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Changes after changes
By
Thehoncath

Changes after changes

Is a change as good as a rest?

"Are you sure that you want this change?" Her face showed her usual seriousness. "Perhaps you just want a domme, and not me at all?"

"Don't say that, my darling. If I wanted that I only need pop down to the Club and I'd have a queue. It's about being yours, and reassuring you." That, indeed, was the truth of the matter. I knew she had been worried since we married. It was partly her own insecurities, she was eighteen years younger than me, and I was her first serious lesbian affair. I was eighteen months out from a long-term relationship, and in that time, I'd frequented the Club liberally.

Officially it was a club for businesswomen, but in practice there was a thriving culture of easy sex. I had become used to reading the signs and signals which indicated whether someone was looking to hook up. As an authority figure, I had found my services as a domme in demand; many of my fellow members liked the idea of the deputy headmistress discipling them, and I had enjoyed many an evening of kinky sex. There was a thrill in having a respectable professional woman lower her knickers, exposing a swollen pink pussy, sometimes glistening with juice, and then spanking her ass until she begged to cum. It was an exquisite pleasure, and the fact that I was good at it ensured a steady queue of willing partners.

Just had known about this when we got engaged. I think she thought I was a sex machine, but to me, it was simply an expression of a dominant passion. I enjoyed sex. My wife-to-be was the sexiest woman ever, but she could never see it. It wasn't, as she thought, that I was always horny, it was that in her presence, how could I not be? Just seeing her, breathing her scent, seeing her pink hair, these made my heart beat faster; the effect on other parts of my anatomy was equally marked. But it all seemed to serve to paint me as an insatiable slut in her sweet eyes.

None of that got in the way of the wedding, which was as marvellous as either of us could have imagined, or the honeymoon, which left my poor darling exhausted - but ecstatic. But I had known at once that something was wrong, that evening, a few weeks later. She seemed red-eyed, and curt when I asked what was wrong. I was good at getting her to open up. Eventually, she admitted that there was something. She'd had anonymous notes on Club paper saying I was still domming women there, and that whatever I had said, I was still slutting about.

I protested at the unfairness. Contrary to what some lying bitch had said, I had been so good that some of my regulars had been quite huffy with me. But Justine was not happy. She accepted my assurances, but how the hell could I make her insecurities fade? Perhaps there was nothing I could do? Could people change? Perhaps they could, I reasoned with myself, if circumstances changed? Hence my suggestion.

"What if, my darling, I handed control of my sex to you for two days?" That was why she had wondered if I was in search of a domme. There were times when I wondered whether she realised how much I wanted to give my whole self to her. I explained this was about giving her control, and trying to make her feel secure. As I explained, I could see the penny dropping, and she smiled that smile I found so sexy.

"Ok, Cath, but you must agree to do as I say. Not even an orgasm without my say so. We start tomorrow."

That night we made such passionate love that she came at least three times.

As I gave her coffee and muesli for breakfast, she smiled again. I could look at her in that tee-shirt and shorts all day. I thought again, of how sweet her pussy tasted, and longed to devour it. She saw where I was looking.

"On your knees, now, Cath."

So, here was the change in action. Usually I'd have gone straight there, but today, I waited.

As I zoned in, she lowered her shorts, but not her panties. Again, in normal circumstances, I'd have taken control and done what was necessary, but it was today, and things had changed, so it was up to me to interpret what she wanted. I could smell her arousal. I breathed heavily on her pussy, blowing through her pink panties onto her swollen lips. She held my hair, pulling me closer. I applied my tongue to her panties, pushing at the cotton, which had already slipped between her thick, swelling lips. She pulled me closer still.

My tongue tasted her nectar, snaking round the thin crotch to touch her clit; I licked to the side of it, pushing it back, but holding back from doing what I wanted, which was to suck on it. I ran my tongue either side of her panties, which had now disappeared, swallowed by her petals. I poked my tongue into her wet hole, teasing it. She was moaning, pulling my hair, begging me to eat her. Well, as that change meant she was in control, who was I to deny her?

Pulling her panties aside, I inserted two fingers into her wetness, feeling her cunny open for me. As I pushed into the warm wetness, I felt how thick her juices were, and so, curling into her, I made her ride my fingers. She pushed down. My face was coated in her juices. her clit rubbing against my nose. I was overwhelmed with her scent. I nosed her clit from side to side, before tugging on it with my lips, her cunny began to spasm against my fingers.

"Oh, Catherine, you sexy bitch, fuck, yes," she moaned as she came. She never came that fast usually, but here she was, squirting into my face, rubbing her wet cunt against my lips and nose.

I held her thighs as she calmed down.

"Take your fingers out now, darling - and suck them for me."

I looked up, wet-faced, and smiled. Taking my fingers out of her wet cunny, I sucked on them, long and hard. She patted my head.

"Good girl. I was impressed you waited."

"I am a woman of my word," I smiled back at her.

"Ok, now then, you'd better wash your face, but you will be wearing these today."

With that, she slipped off her dripping panties and handed them to me.

