My Personal Whore Ch. 08

This is the eighth instalment of Yaz's adventures. For new readers, naturally, the best place to start is the first adventure but for those who wish to jump straight in, the following is a brief resume of how we got to this point.

Having first met Yaz when she was working at the Pleasure Parlour, she drove me crazy, taking over my life for the day and my dreams for the night. As wasn't happy doing what she did, she left the place but I managed to track her down and encouraged her to move in with me to begin a new life. She joined me for an evening at a jazz club, the Absolution, when some of her sexual fantasies started to emerge, in particular, her desires to be dominated by a voluptuous singer who was performing. At the same function, a slender server, working the room and a lone Scandinavian patron, a big guy called Cairn, ended the evening in his bed. Having made contact with the voluptuous singer, Yaz and I attended an address to meet with her to, hopefully, realise Yaz's fantasy. Arriving at the door we were met by the slender server who advised that Mistress was waiting for her...

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Ils sont étonnés de me voir!

The jazz club server, devoid of black and white livery.

Or the town bar server, ditto tight blue jeans.

Their eyes, wide open.

He is undressing me in his mind's eye.

Visualising me naked, aroused, ready.

She is asking herself why I am here.

They have much to learn.

"Welcome, I am Frankie, Mistress's maid."

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Lots of questions, lots of answers.

She's going inside.

Crossing the threshold, a train.

Frankie leading, you, following, me bringing up the rear.

Eyes on yours, as ever.

The hallway, dark after the sunshine without.

Halting, turning, finger across lips.

Silence.

Creeping, the stair, step by step, heart in mouth.

The landing, four doors, closed.

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Mistress's maid?

She is very attractive, erotic eyes.

Possibly not your sort, no tits to speak of.

But very kissable lips.

A nod to me, a finger, pointing at first door.

Obedience.

Twisting the handle, nerves jangling, so aroused.

Peering through the gloaming.

Punctuated, sconces of candlelight.

Hearing the door click, behind me.

Heart in mouth.

"Pull yourself together, Yaz, it's what you wanted!"

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Frankie, pointing, second door, a nod.

Entering, door closing behind.

A single chair, otherwise empty.

Approaching, recognising a robe, black.

Only one thing, undressing, self-conscious.

Assuming the robe, tying, strangely embarrassed.

Exiting, Frankie, glancing down, smiling.

Opening small table drawer, extracting.

A blindfold, becoming real now.

Behind me, aware of her fragrance, arousing.

Darkness, heart pounding, her voice.

"Vous n'oublierez jamais ce jour... I promise!"

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Scanning the room.

The only furniture, a table, large.

Approaching, various items, spread out.

Smiling upon recognition, erotic garments.

Unopened, transparent wrappings.

Sizes correct, how did she know?

Even stilettos.

Everything in black, red trim.

An envelope, my name, opening.

A blindfold, same colour scheme, a note, reading.

"Change, hide your eyes, then wait."

---- ---- ---- ----

Soft hand clasping mine, hearing door opening.

The third, perhaps.

Step by step, forward slowly, entering.

Sensing fragrances, candles, alluring.

Guided to a stop, hands on shoulders.

Pressing down, assuming a chair, lowering.

Movement behind, a hand drawn back, sensing leather.

Tightening, then the other.

Sound of chain links caressing, clasps snapping.

Unseeing, silenced, shackled.

Sensing her nearing, a whisper.

"Le meilleur siège de la maison!"

---- ---- ---- ----

Strangely self-conscious, changing quickly.

The long mirror, shaking hair loose.

Searching bag, red lips, refreshing.

Hair and lips, matching outfit.

Eyes drawn to nipples, pert, aroused.

Dropping, a smile, smooth.

A last glance, thrilled to the core.

Leaning against table, donning blindfold, waiting.

Counting seconds, minutes, one, two,..., five.

Hearing door opening, unseeing.

Sensing eyes, those of another woman.

Approaching from behind, closing.

Soft hands on shoulders, rotating.

Fingertip on my lips, suppressing a groan.

Fingertips taking nipples, squeezing, pulling, another.

