Chapter 10

 

On the drive over Dawn got her mind right. The unexpected and lascivious invitation so soon after fingering herself to orgasm watching Indira and her daughter make love had thrown her off. Way off. However, the aching burn of the sunburn on her ass as she drove the Cadillac made her angry.

The vicious scrape of clothing as she walked up the flagstones to that granite should-have-been-a-museum mansion of Monica’s made her furious.

She rang the gong of a doorbell and waited for Monica to answer. She couldn’t help glancing at her watch. 12:08 pm. The sample time displayed on digital clock radios for sale all over the world. Eight minutes late. She was angry she cared enough to look at the time. She was angry at the constricting fear she felt realizing she was tardy. What would Monica do to her?

Nothing damn it!

She’d never let her!

Dawn almost never swore, not even to herself. It wasn’t ladylike. She really was agitated. She wasn’t violent but she actually felt like punching Monica the moment she saw her. She wouldn’t. That wasn’t ladylike either. Anyways, Monica was so much larger than her. If she punched her, even if her little fist landed, Monica would probably laugh and next thing Dawn knew she’d be bent across the lesbian’s knees taking a severe spanking session.

The thought made Dawn so mad she thought she wouldn’t be able to help herself and really would try punching Monica….

She pushed the button to the darn door gong again.

It was so hot out it made her feel dizzy. First Monica gave her this horrible sunburn and now here she was cooking in the sun again for her. Her sunburn would be sunburned!

The door opened and Monica stood there wearing a huge bra encompassing her fat breasts and nothing else other than sandals. Dawn couldn’t help looking at that huge red-brown bush over and all around Monica’s heavy labia. Good God, didn’t the woman ever trim her pubic hair? Dawn was so relieved she hadn’t seen Monica’s crotch up close during their previous encounter. That Monica had somehow put her in a terrible state of arousal and if she had forced… asked… Dawn for reciprocation, well, Dawn knew she would have done it, and would have done whatever else. She’d been in a state of absent will. A terrible shameful thing….

“Honey! You’re late. You must know it too, you’re all red with embarrassment. ”

“It’s called a sunburn. ”

“You look serious. Come on in, we’ll talk. ”

“Forget it, Monica. We’ll talk right here. ”

“You must be joking. You’re getting even more sunburned! Besides, look at me. ”

Monica used flowing hand movements like a game show hostess showing off potential winnings, in this case Monica’s lush body. Dawn felt like a game show contestant with a chance to win a fur coat. In this case, instead of a fur coat, it would be Monica’s thickly furred pussy.

“All right. But no sunbathing this time. ”

“It’s a deal, Honey. ”

It was weird following that bare, naked, womanly rear. Monica had a little extra weight but somehow in all the right places and it only made her even more sexy. That is, to men and other lesbians, of course, not to Dawn.

The bare ass led her to a cushy den. Monica’s partial nudity made it plain the two of them must be completely alone in the huge building. The nudity did make Dawn nervous for obvious reasons but it was a relief to know that mean-looking lowly and low to the ground Mr. Johnson wasn’t near. He creeped Dawn out worse than Monica and he’d never even done anything to her.

Dawn was relieved Monica didn’t try to sit right next to her. She couldn’t stand, or withstand, any contact at all from this overly womanly woman and not only because of her sensitive burn. Monica sat in the cushioned chair seven feet across from her. Quite proper. Except for the splayed legs. Those sexy legs acted like gutters running Dawn’s bouncing eyes continually up to again and again accidentally look at those puffed labial lips pushing through the red-brown overgrowth. Autumn pussy. Dawn nearly giggled like a little girl. This whole situation made her so nervous. She hated confrontation. Nervousness pushed aside the anger.

“You seem upset. No matter. I have some ideas for relaxing you,”Monica practically purred.

“Save your foot rub for a woman who is actually a lesbian, unlike me. ”

Monica used her mock-offended voice, “Dawn, after all I’ve done for you, you sound so very ungrateful. ”

“After all you’ve done for me? Like what, giving me this darn terrible sunburn? ”

“Silly little dear, I didn’t give you that sunburn, the sun did. That’s why it’s called “sun” burn, not “Monica” burn. I was only to blame for the burning fire in your delicious pussy. But you shouldn’t “blame” me for that either. No, you should thank me. ”

“Thank you? ”Dawn felt like snorting delicately in disbelief and then walking out. She couldn’t do that yet though. Something about Monica fascinated her but not in a healthy way. What was the source of her fascination? It wasn’t Monica flexing her legs open and closed so her knees gently kissed together on each inward scissoring. That did often cause Dawn’s eyes to dart to Monica’s jungled womanhood but that wasn’t entirely the source of fascination. It was Monica’s perspective. Her mindset was obscene… but not completely illogical.