I raised my skirt, slipping off my silk ones, and handed them to her. I pulled up her pink thong. Oh, my goodness, she was so wet. Knowing that I would have her wetness and scent next to me all day made me shiver.

Smiling, she put my expensive panties on.

"Would you like to come, Catherine?"

I had played this game from the position she was in often enough to know the answer.

"No, Miss, not unless it is your pleasure."

"Good girl," she smiled. "I may let you cum later."

She kissed me.

"Yum, you taste nice." She giggled and left.

I was working from home, so didn't bother washing my face. I loved her scent on me.

The morning sped by. I wrote a dozen emails and caught up with a huge pile of stuff. I was just thinking about lunch when the phone went. It was her mobile.

"Hi, darling!" I responded, breezily.

"It seems like you should be calling me Mistress." Her voice was firm.

"Yes Mistress," I responded, at once.

"Oh my!" She giggled.

"What would your wife think, her Mistress being so submissive?"

"I am sure she would understand, Mistress."

"How does it feel being my sub, little one?"

"Well, Mistress, my pink panties are as wet now as they were when I put them on."

"So, you are wearing your wife's wet panties, what a slut!"

"Yes, Mistress," I whispered, "I am YOUR slut."

"That's not what I hear, I am told you drop your panties for anyone - you fucking slut bitch!"

"No, Mistress, I used to, but not now!"

"Do you want to cum now, slut?"

"Yes, please, Mistress." I responded obediently.

"You may."

"Yes Mistress - shall I remove my knickers first?"

Her response was immediate.

"Remove all items of clothing, I want you completely naked."

"Yes Mistress. I am taking my dress off now."

I put the speaker phone on as I pulled my blue dress over my head. My bra, suspender belt, stockings and panties followed.

"I am naked for you, Mistress."

"Good. Start rubbing, go nice and slow and ease your way in."

Much as I wanted to rub myself frantically, I did as I was told, gently caressing my wet lips, squeezing them together. I could smell how aroused I was. I looked over into the mirror at this naked tart, fingering herself; fuck, I wanted to cum.

"Good girl, imagine the thought of being at my knees subby and needy."

"Yes, Mistress, may I insert a finger?"

"What do we say, little one?"

"Please, Mistress, may I put a finger in my pussy?"

"No, stick three into that slut hole, you cheating bitch."

I gasped, but did as I was told. She was right, I was wet enough to take three with no effort at all.

"Now, you fucking slut, go quick, let's see how quick you can cum."

"Yes Mistress, I am fingering my hole fast, rubbing my clit."

"Good girl, you are such a slut, aren't you?"

My thumb was pressing against my clit, rubbing, and my fingers were soaked.

"Yes, Mistress - I am rubbing my aching clit, my hole full, gooey, sticky, oh fuck, it is squelching."

I felt so dirty, standing in the study, pleasuring myself for her.

"Cum, you fucking whore, cum for me."

My cunt gripped my fingers, and suddenly I lost it.

"Justine!" I screamed down the phone. The neighbours were used to that, but not in the early afternoon.

I was shaking with the aftershocks.

"Good girl. Be ready when I come home. By now!"

With that the phone went dead.

I looked into the mirror. I was dishevelled, red-faced - but very happy. Perhaps this change stuff had something to be said for it, after all, beyond the aim of pleasing my darling wife?

When she came back that night, it was as though nothing had happened. She kissed me as usual, told me she loved me, and then went into her room to listen to music whilst I did the cooking. She ate the risotto, drank her usual diet coke, and chatted away as though nothing had changed. I had prepared myself for her, and was wearing a skimpy dress without bra or panties, but she acted as though I was in a full-length burka, for all the effect it had on her.

After dinner we sat together, I moved in for our normal cuddle, but she was busy with her phone. I felt pouty, rejected, but did nothing, not quite knowing what I could do.

Out of nowhere, she said:

"Do you still see that subby girl you liked so much?" She sounded cold.

"From time to time, darling, why do you ask?" I tried to placate her.

"Because you are going to see her as soon as I drive you to the Club. You will do as you are, you look like a slut - mind you, what's new in that?" She sighed.

A few moments later I was in the car.

"That thing scarcely covers your cunt, slut, but slide it up so anyone could see it."

I did as she said.

I felt a bit exposed as we got to the Club. I had made other women dress this way and get the stares from the porters, but this was the first time I had been the victim. As we entered, I noticed a couple of the regulars looking at the sheer, short black dress I was wearing; lips were licked. God, I felt vulnerable. Just smirked at me.

"Serves you right, slut. She is on room 101. Off you go!"

With that, in full public sight, she patted my bum and sent me on my way. I was well aware, as I climbed the stairs, that anyone walking behind would get a full view of my charms. I was also aware that room 101 had a see-through mirror. Was Just going to be on the other side watching?

I knocked.

"Come in."

I entered, and there she was, looking as gorgeous and blonde and petite as ever. Delicious, she was naked on the bed.

Usually, she would be on all fours and naked. I quickly slid the dress off and knelt.

"I am always in heaven when I see you, but to see you like this ...." She licked her lips.

