Dee's Story

Emily was a submissive, sexy and an artist. She worked in a small local pottery where she no longer simply painted on a pre-decided pattern, having done that since leaving school Emily now had an almost free hand to decorate the ceramics as she chose, often getting the potters to make an item in a particular way, one that complimented her designs. The next natural step was designing an entire range, a task she was on the verge of completing. As an experienced submissive her tales were fascinating, I could listen to her for hours as she recounted scenes she had experienced, others she had witnessed, best of all she never seemed to tire of my questions, even accepting my need to be whipped and why it was so important to me. That she was sexy is not a biased opinion of her on my part, not at all. Emily had a way about her that simply drew the eye, her lithe body seemed to flow, hips swaying as if in invitation. Most of all her smile, so open and welcoming, the girl just oozed sex, knew it, yet was unaffected by the knowledge, an attitude that made her all the move attractive.

I first met Emily at a local 'munch' held every Sunday afternoon. How we had never met before was shear chance for we both attended the munches often, whenever we had the time. After that first meeting we seemed to bump into each other all the time, at munches, parties, in the street. It seemed that fate was throwing us together, something we both found amusing, neither keen to complain.

Emily was the first person I had ever invited into the flat, well, not just the flat, others had visited before, but Emily I intended to invite into our bed, to share her with Chris, an invitation Emily eagerly accepted, in fact she pounced on my suggestion with excited relish and a lot of very affectionate kissing and... well I could guess the 'and', but as we were in the supermarket right then so I managed to resist joining her in anything more than kisses.

Loaded with shopping and Chris's favourite take-away selection, Emily and I entered the flat, to be greeted by Chris, from the look in her eyes Emily was welcome, very welcome. No doubts at all about how the evening would end.

I put away the shopping whilst they unpacked the take-away, I undressed from habit, joined by a smiling Emily who stripped as well, the two of us taking our places side by side across the low table from Chris. It might have been the food that made her drool, after all it was her favourite selection, but perhaps it was not the food...

5.

That first night was almost perfect, Emily fitted in to our lovemaking as if she had always been a part of us, whilst Chris took advantage of her submissive nature and pulled out all the toys, taking control whilst Emily and I acted as her slaves, except for Emily that was all she wanted, I could here it in her voice every time she said, "yes Mistress."

Chris and I enjoyed kinky sex, any sex, the flavour of the moment decided by our moods, often by Chris's mood, but that was mostly because I was normally happy to go along with whatever she suggested. I'm not submissive though, certainly not like Emily, I might seem like it to some, the way I habitually undress in the flat, the way I often play the slave to Chris's Mistress role, but that is all it is, at least to me, playing a role, kinky but not who I am, not all of me.

Almost perfect, it felt kind of greedy to want perfection, in a lot of ways it was perfect, sharing Chris with Emily, Emily with Chris, the extra hands and lips adding to everything, almost perfect, except that Emily seemed to bring out a dominant streak in Chris that I'd never seen before, and Emily's habit of referring to Chris as 'our Mistress' seemed a little precocious, almost possessive, neither of these things spoilt the night, they were just there, nagging at my thoughts, not just that night but long after.

In the weeks that followed our triad grew, Emily became a part of our lives, sharing our bed, sharing everything, sometimes the two of us would go out, sometimes all three, and on occasion Chris and Emily went out together. We seemed to fit together, whatever the combination, it even made the nights when Chris and I were alone more special, so much so that Chris seemed able to let go completely more often, triggering one of those special nights when we slipped all control and let ourselves go, nothing was off-limits, we held nothing back, each driving the other to grater excesses, until finally exhaustion took us both, slipping from nirvana to unconsciousness until the alarm clock jarred us awake, tired and bruised to begin another day.

Then there was the auction.

By then I was running the gallery almost without Chris's involvement, she still took care of the finances of course, but I had proved myself to her and she trusted me to run things, to build it up, which led to the auction.

It was inspired by the huge photograph in Chris's office. I still could not get enough of seeing it, sketching it, getting lost in it. Every so often amongst the pictures and paintings we bought and sold, another work by the same photographer would appear, those I took special care with, allowing myself time to enjoy them first before ever putting them on display. Then there was the club. We had been there often enough, mostly to their regular 'munches', but recently Chris and Emily had become regulars, always as Mistress and slave, always returning bright eyed and randy as fuck, not that I was complaining, not at all.