“Yes. Thank me. It’s only civil. ”

“Why would I thank you? ”

“For the sex obviously! I ended your long dry spell since the death of your husband with a puddle of wetness in, on, and from your pussy. ”

“I… I didn’t want that. I told my husband when he was dying that I wouldn’t have sex with any other man and, to me, that meant no sex at all. Because I’m no lesbian! ”

“Maybe you aren’t but your pussy sure is. It proved it when I licked all that pussy juice from it. That pussy juice didn’t come from my mouth, it came from your pussy. Only a turned on pussy juices up like that. ”

“Look, I came here to tell you whatever happened the other day is over and done; in the past and with nothing like it in the future. ”

“This is the thanks I get after all the pleasure I gave you, Honey, bringing sex back into your life? ”

“It was all wrong. ”

Monica allowed her legs to lock open at their widest distance apart. She licked two of her fingers on her right hand while her left spread her heavy pussy lips. Then the wet fingers were brought down to her upper slit to rub circularly on her clitoris, “I’ll tell you what’s wrong. A prime healthy pussy like yours retired and out of action to honor a misguided promise to a dying man. A man so selfish he allowed you to make the promise and even accepted it to bind you to it. What good is that pussy sitting on the sideline to a dead man? ”

It was rude and crude but what she said made a shocking amount of sense. Dawn noticed that Monica worked her two fingers with a good amount of pressure in a clockwise direction on and around her clitoris. Dawn realized she also rubbed at herself in a clockwise direction when, sometimes, she gave in to the need to relieve sexual tension. Most recently in her daughter’s closet. The recollection made her shame well up. Studying Monica’s technique dreamily she realized Monica pressed the clitoris harder than she did. Maybe, sometime, she’d try being a little rougher with her own clitoris….

Dawn could almost feel those fingers at the top of her own little love valley. She suddenly realized she better get out of there quick before Monica kept making sense, so much sense that Dawn ended up doing things that were not sensible.

When Dawn looked up from the spectacle of Monica’s on-display and rapidly swamping pussy her cheeks burned with embarrassment underneath her sunburn. She saw Monica was smiling at her snidely. The bitch had noticed her looking at the wet mound, not with disgust, but with desire.

Monica sounded confident, “I’m going to undue your deathbed promise to your selfish dying husband. Gradually, by stages, but you’ll love every stage. Or at least lust every stage. ”

“No, this is wrong. This…. ,” Dawn looked pointedly at Monica’s enflamed pussy, “That! It isn’t what I want. This isn’t fair. The foot rub trick, the sunburn, the nasty note mentioning my daughter. How dare you! ? ! ”

“Oh, so you’re worried about fairness are you, Baby? How many orgasms did I give you the other day? ”

“I don’t know. ”

“Maybe you don’t. Maybe your third and last one wiped out part of your memory. Or maybe you just have selective memory. You remember my wrongs but fail to remember the favors I did you, the sexual favors. Who is the unfair one here? ”

“So I climaxed…. ”

“Three times! ”

“All right, so I had… three… orgasms. Fine. It doesn’t matter. It’s over. ”

“Hmm, what about fairness? ”

“I don’t understand. ”

“I gave you three orgasms. You owe me three orgasms. ”

“No! ”

“Yes. Fairness isn’t always getting your own way. It’s equality and compromise. As soon as you and I have an equal number of orgasms we’re even, you owe nothing. Then you can do as you wish and I’ll leave you -- and your daughter -- completely alone. ”

Dawn, openly thoughtful, watched Monica’s fingers swirling her swollen clitoris. She tried to think of a way out of this mess. Away from the mess between Monica’s legs!

Dawn cleared her swollen throat, “Your… fingers… seem to be doing a good job. They’ll give you as many orgasms as you want, you know. ”

Monica laughed and then tensed her belly in passion, “And you know, by now, fingers are not the same, not as wonderful, as an expert or at least hard-working sexy mouth. ”

Well… Dawn could not deny that….

Contemplation caused a telltale delay.

Monica bumped her mound up against her fingers a few times rapidly and then slouched down in her seat until her ass was suspended over the edge. She spread her legs even wider. The invitation was obvious but Monica left no room for doubt, “Come over here and get your face between my legs. Now, you stupid little bitch. ”

Dawn was surprised by her vicious tone and the nasty word at the end of the sentence. It was amazing how commanding Monica was. Such passionate willpower. Dawn tried to muster a verbal denial or to scrape together enough internal will to stand up to the woman. But Monica had all the advantages. Her will, her experience, the indirect threat to Dawn’s reputation and daughter, her past intimate success with Dawn, this “fairness” thing, and, most of all her red arousal-flushed pussy wafting a certain odor across to Dawn.

How could Dawn stand up to all that? She knew she couldn’t or at least wouldn’t.

Monica knew it, too, in a more literal sense.

“Kneel down sexy bitch. Kneel! ”

Compared to going down on Monica, simply kneeling as ordered seemed a lot easier to Dawn, a lot more welcome. She knew it was a first step down that same path but it was still easier than going straight to it.

Dawn rose, then knelt so fast it was almost like her legs gave out under her.

“Good, you selfish little bitch. Now, come over here. Don’t walk and don’t crawl. Walk on your knees and keep your eyes on my pussy. The whole way. Always keep your eyes on your goal. A little free advice there. ”

Dawn knee-walked towards Monica and she did keep her eyes on that seething pussy. She felt like a flesh robot. She wasn’t in control. Monica controlled her. The feeling was dizzying. She was just a robot made out of skin and flesh and bone. Monica had just verbally programmed her. She was a sexy robot with sore knees getting more sore with each clumsy knee drag and knee fall on the harsh carpet. She was just like a robot if a robot could also feel all this inappropriate arousal.

These sexual events with Monica were more exciting than any ride at any fair in the world. Monica would give commands and, like them or not, she would follow them and who knew where that would lead? It was all so exciting.

As she knee-walked the short distance a couple times her thighs rubbed and a bizarre sexy frustration soared up her spinal column. She felt her sex leaking fluid. She felt like touching herself but knew she may not be able to stop what she started.

It would be selfish anyway. Monica sort of had a point. She needed to focus her eyes on that overgrown pussy and then focus all her efforts there. She wondered how long it would take to tongue Monica to an orgasm, let alone three. It sounded nasty and difficult but she was curious and found herself looking forward to the challenge.

