4 comments/ 51800 views/ 10 favorites Mistress X By: ZinniaX I met her at a cocktail party I went to for business, and was immediately stricken by her commanding presence. She had a tall, voluptuous figure with dark hair and exquisitely tailored clothes, and was introduced as the wife of someone in upper management, but I quickly forgot who. I didn't recognize his name, and really, that had no meaning for me. We got on immediately, and I found that she was brilliant as well as gorgeous... Brilliant, married and gorgeous. The cocktail party was at the home of one of the firm's bosses, and was one of the mixers they throw occasionally for the law offices where I work. I'd started there a year ago, and was still a little green around the ears. I played my cards close to the vest, and didn't try to let people get to know me too well. So, as I got further lost in conversation with the wife of someone important, the thought crossed my mind that I might want to rethink where this could easily lead if she were at all willing. Partially through the evening, she pulled me aside to a table filled with people I didn't know, and introduced me to them all. They invited us to join them, and I was slightly disappointed that she had broken up our intimate conversation. "Thank you so much for allowing us to join you, we'd been standing all evening," she said graciously. "Not at all," an older grey-haired man I recognized as one of the partners of the firm responded. As polite talk continued, it all began to fade out when she, Mrs. X, reached out and put her hand gently on my thigh. I involuntarily drew in a brief gasp, the touch like a jolt of electricity, unexpected in its timing. I made my face like stone and attempted to carry on the conversation as I felt her hand reaching under my skirt, and beginning its decent toward my quickly dampening pussy. She discreetly made her way to my cunt, rubbing over my panties slowly and gently. Quickly I knew, there was no way I could take this publicly, and not respond. No way I could let this continue sitting at the table making small talk with one of the firm partners in attendance. I reached down, took her hand and pulled it gently away. Almost simultaneously, I rose. "Pardon me, I need to visit the powder room." Mrs. X rose as well, "I'll join you." Some of the men at the table rose as we left, but I was only aware of the tall gorgeous woman following close behind me, heat and sexual energy coursing from her into me. We walked in step without thinking toward the powder room, both knowing what we had in store, and that the desire was mutual. The anticipation of the walk made me go a little slower, as I imagined her biting my nipples and crying out in climax. She suddenly was next to me, grabbed my hand, and pulled me into the washroom. I relieved to glance around and find it empty, but my attention was quickly refocused. Mrs. X pulled me close and kissed me with utterly endearing and overwhelming passion. Her tongue felt soft and warm in my mouth but she flicked it expertly, bringing it alive, making me imagine it in my cunt. I quickly gave myself over to her, practically swooning in my inability to access the logical part of my brain, completely forgetting that I was hardly out at work, I wasn't even entirely sure what my sexuality was, just that I was sexual. Mrs. X pushed me into one of the stalls, and I was grateful that she had that sense of decency. I would have done whatever she had wanted, for certain, but I couldn't lose my job. Her hands were running over my body, as mine were over hers. I massaged her gorgeous full breasts until I felt the nipples begin to harden under her little black dress. Her hands had ventured further south. She pulled down my sopping wet panties and buried her hand in the folds of my vagina, running her fingers up and down, then flicking and tapping my bud. I was caught off guard at the speed that this unexpected train of events had taken place, and did everything I could to repress the gasps and moans that were inadvertently escaping my lips. She closed her mouth over mine to mute my cries while her fingers did their rhythmic dance below. I began to ride her hand, eager to have her deeper inside me. She plunged two fingers into my vagina and I shuddered with pleasure. Suddenly she dropped to her knees, and was sucking at my pussy with her lips and flicking my clit with her tongue. I couldn't think couldn't breathe, could only focus on the blissfull sensations being provided by Mrs. X. She was clearly talented and had learned her craft well. I gripped the edge of the sanity when suddenly, it was too much, I felt myself reaching climax, as her tongue lapped up the juices pouring from my cunt, and her hand work to penetrate me. Finally, the world burst with light, and juices flowed from my pussy, raining on her beautiful face. She opened her mouth to catch them, showing me how much she relished my taste. She then pulled up, and kissed me, the taste of my own cunt still in her mouth. Somehow, that made the taste of her lips even more intoxicating. I once again lost myself in her mouth as she pressed herself against me. As we kissed, she