Authors: Paisley Smith
“What did you think about while you were touching yourself?”
Vivien asked seductively.
Polly debated lying but part of her wanted to see what
Vivien’s reaction would be if she told her the bald truth. “I was thinking
about fucking you.”
The dim light sparked in Vivien’s eyes, but only for an
instant before she reverted to the cool, cocky male once more. “Tell me. Don’t
leave out any details.”
Polly’s stomach clenched. “I imagined you’d bent me over
your lap and spanked me. Hard. So hard I used my safeword. You stopped and
brushed away my tears and told me to get in the bed with you. Then you took my
hand and guided it between your legs. You were soaking wet and you asked me to
finger you. I did and you—”
“What’d my cunt feel like inside?”
“Like…like wet velvet. Hot. You—you sighed when I slid my
finger inside to stroke your G-spot. You told me how good it felt. And then
you…kissed me.”
“Where?” Vivien asked. Her voice sounded hoarse.
“On the mouth. I straddled you and used my hips to push
against my hand while I fingered you. We kissed the whole time until you—until
I felt you coming.”
“What happened after that?” Vivien’s knee tensed and her
eyebrows furrowed slightly, making Polly wonder if she was wearing one of those
strap-ons with two heads. Maybe three.
“Then you ate my pussy,” Polly told her boldly.
Vivien stared. Her hand stopped stroking the cock. “Come here.”
Polly’s muscles protested when she moved to crawl. Fighting
the stiffness, she crossed the floor. Vivien scooted up on the sofa and patted
her thighs. “Over my lap.”
Polly’s pulse ran wild as she positioned herself over her Mistress’s
lap. The wool trousers scratched her belly. The thick dildo nudged her side.
Blood rushed to her head as she planted her palms on the floor, offering up her
ass for punishment.
Vivien caressed her hair and her back before moving to her
bottom. Each sweep of her hand grew more and more familiar, easing
threateningly into her cleft. “You’ve been a naughty girl.”
“Yes Ma’am.” Excitement fired through Polly’s veins. When
Vivien’s fingertip pushed insistently against her rosette Polly instinctively spread
and rolled her hips toward the sinister intrusion.
“I am going to spank you,” Vivien said. “And then I’m going
to fuck you with this big dick.”
A shudder rippled down Polly’s spine.
“In the ass.”
Polly’s breath froze in her lungs. A finger or a plug was
one thing. That dildo was altogether something different.
Reaching underneath her, Vivien latched on to one of Polly’s
nipples. She kneaded and pinched it with the perfect amount of cruelty as she
delivered several hard smacks to Polly’s backside.
Polly squirmed, simultaneously wanting more and fearing she
couldn’t withstand it.
Both ass cheeks blazed hot. She bit her bottom lip to keep
from crying out and the torsion on her nipple fused the connection between her
clit, her butt and her tits.
Finally the sweet torture stopped. Polly sagged, gasping for
air. She floated, basking in the heat throbbing like a heartbeat in her bottom.
She wanted to curl against Vivien, to kiss her and thank her for the spanking
she’d been dying for since she’d masturbated the day before. Vaguely aware, she
heard a flip cap being opened. She jerked as cold, greasy lube came in contact
with her pussy and then her anus.
Something narrow—a nozzle—slid inside her there and she felt
the cool goo filling her bottom. The nozzle slipped out, leaving her hungry for
more.
“Stand and bend over the back of the sofa,” Vivien
commanded.
Polly’s channel squeezed in anticipation as she got on her
feet and bent, placing her hands on the back of the sofa. Light played in the
shimmering lube Vivien had slathered on the dildo. When she stood she peeled
her trousers down, revealing a tight black harness and the jutting cock.
Polly’s suspicions were confirmed. The strap-on was made to pleasure them both
simultaneously. Bulges in the crotch of the harness indicated Vivien was plugged
in both her cunt and ass.
After stepping out of her trousers she moved behind Polly.
Fearing she would come without permission, Polly tensed as
the thick cock head burrowed through her crease. When it prodded her pussy she
pushed back, wanting it.