Though perhaps not as much as Monica!

She knee-walked into position between those widely spread fleshy thighs and sighed quietly as she studied the flooded pussy landscape her tongue was about to slog through. She just stared. The details of all the swells and folds overwhelmed her view. It was a lot to explore. Monica was tall but her pussy seemed huge. Dawn felt a sexual thrill when she realized someone with a small hand, perhaps as small as her own, could get their entire hand up in there.

Monica stroked her fingers across the clitoris and bumped her mound upward in little thrusts. The odor of her aroused pussy surrounded Dawn and filled her lungs. It put her in a state. For a moment it felt like she couldn’t breathe, then she inhaled deeply and purposely. It was amazing! She could feel Monica’s lust entering her and working its will in her being, making a mirror image of itself within Dawn. Suddenly Dawn felt a flood of juices release from her own pussy and run down her thighs. It almost felt like an orgasm. Whatever it was did not sate her desire but sent her lust soaring into some dark unspeakable cloud of wrongful longing.

She’d stared at that worked-over pussy for nearly a minute but now she looked up wide-eyed for orders. She needed the order. She couldn’t do what she knew she would do until she had the actual order. By this point she didn’t just need the order, she wanted it.

Monica surprised her.

“Lean forward very close to my pussy. Breathe my evaporating pussy juices in. Fill your lungs. Hold it. Then blow it out gently and slow, aim the air across my pussy and especially my wet clitty. Just keep doing that while I rub off my little sex button. ”

Dawn was surprised but the bizarre commands fired her lust. She was a little sickened but she was much more aroused than disgusted. Her own lust dominated her own nausea and forced it to serve its will, used it to somehow deepen the lust even further. She immediately followed Monica’s orders.

Long breath in though her nose. So humid. So musky.

Delicately blowing an oh-so-long breath out across Monica’s red, aroused pussy.

Again and again and again.

Dawn was a human bellows blowing the flames of Monica’s exhilaration.

Monica’s musk seemed to accumulate on Dawn’s delicate inner nose hairs. She felt like her lungs would never be free of it. In her fertile imagination she felt people would be able to smell Monica’s pussy for days every time she exhaled a breath. She was mortified and hotly aroused.

Each time she blew out her long slow gusts the pussy juice on Monica’s fingers dried, just for an instant, but were slick again as soon as they rubbed the pussy some more.

Dawn watched the sex fluid flow freely and was momentarily disconcerted to feel an unnatural amount of fluid in her own mouth. For a surreal moment she thought the pussy juice was somehow making its way into her mouth! Then she realized it was her saliva and that made her realize she was actually hungry to eat Monica’s messy pussy.

It made her feel shame and made her feel whorish. And made her own pussy juice flow even more. A few droplets actually fell to the carpet as she instinctively ground her mound against air.

Monica’s moans and sexual grunts deepened and lengthened. Her jerky movements became clumsier. Dawn could see she was nearing orgasm. She anticipated an order to lick. She was eager for it. All this smell of musk without taste of musk made her anxious.

She waited patiently but no order came. But Monica did.

“Ahh! Ahhhhh! ”She thrust her mound up almost to Dawn’s chin and Dawn was surprised by a fine spray of droplets clouding into her face. Dawn blinked in bewilderment. She’d never known a woman could do anything like that. It was an incredible ability! It was disgusting and marvelous at the same time.

Once she shook off her amazement and shook off her shock and shook off some of the droplets she felt a little angry. How nasty! Her entire face and much of her hair, neck, and shoulders was covered in a finely sprayed sheen of Monica’s vaginal oils. She had obviously done it on purpose. She could have at least warned Dawn. She should have warned her!

The anger was fleeting and useless. It was quickly replaced by a strange all-in lust. She suddenly wanted nothing more or less than to wallow her entire face into Monica’s sexual pit.

That’s what Monica wanted too. As her orgasm passed she lowered her rear back down but curled one hand around the back of Dawn’s neck and forced her face to follow the wet pelvis. When Monica’s ass came to rest the face was forced to continue down, was mashed into the wet folds, the nose and lips engulfed.

Monica was triumphant, flying high from her orgasm, “Get in there you pussy sucker. Do what comes natural. Make me come. That last orgasm I gave myself. You’re starting now. You need to give me three to break even. ”

Dawn couldn’t speak but she squealed in frustration. It wasn’t fair. That last one should count. She’d… participated in it. She tensed to pull back to argue her case but that hand was on her neck, bouncing her face inward insistently, and it wasn’t about to let go. No choice. She started licking and burrowing.

She guessed she would have to provide three more orgasms but it wasn’t all bad news. The good news was the same as the bad news. Still three orgasms to provide. What a sexy, wicked adventure! What she had dreaded before she now looked forward to and her feelings of frustration and unfairness somehow added themselves onto her passion and magnified it. She wished she had a cock up her pussy or a dildo or at least had the courage to give in and finger herself.

She almost did start touching herself but realized that would be a huge mistake. No way! She mustn’t. Any orgasm she had now Monica would probably count against her orgasm debt!

Dawn licked and licked but really used her whole face to good effect. Monica flexed her knees in to hug at Dawn’s shoulders. After a few long minutes Dawn felt Monica readying to orgasm and she felt a thrilling excitement. She was making it happen!

An instant before it happened she remembered Monica’s previous spray of musk. Like a skunk! Disgusting! What should she do? Should she pull away and get out of its way?

