Debutante MILF Lesbian Submissive

Serena seeing me standing, still staring at her smiled and waved me over.

I walked the few feet, an anxiety overwhelming me unlike any I could recall in years. Reaching her, I handed her a bag with the items she had requested. She took them and said, "Thank you, my Petra, my pet Petra, how adorable is that?" She laughed as she added, "Even your name was made to be mine."

I sighed and said, her voice loud enough to have others hear, "Could you please not call me that."

"What? Petra or pet?" she asked smiling.

"Pet," I whispered, sitting down beside her.

"But you are my pet," she purred, "My Pet Petra."

"Please," I said, her tone making my pussy damper.

"Please, what?" she asked.

"Let's just pretend that brief moment of weakness never happened," I said, unable to look her in the eyes, instead focusing my gaze on her legs.

She asked, "Is that really what you want?"

"Yes," I said, my head answered, ignoring the burning down below.

"I am not sure I believe you," she said, as she slid one foot out of her heel and moved her right foot up her left. I followed her nylon-clad foot like a hypnotist's watch. "Are you sure, you're sure?" she repeated.

"W-w-what?" I stammered, not really processing her question.

"Massage my feet, Pet Petra," she ordered.

"E-e-excuse me?" I questioned, hearing the words but praying I hadn't.

"Massage my feet, these heels are a killer," she repeated.

"Here?" I asked, looking at her.

"No better place like here," she shrugged.

"I can't," I pleaded.

"Two and a half," she threatened.

I looked around, there were lots of people surrounding us, there was no way to not be seen if I obeyed. Yet, I was compelled to obey, now with an all consuming urge to touch her nylon-clad legs, and not wanting to find out what may happen if I disobeyed and caused her to say three. "Okay."

"Well, get on your knees, Pet Petra," she said, before adding, "that really does have a ring to it."

Shame overwhelmed me as I avoided eye contact with any strangers, moved off my seat, onto my knees and took her foot in my hands and started massaging. Glancing up at Serena, she was smiling down at me as she grabbed the Cosmopolitan magazine I had purchased for her. Her foot was so soft, the nylon so silky, that it was easy to just move to my own world and forget where I was or that I had an audience watching me massage a teenager's feet. Thankfully, after only a couple of minutes, an announcement came that all first class members may board.

Serena moved her foot back into her heel, stood up and looking down at me, said, "We will finish this later, Pet Petra."

I nodded, not getting off my knees until she started walking away.

I got off my knees, grabbed my carry on and went directly to the restroom never looking up to make eye contact with any of the strangers who had witnessed the humiliating act. Once in a stall, I broke down. Tears rolled freely down my face at allowing myself to be humiliated like that.

I am a strong woman.

I am raising a daughter on my own.

I am keeping the family name alive since the passing of my husband.

I am soon releasing my daughter to the world.

I am a strong woman.

Yet, I pulled my jeans down, yanked my panties down, and began relieving the burning fire in my pussy. I closed my eyes, my mind immediately replaying the moment that just took place, imagining Serena pulling me between her legs, me unable to resist even in the crowded airport and making me pleasure her. I had just begun to pleasure myself when I was brought back to reality when my phone buzzed.

I stopped, sensing this was a sign from above, and quickly pulled up my panties and jeans, leaving my burning flame torching me. I looked at my phone and saw it was a text from an unknown number.

I clicked on it and gasped again. It was from Serena.

Pet Petra,
Don't you dare go to the bathroom and get yourself off...your cunt belongs to me now. You come when I say you come.
Mistress Serena

I reread the text a dozen times. Each time got me angrier; each time got me hornier. My own secret rebellion decided, I again tugged down my jeans and panties and furiously rubbed myself determined to disobey, and to finish what I started...even as the words 'Mistress Serena' echoed in my head.

The forbidden lust, my anger, the memories of submission and my fingers had me coming in less than two minutes and I bit my lip to avoid screaming in the restroom and announcing to whoever was in here of my own self-pleasure.

I sat on the toilet and allowed my orgasm to wave through me as my reality again became clear as the fog of submission and Serena's control faded away. Cursing myself, I pulled up my panties and jeans just as I heard my boarding call. I composed myself, left the stall and looked at myself in the mirror.

What was becoming of me?

Why could I not resist her? I fucking hate the bitch!

