Sheila Ch. 01

I didn't let go. Her hips were trying to buck me off and didn't stop until she used her hand to push me away. She pulled away, gasping for breath, with the look of pleasant surprise.

"You're a beautiful woman," I told my lover.

She caught her breath. "So are you, my pet." She got up and poured me another drink.

After my fourth scotch everything became fuzzy bears and kittens. In other words, I was a happy drunk. I have no recollection of what actually happened next. I just remember it happened over and over.

Chapter Five

Submission?

Kasey and Camille were downstairs in the kitchen. I was lying face down in the bed in an upstairs bedroom, completely fucked out and seriously hung over. My butt was sore and I needed to pee badly. I don't they think they knew I could hear them through the open bedroom door.

"She was a great [garbled]?" said a voice that had to be Camille's.

"As good [garbled] advertised," said a voice I'm sure was Kasey's. You can't fake the full throated voice of a tall redhead.

"There's something [garbled] ... about her, isn't there?" asked Camille.

"There is ... she's pretty self-confident. But I'm not sure if that's a façade. What do you think?"

There was a considerable pause. Then Camille said, "There is, but I also saw her softer side. It's hard to know until you ... ummm ... [garbled] her."

Kasey must have been wearing slippers. I heard her pad up the stairs. She entered the room, seeing me lying twisted in the sheets.

"Tough night?"

"You would know."

"You like to drink."

"It's in my blood. I'm Irish, you know."

"Between your red hair, your hot temper and your love of whisky I wouldn't have guessed."

"What happened last night?"

"How does your butt feel?"

"Sore, sensitive and warm."

"You have a very smart mouth."

"That's true."

"I punished you last night ... with your permission." She bent over and raked her fingernails across the fine welts on my ass. It felt like she was dragging fire with her fingernails. I winced and cried out.

"You don't remember, do you?"

"I don't," I said.

"Are you forgetting something, my pet?

And then something through the mist of the prior evening made me say, "I don't ... Mistress."

I was Sheila Fucking Lawson. What made me say that? What happened last night?

"That's better," she whispered in my ear as she leaned forward. "Now we need to make up for lost time. Now, my pet, show me that cute ass of yours again."

To Be Continued ...