The next week

I made it through the weekend without everything collapsing.

My cheating husband, Wesley, was still asleep when I got home about six in the morning on Saturday. I had rounds at eight. Believe me, I wanted to stay in bed with Miss Kayla for the rest of the day as my own version of cheating, but she insisted I go home and do what I could to act “normal.” She spoke to me with a mix of authority and tenderness. She really was something.

Saturday, Miss made little contact, but what she did order in texts I executed without hesitation. I had given her my personal number the night of our date, which was only two days ago. Felt like a lifetime.

She ordered fairly small things, like doing my rounds at the hospital with no panties. I’ve never “gone commando“ before, and the experience was actually not nearly as irritating as I thought it might be. There are a lot of gynecological reasons that if a vagina is covered, it should be in a comfortable, breathable material. But as my pussy was rubbed against the seam of my pants, I didn’t really give a fuck.

Yes, I had a pussy now.

And a cunt when she wants it to be.

When I got home about one, he was out getting some things for the garden, and I went in and took a nap, but not until after I had taken a shower and sent her a picture of my "naked wet ass." Oh boy...

We ordered a pizza for dinner and a movie. Miss had asked what we were doing, and I told her.

She told me to answer the door with no bra, making sure the pizza delivery person could see my nipples. She said pets love showing their bodies.

I came very close to chickening out, but with trembling hands, I took the box and thanked him. I think he caught on and said thanks for the tip under his breath. She was right… I loved it.

As I handed Wesley a plate, he said, “Wow, your breasts look amazing. I bet he got an eyeful.” I pretended not to care. Apparently, he did. That night, he started to get amorous. I honestly didn’t know what to do. I suddenly no longer wanted my husband. In fact, he kind of creeped me out! I feigned I was not feeling well, a stomach bug of some kind.

Sunday morning, he went running with a friend from his office.

Jesus Christ… How could I have missed this?

I texted Miss to report everything. I was in it to win it with her.

I was tempted to follow him to see where he might meet her, but I honestly don’t give a fuck.

You do. And that’s OK. Like I said, this is going to be a lot of work.

I miss you, miss! smiley laughing face

As you should. What are you wearing right now? Show me.

I was surprised, but I took a selfie of myself in a pair of shorts and a loose sweatshirt. I was in my office on my laptop watching redhead porn.

You are cute, Pet— would look cuter naked. Strip, fuck yourself with a toy for five minutes, and send me a picture of your pussy dripping wet. Whatever you do, DO NOT CUM!

My whole body flushed with heat, and I gripped my office chair a little tighter. I had no problem responding with a simple message, yes, Miss.

I almost ran back to my bedroom. I dropped my shorts and sweatshirt on the floor. I pulled out my favorite curved cock-shaped vibrator from my bottom drawer and headed back to the office. (My expert opinion is that shape and user friendliness are what make a good sex toy. Not size by any means) On the way, I stopped in the bathroom and grabbed a small towel. I was already dripping down my leg.

I was never one of those women who produces a lot of lubrication when aroused. It’s more than enough to get the job done. Since the car Friday night, I’ve been wetter and more fragrant than ever. It’s like she dialed up my body’s reaction to eleven!

The shiny light blue toy had no problem pushing into me. It felt good to be filled. I used the settings to set myself into a playful state. I mumbled her name once or twice as I literally fucked myself. There was some aggression in this, perhaps even anger.

I cheated on him, and he cheated on me. I don’t know why his seemed like a worse violation. Maybe because it was another woman? Or maybe because I didn’t know how long it had been going on, and I felt like such a fool for not noticing.

After just a few minutes, I was ready to cum and excited to shout her name, when I remembered her orders. I abruptly pulled my blue friend out of my pussy and gripped the edge of my desk. It took me a good thirty seconds to regulate my breathing. Instead of using the towel to clean up any of my excretions, I used it to wipe off my face.

