Touch Me: Erotica Book 1 (The Virgin to Vixen Series) (2 page)

“So
,
how did you
become
a
M
istress?”
s
he asked me.

“
Don’t be impatient,
”
I said with my hand raised
up
in the air
. I wanted her to know that I would
slam
my hand down on
her bare ass at any
time.

She
close
d
her
mouth
quickly
. I realized
that
she was a fast learner in the lessons of bondage. I ran my hand through my short, spiked
blonde
hair.
I felt my nipples
pucker
with
satisfaction
. I knew there was a lot to teach this girl, and I’d make sure
that
she und
erstood the mental connection
between Mistress and submissive.

“Mistress?”
she asked, her voice
respectful
.

“Yes,” I said as I walked around the table
,
contemplating my next
move
on her young, fresh skin.
I wanted to
turn
her skin from snow
-
white to
a
beet
-
red
color
.
I wanted her to
find
pleasure
in be
com
ing a
submissive
.

“
Tell me more
, please
.
”

“Are you trying to stall the punishment that you know you deserve?” I grinned.
“And the
painful
training you must endure to please me?”

“Of course not. I’m
ready
to embrace the pain and
pleasure
that you
evoke
i
n me.”

“Good girl.”

I sat down on the chair in the dark room and closed my eyes
again
. I was hot and in need. I wanted a man’s
touch
.
I wasn’t a lesbian
. I was a teacher
who
taught
whichever
gender came into our establishment.
I was a pleaser
who
aimed to please the public.
I
hadn’t
always
been
like that
,
n
ot until my journey started on
one
summer night
on the streets of downtown Los Ange
les.

I
was
almost
nineteen years old. My
body
had remained a
pristine
sanctuary
, untouched by any human hands. Even my
own
hands had never explored the areas that quivered to be touched, rubbed and massaged.
My firm breasts
had
never felt the warmth of a human hand. My pussy yearned to
dribble
at the touch of a man. But I was naive. I was
untouched
because I was taught that my
body
was untouchable.
To touch oneself was evil, according to the way I had been brought up.

I had got
ten
into a fight with my parents and stormed out of our two
-
bedroom rundown
apartment
.
I
began
wandering
around
a
imlessly on the streets of Los Angeles
.
I wasn’t
sure what I was
in search of
,
b
ut I knew that everything and everyone I saw became
a
mental
quest. Even
the sight of
a local homeless
man
aroused my
pussy
to the point of being drenched.
I saw his dirty fingers sticking out of his cut
-
off gloves
,
and I wondered what they would feel like on me and even inside of me.
I thought about his dirty fingers sliding into my tight, wet pussy
,
and
I wondered if they would be
clean
when they slid out.

I needed someone to release me. I wasn’t sure what needed to be released
,
but I was no stranger to the ache between my legs. I even purposely
bumped
into men and women
,
allowing my full breasts to brush up against them. Of course, I apologized
to the
people
for running into them.
T
hey had no clue that I used their bodies to
send
a
spark
of desire through mine.

Then
,
for some unknown reason, I was drawn into a club
that seemed to be really hopping
.
A sign said, “
Dance Party:
Ladies Free Tonight,” so I went inside. The doorman stamped my hand
without carding me.
I wandered around in shock as my brain absorbed the throng of gyrating dancers.
The D.J. was playing techno music
and the bass thumped my eardrums
.
There were people everywhere
,
and everyone seemed to be rubbing against someone else
in a pretense of dancing, but it seemed more like a prelude to seduction to me
.
I stared in disbelief
at the
intense
sensual
interaction in front of me
. I was intrigued and excited at the same time. And I was
especially
excited to know that there were people like me. I wasn’t a
freak
after all.
These people touched and the sexual energy of the bodies in that club was contagious.

I
became
quiet
for a moment. I wondered why I was telling
R
ed
my
story
. Then I realized I
wasn’t telling the story to
Red
so
that
she could
secrete
her pussy juice all over my table.
I was reminding
myself
why I was standing over a girl, spanking her ass and making her
secrete
her pussy juice all over my table. But telling the story to a stranger was exhilarating and
passionate
,
a
lmost like Red was
the
voyeur and I was the
exhibitionist
. Red’s eyes
lit
up like Christmas lights
, waiting for the next part of the story to unroll from my lips
. Who
was
I to
let
a woman down while she was excited?

For a moment, I wondered how excited she was.
I knew
that
I was excited because I was reliving a
moment
in my life that changed me drastically as a human being. But why was
Red
excited? How excited was she? Without warning, I stood and walked to the table.
I spread open her
plump
ass
, which
was still propped up in the air
,
and I thrust my hand between her legs.
I could feel the
hot
,
slimy
wetness that matted her pubic hairs.

I heard her moan with pleasure.
My
story
was torturing her
,
and she needed to be released as much as I did.
This meant that
my
story
was serving a
dual
purpose. Being the
dominatrix
bitch that I am, I decided to
make
her
suffer
the
way
that
I was suffering. I removed my wet fingers from her throbbing hole and leaned over to
thrust
my fingers in
to
her mouth. She didn’t hesitate.
She sucked my fingers
as if
they were the last dick standing.
She sucked them until I told her
that
she could
stop
.

“Where was I?”
After
a moment of thought
,
I picked up where I left off.
At this point, I
almost
forgot that Red was
lying
on the table and
that
I was telling her a story. My mind actually took me back to that night, in the
club
when my life
had finally changed.

I
watched
people
dance
close
as they rubbed
their bodies against each other. I was mesmerized. There was an older gentleman
who
walked up to my side, leaned over and handed me a drink. Then in front of me, he dropped a pill into the
glass
I was holding
.

He glanced at me before he leaned in and whispered,
“
You’re
tense. Drink up.
What I
’
ve given
you will help you loosen up and enjoy my
club
.
”

I
wasn’t sure what he put in my
glass
. It could have been as
simple
as an
aspirin
, but I was sure that it wasn’t anything that innocuous
.
The
intensity
and desires of my skin, and
body
that needed
to be touched intensified under the
spell of the
mystery
drink
he gave me
.
I
took a sip, and then another and soon, I
could feel myself break
ing
free.
I began to move to the music, kind of dancing as I walked around through the crowd.

As I broke free from my
mental
constraints, I began walking through the
club
with my eyes glued on the dancers.
I felt my body
shedding
my inhibitions.
Before I knew it, I had walked through a door that had opened by a
man
who
put
in a code
on the digital secure entry panel
.
I walked in right behind him, before the door closed, and paused
as he disappeared into the dimness
.
I searched, through the dark, for something that would tell me where I was. And then I saw a large light. When I looked up
,
there were
almost
a hundred bodies piled on top of each other
like glistening seals
. Every person was
nude
.
Almost everyone was moving in a rhythmic manner.

I was shocked.
I walked closer to the loud
,
slapping bodies and then maneuvered behind a
wall,
so I could
watch
in secrecy.
My body felt hot. I removed my black
-
hooded jacket and dropped it to the floor. I wanted to
take
off more clothes, but I couldn’t
bring
myself to do it. Instead, I did the one thing th
at I had been taught not to do.

I reached my hand
under my skirt
and let my fingers
slide
through my
soft
pubic hair. I believe
d
that my
spiked
drink had given me a
sudden
release from who I was
and how I had been raised
. I slid my fingers between the lips of my pussy.
My
head
flew back and
I
moaned at the mere
touch
of my soft
,
sweet area.
I had never been touched, so the feeling was similar to butane against a match. I felt an electrical fire
start
between my legs. I wasn’t sure how to
turn
it off.