Sylvia's Switch Ch. 04

'Yes mistress,' I agreed.

'Did you enjoy sleeping with her?' she asked me.

I hesitated, sensing that my mistress had some sort of agenda here.

'I...I always prefer to be with you, my mistress,' I said.

'You wouldn't be being a trifle disingenuous, would you, my dear?' inquired Susana, a half-smile on her lips, 'come up to my room after coffee, please – I think I shall have to remind you of a few things.'

'Yes mistress!' I said, knowing for sure what she had in store for me.

Despite the pleasurable anticipation I felt in my whole body for my mistress's coming humiliation and possession of me, my coffee cup shook as I finished the post-lunch drink, and I checked my appearance in the mirror as I left the lounge to go up to Susana's room. Still in the silky mini-dress, which fell from my unfettered breasts in soft folds to mid-thigh, my nipples now stood out against the material, hardened by my excitement. I decided I would do, and went up to my mistress's room, knocked on the door and went in.

My mistress had taken off her street clothes, and wore only a short transparent white nightdress, trimmed with fur around the hem and collar, and white fluffy high-heeled mules. Her small breasts were clearly visible through the flimsy garment, and her lustrous black hair, which she had had pinned up during the morning, was now loose, and flowed down to the hem of her nightdress. She stood by the bed as I entered, one hand on the post of the four-poster. In her other hand, she held a bull-whip, which she idly flicked against her own leg.

Smilingly, she said, 'Take off your dress, darling!'

I reached behind me and unfastened the button at the back of the neck, then pulled down the short zipper, crossed my arms, picked up the hem of my dress, and pulled it up and over my head in a rustle of silky material. I was naked but for my stilettos, waist-chain and collar.

'You haven't put your hair up!' said Susana, rather harshly, as if I should have known she expected it of me.

'I'm sorry, mistress,' I said, 'I didn't think.'

'You didn't think. I see. Kneel on the floor!'

I did as she told me, and she came up behind me, and lifted my mane of auburn hair over my shoulder, so that it fell down over a breast, leaving my back naked and vulnerable to her whip.

She stood back, and I heard a loud swish as she tested the swing of the whip through the air. I readied myself, anticipating the sweet, awful pain. She made me wait.

'You want me to hurt you, don't you, Sylvia?' she asked me.

'Oh yes, mistress!' I said, now breathing more quickly.

'You know I love you, don't you, Sylvia?'

'Yes mistress,' I said, turning to look into her deep, dark eyes, as I spoke.

'I know you want me to hurt you, Sylvia, but I need to hear you ask me to do it, my dear.' She stroked me with whip, running it across my shoulders as she spoke.

I knew what she wanted me to say. 'Oh mistress, please let me feel your whip; hurt me, hurt me a lot – I need you to hurt me, please!'

With that, she drew away behind me and, without further ado, there was a tremendous hiss as the long leather lash flew through the air, and expertly wrapped itself around my lower back, bringing with it a fierce and instant stinging pain, which caused me to gasp and flinch. As I looked down my flank, I saw the tiny knot at the end of the lash, as it came to rest for a brief moment against my flesh.

The next stroke fell across my buttocks, with a terrible crack, and the ferocity of its sudden torment was such that I felt sure she had drawn blood. I cried out, and she threatened to gag me if I couldn't keep quiet. I endured the next three awful lashes, also on my fleshy buttocks, in silence, but had to writhe and squirm as their sheer torture took effect. She transferred her attentions to my back, whipping me three times across my sensitive upper back, and twice the end of the lash curled around to catch the sides of my breasts, and I couldn't suppress a scream. But the second time, the scream was one which combined my agony with the inevitable ecstasy that accompanies a whipping from my mistress, and when I looked around at her, she saw the longing in my eyes, and knew I was very close to my orgasm.

'Sylvia,' she said, thickly, throwing aside the whip, 'I can wait no longer, and neither can you.'

She pulled me bodily to my feet, and, ignoring my stinging, wounded arse and back, I fell onto my mistress's bed with her. She pulled me on top of her, in a '69' position, knowing that my back would never endure being underneath, and opened herself to me, as I did, in turn, to my mistress. Alternately, I tongued her soaking cunt and her dark, cavernous arsehole, which I also penetrated with first one, then two, then three fingers, then finally, drawing deep moans from my beloved, I fisted her completely, shoving my whole hand deep, deep, into her lovely, hot anus, and pumping until she screamed and came. As she did so, my own orgasm was upon me, and I was able to time it to perfection, and cum creamily into my mistress's face as she tongued me.

'Sylvia,' she said, 'that was the fuck of a lifetime!'

I had to agree. I knew I would be my mistress's willing slave for as long as she wanted me – and do anything she required of me. Love could not be stronger.