reached down and slowly and deliberately removed her own panties, which were completely drenched. "Lie down", She commanded me. "Why?" I asked her. "Because I told you to", she snapped, more firmly than I had expected. I dropped to my knees and lay on the carpet as she had commanded, surprised at the sudden severe tone. I lay down on my back, on the carpeted floor of the washroom, still in my blue cocktail dress, and worried that it would get damaged. "Get on your hands and knees", she demanded. I obeyed without question this time, realising that I never should have done otherwise. Knowing that she was in control from the beginning, and I never should have questioned that. "Pull the skirt of your dress up so that I can see that lovely ass." I did as commanded, pulling up my skirt so that my ass and vagina were both exposed. I turned around when I heard her rummaging through the drawers of the bathroom, and I saw her emerge with a rectangular paddle-style hair brush. "Now, by questioning me, you broke a rule. You should never question me. For breaking that rule, you are going to be punished. Do you understand?" I looked at the hairbrush and back at the face of Mrs. X reluctantly. I felt myself shiver with shame and anticipation, guilt and pleasure. I had never been spanked before, and I didn't doubt that Mrs. X meant to change that. "Yes, I understand." "Yes Mistress". "Yes Mistress." I repeated. "Turn back around", Mrs. X instructed. I faced the floor once again, and felt my pussy throb as it anticipated the first blow. I braced myself, then suddenly was hit. Mrs. X brought the hairbrush down in a methodical pattern, covering my posterior with rectangular red markings. Each strike sent flames shooting through me. My cunt felt engorged, and I could feel its juices running down my thighs. I'd never known this kind of pain, this kind of pleasure. She continued to rain blow after blow on my backside, and I felt another orgasm building. I pushed my buttocks up to meet the blows, feeling her bearing down on me with everything she had. Finally I was lost in an orgasm so powerful I saw stars, bursting juices all over the bathroom floor. "Aren't you a naughty girl. Look at that mess you made. You'll have to clean that up afterward. But first, you have to lie in it." Still on my hands and knees and shaking, I tried to catch my breath. I rolled over and laid down in my own sticky mess. No longer worried about my dress, no longer worried about anything but her, the beautiful Mistress X standing above me. Suddenly, she was standing over me, her ass and cunt lined up with my face. She crouched down over me so that my mouth was locked with her sex. I was so eager to taste and lick her cunt. Its salty sweet juices felt amazing in my mouth. I heard her gasp when I found her button and began running my tongue quickly back and forth over it. I suddenly felt her bearing down, pressing herself into my mouth and moving her ass over my face. I lost myself in her pussy, made love to her cunt with everything that I was. I all wanted was to please her bring her pleasure. I didn't even notice at first that I could barely breath. She bore down on me further, then leaned forward, and once again stimulated my cunt while I ate her out and loss access to my airwaves. Her cunt grinded my face harder, and both hands worked rhythmically in my pussy. I felt one final orgasm building, echoed by her cries of ecstasy; cries that were impossible for me. Finally, we came together, she cried out and buckled, and sprayed on my face, as her juices ran down my chin. Wave after wave of orgasm wracked my body, and I finally lost consciousness for lack of air. Mistress Z's Game -Rest Area 3- With that text, my Mistress began the game. We have been playing the game for several years now. It started several years ago when Mistress traveled to a gig with me in a town a couple of hours away. On the way home, like usual, I stopped in the rest area along the freeway and exchanged my performance clothes for more casual fare -- with a lot of fondling along the way. While sitting in the car, it is pretty impossible for someone to really see anything unless they are looking hard, so it is a pretty safe thing to do, public-decency-wise. Mistress enjoyed the fact that I got this naked in so public a place, and filed away the fact for future reference. "Future reference" came about two weeks later, when I needed to make the same trip, unaccompanied. "Are you stopping at the same place to change?" Mistress asked. "I assume so. It's a pretty good place at that time in the evening." I replied. "Let me pack a bag for you to change into, then," she said with a smirk, that I spelled certain doom for me. She met me at the door a few minutes later with a small packed suitcase and a small luggage lock. "We're going to play a game, here are the rules. On the way home, you will stop and remove all of your clothes and put them in this suitcase. You will lock it with this lock, for which I am not giving you the key. Only then will you open the cloth bag and put on the clothing you find inside. Since you will not be able to get back into your suitcase, you might want to