"Baby is wet for you." I blushed.

"Get on the bed, under me."

In a total reversal of our usual roles, I lay on the bed as she straddled me, but facing my cunt. She thrust her cunt down on my face, and dived on mine.

She was so wet, her juices poured into my open mouth as it covered her puss. I sucked at her sweet lips, my tongue pushing her clit back, and rubbing it into the soft flesh behind it. She moaned.

I suddenly felt her spit into my cunt. That felt so humiliating that I supplied my own extra wetness. I responded by flicking her clit with my tongue, gently moving from side to side.

I felt her open me with her fingers and felt her pull away for the spit to drop out onto her tongue. I felt so open and slutty, but poked my tongue further into her wetness, pushing aside her swollen labia, pushing my nose against her clit.

She sucked my clit, and then, suddenly, with no warning, she bit me there. I gasped:

"Fuck," I moaned into her cunt, as mine ached. She responded by tugging at my clit some more. I groaned louder. My clit ached.

I responded by pushing her clit hard with my tongue

She spat more, making me all wet and slippery. I felt her finger rim my anus, all wet with her spit and my juices.

I responded by sucking on her clit, pulling it into my lips. My hand gripped her thighs as she pushed up my asshole. I grunted as she went in further.

Her response was to slip a finger against my asshole and push in. I grunted as she went even further in me. I pushed my face into her wet cunt, tugging away at her clit, hoping it was aching as much as mine was. She opened her legs some more. I curled three fingers up into her sopping cunt. I heard her moan. That felt good, so I finger fucked harder and faster. My asshole gripped her finger as I clenched.

I felt her move faster, her breathing changed.

"Baby pee into my mouth," she ordered, fingering my asshole harder.

Well, I thought, anything to oblige, so I let a jet spurt straight into her mouth. I heard her moan and she slurped it. I could feel the plastic sheeting of the bed grow warm, then cold, as I pissed until there was just a dribble leaking out of my pee hole.

As I did that, I carried on sucking her clit and finger fucking her. She was making choking sounds. Her cunt was open, the lips reddening and stretching. I felt her wet face against me, the smell of my own pee, as well as of my wet cunt.

"Get ready," was all she said, before pissing into my mouth, letting out a hot jet. I gulped it down. I was used to pissing on her, but not the other way around. She pissed a lot, coating my face and hair. However much I swallowed, there was always more, its acrid, slightly bitter taste filling my mouth and nostrils. I licked and drank as much as I could.

As I did so, she moaned, pulled away and shouted:

"I am fucking cumming you bitch!"

She was as good as her word; the piss being followed at once by her cunt juices squirting into my face. I had known her to squirt once or twice, when really excited, but never this much. I gasped as her juices spattered me.

As soon as she calmed down, she grabbed me like a rag doll.

"Come here you pissy slut."

Was this, I wondered, any way to talk to her Mistress? Ahem, I remembered, things had changed. I suddenly remember the two-way mirror; was Just watching all this? My cunt suddenly got even wetter.

She dragged me by my hair to the toilet, and pushed my head down it. Squatting above me, she pissed again, coating my hair with her pee.

"Now lick the bowl, tart!"

I licked. What else was a girl to do? It was probably cleaner than I was.

"Open your legs wide, slut!"

I complied.

I felt her push her toes into my cunt, her big toe finding my entrance and fucking my sloppy cunt. My tits jiggled as she pushed me.

"You like this whore?" She asked.

"Yes miss," I moaned.

"Then fucking cum on my foot, now, you slag!"

The thought that Just might be watching my humiliation pushed me over the edge on which I had been hanging for a while.

"You little hungry whore," she laughed.

Her foot made a squishing sound as I came, long, and hard.

"You piss-covered skank." She mocked me. I came even harder.

As I came around, I was conscious of her kneeling next to me, slapping my face.

"Are you okay, darling?"

She looked anxious. I had passed out.

"Yes, my love, I am okay, just, erm, well ...."

"So I saw," she smiled. "I can see this is your natural place in my life."

"But I thought ...." I began.

"Who the fuck cares what you think, bitch?" She slapped me.

"Of course, Miss, sorry Miss." I apologised.

"Right, in the shower, she wants you back on the hour and it is is quarter to, now."

Seldom has a shower felt better, or been needed more.

She watched me, smiling.

She watched me dress, not that there was much to that.

I did the walk of shame down to the porters' desk. Just was not there. I had to wait. The women porters smiled. Other members smiled at me, some smirking. I felt like a tart, which, considering the way I was dressed, was not surprising.

After what seemed an age, Just came downstairs - with the Blonde. They were arm in arm, kissing.

"You wanted a change," Just said, "now you have got it. How does that feel?'"

"Does it matter?" I asked.

"Not much." She said. "You will be in the spare bedroom tonight. Or, if lucky, you can lie next to us and masturbate."

I blushed. Changes, it seemed, were not so easily changed back.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than Lushstories.com with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © My stories are my own work and those of my collaborators, so don't be naughty and repost without telling me, there's a darling.

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