SlavesofMistressDespoiler (15 page)

“No,” she stated firmly, and drew back the rounded tips to let them rest on Lynn’s lips and press gently forward. The soft painted flesh parted of its own accord and let the digits slide into the wet cavern beyond.

“That’s a good, slave. Show your appreciation,” she purred.

Lynn closed her lips to the digits and suckled. Treating them with a respect and adoration beyond fellatio, the latex set free its spicy tang across her mouth. Her tongue lapped at the smoothed rods, her lips clamping to them and sucking with verve. Her eyes rolled back as her breasts were teased once more. The Mistress continued with her free hand while keeping Lynn’s head forcibly up and rewarding her with the delightful treat of her fingers.

The flames of her desire for the Mistress were consuming Lynn from within. Her loins were damp with desire and placing subtle marks to the folds of her skirt. Nothing had ever come close to this level of intoxicating fervour and its effects were sweeping through her psyche, seducing her into more, banishing any hint of denial or refusal. She was ready to do anything, submit to anything. If the Mistress asked for her soul, she would have handed it over unconditionally for a single kiss to her rubber-entombed rear.

Slight pinches increased the fanatic devotion to the fingers. Lines of saliva escaped the corners of her mouth as she diligently toiled.

“My, you are wanton thing. I had no idea my slave was so lustful,” purred the Mistress. “I can see I’m going to have to be strict indeed with you. Train you to be obedient. Punish you when you are bad, and most other times just to certain. Of course, I’ll reward you when you’re good though. Would you like that, slave?” she murmured with phlegmatic tones, squeezing one of Lynn’s breasts as she spoke.

A wild nodding fit made Lynn’s mouth swallow the fingers from tip to knuckle.

“Such enthusiasm,” commented the Mistress, and her hand started to wander down, tracing across the vinyl and rope. Lynn’s eyes flashed open during the descent. Her eyes fixed up as she sucked and anticipated what she was desperate for. The black ceiling was like a starless night sky above her, its depths influenced by the cosy radiance of the candles, each of them spreading a yellow haze upon it. Lynn closed her eyes and prayed to these artificial heavens for what she was craving most.

The smooth fingers fell onto either side of the rope and started to play with the area. Pulling gently at the rope she moved the knot back and forth, or in beating circles. The Mistress also occasionally slipped a finger under the strand and rolled the digit up and down across the hidden lips of Lynn’s sex.

Lynn gurgled and choked, beset by storms of unprecedented ecstasy. The feel of being so expertly pleasured by another woman, someone so in tune with her needs was now beyond bliss. She wriggled in her plexus of ropes, the vinyl dress wet with sweat as she continued to feast on the Mistress’ fingers.

The hand in her eager mouth started to lower, bringing her face down as her loins were played. Then the Mistress started to slowly bring her hand back, drawing Lynn forward if she wanted to continue kissing them. The movement brought the slave to the awaiting lips of the dominatrix.

Lynn momentarily held her breath. She was unable to believe that this was occurring. With devotion she obeyed and followed the retreating hand to be delivered to her owners poised maw.

When their flesh met, Lynn felt like she was melting from within. A pull at the rope made it sink into her sex and her gasp was smothered as the Mistress sealed her own mouth to that of her slave’s.

Letting Lynn go only as far as she wished, the Mistress waited while Lynn’s tongue cautiously emerged. Hesitant and full of second thoughts and doubt, the continuing manipulation of her belly ate away such questioning and the wet organ touched lips to petition entry. Opening her mouth, the Mistress returned the kiss. Their tongues extended to coil on each other. Lynn’s racing breath was rampant as the Mistress continued her caresses, adding the free hand to her breasts to further elevate her gratification.

Lost to passion, Lynn squirmed and wriggled in her bonds, shaking with delight.

There was a barely audible click and a clover clamp was placed to her nipple. The Mistress slew the resulting croak of dismay with a delving tongue. The spike of initial pain melted away and was smothered beneath silken sheets of pleasure.