She didn’t have to worry about it. It wasn’t her choice to make. Monica jammed her face down and her own groin up and groaned like a triumphant wrestler. Oils and juices flooded her pussy and streamlets flowed over Dawn’s flushed cheeks. She could barely breathe and she felt euphoria from lack of air, the sexual essences, and the thrill of sexual accomplishment.

After ten long seconds of climaxing Monica couldn’t stand the contact of Dawn’s face any longer. She shoved her and Dawn rocked back, startled, gasping for air. As previously directed, she kept her wide eyes on that treat between Monica’s spread legs.

Dawn felt some of Monica’s pussy juice trickle down the slopes of her breasts to gather in droplets dangling from her hard nipples. She so wanted to push a finger, no, fingers, no, her entire hand up her own pussy but she stopped the fulfillment of that urge through a monumental effort of will. She did make a slight compromise and used both hands to rub the pussy juice all over her little tits, first spreading it, then massaging it in, and then squeezing so hard her titties hurt but hurt so good.

Even though Monica watched her with a wickedly triumphant grin Dawn could not see it. Her eyes were half-closed in sensual fog. The only sensual input reaching her through the passion was the explicit view of Monica’s hot pussy waiting for more action. Dawn moaned. She couldn’t blame that pussy for looking all hot and needy. Hers felt the same way. My God, she wondered could she get through providing two more orgasms without having one herself? She might go insane.

Monica was delighted. The foxy little sunburned Mommy looked so aroused she might orgasm against air. This silly woman was putty in her hands!

“Slut. Did you enjoy giving me an orgasm? ”

Dawn’s tight fingers on her own breasts stilled, then tightened harder, “Yes. ”

“Are you looking forward to giving me more? ’

Dawn slowly nodded.

“Speak up, Slut, I asked you a question. ”

“Yes. ”

“Say the whole thing. ”

“Yes. I’m looking forward to giving you more orgasms. ”

“Good, you’re being honest. Never lie to me. You’re not allowed. Nice and polite, too, that’s good. You like telling me all, being polite to me while I’m mean to you, doing what I tell you to do, letting you give me pleasure. You like all that. Don’t you? ”

“Yes. Yes. All that. I like it. ”

“All right, Honey Bitch. Now pinch your nipples for me. Real hard. Try to give yourself as much pain as possible. Your pain gives me pleasure and my pleasure gives you ecstasy. Doesn’t it? Go ahead, pinch those naughty nipples. Punish them. They deserve it. ”

Dawn pinched them both, simultaneously and automatically. It was like her hands acted directly on Monica’s orders with no go-between in the shape of Dawn’s brain. Dawn thought her fingers were only going to lightly pinch and just go through the motions of obeying Monica’s will. She was shocked at how viciously they tweaked her hard nipples. When she realized how badly she was hurting herself she felt a surge of arousal and her fingernails tipped inward to deeply crease her tender nipples, hurting herself so much the worse. It was sharp agony. She could not tolerate it yet kept on inflicting it.

“All right, you nipple-pincher slut. Get your slut-face inserted in my slot. Now. ”

Dawn released her relieved nipples and knee-crawled a few inches in to better position herself. Her knees were quite sore from the carpet fibers but that was nothing compared to the horrible pain she’d inflicted on her own nipples. How could she have done that to herself just because Monica said to? It was sick and all wrong.

“Wait a minute slut. I told you to get your mouth back to work but I never told you to stop pinching those nipples. Get back to it and don’t stop until I come. If you fail to keep pinching this orgasm won’t even count. ”

Dawn gave a little groan of frustrated despair. So unfair! Her nipples were hot and hard twin aches from the previous pain inflicted and too much blood filling them. The same pinching fingernail pressure produced much greater pain now that so much blood had rushed to the wounded area making it all even more sensitive. She wanted to scream and she wanted to come.

She had a task to perform. Her mouth went back to work and she had to admit she went to work with a lot of passionate vigor. Her tongue shot up Monica’s vaginal canal and sought the deep juices.

Her fingers continuously caused tremendous pain to her nipples but sometimes she increased the pressure to make the pain even worse in synchronization with her deepest tongue thrusts, the ones that caused the root of her tongue to ache. Dawn didn’t know if she inflicted that extra pain as a punishment or as a reward.

Dawn knew Monica could no longer see if she was really pinching her dangling nipples. She could definitely get away with stopping but she didn’t stop. For some reason she wanted to give her all. She did not want to hold anything back. That meant total obedience. You couldn’t be partly obedient, deciding what to do and what not to do. Making decisions meant awareness and awareness would be greater torture than anything her fingers could inflict. You either were totally obedient or you weren’t. If she submitted all the way she sensed she would survive this, even love it. It would also mean a change, a major change within herself, maybe a permanent change. She’d given up full resistance and there was no going back. Partial resistance meant condemnation on multiple fronts including internally.

She needed to give in to Monica’s will. All the way. She wanted to.

What Dawn didn’t know was whether she could recover her former self after all the sexual acts were completed or if she would be locked into a person of inescapable subservience to the will of this strange and mean, unfairly demanding woman.

Of course, there was really only one way to find out….

Dawn licked and licked and licked but she was no robot about it. She had genuine enthusiasm and excitement. She wanted to please this intimidating woman. Again. She wanted, needed, to find out if she could make her orgasm yet again. Could this woman gush a third time? What would it taste like? As skunky or even skunkier?