I picked up my phone and realized this was my first-ever sexual selfie. I didn't count the butt shot earlier as it was, well, just my butt. But this was my very wet and aroused vulva. I’d sent Wesley a few flashes here and there, but never anything this openly sexual.

Of course, I overthought it and took it probably eight times before I found the one I wanted. I hit send with the message Thank you, Miss. I don’t know what I was thanking her for; I didn’t get to orgasm, but it felt like the right thing to say.

you look freshly fucked and I like that you peeped left nipple. Nice touch.

A second message hit me like Cupid’s sharp arrow.

Good girl

I almost had an orgasm when I read that.

I was her “good girl,” even though I was ten years older than her and a doctor.

It is obvious that a large portion of my practice, my appointments, deal with sexual health. I do whatever I can to make my patients feel good about themselves as sexual people. I have had women confess wild things to me because that leads to better treatment. And I have treated more than one person with some minor sexual injuries. One woman’s sex partner (not her husband) used something to spank her vulva. The bruises were a bit ugly to look at, but she insisted she was a willing partner and enjoyed it. She was afraid she may have damaged herself. Let me say for the record that I don’t recommend this kind of sexual activity, but the female body is built to take a lot. I gave her a quick examination and stated that she might want to lay off any aggressive activities for a good ten days while she healed.

Ice, lots of ice. Keeps down the swelling and the libido.

I remember the end of the visit was me advising her to be more careful. And her telling me, “I will, I just love it when he tells me I’m a good girl.”

I also remember rolling my feminist eyes after she left. That dynamic was never a thing for me with any partner.

Until this very moment. I was Miss Kayla’s good girl. If I had bothered to take another selfie, I’m sure I would’ve been smiling ridiculously and blushing.

I did have a mild panic moment and went to delete the eight pictures of my dripping wet genitalia. But I stopped myself. Why should I? He’s not going to look at my phone anyway. Fuck him. I’m keeping my pussy pics.

I’m sure he has some of her…not that I care to see them.

I created a file in my photos and labeled it “4Miss” and just got horny all over again.

My God, I wanted this woman! I wanted her red hair in my hands, her green eyes staring at me, her beautiful, full lips on mine. And those amazing breasts… “Oh, fuck, Carrie, you have it bad.”

I collapsed on my bed as orgasm rolled away from me and attempted a different path. I had to hold onto my pillow with my left hand while my right dug nails into my thigh to help dissipate the energy. It worked, and I was actually quite pleased with myself that I was able to put it off.

I still pulsed with need. For the first time, I could describe it as an ache. One that I did not really want to go away.

Waiting Sucks

The work week was fairly normal. Because I had worked Saturday, I had Thursday off as was my deal with David, my practice partner. I was exceptionally excited, however, because I was going to see her again. She said she had something special planned for her favorite pet. I had a moment where I was bothered that she might have someone else. I flushed, stinging of jealousy. Then I thought to myself, I will just have to up my game to stay your favorite.

Who the fuck are you, Carrie?

Wesley had kept his hands off me for the last three days. I may have been giving off some blocking pheromones or something. LOL! But when he said he was going to be out that night for a consultation with new clients, I actually rolled my eyes.

He asked, "What was that?"

I came very close to telling him what I knew, but I realized I’d have to tell him how I knew it. I chose to just say, "You’re going out after work for drinks with your friends. It’s OK to just tell me that.”

He charmingly smiled and said, "OK. I’m going out after work for drinks with my friends."

I stepped up to him and kissed him boldly on the mouth with tongue and open lips. It was sexy and passionate and very purposeful. "That’s great, because so am I." He looked surprised. I went on, "Isn't it better to just be honest?" His Adam's apple bounced. Boy, did we need to talk.

Miss had planned to have me come to her apartment for the first time. I usually did home stuff on my floating day off, but today I told Wes I was going to get a massage as I was not feeling myself. Truth. I was no longer a faithful wife; I was a submissive sex pet.

It was that nervous/excited energy rolling around in my head that I remembered from when I was a resident, telling me I knew I could do this well, yet I did not want to screw it up.

