inside me. 

I screamed, "Fuuuuuuck," as my cunt widened and suddenly I wished she was a man with a cock. 

"Want me to fist fuck you?" she asked, looking up at me. 

My cunt burning with need, the ridiculous idea suddenly was deliciously appropriate and I answered, "Yes." 

"Yes, what?" she questioned, yet again. 

Her hand inside me driving me crazy in its stationary state, I answered, drawn completely into the need to come, "Yes, Mistress Bree, fuck my cunt with your fist." 

"You sure?" she asked, pulling her phone out from her skirt. 

I looked at her perplexed at where she could have possibly been hiding her phone. 

She shrugged with a smile, "Thigh high stockings." 

I stared at the phone, knowing she was going to film my declaration, I also knew that she already had me masturbating and if she wanted could destroy me with what she already had, but desperate to come, to be fist-fucked...I stared down at her and repeated, "Yes, Mistress Bree, your black pet wants you to fist fuck her to orgasm." 

"My black pet?" she questioned, looking surprised that I had made it about race. 

Yet, so far gone, I repeated, "Yes, my white goddess, make your black pet your slave." 

"Hmmmm," she purred, "You want to be my slave?" 

"Yessssss," I trembled, desperate to get fist-fucked and drawn into the black and white kink of the submission. 

"What are you?' she asked, wiggling her fingers inside me. 

"Oh, God, a slut, a slave, a pet, whatever you want me to be," I declared, the words unexplainably liberating, as my breathing increased. 

"But I thought you would never submit to me?" she questioned, trying to break me completely or drive me utterly, sexually, insane. 

"Just fist-fuck your nigger," I demanded, and then gasped at the reality I had used the hated 'n' word on myself. 

Before I had time to scold myself for the racist words I had uttered, she began pumping her fist inside me and the brief moment of moral mortification disappeared as a renewed hunger to come overwhelmed my body and mind. I babbled like a bimbo and not like the educated lawyer I was, "Oh God, fuck, yes, faster, harder, shiiit." 

Bree explained a moment later as she suddenly pulled her fist out, "You don't get to come before your Mistress." 

"Noooooo," I whined, the disappointment of her words and actions like a punch in the gut. 

She moved to my couch, pulled off her skirt to reveal she was sans underwear, sat down, and said, "Come begin your training, my pet." 

My body weak, I wobbled over to her, dropped to my knees, and stared at her white shaved pussy. 

"So you have never eaten pussy?" she asked. 

"Nooo," I responded, my pussy twitching still. 

"But you want to right now?" she asked, her phone still directed at me. 

Looking at her pussy lips, slightly wet, I answered, "Yes." 

"Yes, what?" she questioned, always wanting to remind me who she was. 

"Yes, Mistress Bree," I corrected. 

"Yes, Mistress Bree, what?" she questioned further. 

"Yes, Mistress Bree," I continued, looking up at her, wanting to shock her, please her, even though it made no sense, "Your slave wants to eat your pussy." 

"You mean my cunt?" she corrected. 

"Yes, Mistress Bree, your black slave wants to bury her face into your white cunt until you come all over her face," I answered thoroughly, her strong scent drawing me in and creating a sudden hunger to taste her along with an undeniable desire to submit. 

"Lick away, my slave," she ordered. 

I leaned forward, extended my tongue and tasted her. I was stunned by the taste. I had found semen to always be rather bland, occasionally salty, but mostly non-descript...not something I craved or was repulsed by. Yet, as I licked her pussy, parting her pussy lips, I was in awe of the exotic taste: tangy, slightly fishy, and it made me want more. I lapped, wanting more of her nectar. 

Bree moaned, her hands going through my hair, "Pretty eager for a reluctant cunt-licker." 

I couldn't fathom how I had gone in only a couple of days from strong-willed to submissive, from defiant to obedient, from straight to bi, yet as I continued licking, exploring every crevice of her pussy, I was happy I had been pulled out of my tough exterior. 

"You're a natural, pussy pleaser," Bree continued. 

"Thank you," I oddly responded, between licks. 

A couple of minutes later, her breathing beginning to increase, and I began concentrating on her clit, which was what always triggered my orgasms. 

"That's it slut, suck on my clit, get your Mistress off," Bree responded, a few seconds later. 




Lesbian MILF Seductress: Chocolate



I obeyed, wanting to hear her scream, to taste her cum directly from the source. 

She pulled my head deeper into her wetness and began grinding her pussy on my face until I felt a massive gush of cum explode onto my face. I eagerly lapped her sweetness, not able to get enough of the intoxicating taste. I continued licking until she let go of my head and pushed me away, she smiled down at me, "For a straight woman, you sure are an eager cunt licker." 

On my knees, I wasn't sure what would happen next. 

"Do you want to come?" she asked. 

"Yes," I admitted, eating her pussy not squelching my burning cunt at all, if anything it only fanned the flames she had created with her fist. 

"Get on all fours," she ordered, as she went to her duffle bag. 

I obeyed and watched as she put a strap-on cock around her waist. The idea of getting fucked by a strap-on cock, which would have been humiliating two days ago, now had my pussy leaking with anticipation. She moved behind me, pulled my pantyhose apart more and she tugged my panties to the side. Sighing, she asked, "Where would scissors be?" 