She licked all over but in different ways. Short and long licks. Hard and light licks. She moved her tongue like a hummingbird hovering over flowers, tonguing outer and inner labia as well as clitoris and clitoral hood, even down to the band of flesh between the vagina and Monica’s anus. She did all possible combinations of lick and location. It was clear her efforts pleased the foul-mouthed woman and that pleased Dawn. Monica was cursing her creatively but each curse was a compliment somehow. Like how the woman made pain feel good. Each insult felt like high praise and caused a little pulsing flex of pleasure deep within her sex. She really wished she could be allowed to touch her own sex even though she thanked God she could not.

Monica cuffed her lightly on the side of her head, cursing her for not making her come yet. Dawn knew she deserved it. She certainly had not made the woman orgasm. She was inadequate. She was failing. She deserved to be hit again. Harder. Much harder.

Her own pussy twitched, almost a contact free orgasm, and she groveled her face into the steaming hot pussy in front of her. Her mouth was so sore and her tongue so tired. Her nipples were so sore even her fingers were tired of pinching them.

None of that mattered. Not even her own needy pussy mattered. What she needed was to please this woman Monica into climaxing. Not to accomplish her goal of emancipation from her but just because it was the proper way of things. Dawn knew that now, knew it throughout her body and soul.

Monica orgasmed a wet gusher and Dawn tried to slurp up as much of the released juices as she could get. What she had sought to avoid just a little while ago, she was now desperate to obtain and swallow down.

Monica groaned and groaned in high sensitivity as Dawn dutifully suctioned all over her pussy. She got a lip seal over the vaginal hole and was able to all at once suck in almost an entire mouthful of fluid. She swallowed it down gloriously. She wanted the wicked woman’s juices to be absorbed into her body, to flow through her arteries, to arrive in her brain and take her over….

Monica didn’t want any rest. She kept Dawn’s face jammed into her pussy by pushing and pulling harsh handfuls of Dawn’s hair. Dawn was glad to serve. She was relieved the first orgasm had not counted so that she’d have the privilege of giving Monica an extra orgasm. She was also oddly sad that this next orgasm she gave would be the last one she ever gave Monica and the last one she gave any woman because she wasn’t a lesbian no matter how much she loved acting like one.

She had a daughter, gave birth to her, so she could never be a lesbian, could she? She was a parent and had important financial duties safeguarding and overseeing her dead husband’s fortune so obviously she could not become a full time practicing subservient, could she?

Dawn licked and sucked and tongue thrust for many long minutes without sensing Monica breathing harder or coming any nearer at all to orgasm. At this rate it would never happen. She’d have to come back for another ‘encounter’ to finish the job. She felt frustration but also a forbidden arousal at the thought. She guessed another session wouldn’t be all bad. She could hardly wait to get away from Monica so she could finger herself to half a dozen orgasms. This nasty encounter could fuel finger fuck fantasies for years, maybe decades. Maybe she would pinch her nipples with one hand while jamming three fingers from her other hand up there….

“Pussy-licker, you’ll never make me come with pure pleasure, not after three orgasms. You need to turn on my mind as well. I like dishing out a little pain just to keep things interesting. It makes me quite passionate. If you want me to climax again you need to give me permission to smack your lovely rear while you lick me. What do you think of that? ”

Dawn waggled her eyebrows while continuing to lick. Monica’s hands kept her face pressed to her pussy so she could not speak anyway. Clearly her question was rhetorical. Dawn wasn’t sure what she’d say if she could speak anyway.

“Speak up bitch! ”

Dawn mumbled something, she didn’t know what, into Monica’s sweet musky folds. Monica seemed to enjoy that both bodily and with a cruel smile of amusement. Dawn marveled at how in control and in charge Monica was. She was a sexual leader who deserved sexual followers. Dawn had always been good at letting others take charge of affairs in other matters. Why not sexually as well?

“Talk louder you stupid cunt! ”

Dawn tried and tried to speak but Monica crushed her face into the pussy flesh and every time Dawn opened her mouth folds of labia sprang past her lips. Dawn tried and tried, frustrated but aroused knowing this was pleasing Monica. She knew she’d do it as long as Monica wanted and would keep trying to speak even knowing no sensible sound was meant to be heard.

“Close your eyes, stupid, and yell it. Keep yelling what you want until I tell you to stop. ”

Dawn began yelling against the slick softness of Monica’s pussy. It was weirdly exciting, like breathing pure pussy instead of air. She figured she would keep yelling whatever she was yelling up into that pussy until Monica came. As commanded of course she kept her eyes tightly closed.

Suddenly Monica used her hair handles to jerk her face up off the pussy. Dawn knew instantly what was happening and knew exactly why Monica was doing it. The realization caused a sexual surge within her. She’d thought she wouldn’t yell at all, or would only speak, or, at least, not yell loudly but she yelled with all her might and much more force in the open air than she had with her numerous pussy-muffled attempts.

“SPANK ME! HIT ME! HURT ME! ”

“I’d like to but that sounds a lot like a demand instead of a polite request. Perhaps if you begged me? ”

“I beg you, Monica, I beg you to smack my ass or hurt me wherever you want. If you like it, do it, please! Please, please! ”

“Hmm, Honey, that does sound tempting. I know that tight little ass of yours can take a tremendous amount of pain. It really wants it and I really want to give it. But there is something missing. It might just ruin my opportunity to orgasm once more…. ”

“What? What is it? I beg you to tell me. ”

“You called me Monica. As if we are equals. Quite irritating. Really ruins the mood. ”

“But… that’s your name! I’ll call you anything you want. Please, tell me how to address you. I’ll do it. We need to come. I mean… you need to come and I really want to make it happen. Tell me, please, tell me! ”

“Very well. As a favor. You may -- you must -- call me Mistress or Mistress Monica. From now on, whenever we’re together, company or not, sex or no sex. Understood? ”

Dawn was flabbergasted. She could maybe call her Mistress, why not, it was sort of sexy and, well, she pretty much knew she’d now do -- for the moment -- whatever Monica instructed her. She was fine with calling her that in private, especially while licking her privates. It was sexy! If it pleased Monica… Mistress Monica! … she knew it would make herself happy too.

