The Mask of Submission Ch. 03

It was like a dream come true, a dream I had never known existed within me, but even so I wanted more. Even though Simon fucked me as often as he was able, even though I spent nearly the whole of my time off in some sexually charged and thrilling situation I still found myself craving more. Somehow I was even more surprised by this than the passion which Simon and I found ourselves capable of manifesting, that feeling that there still seemed to be more, so much more, that I had yet to experience.

No matter how many orgasms Simon brought me to, no matter how many times his stiff white prick exploded in my wet black lips, No matter how often he called me his slut, his bitch, his black whore, and even his slave, I still desired more and more.

I didn't share this with Simon of course, fearful that it might rattle his masculine confidence. In those periods when Simon needed to go out and work on his campaign I am sure that he imagined me asleep at home, resting up for another furious session of unbridled lust. But in truth I hardly had a moment to rest at all, my libido seemed to be on a frightening overdrive, and even without Simon's company I found myself needing stimulation.

I think in part that it was how familiar I was with Simon, and him with me. If he surprised me with his eagerness to explore, there were still unspoken limits that carried over from our long and proper years together. As rough and as commanding as Simon had become, he was still not wholly dominant. There was a block inside of him that he could not break, I was still his loving wife and there were certain areas which he did not seem capable of going to. As inventive as our sex quickly became, it was largely a matter of a few props and of location.

Simon seemed delighted to learn that I would happily suck his dick whenever he happened to get it out, yet he never once returned the favor, never put his lips and tongues to my velvet slut and tasted me there. As much as Simon loved to play with my ass, it really surprised me that he did not fuck me there, did not so much as slip a finger into my tight back passage and I was growing more curious by the day to know what that might be like.

I was very curious too about the many marital aids that Simon had bought but seemed somewhat hesitant to use upon me. A few times he had held a small vibrator to my clit, but he had bought well over a dozen dildos and plugs of various shapes and sizes which he seemed a bit too intimidated by to take out of the box, much less fuck me one of them. Maybe it was part of some long unspoken insecurity that Simon still possessed after all the years we had been together, that as a black woman his white penis might not wholly satisfy me, that maybe he did not wish to remind me of the dew black cocks which I had taken before I ever met him. There was nothing to it of course, size was not something I had ever thought a lot about, Simon had always been enough for me. But gazing at all those rubber implements, in all their colors and their variations I could not help but wonder what they might be like...

Finally, no matter how many orgasms I had, for all the heat of the sex that washed over us, nothing truly drove the fantasies from my mind. If anything they only fueled them, made such illicit thoughts more intense and more desirable. They were so taboo, so illicit and completely forbidden...I just seemed incapable of driving them out of my head. There was no chance that I was going to admit to my loving husband that sometimes when he fucked me I thought about the heavy heaving black breasts of my mother, that sometimes As he brought the lash down upon my throbbing ass I imagined my own dear Corrie with her legs spread wide before me, caramel fingers spreading the folds of her glistening sex and commanding me to taste her...no. No matter how far we went I was resolved to keep such things to myself.

And yet they were unbearable. One evening when Simon had to go to a fundraising dinner and left me alone for four hours I could not think of anything to do but retrieve the photograph of Corrie from the place on the bookshelf where I had hidden it, and rub my well used pussy to the sight of my daughter tonguing a young man's ass. When even this was not far enough for me I decided to take it a step further. I finally got up the nerve and took a black six inch dildo out of the box beneath our bed, closed my eyes and went to town.

That night, knowing that there was no hiding from my fantasies I simply gave into them, and I imagined myself in a room with both my mother and my daughter, a black room from which no sound could ever escape where they placed the cuffs upon my wrists and a heavy leather collar around my neck and used me in all of the ways that I had never before considered being used. I pictured myself upon my hands and knees, my face buried between my mothers wide spread thighs, tasting the place where I had come from and hearing the passion of her moans as she told me that her daughter had become such a good little slut, as all the while it was Corries small hand that worked the dildo in and out of my slurping cunt, making my hips buck back against every thrust.