No more, I said to myself as I washed my hands to get rid of any evidence of my self-pleasure and got in line. As I got closer to boarding, my resolve hardened, as I knew I must stand up to her. I must regain my pride, my dignity.

Handing my boarding pass to the woman, she smiled and said, "Enjoy the flight."

I thanked her and headed down the long hallway and into the plane. Once on, I saw Serena, in my seat, the first row which I always request, sipping on a glass of wine, even though she is too young to legally drink. She stared at me the whole time I walked by, but never said anything, her smug fucking smile saying all she wanted too.

The first two hours of the eight hour flight were pure hell. I was in the middle of three and felt cramped in. I was borderline claustrophobic and being in such confined seats only enhanced the fear. I tried to watch the movie playing, but couldn't get comfortable. Thankfully, I eventually fell asleep. I was awoken by a soft touch and looked up to see a young stewardess, from first class, say, "Mrs. Zimmerman."

"Yes," I said, groggily awakening from a good sleep and confused of my surroundings briefly.

"Ms. Madison one of our first class passengers would like to speak with you," she explained.

"Oh," I said, where I was, my indiscretions and my predicament came flooding back instantly.

"Will you please follow me," she said.

"Of course," I said, thankful for the opportunity to get out of the passenger sandwich I was in and to stretch my poor legs. Yet, nervous to why Serena would want to see me and what she may have in store for me.

Once in the first class section, the woman sitting beside her stood up and asked, clearly embarrassed to be asking such a question, "What is your seat number."

"32b," I said.

She walked away, assumedly to my seat, as Serena said, "Come sit down."

I did, thankful to be in a comfortable seat and to have leg room.

"There really is no comparison to how people like you and I travel and the rest of civilization," Serena said.

"Agreed," I replied, finally able to agree to something the bitch had to say.

"So did you obey?" She asked.

"Obey what?" I asked, thankful there was no one across from us, another thing I liked about the front row seat in first class.

"Did you refrain from coming," she asked.

"Of course," I lied.

"You're lying," she said, before adding, "how disappointing."

"I am not?" I adamantly replied.

"I can tell by the look in your eyes you are lying to me," she sighed. "That really is a shame because you know what that means."

"No," I sighed back, before responding sarcastically, "Why don't you enlighten me on what it means."

"Three," was all she said.

"Four," I replied.

"Okay, four it is," she countered.

"I'm done with this game, Serena," I firmly said.

"What game?" She asked innocently.

"You know exactly what game. Go ahead show the pictures or the video, this is 2013, it will probably make me more famous. It is chic to be bi now," I replied, calling her bluff even though I didn't remotely want that picture or whatever other evidence she had on me released.

"Ooh, does my Pet Petra have a backbone, how adorable," she said, talking to me like she was talking to a child or a puppy.

"I am not your fucking pet," I snapped, standing up.

"Sit down," she ordered, her voice sharp.

I stared at her; she stared at me. It was like a Wild West showdown except no one would die...except my dignity.

She spoke again this time softer, "You can pretend to be strong, but I can see through that exterior." She slipped out of her heels which had me break eye contact and glance at her nylon-clad feet.

She continued, "You are submissive, Petra. You crave it. I can see it in your eyes, in your posture and in your longing."

Her words rang true as I remembered the happiest time in my life was at the feet of my roommate, Angela. Yet, I countered, "Apparently you need glasses as you can't read a thing."

"Can't I?" She asked. "Be honest then if I am so wrong. Did you masturbate in the bathroom after I left?"

"Yes, fine, I did. What does that prove?" I admitted, annoyed by her condescending attitude and at the reality that I was getting wet again. Why couldn't I control my sexual appetite?

"That you are controlled by your sexual desires," she shrugged.

"But I disobeyed you, thus I am not submissive," I countered smugly.

She laughed, "It's not that black and white. First off, if we are being so completely honest, tell me the truth, were you not a submissive in college?"

"Not really," I said, even though I definitely was.

"Not really, means yes," she said.

"Does no mean yes too?" I sarcastically questioned.

"With you, yes it does," she said seriously. "Now sit back down."

For some reason I did.

"Good girl, Pet Petra," she purred. "Now for your punishment."

"Look," I said. "Yes, I had a wild past; yes, I had a momentary lapse of judgement. But I am not your pet."

She ignored my words and said, as she pulled out a vibrator from her purse, "My vibrator is out of batteries. Please go to the dregs of society and offer someone twenty dollars for two triple A batteries."