plan your stops accordingly. Oh, and send me a photo on your cell with a picture of the lock on the suitcase before you change, and a picture of yourself afterwards." With that she gave me a kiss and sent me on my way. Mistress has a sense of humor, but I never really appreciated how much until that day. Naked and wanting to quickly get clothed in the car, and with great trepidation about what lay inside, I opened the bag that first time to find: panties and stockings, sure, the bra I kind of expected -- but the pirate dress with the bloomers and corset were a big surprise. But, knowing better than to disobey, I put it all on. And getting that corset on in the car was a bitch! I never knew what would be in the bag when we played the game. Sometimes it would involve a dress or heels or women's underwear. Of course various plugs and cock cages were included on occasion, as well as nipple clamps, vibrators and various other toys. One time it included nothing but a spool of rope and instructions to outfit myself with a body harness (leading to a very restrained remainder of a weekend at home). Other times it would involve some bizarre costume designed to humiliate me. Once it came with a pair white, light cotton slacks and a thin tan colored dress shirt, a red thong and a red bra that stood out like a sore thumb underneath -- and a shopping list for a grocery store on the way home. The biggest surprise was, of course, the time when she just put my normal clothes in the bag. OK, she did cut them off me after restraining me to the bed when I got home, but it was still a surprise seeing them at first. Mistress gradually began to assert herself more and more in the game. I no longer got to decide where I would stop; she made those choices for me. She had a short hand for the places she determined it would be safe for me to change that she would text to me while I was playing the gig. I often was not allowed to park in the driveway and sneak in the house. More often I would have to park down the street and walk home -- especially on the evenings I was wearing heels! I had a feeling that we were about to take things to a new level, though, when the bag she handed me as we kissed on my usual mad dash out the door was suspiciously light. I had no time to give it much thought at the time, as I was late as usual, but it did cost me a little concentration while I was playing. I checked the text message as I was packing to leave. Rest Area 3 meant that I would be 2/3 of the way home before I got any idea what was in store for me tonight. I had a feeling I was going to be pretty happy I didn't have to work tomorrow, though. I pulled into my usual spot, and removed my clothes and locked them up as always. The cloth bag inside the suit case seemed empty, so I almost overlooked the pair of white satin panties. I slipped them on and sent off my photo, as commanded. I was shocked to receive a text back, right away. Mistress had never done this before. -Go to the back parking area. You will find a red cone in a parking space. Move it and park there. You will find another bag in the back seat. Follow the directions in the bag.- I found the designated space in the back corner of the rest area. It was pretty dark, as the light had burnt out, and was near a grove of trees. I dug two bags out of the wheel well behind me labeled "One" and "Two." Opening bag one, I found three pair of wet panties in a plastic bag, a roll of bondage tape, and a note. "We have heard enough of your jabbering tonight. Do take care of that, would you?" That was clear enough. I removed the panties from the bag and stuffed them all tightly into my mouth. Using the entire roll of bondage tape, I sealed my lips and jaw tightly closed with loops over my head and across my mouth. Bag number two held a bunch of canvas webbing and a blindfold. Attached to the webbing were several Velcro straps and a pair of handcuffs. The note in the bag had no instructions, just a picture of how the webbing attached to a picnic table. The straps wrapped around the top of the table. There were vertical straps that had cuffs for ankles and knees, holding the legs far apart. A horizontal web had the handcuffs attached, stretched far over the head. I could just make out a picnic table in front of me underneath the trees. A short while later, I was laying on top of the table with my legs stretched wide apart and velcroed in place, a blindfold tightly over my eyes, and my hands cuffed above me. I lay quietly on the table (what choice did I have) for a long time. I could feel the wind gently moving the hair on my body, and a slight rain drizzled, probably making the panties superfluous. In the distance I could hear the occasional car door open and close, or a truck rumble on the freeway. But all I could do was wait. It seemed like an hour had gone by, when I felt a light touch on my ankle. A finger nail lightly scraped up my thigh, and then gently massaged my cock through the panties. In very short order, I was harder than I had ever been in my life. "What do we have here?" came a soft voice by my ear. I started to get very worried. I didn't know this voice. To be continued?