I imagined her saying, "You like that mamma? You like being your daughter's slave? It's ok mamma, I know what my little black whore needs."

As she slid the middle finger of her left hand through the tight resistance of my asshole, buried that finger to the knuckle in my bowels as she laughed and I was made to cum from the sudden invasion of my last virgin hole...

All a fantasy of course, it was my own hand that worked the dido in and out of my wet cunt, it was my own finger that had slid down beneath me to pierce my unused anus, it was my own voice that formed the words of those women who could never know or understand as I came furiously and shaking at the thought of them.

And so our lives began to change. The first week ended all too soon, and I went back to work exhausted and sore but delighted all the same. We slid into a careful balance, upright and calm in our public lives, debauched and unbridled lust filling our alone time. In spite of my desire for more, those first few weeks were boundlessly happy, probably the most enjoyable that Simon and I had ever spent together through the whole course of our marriage. If it was not perfect, it was in fact quite close, and if that had been all that had ever been I think I still would have been quite happy.

It was about a month after it had all began that Simon surprised me with an odd proposal.

It was morning time, and we were in the midst of our new routine, Simon eating bacon and eggs at the kitchen table while I crouched on the floor between his knees, sucking his dick while he ate and read the morning paper. I was confused when he asked me to stop for a little bit, but did so, figuring that perhaps he felt like fucking me that morning instead, but nothing could have shocked me more than what Simon began to discuss with me when he pulled me up and sat me down upon his lap.

" Please don't read too far into this baby...If you say know, then it's no, and you know that I would never do anything like this without you...but all of this has been good for us hasn't it? I mean, exploring our fantasies, things like that?"

"It sure has baby." I purred and nuzzled my face against his neck, reaching down to stroke his glistening prick with my hand. "It's been great..."

"Well, something that I've been thinking about since we started all this...and I really should have said something before I started looking into it probably...but how would you fell about a threesome Gwen. You and me and...well another woman?'

Even after everything that we had been through together I was pretty stunned, and my first fear was that Simon had someone particular in mind, that maybe there was some volunteer on his campaign or some young assistant at his office that he had always wanted to have sex with and at last he saw a means of opportunity.

"You have someone in mind?" I asked him nervously, not knowing what else to say.

"No, no. Nothing like that Gwen...nobody that you or I know...just something casual. Something very discreet."

"Well..." I chewed my lip imagining the possibility. I had fantasized quite a bit recently about other women, but they had always been two women in particular, and quite unobtainable. I had never before imagined myself with another woman, much less sharing Simon with one.

He assured me again that he would completely understand if it made me uncomfortable, but he admitted that he had already looked into the matter a bit.

"I've been doing research online. I wouldn't want anything sleazy, like a hooker or something...I know how silly that distinction sounds...but I've found a couple services that advertise for things like this. Women who enjoy that sort of thing, not for money or anything, just for the thrill of it. And since you've been so eager to explore your submissive side...well I guess I thought something along those lines might turn you on. Basically I found a few women that are into...well, they are into dominating other women."

"So you and some woman would both being using me?" And as I said those words I realized the prospect was indeed a little thrilling. More than a little even.

"If it would make you more comfortable I wouldn't need to do anything with the other woman...I'd be happy just to watch, you know? I'd only fuck you...but I'd watch her with you as well."

"But baby, what about the campaign? What about your career? I mean, if something like this got out..."

"I've considered that." Simon countered, it was obvious that he was excited by the fact that I was even entertaining the notion and he was eager to allay any fears that might keep it from coming to pass.

"I've found a few women on line, one in particular...she insists on total anonymity. No names exchanged, we'd all meet someplace far from where we live...We'd wear masks. She'd never see our faces and we'd never see hers. I get the feeling that is part of the excitement for her."