"You got to be kidding," I said.

"I don't kid," Serena said. "Now go before I double your punishment."

I sighed.

"If you want to earn the right to eat my cunt like the hungry cunt-licker you are you will do as you're told now," she said.

As soon as she said the blunt words my cunt leaked, my mouth watered and I wanted to obey, as frustrating and infuriating as that is to say.

Sensing my weakness, she added, again moving to my very vulnerable ear, "You like being called names, being put in your place, don't you, my little cunt-licker, my slave, my slut, my whore?"

Unfortunately, during the litany of names as well as her hot breath on my ear, I moaned.

"Mmmmmmm, there it is," she purred, her mouth tugging gently on my ear, her hand on my leg, "Say it, Pet Petra, tell me you want to eat my cunt, that you yearn to submit to me."

"Oh God," I moaned again, unable to think straight with her lips teasing my ear and her hand on my leg creating a warmth I could not control.

"Oh God, what?" She questioned, her tongue swirling in my ear.

"I caaaaan't, I doooon't, dammit, fine, yes," I babbled, as her hand moved towards my jean crotch.

"Yes, what?" She questioned, pushing me to the brink as her hand reached my crotch and put pressure directly on my cunt.

"Shiiiiit, yes, I want to eat you," I admitted, frustrated beyond all measure.

"Here, in the plane?" She asked.

"Anywhere, please it has been so long," I whimpered.

"So long since what?" She asked.

"I have been with a woman or been with anyone for thaaaaat matter," I admitted, her hand causing me to struggle to focus.

Moving her hand away, and returning to her seat, she said, "Then go earn it. Get me batteries."

The vibrator in my hand, I asked, "Do I need to take the toy?"

"Of course, that is part of the punishment," she said, closing her eyes making it clear this conversation was over.

I took a deep breath, my mind muddled by our conversation and my conflicting emotions and decided, fuck it I would do it! The problem and the good news was that it was after midnight on the plane and many of the passengers would be asleep.

Standing up, I walked past the curtain to suburbia hell and saw the first couple rows were sleeping. In the third row was a middle aged man reading his kindle. I went to him and asked, "You wouldn't happen to have any triple A batteries, would you?"

He looked at my hand with the toy in it and smiled, "Sorry, I don't, but I could replace that thing for you."

My face flushed and I replied, "Good to know."

I moved down the aisle, past a teenage girl who saw the toy and gave a look, but I wasn't going to ask her. In row seven was a woman my age watching the movie. I asked her, "I hate to be a bother, but you wouldn't happen to have any triple A batteries?"

She looked at the toy, gave a surprised look, but smiled, "It is a long trip. Let me see if I do."

She pulled out her purse while I stood there with a sex toy in my hand both embarrassed and yet exhilarated by what I was doing. I strangely felt free even though I was completely bound.

"I think this has triple A batteries," she said, opening a small flashlight. "It does."

Handing them to me, I said, "Thank you, you are a life savor."

"Oh I imagine right now, that thing is a life savor," she joked.

"That it will be now," I joked back. I handed her a twenty dollar bill.

"No, no," she waved the money away.

"Thanks again," I whispered as I put the new batteries in the toy and turned it on. "It works."

"So it does," she smiled as I winked at her and returned to first class.

Returning to my seat, I sat down unsure what to do as it appeared Serena was asleep.

Yet, a minute later, she opened her legs and without ever opening her eyes she ordered, "Get your treat, Pet Petra."

Again, for the millionth time my mind played good brain, bad brain. Good brain pointed out all the common sense consequences of obeying. This included getting caught by stewardesses, pilots or other passengers, obeying would also pull me deeper into the sick and twisted world of Serena and of course would potentially threaten my image and high position in the social hierarchy of the privileged. Yet, bad brain reminded me of my sexual liberation in college, how long it had been since I tasted pussy or had sex with a person, and how I was naturally submissive and needed to take risks on occasion...after all it wasn't like I knew anyone on this plane nor likely to ever see any one of them again.

Serena said impatiently, "it's now or never, cunt-licker. If you are not going to get into your natural position between my legs, return to your original seat and bring Jasmine back."

"Jasmine?" I questioned.

"Yes, the woman who was sitting here. She is a teacher from Canada and was eating my pussy rather eagerly in the bathroom earlier," Serena explained still not opening her eyes.