"In the kitchen beside the fridge," I answered, confused by the question. 

She walked to the kitchen leaving me all on all fours like a dog in heat. 

She returned a minute later with a glass of milk and scissors. She downed the milk, put the empty glass down and returned behind me. She roughly cut my panties and said, "A good pet doesn't wear panties anyways." 

She tossed the wrecked panties on the ground and without warning slammed the plastic cock in me. 

I moaned loudly, "Yessssssssssss." 

"When was the last time you had a cock in you, my slut?" 

"I donnn't remember," I answered truthfully. 

"Well, that will never be your answer again," she promised, as she began fucking me hard. 

"Kkkkkkkk," I moaned, surrendering to the pleasure. 

She continued fucking me, filling me completely with each forward thrust as my orgasm again began to build at a very expedient pace. 

My breathing getting heavier, my moans louder, she asked, "Do you want to come, Joan?" 

Hearing my name used after all the derogatory names was a quick reminder of who I really was and who she was, yet I was way too far gone to turn back now. "Yes, Mistressssssss," I answered. 

"Ever taken a cock in the ass?" Bree questioned. 

"Once," I admitted, having done so just once, during a drunken encounter in college. 

"Well, time to double that number," she declared, pulling out of me seconds before my orgasm was to hit. 

"Please, Mistress, I'm so close, fuck me, I'll do anything," I whined, begging. 

"I know you will," she agreed, as she went to her duffle bag and grabbed some lube. She also grabbed another strap-on and I watched as she changed into a, thankfully, smaller and thinner cock. 

Returning to me, my body trembling with anticipation for the orgasm that wasn't yet allowed, I silently waited on all fours, willingly allowing my 18-year-old neighbor to sodomize me. The idea was ludicrous, shameful and, in the end, thrilling. 

I felt lube generously run down my ass cheeks, I felt her hands spread my ass and then slowly I felt my ass violated by the plastic cock. 

I whimpered, a dull pain coursing through me, as my ass was filled for the first time in years. Last time I was intoxicated with booze, this time I was intoxicated with insatiable hunger. 

"Such a tight black ass," she purred, as she continued filling me. 

I didn't respond, just focusing on controlling the pleasure-pain principle that was beginning to take over. 

"All in, my pet," she declared a moment later. 

I couldn't explain it, but I wanted more. I wanted to be fucked, to be dominated. I begged, "Please fuck my ass, Mistress." 

She, of course, obliged and soon her body was slamming into mine. 

"Oh yessss," I screamed, as the pleasure overshadowed the pain. 

"Do you want to come, my ass-slut?" she asked a couple of minutes later. 

"Yes, Mistress," I whimpered, as I felt my orgasm building for a third time. 

She ordered, "Fuck yourself to orgasm, Joan." 

I didn't hesitate, as I began bouncing back on the cock. My orgasm was so close, but wouldn't burst, the most intense tease in history. Lust became frustration, as I bounced furiously on the cock in my ass. 

Bree, sensing my excess frustration, pulled out and ordered, "Lie down." 

I quickly did, and taking off the strap-on from her waist, she slid it deep in my ass and then slid her whole fist back into my cunt. 

I screamed, the double penetration creating the most intense pleasure ever, "Fuuuuuck, yes, fist-fuck your sluuuuuuut." 

Seconds later, the dam of years of denial and half-assed orgasms broke as the most intense and most satisfying pleasure I'd ever experienced erupted through me. "Aaaaaaaah, fuuuccccck." 

She kept fisting me throughout my orgasm until I pleaded, the pleasure eventually turning to strange tickling, "Please, stop." 

She pulled her fist out and put her fingers on my lips. I robotically opened my mouth and tasted my own orgasm on her fingers. 

Standing up, Bree looked down at me in a dishevelled mess, "I told you I always get what I want." 

"You blackmailed me," I pointed out. 

"Did I?" she questioned, her foot going to my still twitching pussy. 

"Yes," I said, "you took pictures of me." 

"Did I threaten ever to use them?" she questioned, her toes teasing my pussy lips. 

"No," I realized, replaying the entire submission. I had submitted on my own. 

She continued, tapping my clit, "You submitted of your own free will because you're a submissive." 

Moving her toes to my mouth, I opened and sucked my wetness from her stockings, she added, "A very eager submissive." 

She was right. I didn't know I was submissive, I didn't know I wanted such a sub-domme relationship, yet as I sucked my own juices from her nylon foot it was hard to argue. 

Moving her foot away, she said, "Have a good day, my newest pet." 

"You too," I strangely responded, so exhausted that I knew I was going right to my bedroom for a long nap. 

"You're welcome," she smiled, as she got herself dressed. 

Her pretentiousness back, yet I was thankful. I didn't say it though. She had enough power over me, I didn't need to add to it. 

She said, when dressed, "I think my mom wants to see you later tonight." 

My face went red at the full breadth of her web of submission. 

Before I could respond, although I wasn't sure what I would say, she left me alone. I weakly stood up, made it to my bedroom and collapsed on my bed. 

As I quickly drifted into slumber, I wondered when I would next see Bree...she had opened up a side of me I didn't know existed, a side that, now that it has been unleashed, was impossible to put back in the kennel. 

THE END