Only for right now though. The image of calling her that in front of other people was absolutely mortifying! But she knew it couldn’t be that big of a deal because this would be their final encounter. Wouldn’t it? Well, of course, it was all agreed. As long as she gave Monica just one more orgasm and she was so close now. The idea of escape from the clutches of this woman was bittersweet even while the taste of her pussy was musky in her mouth.

Monica jerked on her hair viciously, “I said, understand? ”

“Yes! Yes… Mistress. I understand, Mistress. ”

“Better. Now, put it all together. ”

“Mistress, please punish me. Hurt me, Mistress, so I can better please you. Please, I beg you, Mistress. Keep hurting me until you orgasm, Mistress! Please! ”

Monica pushed that face back into her sex pie and smiled a huge smile. She loved it. A tremendous win. She ground that face in at a good angle so Dawn couldn’t see her mixture of triumph and relief. Nothing was ever certain, even up to a moment ago, but once you got them calling you Mistress it was amazing how smooth the sailing became. Few, if any, could ever recover their own self-control or self-esteem after they sold out their own will like that.

That slave mouth was giving a lot of pleasure but Monica didn’t forget the important ingredient of dealing pain to the newly enslaved. She wasn’t sure it was totally necessary but it had always worked well before. Besides, why not? Monica reached in between the padded chair cushions and found the riding crop she’d stored in there. Well, really Wayne Jones had stored it there. He kept useful tools of bondage and sadism in most rooms of the mansion just out of sheer convenience.

She leaned forward, her full mature slightly swollen lower belly pressing on Dawn’s smooth broad intelligent forehead. Both lower belly and forehead were covered in fine perspiration which joined causing their skin to slip sexily back and forth. Monica took a moment to mentally savor Dawn’s sexy derriere and emotionally savor what she was about to do to the woman while physically savoring that hardworking but cunilingually innocent tongue. Monica brought the crop down right at the top of Dawn’s ass crack. Monica was pleased with her perfect aim, thrilled at the startled anguish, and gratified by the reactive thrusting of the slave’s tongue.

Monica was submissive to Wayne Jones and Little Johnson and she enjoyed being submissive but she was also quite an enjoyer of dominating females. As a hetero lover she was subservient and as a Sapphic lover she was a dominant. The best of both worlds were instances like right now when she slavishly obeyed Wayne Jones’ orders to dominate, hurt, and enslave other females. Both at once was always the best.

Giving pain always gave Monica pleasure, though the pleasure was not always so immediate, direct, and physical. She realized Dawn was not intentionally trying to reward her with tongued pleasure. It was just that Monica had her face so deep in her pussy that her labial lips were actually partly inside the woman’s mouth. The pain had motivated Dawn to try to extricate herself and her tongue was desperately pushing at the lips to get them out. Silly woman. There would be no escape. Not now. Not ever. Monica’s strong hand wrapped in the woman’s hair and her strong will would make sure of that. Soon there would be more incidents of inflicted pleasure and bestowed pain and by a wider range of dominants. What was bizarre to this woman moaning in turmoil at her wet crotch would soon become the norm and then habitual. There would be no going back, only sinking ever deeper in.

Monica brought the crop down again, again striking the apex of Dawn’s ass crack. It was very nearly right on top of the first. Monica laughed out loud in physical and mental delight. She was going to give this slut quite a beating but all, as much as possible, on the exact same point of her body. If she did it long and hard enough Dawn might even end up with a permanent scar. How delightful!

Wayne Jones, and Monica, and the rest of Wayne Jones’ minions loved to make permanent changes in females. Permanently change their perspectives, their self-image, and their bodies. Piercing, tattoos, scars. They hadn’t done much branding yet but they’d get around to it. The physical changes made were a visual reward every time they saw them but, most importantly, they helped lock new psyches in place much more effectively than chains and padlocks. Of course, chains and padlocks were also fun….

Monica whacked the crop down again unerringly. Dawn mumble-screamed into Monica’s pussy. Monica brought the crop down again, trying for even more power. Dawn clamped her lips and teeth down, not fighting back, but in pure pain reaction. Besides, she mostly just bit her own tongue still desperately working in and out of Monica’s sex channel.

Monica kept it up. Kept swinging that crop down mightily. The crack of the blows absorbing into Dawn’s tender spot of flesh, the sound of the contact and Dawn’s muffled wails absorbed into the furniture and carpeting of the room where they joined many other past cries of the lost.

Monica was quite pleased with her aim even amidst her arousal. Even after forty blows there was a nearly circular crimson bright splotch at the small of Dawn’s back, about the size of the bottom of a soda can.

Dawn shook all over, nearly vibrating with that powerful elixir of pain, subservience, and yearning lust. She could barely keep her hands and knees straight under her and could barely keep her tired tongue thrusting.

Monica felt the shaking right up through the slave’s mouth and into her hot, Mistress pussy. She was getting way too close to orgasm but needed to do one more thing before allowing herself the fourth orgasm. Then she’d have one more task even after the orgasm.

She stopped the cropping and tried to control her arousal. She spoke through gritted teeth.

“Slave. ”

Dawn kept licking, kept trembling.

