The Diary of Mistress X

The pain faded to a dull roar and gave way to pleasure as my nipples regained feeling. My honey was hanging in droplets from my trimmed bush as Mistress took what was hers to take. She rammed two of her fingers into my sodden cunt, plundering me with her wiggling digits. She willed me to cum and pushed me over the cliff with each thrust of her fingertips, exploring every crevice, until I begged her to stop. I was cumming over and over and she had wrung every ounce of strength from me. It was pleasure without end, limited by my capacity to receive it. She knew my limit and I did not. She stopped when she wanted to.

I hung there limp, my wrists reddened by the taut material binding them. My breasts were breathing the fire of the alligators that had bitten them. And down below, she had taken me with her fingers, cumming at her command until it was her will that I stop. What could I think of this experience? There was nothing I could compare it to. I had no energy. I knew that. But I knew that if Mistress asked me to get up I would summon the energy to do it. I was hers. I was hers to command.

"I'll be back sweetheart," she said tenderly. I heard her leave the room and then two sets of footsteps coming towards me.

Rita untied my wrists and the blindfold and then helped me so I was sitting on my sore rump. I was naked but I didn't care. Mistress had stripped me of my inhibitions. I was with my sisters. They were welcome to see all of me. I sat there, maybe for five minutes. My wrists felt much better, thanks to the salve that Soo rubbed into them with her gentle hands. Soo seemed to take pleasure in working the salve into my sore nipples, taming the fire that still burned within. Rita brought me a glass of ice water to revive me. Mistress was nowhere to be seen.

I caught my breath. It was the greatest experience of my life. She knew me. She knew how to play me. To make me sing for her. I cried an aria for her as she brought me down and then up and then down even further and then up even higher. I was an instrument played by a master.

Then Gwen walked in, now dressed in a fashionable suit, looking every bit the executive of a large corporation. But she shifted roles to the interviewer, and I was the interviewee.

"So how was it?"

That was about as open ended a question as I could get after the ride of my life. I remember my saying "It was awesome." At least that's what I was told I said. I was not exactly lucid at that time. I had barely a flicker of energy. But she asked me a question and I summoned the energy to utter a few words.

"You were awesome," she fired back.

"I was?" There was surprise in my voice because I was.

"I've never been with anyone who could instinctively move with me, to allow me to push you to the edge of the limits I thought you could bear. People I've been with have endured more pain than you did, but the pain lit something inside you. I've never been able to adduce a reaction like I got from you. It was beautiful to watch."

I was sitting Indian style on the floor. She was sitting across from me, her legs folded underneath her. She pressed herself up to a standing position and reached for a small book on the counter. It was a leather bound book. The book had a leather strap that had a keyhole on the front, the strap keeping the book locked shut. She sat back down and placed the book in my lap. I looked down. The leather cover looked aged, the surface gaining a patina from being handled so many times. She reached around her neck and unclasped a fine gold chain that was hanging around it. Hanging on the chain, but tucked inside her blouse, was a small brass key. She laid the key on top of the book. She waited for me to open it.

My hands were shaking as I tried to fit the tiny key into the keyhole. I used my other hand to steady it, and unlocked it. I opened it up and the cover bore the illustration of a single red rose and the year, 1999. There was a yellow sticky marking a page near the end of the volume. I opened the book to that page and starting reading the entry.

October 21, 1999

Dear Diary,

I met the most delicious woman today who I'm sure will be my sub. She's beautiful and fresh, and eager to learn the secrets that I possess. It'll be a beautiful journey for us both. She happened upon me in a chance meeting with a mutual acquaintance, and soon we were sharing our most closely guarded secrets. I told her that my dark secret was to dominate another. To accept the willing surrender of a woman to me. And her wish was a mirror of mine. To be controlled by another. To bend to her will. To gain strength from it. To experience unimaginable pleasure.

Her name is Arlene.

Last night we took a bath together . . .

* * *

So it was true. It was her after all.

We were both reliving her diary entry from twenty years ago.

I looked into her eyes, probing for the answer. Could she learn to love me as an equal and dominate me as her lover or was she just using me as a pawn for her amusement?

That was for me to discover.