Craving it.
She trembled uncontrollably as it eased into her channel,
stretching her so that she felt every unyielding inch. Her head dropped when
Vivien’s hips countered hers and rocked sensuously. Polly’s nails dug into the
leather. Her clit ached with the need to be rubbed. She wanted to come so badly
tears spilled down her cheeks.
A soft, feminine hand braced itself on her spine, the
sensation contrasting the hard cock buried to the balls in her cunt.
“Have you ever taken a cock in the ass?” Vivien’s voice was
rough.
“No Ma’am.” Polly had always fantasized about it, but had
never actually done it. She’d enjoyed the fullness of the plugs, but fear
choked her that the big dildo would hurt.
A finger slid up Polly’s ass and she moaned at the delicious
heaven of being filled in two holes at once.
“I’m going to fuck your ass.” Vivien’s threat sent shivers
through Polly’s limbs.
“I can’t take it in there,” Polly whimpered.
“I think you can.”
Polly’s heart pounded in her throat as the cock slid out of
her pussy. The finger eased out of her ass and then the tip of the dildo circled
her rim before nudging the opening.
“I can’t!” she cried. But even as she protested, the tip
penetrated her. A white-hot ring of pain raced around her rim. Gritting her
teeth, she debated uttering her safeword.
It wasn’t too bad. It wasn’t too much.
Not yet.
Vivien took her time, allowing Polly to adjust to the
invasion.
“It hurts,” Polly insisted as the dildo inched farther
inside. “Please…”
In truth she welcomed the slight, sharp pain as her body
submitted to her Mistress’s whims. She had disobeyed. She deserved this. She
wanted to be disciplined. To know Vivien was looking down on that thick toy,
penetrating her ass.
Her inner tissue yielded and awakened to the intrusion. Any
pain she’d experienced ebbed. The sensation and knowledge that Vivien was
fucking her in the ass fused into a heady desire that made juices trickle onto
the tops of her thighs.
In. Out. In again. This time deeper.
Polly’s pulse roared in her ears.
“My cock is all the way inside your ass.” Vivien pumped her
hips, slowly at first and then faster.
An orgasm lurked just out of reach. Polly mewled, wishing
she could use her fingers, desperate to rub her clit. She clawed at the back of
the sofa.
“Do you need to come?” Vivien asked.
“Yes Ma’am.” Oh God, her Mistress was about to come too.
“Touch yourself,” Vivien rasped. “Do it now. Come, Polly.”
Polly rubbed her slick clit furiously. Almost as soon as her
fingers came in contact with her flesh ecstasy crashed over her. The dildo
seemed to swell as her ass clamped down around it. Her loud moans echoed off
the walls as she milked her body for every last ounce of pleasure.
Vivien’s fingers trembled and dug into her hips. Rough
breaths fanned her back, and the knowledge her Mistress was coming with her
carried the intensity of Polly’s orgasm higher and higher.
* * * * *
They met twice, sometimes three times a week, though Vivien
had never again allowed the intimate conversation Polly had enjoyed during her
second visit. Vivien somehow intuited her unspoken needs, delivering spankings
with perfect precision, clamping Polly’s nipples to the point where pain tinged
pleasure, plugging her ass so that Polly felt empty and naked when she was
wasn’t wearing something in her butt.
She obeyed without question, becoming the ideal sub both in
and out of the studio. In return Vivien lavished praise on her. She stroked
Polly’s hair and cheeks and soothed her paddle-stung bottom.
Though Polly looked forward to Mallory’s plans for the
Honkytonk Angels she didn’t want to imagine the day when Vivien would deem her
trained and release her.
Polly skipped up the three steps and pulled open the door to
the restaurant banquet room. Mallory had invited her to a get-together. She’d
guessed everyone here would be involved in the music industry, but quickly
realized this wasn’t what she’d imagined.
She looked down in dismay at her bright floral-print frock
she’d paired with hot-pink pumps. She stood out in the crowd of male and female
professionals who all looked as if they’d just stepped out of their corner
offices.