"You've been talking with her then? This woman?"

"I found her profile on a sight, and if I'm honest she was definitely the most attractive woman looking for something like this. She had a picture posted that didn't show her face, if you wanted to set something up she requests a photograph of you, once again, no faces. If she likes what she sees she gives you access to a live stream from her webcam, so you can verify that she is who she's passing herself off as, and you do the same."

"You've done all this?"

"Yeah." He admitted a little sheepishly. " I guess I just figured nothing would come of it, but when I sent her our picture she agreed right away. So it's for real...which is why I'm bringing it up now. If you think it over and decide it's something you want to try then I'll set it up. We'll arrange a place to meet, we'll discuss ground rules and limits...but honestly Gwen, it's only if you are into it. Say the word and I'll never bring this up again, I promise you."

I asked Simon for a day to think it over, and for the image of the woman that he had contacted. Really though I was almost certain that I was going to agree to it, I just didn't want to rush headlong into something foolish without at least weighing the possible consequences.

That day, sitting at my desk in my office with the strangers website pulled up in front of me I tried to imagine what it would really be like, if it was something I wanted or just a terrible idea born out of free reigning lust.

It was hard to tell many details of the woman on the page, which was almost certainly the intention. She had been photographed sitting cross legged in an office chair, and I where I had been expecting someone wrapped in leather and thigh high stilettos, the woman in the photograph wore a white blouse and knee length burgundy skirt, her legs covered in black stockings. It was clear that she was slim and fit, that she had a good figure, but nothing else. Over her face she wore a white mask like something out of the phantom of the opera and her hair that emerged over it was red, so bright that it was clearly a dye job. A good looking woman, almost certainly a good deal younger than me.

Honestly it was her profile that swayed me far more than her photograph.

The woman stated that she was a long time and very experienced dominatrix, confident in her ability to give her partners exactly what they might desire. She wrote that she had dommed both men and women, and was fully comfortable with both, and furthermore that she understood that different people had different boundaries and no matter what happened she was always careful not to transgress the rules that had been established. She promised to be clean and healthy and asked that anyone who wished to partner with her do the same.

When I read her list of favorite fetishes I admit that my mouth began to water. She loved bondage in any form, heavy or light. She loved to suck dicks and equally to eat women out. She wrote that she was very anal oriented, that nothing turned her on more than penetrating somebody in the ass, especially if it was there first time. It did not matter man or woman, she loved it all the same. Most importantly to me the woman had posted that she had a fetish for women of color, especially for those with large breasts and juicy asses.

"There is nothing sexier than making a woman of color submit to you." the woman had written. "So much of our society tells them that they have to be strong and assertive, that there is no room in their lives for the joy that true submission can bring. It's a deep taboo, and it's one that I just love to test the limits of."

She could have gone on to say nearly anything, it wouldn't have mattered. Reading that drove any lingering concerns straight out of my head and that night I told Simon that I was fully on board and the sooner he could make it happen the better.

Which is how we came to find ourselves a week later in a hotel room in Hilton Head South Carolina, as outside a tropical storm violently rattled the sliding glass door of our balcony and we watched the sea coming in towering waves to break upon the dark sands and rock of the shore.

I do not think Simon or I had ever felt so dejected as we did that night, watching the storm that we had prayed would miss us rage outside. We sat together on the edge of the bed, the masks we had brought for the occasion dangling foolishly from our fingertips and neither of us having any idea of what to say. The woman we had contacted was already an hour late, we had no way of reaching her nor she of us, exchanging numbers would have shattered the anonymity that all of us seemed to desire. We could only wait with dimming hope that the woman might somehow make it, but the storm seemed only to grow worse and worse and it looked like out desires would simply be rained out, that we had made such plans and gone so far for nothing more than a night in he close confinement of a rented room

Ordinarily Simon and I would have simply shrugged our shoulders and made the best of it, tried our best to enjoy our short vacation in spite of everything. But we had gotten our hopes up quite high, we had been fantasizing about that night and what would occur all week...there was nothing we could do that would replace the experience we were sure we had missed out upon, nothing to do but wait and hope that we could reschedule for sometime soon.