Oddly, the feeling inside me was jealousy and even as good brain screamed 'nooooo', I felt my body lowering to the ground and between Serena's nylon-clad legs, the vibrator still in my hand.

"Good choice, Pet Petra," she said, as she lifted up her ass, pulled her skirt up and revealed thigh high stockings and a lack of panties, her shaved pussy now right in front of me.

Bad brain said, "Dive in," and I listened as I leaned forward, drawn in by the beauty of her cunt and an exotic scent, and began licking.

"That's it, slut, worship your Mistress's pussy," she moaned softly.

The word Mistress had me cringe at the implications and yet turned me on simultaneously.

One taste and I was nineteen again; one taste and I was hooked; one taste and I knew there was no going back. I explored her pussy, my tongue moving up and down, in and out. I was in no hurry to make her come, no hurry for this moment to end. My own pussy was on fire, yet I let it burn as I concentrated on pleasuring Serena.

After a few minutes of slow pleasuring, she said, "You like Mistress's taste, Pet Petra?"

"Yes," I admitted, between licks.

"Yes, what?" She asked, putting her hand on my forehead and pushing me away from her delicacy.

"Yes, Mistress," I quickly corrected, before adding, "I love your pussy."

"And you will be an obedient pet from now on?" She questioned, still not allowing me you return to my task.

"Yes, Mistress," I agreed, without a second thought to the full breadth of my agreement.

"Let's see if that is true," she smiled, again testing me.

"How?" I asked, me on my knees in an airplane with a vibrator in my hand a seemingly pretty good example of obedience.

"Take off your jeans," she ordered. "By the way, sluts like you do not wear jeans. That cunt of yours should always be easily accessible."

"Understood, Mistress," I said, standing up, slipping out of my heels and taking my jeans off glancing to see if any of the other passengers were awake...they weren't.

"Thigh highs under your jeans, how sexy and slutty," Serena approved.

"I'm a debutante, dress classy on the outside, trashy on the inside," I shrugged.

"How poetic," she quipped, before adding to her expectations of me, "Your panties too, sluts don't wear panties."

I again obeyed, my hands trembling at what she was expecting me to do next.

"Becky, you here?" Serena called out.

"Of course," the young stewardess said appearing out of nowhere.

Handing Becky her phone, she said, "Could you please record this."

"Of course," Becky agreed, taking the phone even as she smiled at me.

My face flushed red again as I pleaded to Serena, "I will obey, but please don't record me."

"I won't use it against you," she smiled, looking up at me, "unless you disobey me. No, the video is just for my own collection of MILF slut submissions."

My face burned with shame and yet I knew I wasn't going to disobey whatever order she gave me.

She reached in a bag under her seat and I watched as she pulled out a big dildo with a suction cup and put it on the ground. She ordered, "Come sit, my Pet Petra."

Horny as hell, I didn't hesitate, even with the knowledge I was being filmed, as I returned to my precious position on my knees in front of Serena and lowered myself on the long, thick dildo which easily slipped inside my wet pussy.

"Good girl," she smiled, "Fuck yourself, slut."

I closed my eyes, riding the cock, my orgasm building after simmering for so long.

"Don't you come, slut," Serena warned.

"Okaaaay," I agreed, knowing holding back would be never difficult.

"Are you hungry for submission, cunt-licker?" She questioned.

"Yeeees," I admitted, wanting to taste her again, to make her come and also to get off myself.

"Open your eyes," Serena ordered. "A good pet slut isn't ashamed of obedience."

I opened my eyes and looked at the smiling Serena, as almost all the dildo filled me.

"What are you?" Serena asked.

"A submissive," I admitted.

"More," she instructed.

"A slut, a pet, your pet, your cunt-licker, slaaaave," I moaned, saying such words so naughty it only enhanced my pleasure and submission.

"And what am I?" Serena questioned.

"My-my-myyyyy Mistress," I stammered, not liking admitting such a thing.

"And what do you want to do right now?" She asked.

"Eat your cunt," I admitted, her legs still open and her captivating cunt was right in front of me.

"Your daughter's arch enemy's cunt?" Serena questioned, pushing me deeper into her web of twisted submission.

I froze, the dildo deeply in me. Submitting to Serena had happened rather easily, but far away from the reality of home and of my daughter. Serena was clearly testing me by bringing Miranda up at such a moment.

"Is something wrong Mommy cunt-licker?" Serena questioned.