Smiling, Mallory swept toward her, glass of Chardonnay in
hand. “Oh, darling!” she called in her polished British accent. “You made it.
Love the retro vibe.”
She gave her an obligatory hug and quick peck on the cheek.
“I would have dressed a little differently had I known—”
Polly began over the strains of the Patsy Cline song pumped in over the stereo
system.
“Nonsense. You look lovely. Besides, there are a couple of
movers and shakers in the industry to whom I’d like to introduce you. Believe
me, darling, you’ll be remembered.”
Polly didn’t know if that was necessarily a good thing, but
she moved into the crowd on Mallory’s arm, nodding and smiling and trying to
commit all the new names and faces to memory as she was presented.
“How’s it working out with Vivien?” Mallory asked as they
moved from one gathering to the next.
Heat flared in Polly’s neck at the mention of her Mistress. “V-very
well.”
Patsy’s plaintive voice filled the room as Polly recognized
one of her favorite songs of unrequited love.
Fall to Pieces
.
“Excellent. I thought it’d be a good pairing. Vivien so
needed the distraction after that messy breakup.” Mallory arched an eyebrow and
then turned her head, drawing Polly’s attention across the room to where Vivien
stood chatting with a woman Polly recognized from the media.
I fall to pieces…
Her lips parted in realization. Vivien and Claire Barnes?
This was the client Vivien had dated? Polly cut her gaze at Mallory in unspoken
question.
Claire Barnes was famously—married. And straight?
Mallory merely arched an eyebrow. Seconds later someone
called her name and Mallory excused herself before she whisked off across the
room.
Polly found a spot where she could observe unnoticed.
Sliding onto a barstool, she watched Vivien’s exchange through the fronds of a
fake potted tree.
Other than their initial meeting Polly had never observed
her Mistress outside the studio. It seemed strange to watch her moving about,
interacting with normal people in the regular world. With her raven hair softly
finger-waved, and wearing her trademark ruby-slipper-red lipstick, Vivien
looked as if she’d been plucked out of time and dropped into the twenty-first
century. Beautiful and flawless, she looked too glamorous for the other people
in the room, too fine.
Her black dress had to be vintage, not to mention designer.
Doubtless Chanel. The cut had been tailored perfectly to fit her hourglass
figure. Her fingers tightened around her clutch as she spoke to the politician.
Her thumb worried the clasp.
Claire stood close enough to indicate a history but her
posture was completely guarded. Arms crossed, she leaned slightly back, her
sharp features hard and set as if she were determined to keep Vivien at a
distance.
Now that she knew, Polly wondered how she’d ever not known
Claire Barnes was a lesbian. It was obvious. Her coltish figure. Her angular
cheekbones and jawline. Those squared shoulders even her pale designer suit
couldn’t disguise.
A spark of jealousy flared in Polly’s chest, surprising her
in its intensity. Where was that coming from? She had no right to be jealous of
a woman with whom she wasn’t romantically involved. But still, images filled
her head of Claire Barnes naked and bound, moaning under Vivien’s expertly
wielded lash.
Polly blinked to chase away the vision but when she opened her
eyes again, there they stood. Even from here Vivien blinked as if she were near
tears. Claire shook her head and took a step backward and then another woman
approached and possessively touched Claire’s arm. The simple contact wouldn’t
have been noticed by anyone else, but Polly saw the way the politician shifted
toward her…lover.
A few words were exchanged and then Vivien swept past them
toward the restrooms.
I fall to pieces…
Polly’s first reaction was to follow but she stopped
herself. It wasn’t her place to comfort Vivien. But all she wanted to do was
crush Vivien in an embrace and kiss away her sadness. The need consumed Polly
so hard she began to shake.
Fuck it.
She followed after Vivien.
Polly thought she would be prepared to find her Mistress
shaken but composed. But when she pushed open the door to the restroom she
discovered Vivien sagged against the wall, her face upturned and tears
streaming in rivulets down her perfectly powdered face.