The other clamp was set in place, the gloss dress a feeble protection from their virulent effects. Lynn had eagerly used them on the slave, and now was being treated to their effects as well. Although, when served up by the Mistress they were a welcome treasure, almost a reward.

The havoc they installed started to settle, dropping through sensual octaves into a deep resonant thump, which sent ripples of sensation through her breasts. She whimpered again when the Mistress pulled the chain that connected them to briefly revive their more potent effects.

The hand at her belly reached back, unfastened the leash and transferred it to her collar.

The Mistress pulled back and Lynn was left stranded in the air. Her lips were still puckered, her senses lost in the maelstrom of decadence. It took Lynn a moment for her to realise that the Mistress had moved back, and then her eyes snapped open to wonder what was wrong.

“Stand up, slave,” she ordered. Pulling at the leash she assisted Lynn in fighting her way back upright. Was she going to be taken upstairs? Was she going to be permitted an exchange of greater involvement? The thought of it was intense but frightening. She had never slept with a woman before. What if she failed to please the Mistress? Questioning her sexual preference and prowess, Lynn was led to the wall and placed to face it.

“Spread your legs, slave,” stated the Mistress, causing Lynn to shuffle her heeled boots apart. Her balance was restored as she leant her chest and face to the cold wall, the heat of her passion being stolen by the barren surface.

The clamps were aching terribly. They were a blight whose effects were stealing ever more feeling for themselves, growing deeper and more potent with every passing moment.

The leash was set loose and the Mistress left her for a brief instant before settling down between the splayed legs. Lynn’s mind raced with possibilities, wondering what was going to be done to her.

“I think you should wear this for me, slave,” she advised, and Lynn felt the rope at her rear being hauled back. The strength of the Mistress lifted it enough so that the skirt could be hauled up higher. The raising of the rope made the front section bite deeper into her sex, eliciting sniffles as the abrasive movements continued to tease her swollen and sodden clitoris.

With the barring veil of the dress raised enough, the rope was still kept back and something slimy and cool touched the crease of her rear. Lynn gasped and tensed.

“Slave. Relax,” ordered the Mistress and with sloth, Lynn complied. Releasing her muscles she let the head of the dildo slither inward. It touched the puckered opening of her anus and pushed, opening it, the stealthy intrusion eased by ample lubricant.

Lynn moaned aloud as her rear was opened and the soft plastic shaft rolled in. Slithering deep it slid upon her tender inner tracts. It was a feeling of being filled from within, one that was more delightful than any mundane penetration.

“You like it that much then do you, slave?” said the Mistress.

“Oh yes, yes Mistress,” she sobbed, and then released a drawn groan as it was dragged out again. A soft pop signalled its freedom and the shutting of her sphincter.

A squeak of rapture poured from her throat and her face pressed to the stone as she rubbed her chest to the wall. Playing the clamps she made them pull at her nipples as the dildo rode back into her.

The Mistress drove it deep and then removed it again. Lynn’s legs were trembling and her head was swimming with giddiness. The wall was the only thing holding her up. The acute penetration met resistance this time as Lynn clenched, not to deny, but to playfully resist. The Mistress merely tutted.

“Bad girl,” she smirked and pushed harder. The rod opened her, crushing her rebellion, wrenching her open and travelling back into the soft slot of her rear. Lynn set free a cry of exquisite response and squirmed on the sheathed shaft.

“Such a licentious little slave,” stated the Mistress, rocking the plastic intruder from root to tip and never quite letting it come free.

“You like this so much? Perhaps I should get a real version jammed in here? Perhaps that’s it is it? A woman cannot fulfil you? You still crave a man?” cruelly derided the Mistress.

“No Mistress! Please! I only want you!” she cried, frantic to deny the accusation as she continued to revel in her defilement.

“I’m not sure, slave. Perhaps a nice burly master is what you need. Maybe even the slave. Would that suit you better? To have my slave drilling into your anus, or even down your throat? Is that what you really ache for? A bellyful of hot semen?” she mocked.