“Slave! ”

Dawn realized with a shock that Monica -- Mistress Monica -- was addressing her and not some new entry in the room. Dawn… a slave? Well, she guessed it made sense in a crazy way. If Monica was the Mistress -- and she sure as Hades was -- then, with illogical logic, she, Dawn, must be the slave. Yes, but only for a few more minutes….

“Slave! ”

She hesitantly pulled her mouth away from its all-important task, “Uh, ugh, yes Mistress? ”

“I want one more element to obtain my orgasm. Finger her cunny while you lick mine and I crop your naughty behind. Get lots of squirmy fingers up your nasty pussy hole, little slave. ”

“But… Mistress, I have to avoid climaxing. I just must! ”

“I never said you had to come. That’s your problem. That’s up to you. But I’m your Mistress so you must do as I say. ”

Dawn felt herself nodding. She had to agree. She did have to do whatever this woman said. That’s just the way it was. Sexual gravity. It couldn’t be defied. It was a newly discovered fact of life. She’d just have to hope to avoid coming. They were her own fingers. Surely she could control them….

At a hair tug Dawn went back to rolling her face in that big pussy and pushing her tongue against it. She brought the fingers of her right hand hard into contact with her own pussy. They felt wonderful. Way too wonderful. Several sliced up into her wet folds and the pleasure increased exponentially. My God, how could it feel that good despite the horrible pain emanating from her tailbone?

Monica’s sexy groans returned, and, with them, the harsh strikes to Dawn’s backside. Blood had rushed to and swollen the wounded area during the short pause so the renewed strikes hurt even worse/better.

For a minute Dawn was almost grateful for the pain as it seemed to help prevent orgasm. She needed the help as her active fingers were becoming far too expert in forcing pleasure. Soon she realized it was all a physical lie. The tremendous pain was not preventing an orgasm at all. It only built it up, causing a delay, yes, but foretelling a profound orgasm, an imminent sexual avalanche. Mistress Monica really knew what she was doing to her!

Oh no! She just couldn’t! She had to fight it off. She absolutely had to make Monica climax before she herself did. Everything was at stake. Her soul. She kept her mouth working hard and ignored the screaming jaw muscles.

She tried to shut out both the pain from the cropping and the sweet pleasure from her rubbing fingers. She focused on licking deep into Mistress Monica’s cunt but even that provided its own unique and powerful pleasures, mental and emotional.

She heard Monica grunt much louder and much more rapidly and felt her wet sex mound boxing uppercuts on her chin. Dawn felt elation. She’d done it! Monica was climaxing for the third time! The slave knew she was moments away from verbally contractual freedom, as agreed.

The accomplishment was thrilling!

It was too thrilling…. The thrill seemed sexual. She was thrilled at making the Mistress climax and not from the prospect of imminent freedom.

The fingers of her right hand became more ambitious, four jamming hard as they could up her own pussy, pulled almost free, then jammed back in hard, again and again, hammering up into her needy pussy.

Her pussy wanted to catch up to Mistress. Her mind was too divided and confused to be anything other than a neutral party. She was on the brink.

Mistress Monica, even in the throes of orgasm, left nothing to chance, “Use your other hand, too, slave. Rub that clitty. ”

Monica kept that busy slave face up in her pussy while leaning forward to rapidly crop the slave’s battered tailbone. She had a good angle and through passion-lidded eyes she could see the good little slave bring her other hand up to her crotch. Monica assumed the fingers found the swollen clitoris because the slave gave a pretty little jerk.

Mistress Monica extended her orgasm as long as she could but reached her peak and Dawn felt a splash of liquid inundate her face. That emotional thrill caused her pussy to clench on her fingers, her little team of betrayers, and she soaked them with her juices during a jerking breathless orgasm.

Dawn’s orgasm went on and on even as Monica basked in the dregs of her own. The only thing that kept Dawn in place was Monica’s fist full of hair, hair she tugged viciously at though without any conscious intention.

Once the slave was depleted and Monica recovered her sense of mission she released Dawn and observed her fall face first into the carpet. Dawn rolled her face side to side but was too weak to turn over.

Monica looked at her wristwatch and waited forty seconds. She knew at that point post-orgasm sensitivity was still at its peak while the time elapsed was enough to make a new orgasm its own separate entity. In other words, another one would be easy to inflict and it would sure as Hell count.

Monica leaned forward, turned her body a little to the right, placed her left foot on the small of Dawn’s back. She applied force and slammed Dawn down full body against the carpet. She knew it caused Dawn extraordinary pain and had purposely chosen to target the cropped area. She bent forward and reached down with her right hand to insert strong fingers up that wetly loose little pussy.

After half a dozen mean words and a dozen thrusts from her hand the slave climaxed again. She was weak but the orgasm was strong.

Dawn actually fell asleep there on the deep damp carpet. She didn’t know how long. Eventually she woke up, leaving her dream for a nightmare.

She sensed movement behind her and, before she knew what was going on, felt her delicate wrists uncouthly cuffed behind her back. Why? She had no strength to resist. Even if that bitch started whipping her she doubted she would even try to crawl away.

Hands lifted at either side of her hips and she cooperatively raised her rear while leaving her face in the carpet. Something was wrong but it was hard to say what.

One hand remained on her hip while the other came back to finger her pussy from the rear. Those fingers stirred up her juices, reheating them from warm to hot after several minutes. She moaned in recognition she was arousing yet again. How many orgasms had she saved up since her husband died? She moaned in frustrated awareness, she wanted another climax while dreading falling ever further into sexual debt to Monica. She moaned again and tightened her belly to arch her pussy at an angle to afford greater access to those fingers.