Polly’s heart melted and without words she rushed across the
space and drew Vivien into her arms.
Vivien resisted but only for a split second before she
wilted into the comforting embrace. A sob racked her shoulders. “I’ve shed
enough tears for her.” She pulled away and swiped at the dampness with the
backs of her hands.
Polly’s own eyes stung to see her Mistress in such obvious
pain. She knew better than to ask questions, even to comment.
Vivien sniffed and then let out a self-deprecating groan. “I
thought I was over her.”
Polly reached for a tissue but instead of handing it to her
she dabbed Vivien’s cheeks with it. “I’ve got some powder in my purse…”
Her words trailed off when the look in Vivien’s eyes
instantaneously shifted from sad to penetrating. Her pupils dilated, the black
almost obliterating the mossy green. Her vulnerability seeped away and was
replaced with a predatory sensuality that made Polly’s stomach somersault.
Her gaze dropped to Vivien’s lips.
Vivien was going to kiss her and though Polly knew she
should do everything to prevent it—knew they’d both regret it—she allowed the
kiss to happen.
Vivien’s wealth of black lashes fluttered downward as she
tilted her head and leaned in, closing the scant distance between them. At that
moment Vivien ceased to be a Mistress, a dominatrix. Control evaporated,
transforming her into a soft, vulnerable woman.
Polly trembled as her hands skimmed the rough fabric of
Vivien’s dress, molding to the soft curves of a narrow waist and the blossom of
feminine hips. She smelled like expensive perfume and the hint of a vodka
martini, like powder and luxurious hair products. Though they’d shared the most
intimate of moments, they’d never experienced one as fragile, as perilous—as
sweet—as this.
They’d never kissed.
Until now.
Vivien’s lips were as soft as Polly had imagined. Brushing,
testing. A soft, wet tongue ventured out to taste, to part and then suddenly to
invade.
Vivien hauled Polly against her, crushing her, claiming her
mouth with penetrating hunger. Polly whimpered, opening for the plundering
tongue. An invisible ribbon of desire fused between her mouth, her nipples, her
pussy. She dragged Vivien’s hips to hers and rocked against them, mons to mons.
Fingers speared into the fine hairs at Polly’s nape, a palm holding her head
captive and those baby-soft lips continued working their magic.
Drunk on need, Polly moaned. Vivien was kissing her. It was
really happening. Her heat grew wings and soared. Vivien wanted her. And in
this magical moment nothing else mattered except getting this woman naked and
into a bed.
Voices sounded just outside the door and Vivien pulled away
so abruptly that Polly stumbled. Confused, she blinked, trying to bring herself
back to the present.
Vivien stood at the mirror, reaching into her clutch for a
compact. Already she had every hair back in place, her lipstick reapplied to
utter perfection.
Two women entered the lounge area and passed through to the
restrooms. Dazed, Polly watched as Vivien dabbed a powder puff over her nose,
chin and forehead and then returned it to the compact and then to her clutch.
She straightened and inhaled before her gaze sought Polly’s. “I apologize.”
“No. No… I wanted—”
Vivien started toward the door without looking back. “My
behavior was unprofessional. Again, I apologize.” She hesitated for a moment
and then left.
Polly cast a hateful glance toward the restrooms. If those
two gals hadn’t come in…
Damn it!
She clenched her fists. Vivien’s taste still lingered on her
lips. She could still smell that exquisite perfume. She’d known better. Nothing
could have come of it. Whatever chemistry they shared in the studio, in real
life they moved in different worlds.
Vivien was a professional. She was her Mistress. Not her
lover. Polly would do well to remind herself of it.
She blinked against tears that surprised her. She’d confused
her physical needs with something else…something she’d never before known. That
was all.
In the other room a toilet flushed. Realizing she had to get
out of here before the women came back in she rushed to the sink and rinsed her
hands, dried them and then scurried out of the lounge.
Mallory almost ran into her. “Darling!” she exclaimed. “Good
news.”
Polly lifted an eyebrow in question, but her gaze drifted
over Mallory’s shoulder. Vivien was nowhere to be seen.