My latest idea to increase sales and promote the gallery was to hold an auction at one of the regular munches, each piece carefully selected from our stock of the more extreme BDSM themed pictures, paintings and sketches. I even included every single one of the photographs and prints from my special stock, those done by the unknown photographer. The club's organisers had greeted by proposal enthusiastically, deciding to add to the auction by opening it up to their members, who were invited to 'auction' their submissive partners. At the time I thought it a giggle to include girls as lots amongst the artwork, it would at least guarantee a good and attentive audience.

The day of the auction we arrived early, Chris's car full of the last lots, the bigger and more expensive ones, and Emily, who Chris had decided to include in the 'auction'.

Everything was ready by the time the munch officially started. Those who were to be auctioned had arrived or been brought early and now were displayed along with the artwork, all scattered around the walls, hung from hooks (artwork) or chained up (submissives) each with a small card detailing their providence and their lot number. All of the artwork had a reserve price, as did some of the girls.

The viewing went well, everyone seemed to spend time looking at all the lots, some of whom uttered occasional shrieks when a pinch or spank caught them unawares, as planned the auction did not start until everyone, well everyone except the lots, had eaten.

The auction started out well, the artwork all selling for more than the reserve, in the case of the first 'special' prints, by a wide margin. I was sad to see them go, but confident that there would be more. The first of the girls went for a surprising amount, considering that the new owner would have to return her at the end of the munch, but as all proceeds were destined for a local children's charity, perhaps that accounted for the generous bids? Then again there were a few girls that I'd gladly bid on, if I had the time.

Whilst the auction was running I was busy in a side room, packing materials and our portable credit card machine, wrapping each lot as it was bought and taking the money, except for the girls, their 'sale' was handled by two of the club officials. Being in the side room I didn't see the commotion, but as I found out later it was not pretty.

For her own reasons, Chris had Emily hooded and gagged for the auction, but once on the stage, the auctioneer decided to remove the hood to let the buyers see her face, it was then that the trouble started. It seemed that Emily had omitted to tell us everything about her previous relationship, especially the part about her leaving her Mistress without warning or explanation, or that the woman was inordinately jealous. Her shouts of "she's mine," interrupted the bidding and when Chris jumped in it got both nasty and physical, the woman trying her best to strike Chris with a short crop whilst loudly accusing her of kidnapping and stealing her slave. The club organisers settled the matter by ejecting the woman from the club, physically carrying her kicking and screaming to the door. Leaving a stunned Chris and a very tearful Emily amongst the confused audience. Emily was of course withdrawn from the auction and Chris smuggled her out the back doors and home, leaving me unaware until later when the auction ended and I had begun packing away.

By the time I got home Chris had calmed Emily and extracted enough of the story to understand what had upset her so much, before forcing her to take a mild sedative and putting her to bed. We discussed it quietly, sharing a late supper in the kitchen, neither of us understood the intricacies of a real life Mistress/slave relationship, but both of us were determined to protect Emily, even if she should have warned us before.

In the weeks that followed, Emily became increasingly submissive, focussing on Chris who she constantly addressed as Mistress. I never felt excluded, it was just a little too much for my more free and easy style of kink, a little too much for Chris as well, I thought, though perhaps Chris was humouring her?

I began to venture out on my own more, with friends, but without Chris, always returning home, always welcomed back, it seemed like just another twist to our ongoing relationship.

About that time we obtained another set of the special pictures, this time a series, the sequence showing a real-life whipping, no chance that it was staged, every detail was authentic. My long repressed need rose up demanding attention, the prints became my obsession, for the first time ever I found myself unwilling to put them on display, I knew I could sell them for a healthy profit yet I invented all sorts of reasons to delay, each day I'd study them, one by one as the scene unfolded, print by glorious print, my need surfaced, strong and primal, always lurking in my thoughts, soon I promised myself, soon.

Three of us were dancing together at a lesbian bar one night when she approached. I'd noticed her checking us out, all of us, or so I thought, a little surprised when it was me she singled out. There was something about her that spoke to my need, a look in her eyes when she thought I was not looking, an edge to her voice, the way she held herself, as if controlling some urgent desire.