Soft hands to my face, a kiss on the lips, tongue invading.

"Are you ready to worship your mistress?"

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Shackled, time passing.

The room feels cold: temperature or fear?

Wondering where you are, increasingly.

Listening hard, available senses on the alert.

Anticipation in every sinew.

Trying to imagine the scene, failing.

Waiting in the silence.

---- ---- ---- ----

A hand on her shoulder, guiding.

Exiting room, entering another.

He is restless, aware of a presence.

Positioning her, small adjustments, looking up.

Wrist shackles on chains, hanging from host.

Pulling down, lifting perfect hands, applying.

No resistance, obedience, readiness.

Standing back, admiring, desiring.

Perfect skin, figure out of this world.

She is very beautiful, très jolie.

Érotique, excitant, pour une autre femme.

Je feux l'entendre jouir.

A glance at the clock, it is time.

Lips at her ear, whispering.

"Tout est prêt, en attente de maîtresse."

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The door opens and closes, silence.

I can speak but dare not.

Listening hard: are you here?

Rattling chains, again.

A response in kind, we are together.

The next scene we shall play as one.

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Returning to the landing, the fourth door.

Time is of the essence.

Removing garments, Mistress's preference.

Stilettos, nothing else.

A symbol of control.

Selecting box of accessories.

"Maintenant on joue!"

---- ---- ---- ----

Each second, taking minutes, anticipating.

At last, a sound, a door, clip-clop, heels, approaching.

Sensing behind me, whole body on edge.

Another sound, a second door, different.

A creaking bed, manoeuvring.

Click of fingers.

Soft hands resting on shoulders, removing blindfold.

Blinking rapidly, peering, seeking co-ordination.

Amazement, eyes fixed ahead.

On the bed, resting back, eyes on mine.

Dominique.

Candlelight caressing perfect skin, curvaceous.

Braids re-woven, presented on white pillow.

Black collar, circular rings appended.

Linked to matching basque, silver buckles, tight.

Enormous breasts overflowing, awaiting attention.

Crossing legs, black fishnets, linked to basque.

Leather boots, heels, laced, knee to foot.

Red-painted fingers moving, grasping crop.

Overcome.

---- ---- ---- ----

Another click of fingers

Someone moving, coming closer, behind.

Blindfold lifting, awareness recovering, eyes circulating.

Yaz, end of the bed, shackles, dressed as a whore.

My personal whore.

The bed, taking in the scene, closing eyes.

This cannot be happening.

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The tension tangible.

Mistress about to move.

Sliding off the bed, approaching

Hands, cupping huge breasts, lifting.

Squeezing, a pause, spraying, watery white.

Soaking dark areolae, almost black, nipples erect.

Closing in, inviting, no, demanding.

Extending tongue, tasting.

THWACK!

A swish of the crop, side of the thigh, agony.

THWACK!

Other side, worse.

"Suck them, pretty one!"

---- ---- ---- ----

Straining against the shackles, desperate to intervene.

Eyes fixed, you suckling.

A glance towards me, eyes shining.

In heaven.

Another click of fingers, seeing box opening.

Mistress sitting back, end of bed, watching.

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His eyes on my nakedness, approaching.

Clamps in hand, unscrewing threads.

Nipples positioned, her eyes full of fear.

Tightening, two hands, two fingertips each, slowly.

Looking into her eyes, opening wider, pressure building.

Hearing her breath, nearing her limit.

Mistress will decide.

Her head back, body shaking, desperate to cry out.

Fingers clicking, enough.

Clipping chain to both, linking.

Releasing wrists, breathing short, fast, enduring.

Mistress resting back on bed, drawing up knees.

"You know what to do."

---- ---- ---- ----

Seeing you kneel, edging forward.

Hands on backs of thighs, pressing.

Completely shaven, your tongue caressing, exploring.

Sensing movement, strap-on being positioned, black.

Closing, hand around the shaft, guiding, aiming.

Entering, inch after inch, stretching, filling.

Starting to thrust, slowly, deeply.

Your fingers, holding lips apart, tongue lapping.

A groan from Mistress.

The night is yet young.