And then, of course, she came.

There was a knock upon the door and Simon and I both looked at one another before Simon took his mask in hand and went to the door, calling out to see who it was. I could not hear the muffled reply, but Simon looked back to me with the biggest grin upon his face.

"Masks on baby." He told me, as he raised his own to cover his face. "It looks like this might be our lucky night after all."

He waited until I had hurriedly slipped the mask over my face before he opened the door and she strode in. Just walked right past Simon without a word, like it was her place, like it had always been her place. I had seen a picture of her, but even so I think that in my mind I had been preparing myself for some kind of let down. That the photograph would prove to have been an old one, or somehow touched up. It did not matter that Simon assured me that he had seen her on the live cam and the picture was accurate. I had prepared myself for anything, but when she walked in I saw that I need not have bothered. She looked exactly as she had in the photograph. The fact was that she looked better.

The mask was the same, the shock of bright dyed hair. She was dressed down, a long black coat with the collar turned up, dripping with the rain of the storm it reached her knees, and beneath she seemed to have on jeans and sneakers. She looked casual, maybe a concession to the storm, but even through the long black jacket it was clear that her figure was full and shapely. More than anything else I think it was the air of confidence that poured off of her that drew my eye and caught the breath in my lungs. The way that she did not look around, just seemed to control the room without the slightest effort, so casual that it was hard to say that she had even noticed the storm.

She did not say hello, and she did not apologize for being late. She simply stood before me in the center of the room, her hands in the pockets of her jacket and waited as Simon moved around to stand beside me. She peered at us through the dark holes in her plain white mask, and after a moment she gave the smallest of nods.

"Alright." She said. " Let's get to this. I take it both of you are well aware of the ground rules we've discussed? We're all still on board?"

Both Simon and I agreed that we were, our voices small and meek compared to her calm and measured tone.

" Good." The woman declared. "Tonight you may both refer to me as mistress."

She nodded casually towards me. "You I will refer to as Slave."

Her mask moved just the slightest as she cocked her head towards Simon. "As per your request I will call you Sir. Do I make myself clear?"

When she had heard our assent the woman nodded one more time. She had barley moved from her place in the center of the room, had not even withdrawn her hands from her pockets.

" Alright, then let's not waste any more time. I'd like to see what I am working with here."

She ordered both of us to strip. The woman's instructions had been very clear and both Simon and I had been careful to follow them to the letter. We had both showered and cleaned our bodies and we had both trimmed our pubic hair carefully. With a great deal of embarrassment I had even given myself an enema, the first time I had ever done so. Other than the plain white masks which we had brought we wore only bathrobes and nothing underneath. At her instructions both of us opened our robes and let them fall away, stood naked before the woman in the mask, allowing her to look us over.

At first I kept my eyes on the floor, my face was hot with embarrassment and my heart was hammering in my chest. I was giddy at the thought of this new experience but still my old modesty clung to life and it took every ounce of willpower I possessed not to cover myself with my hands, a vain attempt to shield my nudity from the woman's gaze.

When at last I forced myself to look up, it was not at the woman before me but at Simon, and I saw that he too was standing with his masked face lowered towards the floor, and I could see that his white skin was flushed bright red with the embarrassment of the moment. But I saw too that his prick was hard between his legs, and so if he was feeling timid as I was he was also feeling the same heady thrill in the presence of that masked stranger.

As though the woman had been waiting for me to make a move, no sooner had I glanced at Simon than she ordered me to come and stand before her, a voice that brooked no argument and but sent my eyes racing back towards my feet, as I watched as if in a dream as I took small steps forward across the hotel carpet to where the masked stranger stood waiting.