Paula and Rose

If one excluded the jewelled ornamentation of pierced ears, nipples and clit-hood, petite Rose at this moment was as naked as on the day she first arrived on planet Earth. Her long straight fair hair fell naturally onto her shoulders. It was satin smooth to the touch. By lifting her head and pushing out her breasts, it would slide naturally to hang down her back. As ever, she was eager to please her domme Paula, who was her benefactress, mistress and lover.

Paula worked for a high profile law firm in the city. A confident mature lady, and not one to be trifled with, she was a high earner too. Her wardrobe was full of designer clothes and shoes... and more shoes. Even her casual attire smacked of quality and style, such as the black Skiim calf-leather mini-skirt she had 'thrown on' on this particular occasion. She was comfortable with the way it contrasted her rather slutty low cut leopard-print top. More than comfortable, in fact. Her day had been stressful - now was the time to go rogue, escape, and abandon respectability and convention.

"On my lap, Rose, sweetie," Paula instructed. "Straddle. Facing away. Legs nice and wide apart. Good girl."

Theirs was a simple yet beautiful relationship, albeit one based on carnal desire. Paula was the older mother-figure, Rose the younger, emotionally insecure, and somewhat masochistic partner and live-in housekeeper. They slept together, relaxed and dined together, and frequently kissed and cuddled. And, unsurprisingly, despite their meagre selection of sex toys, they regularly indulged in adult games considered taboo by less liberated couples. Of the two women, Paula was understandably the more inventive, and on this occasion, was sitting upright on a fireside chair, knees together, orchestrating the scene.

As a precaution, Paula hitched up and straightened her skirt. If necessary, it would wipe clean more easily than other softer absorbent fabrics. Rose lowered herself into a comfortable position, glancing down to check her ladyshave had left her mons pubis soft, smooth and devoid of unsightly hair, exactly as Mistress liked it.

"There we are. Nice and comfy, aren't we?" Paula whispered, slipping her arms round Rose's upper body, taking in each hand a firm hold of young C-cup breasts, finger tips pinching, then kneading each nipple, carefully avoiding the pretty stoned rings which decorated them. This activity continued for some minutes, while Paula wound down and de-stressed herself after a tediously long day in the city. Rose could only gasp and moan, lapsing dreamily into submission and oblivious of the pain. Her dreams were of the perfect lifestyle she had attained since she and Paula had become 'an item'. Her past life had been a mish-mash of insecurity, lack of self-confidence, and confusion about her own sexuality.

Eventually, Rose's daydream came to an abrupt halt. She felt Mistress's lips softly brushing the side of her neck, just below the ear. Rose knew what was to follow - it was almost standard procedure... a fierce French kiss! The mark was bound to last for days - it's significance being akin to that of a branding iron, although the domme didn't really need to make her mark - Rose had absolutely no intention of 'running away'.

Leaving one arm to cradle Rose's boobs, Paula slid her free hand down over Rose's tummy and onwards, until her palm covered a smooth warm vulva. Smartly manicured fingers then gently opened up young pussy lips, stroked a fast-wetting vagina and massaged an already hard clitoris, duly collecting copious fresh secretion.

"Naughty slut girl," Paula whispered playfully in Rose's ear. "Now you have to lick it off, don't you, you brazen hussy." The wetted hand moved up to Rose's dry open mouth, and the 'naughty slut girl' enthusiastically sampled the taste of her own cunt juice.

Paula, a health and fitness freak, had recently taken to eating pineapple, having read that its juice can make your vagina taste better and sweeter, thanks to its acidic pH level and high sugar content. Research into the theory was ongoing. Rose stood aside while Paula eased down and removed her damp frilly Janet Reger panties.

"Now on your knees, you tarty lezzer, and earn your keep!" They both enjoyed the playful banter. And Rose needed no further instruction, shifting handfuls of silky fair hair out of the way before moving in between Paula's thighs, preparing to tongue her mistress's gaping pudenda. And as Rose competently licked, sucked and kissed every sweet spot, crevice and fold, Paula threw her head back and tensed her whole body, giving in, before long, to a deliciously uncontrollable g-spot climax. Rose withdrew, her head full of the intoxicating mix of Paula pheromones, new leather and expensive Chanel perfume... and a hint of tropical fruit.

"Rose," Paula said, as they subsequently cuddled together on the sofa, "I have to go away for a couple of days."

"Oh Goddess!" Rose complained.

"It's an important Law Society convention up in town. In the Savoy Hotel too! Only..."

"Only..?" Rose anxiously pressed for more details.

"Only Geoffrey Walbeck wants me to sleep with him."

"What??" cried Rose. "He's your boss! He can't do that. He's horrible! Old, bald and podgy. You pointed him out to me once, at that social."

"He chairs the promotions board, sweetie. If I sleep with him, I may, repeat 'may' get given the Department Head job that's become vacant. If I refuse him, I definitely won't get given it. Simple as that."

"But that's not right, Mistress. He's married! Isn't he? Tell his wife. Do something. It's not fair!" Rose was most indignant.