She moaned in angst. Something was wrong. Those hands…. The smells were different. Under the smell of enflamed pussy was some other scent. A totally different smell. In fact, at the opposite end of the spectrum….

It was a challenge. She needed to see back there just to calm her sudden irrational fear. With difficulty she turned her head and looked up past her own shoulder blade.

The person cupping her mound wasn’t Monica.

It wasn’t even a woman.

He was that handyman, Mr. Johnson!

Dawn screamed though it wasn’t very loud given her position.

Johnson’s ragged black beard twitched in surprise, then his dark eyes and poor teeth twinkled with dark amusement, “Not what you expected, huh, rich bitch? ”

“Stop it you little monster! Let go of me! ”

Johnson chuckled, “Very well, my lady, your wish is my command. I’ll let go of your pussy. Obviously fingers and palm are not enough, you must want my cock in there instead. ”

Johnson pulled his wet fingers away and a moment later a fat cockhead knocked at her labial doorway.

Dawn wailed a desperate scream.

Just then, with Johnson’s cock just an inch inside her body, Monica knelt down next to them. She was all smiles.

“Monica! Stop him! ”

“It’s for your own good, sweetie. That selfish dead husband of yours denying you sex, not letting you have a good cock planted up your still-fertile pussy planting its seeds deep inside you. It just isn’t right. Fucking criminal really. We’re going to get you over that hump right now and we’re going to do it by letting Little Johnson here hump you. ”

Dawn’s wail of horror was choked off into groans when Little Johnson slid his big Johnson slow and steady down into her core. Once fully planted he began battering in and out with no mercy.

Monica reached under her and tugged on her nipples.

She whispered sultrily in her ear, “Remember how I wrote you I had a very special surprise for you and that it’s sort of purple? I’m a woman of my word. It’s inside you right now. Little Johnson’s nig cock is sort of purple. Enjoy it! ”

Despite its sheer size and Dawn’s relatively tiny pussy he soon had his tool gliding smoothly in and out thanks to her slick secretions. He was an expert at fitting his large personal object into tight spaces.

Dawn quickly considered her options. It was quick because she knew she had no options other than co-operation.

Even if she did have other options the magic in Monica’s tweezing fingers and the magic in Little Johnson’s cock would have pared them back down to just that one. Dawn reared hard backwards and upwards against the wide penetration. Her juices flowed freely and she no longer tried to escape. Why try what was not within the realm of the possible? She ground backward, using her elbows to gain traction on the carpet. Now she was aiding and abetting their transgressions on her body.

They all knew how this would end and they each sought to make it happen.

As the critical point approached Little Johnson hugged closer to her back while still humping into her madly. He spoke harshly near her ear, “This time your cunt but, next time, I’m going to shaft that asshole, I’m gonna shoot my load in your guts. Then you’re going to lick my cock clean after. ”

How awful!

Breathless and voiceless, there was only one way she could respond to such a profane proclamation from such a foul, sorry excuse for a human being.

Dawn arched her back, ground her pussy back and up so her pussy lips pushed wide around the base trunk of the invader, and came on it.

In orgasm she found her voice, loud but wordless. Little Johnson bellowed along with her and shot pulsing streams of semen into her gratefully embracing pussy.

 

A half hour later after Dawn was freed and as she stumbled about trying to get dressed she wondered if the orgasm with Little Johnson had added to her “orgasm debt” to Monica. She looked at Mistress Monica whose satisfied emerald eyes watched her with an air of confident victory.

Dawn realized her internal question was a dumb one. Of course that orgasm had counted against her. They all did nowadays….

In a few minutes, fully dressed but with sweat and juice damp under her clothes, Dawn stood near the front door awaiting permission from Monica to leave.

Monica was still in a state of undress, “You had three orgasms so you still owe me three. You know that. ”

Dawn nodded.

“You’re going to give them to me in your home, in your bedroom. After we have a nice civilized dinner at your dining room table with your daughter and any other friends you like. ”

Dawn gaped at her.

“Tomorrow night. By the way, you should be proud to be mine so you will introduce me as your girlfriend and say you’ve decided to date again. You’d better make it obvious you mean me or, believe me, I’ll do it for you in a much more embarrassing fashion. If I have to I’ll turn you over my knee and spank you in front of your daughter until you tell her I’m your Mistress and you’re my slave. See, that would be much more embarrassing, wouldn’t it? So follow directions. After dinner, you’ll take me by the hand -- in front of anyone there -- and guide me to your bedroom. ”

Dawn was speechless. This was impossible. This was a nightmare.

Monica spun her around, swatted her rear twice, then pushed her out through the door, “I’ll see you this Saturday at your place. I’ll arrive at six o’clock. ”

The door slammed and Dawn stood for a moment on the porch looking outward at her car in the huge U-shaped driveway.

Time to leave. Time to return home. Time to prepare to host a dinner tomorrow night.

Even though no one was around, Dawn mumble-whispered under her breath so no one would hear her, “Yes, Mistress. ”

 

Little Johnson snored on the bed when Monica returned to the bedroom and flopped down next to him.

She lay there cooling her still sweaty body on the top sheets. She sported a hot grin below contentedly closed eyes. That little rich bitch Mommy had arrived three orgasms “in debt” and, after a hard-working -- one might say slave laboring -- afternoon, she was still three orgasms in debt. What fun!

Monica was confident she’d drive the little lady ever deeper in debt and ever deeper immersed in slavery. Dawn was her useful tool and she intended to keep her ready for use….