At first we danced. Her height and my lack of heels brought her tits to my attention, and what tits..!! Her nipples moved beneath the sheer silk blouse, holding my gaze, their gyrations hypnotic, almost as seductive as her honey husky voice. We danced for hours, then nearing dehydration she led me off the dance floor and away to a quiet corner where I gulped down two huge bottles of water, watched by an open-mouthed waitress. My seductress had offered me wine, but I asked instead for another bottle of water.

"You never drink?" She smiled as she sipped her wine.

"Sometimes, but in clubs I stick to water, always in bottles, nobody is going to find it easy to doctor my drink." I returned her smile.

"You're worried about date-rape?"

"Depends." I grinned. "You can't rape the willing, and I'm very willing, for the right person..." I let my words taper away.

"That will be one very lucky person." Her eyes flashed, their message clear.

"Lady, I don't ignore my friends and dance for hours with just anyone..." I watched the smug satisfaction spread across her face. "But I don't leave with anyone I didn't arrive with either..." That wiped the smugness off her face.

"Perhaps another time?" Her smile now warm and inviting, still that hint of something hidden, still that edge that called to my need.

"Sure, if you call, we can go somewhere, to dance, or..." I flashed her my best smile, my need approved.

We swapped numbers, then she moved closer, her scent was still fresh, even though we were both still hot from dancing, and not just sweat, as she found out a while later when our kisses deepened and her fingers eased up my thigh to my dripping pussy. Whilst she teased my soaking sex I cupped her tits, they really were natures own, much to my surprise, it was not that they were huge, not even large, just perfectly formed and in need of no support, my fingers traced every curve as my tongue writhed around hers. Maybe I could sketch her, preferably after we'd worn each other out, I grinned to myself, then moaned into her mouth as her fingers flicked my clit.

All too soon the lights went up and the music stopped, we drew apart, both even hotter than before, both sure we'd meet again. She winked as she licked her fingers, taking her time to suck each into her mouth, tongue twirling around, one, two, three, four, all had been buried deep inside me as I screamed my orgasm into her eager talented mouth.

My friends were waiting by the door, their knowing grins a prelude to the banter I knew to expect.

"Not leaving with her?"

"No, I'm a good girl I am."

"Duck..!!" They both crouched low, giggling, "damn those flying pigs."

"Yeah, yeah and you two are both virgins, seeing as you've two holes left untouched..."

"Two?"

"Yeah, two, unless someone's had your ear holes..."

The banter continued as we headed for the taxi rank, splitting the fare as usual.

Back at the flat I found Chris laying on the big leather sofa, a glass of wine in her hand, Emily curled up in her arms, eyes glazed from an endorphin high, I stripped off and showered before joining them, telling Chris about my evening and my seductress, only as we headed for bed did I notice the fine red lines across Emily's back.

My explanation of my nights adventures had the same effect as always, Chris and I each becoming more aroused, Emily still zoned out in her own little world as we embraced and kissed, fingers seeking out familiar places, tongues tasting each other, bodies tingling as we drove each other higher.

'Splat'. "Oww. Bitch" I reached back to rub my ass, Chris moving over me, holding my wrists behind my back.

"I want your ass" Her voice low, smokey, her teeth at the base of my spine.

"Fuck me, Bitch, fuck me hard." I moaned as her fingers found my dripping cunt, twisting in my juices then thrusting into my ass, spreading open my rosebud, stretching me as she reached for the strap-on. "Oh yeah..!!"

Her hands on my shoulders, pulling me back as her hips bucked forward, driving hard and deep, my body lost in lust, then the pull of her fingers in my hair, her hand upon my cheek, spanking my ass as she impaled me, taking me, using me, filling me up as she bend me back like a bow, the dildo loosed like an arrow to pierce my centre. Hitting the spot, puncturing the last of my control as I fell into space, lost in my own little corner of nirvana as Chris drew me into her arms, soothing kisses and whispered love, the dildo still buried inside, filling me up, filling my dreams as I slipped away.

The next morning I walked a little stiffly, my ass tender from Chris's exertions, the soreness made me smile, my lover knows me so well.

Later I found my seductress's number, I wonder if she will make me as tender?

6.