"It's the way of the world, sweetie," Paula explained. "It's how things work in business. Head of Department would be a big step up in salary. Can't let the opportunity slip by."

Rose folded her arms, even more miffed, quietly fuming. Then after a delay, and wiping a tear, "I'll pack your travelling case, Mistress."

"Thank you sweetie."

The following evening, Rose sat alone on the lounge settee, unhappy. All she could think about was her beloved mistress in London somewhere, being clumsily groped by a smelly fat old man. Chauvinist pig! Devoid of alternative amusement, Rose raided the toy drawer. A particular dildo caught her eye - a large pink erect penis with lifelike glans, manufactured to the highest quality with rubberised synthetic material, lending it a subtle bendiness and realistic longitudinal veins. Rose stared at it with hatred, then inserted it in her mouth. She was reminded of times past when she would play with boys, being at that age when one experimented indiscriminately. She recalled the episode with spotty Peter, and his semen splattering onto her face. She then thought of Geoffrey Walbeck. And clenched her teeth. And there was an ominous crack...

Paula at last returned home from the convention. They hugged and kissed each other. Paula left her case and some shopping in the hallway. "Er, how did the conference go, Mistress?" Rose asked, trying to disguise her apprehension.

"Excellent," Paula announced. "And I didn't have to take my knickers down for anyone."

Rose was visibly reassured. "You told fatso to go fuck himself? Good for you Mistress!"

"Language, Rose! Language! At the last minute, his wife decided to accompany him. So, he was somewhat disadvantaged in terms of midnight room-swapping. Or, perhaps she had got wise to his philandering. Anyway, I had a long conversation with the Lady Chief Executive of Jensmiths - a top women's rights solicitors, and she wants me to come for an interview for a vacant senior consultant position. I go for a formal interview Monday."

"Oh, that's wonderful, Mistress! I'm sure you'll get it."

"Yes, and also," Paula had a gleam in her eye. "I did some shopping in town." She took the carrier bag over to the chest and deposited some new and interesting acquisitions in the top drawer. A damaged article therein caught her eye...

"Have you anything you want to tell me Rose?"

Rose gulped as unnoticeably as she could. "Um..."

Paula raised aloft the doomed dildo, holding it out horizontal and by the balls end. The inch and a half at the glans end shivered, wobbled, and then suddenly drooped alarmingly to a 45 degree angle, the whole toy remaining held intact purely by the pink vinyl skin.

Rose blushed. "Sorry Mistress. I was so angry."

"These look like teeth marks," Paula said, examining the damage.

"I didn't mean to break it," Paula whispered, knowing her defence was somewhat tenuous. "I couldn't bear the thought of that horrid man..."

"Rose. You can't go through life biting the end off men's cocks. You'll get into some serious trouble."

"No Mistress."

"It's naughty."

"Yes Mistress."

"Very... naughty."

"Yes Mistress."

"And you know what happens to very naughty girls."

Rose did know, but far from being alarmed, she was aroused, excited by the prospect of laying across Paula's lap, bare bottom raised, feeling the sting of Mistress's strap.

Paula had recently researched the efficacy of kegels - a regular exercise regime involving clenching muscles in the lower pelvis, supposedly to enhance blood flow to those sensitive areas subject to orgasmic seizure. In Rose's case, her throbbing bottom cheeks more than effectively now aroused every erogenous zone in her female anatomy. And it was bedtime.

Rose lay on her back, her legs wide apart and her knees raised, watching while Paula adjusted the settings on the newly acquired harness, complete with wearer's internal curved vaginal stimulator. Finally, the all new 'Big-boy' rippled and upward-curved dildo with moulded testicles was snapped easily into the Vac-u-lock crotch position. A quick smattering of lube and Paula was ready to mount her love-struck object of desire.

The initial penetration was slow and easy - the technique needed some care. Rose gazed up at her gorgeous and thoughtfully inventive mistress. It was reminiscent of one's 'first time' when the excitement of the unknown meets the reality of practical procedure. But there were no mishaps - Big-boy slid beautifully past open outer and inner labia to its full length, caressing as it travelled, the roof of Rose's vagina. Paula too found the feel and shape of the internal attachment surprisingly satisfying. They experimented with some short slow thrusting. Abdomens came together, as did their boobs - naked unsupported tits squashed and squeezed each other, while erect nipples jousted with their counterparts. Even rubbing noses together, normally a simple show of affection, seemed to add an erotic intimacy to the occasion. As confidence in the technique grew, and thrusting became more intense, inevitably each woman, almost simultaneously eventually experienced that climactic rush of blood to the frontal roof of the vagina. Harness removed, they lay replete in each others arms. Paula was first to speak.

"Rose."

"Mistress?"

"We cannot go on like this."

Alarm bells rang in Rose's head. Her poor heart began to sink and her eyes welled up. Was her perfect dream world suddenly about to collapse around her? Was she about to lose the one true love she'd ever had, her rock, her minder... her Goddess!?

"We should get married. My darling Rose, will you marry me?"

There was only the briefest of silence while Rose fought to stifle her feelings of joy. Then she burst into an uncontrollable flood of tears.

End.