Seemingly oblivious, Mallory continued. “Vivien released
you. She says you’ve completed the training and are approved. Bravo, darling!”
Polly’s lips parted as the full implication sank straight to
her toes. She shook her head. “No—I’m not ready. I… Where’s Vivien? Did she
leave?”
“Yes.” Mallory gestured toward the door. Her hand drifted
back to her side and her eyes narrowed knowingly. The hint of a smile played on
one corner of her mouth. “A little something going on between you two? More
than just a professional relationship?”
Polly pursed her lips to stop them from trembling. “No.” She
swallowed thickly. “No, nothing like that. I just… I just didn’t think I was
ready.”
Mallory reached out and thumbed the corner of Polly’s mouth.
“A little red there, clashing with your pink.” She smiled perceptively. “You
know, love? You may not have realized it, but one of the things you should’ve
learned from your time with Vivien is that it’s okay to ask for what you want.”
* * * * *
Vivien somehow kept the tears from falling until she was
safely back in her loft. Once she closed her front door her poise dissolved.
She sagged down to the floor and plopped onto her bottom before giving into
gut-wrenching sobs.
This day couldn’t possibly get any worse.
Seeing Claire had been bad enough. At first there’d been that
same thrill, those familiar butterflies. The chemistry…
Time and again Vivien had considered how she’d handle the
inevitable meeting. She’d even contemplated whether she’d be willing to make
the concession Claire had demanded. A clandestine relationship. No strings. No
commitment. No one could ever know.
Those requirements had compelled Vivien to hold out, to
refuse to settle. But now…
No. She didn’t want that. She couldn’t accept it. What she
wanted was a woman who would be her partner, her lover. Someone who’d be by her
side, on her arm.
Someone like…Polly.
Vivien tilted her head back and stared up at the tin
ceiling. She’d kissed Polly. Kissed her!
Dear God…
At the time it had seemed the right thing to do. Polly had
been so willing to comfort her. She’d been there for her. Unlike Claire, who
seemed only to be concerned with her career and that damned beard of a husband.
Thoughts of Claire drifted to the background.
Polly. Sweet, pretty, blonde, innocent Polly.
Vivien should never have allowed herself that moment of
weakness. Especially with a client.
Her eyes closed and the memory of that kiss washed back over
her. The concern in Polly’s chocolate gaze had made her feel…safe. Wanted.
Cherished. All those things wrapped up in a pair of the most luscious pink lips
Vivien had ever tasted.
For the first time since her breakup with Claire Vivien
found herself wanting to get to know someone, wanting to experience firsts.
What would Polly be like outside the studio?
What did she like to eat? What music did she enjoy? She
wanted to know everything and more.
Vivien hadn’t realized how much she ached to have someone in
her life.
She slipped off her heels and stood. The tears had given her
a sort of a renewal that was past due. She padded into the bathroom and washed
her face, stripping away the lipstick, powder, the lashes and thick, retro
liner. Afterward she looked at her reflection. Bared. Vulnerable.
Was she lovable this way?
Could she possibly share something special with Polly?
Her phone chimed. She reached for it, her heart skipping a
beat when she saw the text was from Polly.
I’ve been bad, Ma’am. I masturbated, thinking about the
kiss we shared. I need to be punished.
Warmth rushed into Vivien’s cheeks. She resisted the smile
that played havoc with her lips.
And then she began to type a response.
* * * * *
Heart hammering, Polly kneeled, fingers interlaced behind
her back. Uncharacteristically Vivien had told her to arrive at nine that night
instead of in the morning—the very night Polly had sent her the provocative
text.
She’d been waiting for nearly ten minutes. Her shoulders
ached. Her thighs burned. Anticipation gnawed at her, awakening every nerve
ending. Pain was the only thing keeping her rooted in the moment, in her body.
What was this need to be in Vivien’s presence? This
infatuation was dangerous because Polly knew it could so easily result in
heartache. Vivien had laid out her rules in the beginning. Rules that had been
specific.