“No! Mistress! Don’t! I don’t want that. I couldn’t stand it. I want only you. Make me yours forever, I’ll never let you down. I’ll do anything you want!” she blurted, incensed and repelled by the mere thought of having a man use her again.

This exchange with the Mistress had transformed her, turning the base larvae she had been into the radiant creature of excess and libidinous appetite she had become. The thought of being used by a male master and subjected to his rule was repellent to her, and the notion of the slave being able to use her was worse even than being taken by an animal. She had used him as a lowly beast, something of no consequence, and to be forced into intercourse with such a creature was beyond the worst shame she could conceive of.

The skill of the Mistress was unparalleled. She had turned her in the course of this evening from a devout practitioner of heterosexuality, into someone who could not even dwell on the thought that they had been such a person. She was almost nauseous from recalling all the inept blundering fools she had let mount her and take her like an object, as something placed one step above use of their hand for relief.

The crisis of faith had pressed her into a new religion, that of utter belief in the divine rule of Mistress Despoiler. Lynn swore that never again would she let a man have her.

A swelling snort gave way to an ululating drone as the dildo was driven deep and the rope was placed over its base. With the toy sealed within her, the point remained driven deep and to the limits of her tracts.

Acutely penetrated, she almost leapt from her feet when the buzzing length of a small vibrator was threaded under the crotch rope. The shuddering cranks sent washes of oscillating delight into her pudenda.

“Oh Mistress!” she howled.

Licking her lips, relishing each moment of the intimate attention, her rear chewed on the dildo. The feel of it within her drove her onto a new and lofty plateau of hedonistic trance.

The Mistress backed up. Pulling the leash she drew Lynn from the wall. She walked a tremulous path, her legs weak as she was beset by erogenous influence.

The Mistress returned back to her, enveloping her in opera gloved arms. The tight clinch allowed them to kiss once more. Lynn wanted to turn to water and slip through the gasp, the lips and tongue of her owner causing her to feel as though she were dissolving. The power of the woman and the sheer might in her glorious body was mesmerising. To be held by her, kissed, tied up and used, it was a stupendous fate.

Lynn had always envied the frame of the Mistress, always wanting a figure such as hers. Her breasts were of a shape and size that she wished she could possess. Her curves were greater, her face more attractive and full of life. Now she was getting to sample the sterling features first hand, and they were enslaving her with their enamouring spell.

The Mistress pulled back and sat down on the floor, her back being supported by the armchair. Her spare hand reached down and took the zip of her skirt. Lifting it up she exposed her succulent legs. Peeling back the black veil of latex as the metal teeth parted with a grinding chatter she set them free while Lynn watched.

“Come here, slave,” she stated with a wicked glower playing the corners of her lips, and she pulled at the leash.

Lynn was towed in as the Mistress recovered the chain. Bringing Lynn to her knees and then onto her front, she was set with her face immediately before the belly of her owner.

Peering at the revealed naked pussy of the Mistress, Lynn gave no delay and settled her mouth to the proffered intimate feast. Drowning herself in the scent of her owner, she let her tongue drool forward and lap at the swollen and erect clitoris. The domination and abuse of a new slave had greatly aroused the Mistress. It was a most delightful discovery to know she was so turned on by the acts she wrought. That she was not fulfilling an ego boost, a power trip or other such wish to be revered or admired. She was orchestrating this as a sexual gratification, a personal mission she was devoted to and that was innately part of her.

With her eyes able to stare across the reclining torso of the Mistress, Lynn was in heaven. She peered entranced at the latex folds encompassing the chest of the Mistress - her heaving breasts, the look of serenity that ruled her cool features, the candles all about them making her eyes flick with an inner glow as they lurked in profuse shadow.

Lynn squirmed on the floor like a floundering fish while the vibrator continued its singular duty. Simultaneously she used the muscles of her rear to play and manipulate the dildo. Her own breasts were squashed beneath her. Their peaks still being tortured by the clamps.