We exchanged a few calls, each filled with tease and innuendo, my seductress fluent in the language of unspoken lust. Finally we arranged to meet again, this time at a restaurant, at least we would start there...

For my night out with the girls at the lesbian bar I'd dressed as we had agreed, short skirt, crop top, no underwear, and shoes, a change from my beloved boots, but no heels, I've never worn heels. For my date with my seductress I reverted to my customary attire, jeans and a T-shirt, my biker boots and leather jacket. For once I left my sketch pad, not planning on needing it, I hoped to be to busy, to distracted, I wanted to be seduced and fucked. Something about my seductress spoke of a hidden desire, one that promised a very intense encounter.

With Chris aware of where I was going and who I was meeting, or at least her description from my 'confession' the previous week, I set off early, the restaurant was on the edge of the city centre, I could have taken a taxi, but it was not that far and besides the walk would do me good, and give me time to enjoy the anticipation.

Arriving with ten minutes to spare I found her already installed in a booth at the back of the room, the high backed booths allowed a little privacy and ensured excellent service.

As I slid into the booth, choosing to sit opposite her rather than beside her, my seductress greeted me with a very dirty smile, dirty sexy that is.

"Oh nice, I prefer this look on you, the tart look is sexy but not you, the biker chic suits you"

"Not sure I can say the same," I replied, grinning, "I kind of miss the dancing nipples." She wore a skin tight wraparound dress, those amazing tits completely covered, only their perfect curves defying the cut of the dress as easily as they defied gravity.

"Tonight I have something special in mind, are you open to a little challenge?" Her eyes flashed, that hidden desire wafting like smoke deep in those tempting pools, my need awoke instantly.

"Sure, I'm 'open' for a lot of things..."

"Excellent, then just for tonight, I'm in charge, all you have to do is follow my lead and cum as often as you can manage."

"Sure... Umm... Yes Misst.... Ma'am." There was now way I was going to spend all evening calling her Mistress, I didn't even do that for Chris, so Ma'am would have to do, even though it brought back memories of Toni, memories that had my need drooling, straining to be released.

"I've already ordered for us, and just bottled water," she paused to emphasise her words, "I think we'll both want clear heads, for later." That look in her eyes again, my need breaking it's leash, bounding forward, eager.

The service was excellent, dishes came and went, we ate mostly in silence, yet still I felt her, the way her body moved, the look in her eyes, the smiles and knowing looks, all worked their spell. I have no idea what we ate, the food was not important, all that mattered were the thinly veiled hints and my own unrestrained need. If she had touched me, even fleetingly I think I might have cum right there and then.

I was ready to leave as we finished our starter, more ready with each passing course, my seductress flexed her skills and I almost melted then and there. Even the rich fresh coffee failed to distract me. I know I tried to split the bill, fumbling for my purse as she laid a card on the small tray, an appreciative waiter palming the generous cash tip that accompanied her card.

"Cum little one, time to go."

"Yes Ma'am," oh fuck.! I almost obeyed her literally, could feel my pussy clench and my clit throbbing.

I slid off the bench seat and stood, feeling her hand cupping my ass possessively, her touch electric, her voice low, throaty as she steered me out of the restaurant, all the time talking softly, urgent whispers promising much. "I know you almost came, little one, you'll cum soon enough, I promise, tonight you'll get everything you deserve, everything."

Her hand stayed on my ass, fingers tight, her car was close, low and sleek, she opened the passengers door, "Unfasten your jeans."

For a moment I stared at her, a joke, yes? Then the hidden desire in her eyes grew, flashing, my need responded, my hands moving unbidden to comply, jeans unfastened, "now push them down, a little more, now get in." Yeah, sure, like that's gonna work, I twisted around, lowering my bare ass into the low bucket seat, her hands on my head, my shoulder, adding support whilst I twisted and squatted. Images of porta-potties flashed in my mind, not sexy, I dismissed them with a shudder and dropped the last few inches, lifted my legs, knees bent as I slotted myself into the seat. The door closed. For a moment I wondered what to do, then I grinned to myself, who was I kidding? I wanted to play this game, so why hold back? I sunk a little deeper into the bucket seat, parted my legs as much as I could and reached up, hands grabbing the bars that framed the headrest.