I had also not orgasmed since Sunday. That was proving problematic for focus over the last three days. I would have to let her know, as she promised never to interfere with my work.

Her text the previous night was nothing fancy - nice lingerie, easily removed dress, heels

Yes, Miss. Favorite color? When I sent that, I got a tingle in my gut. I was starting to call my Good Girl Giggle. I was feeling it often.

I got ready that morning with such a bounce in my step. Yesterday, the staff at work had noticed my mood was lighter. The nurses once again said I must be getting some on the side. I blushingly told them that was not office-appropriate. Loni, my favorite, said loudly, "That ain't a NO, Doctor Carrie!" We all had a big laugh.

It was most definitely not a NO.

I had a rejuvenating run and an enlightening shower before I got ready. Any fears or anxieties I had that this was the wrong thing to do were fading away more easily than I ever thought… and I’ve only known her for a week.

I had realized that telling me about Wesley's indulgences was a way to have me trust her.

My dress was a wrap-around with a full skirt that tied at the hip and was in the “easily removed” category. It was a simple soft stripe in blues that fit my bust with flattery. My breasts enjoyed the attention it garnered. Under I had on light blue, her favorite. They were an older, lacy set from when we had more date nights. I started to speculate when they had stopped and wondered if that was when he started fucking her. That was wasted energy, so I tabled it on my emotional agenda. I was going to see my Mistress, and we were going to fuck.

I arrived at her building twenty minutes away from my house. It was a typical courtyard style, U-shaped with three entrances and eight units in each. I found hers and rang her bell.

A quick note: Kayla is actually working in finance. She’s in her senior year of college but working this semester as an intern for an investment agency. She will not give me details, and I don’t want them, but she has a very quick and analytical mind. I think that is reflected in her sexual practices.

She did not respond, just buzzed me in. The third floor was easily achieved in a few seconds. I was fit, I was athletic, and I was exceptionally horny.

I took a deep breath, checked my hair, and lifted my hand to knock. The door flew open, and there she stood.

Inside her home, inside her past

She took my breath away, and before I could even gain it back, she took my hand and pulled me in and closed the door behind her.

“Gossipy neighbor.”

Apparently, she had saved the standard-issue black with red highlights Domme outfit for today’s encounter. From the bottom, she had black spiked heels that raised her up to my height, 5’6”. Silky black stockings were pulled up with garter belts; no underwear. She stood with her legs slightly apart, and I could see she was already aroused. She wore a corset-style bustier with her breasts hanging over the top. They somehow looked fuller today, her nipples calling my name. Her beautiful red hair cascaded around her shoulders in curls, and she had on a ridiculously bright red lipstick.

“You look…remarkable, Miss,” I breathed.

“You are welcome,” she stated flatly. “Spin for me-quickly, so I can see what’s under.”

I felt like some girl going to her first ballet class. I spun on my right foot, my dress billowing up slightly. I don’t think she could see my panties.

There was no greeting or “welcome to my apartment” needed. She had a plan, and I was to carry it out.

“It’s a good color on you.”

“Thank you, Miss.”

“Look better off. Remove it and drop it to the floor.” I did, even though it was one of my nicer dresses and I’d rather it was on a hanger.

“On your knees, head down.”

I was lightning fast, my heartbeat racing. My belly full of joyful anticipation.

“I want to give you an update. As you know, I’ve been planning this for months. And now that it’s here, I’m truly enjoying myself. You’ve proven to be quite amenable, and I love it. I usually spend a good month training a new pet, learning them, having them learn me. But you...” She crouched down and looked me in the eye. My throat went dry. Those green eyes… Those fucking green eyes.

“You are proving to be almost too perfect.”

She quickly stood up, and I got a whiff of her arousal. It made me nearly pass out. It was starting to become a Pavlovian reaction after only a few times together.

“Today’s lesson will be about obedience, common procedures, and things that I expect. Follow me to the living room… Crawl.”

She walked past me, and I looked up to see her pink and pale ass cheeks bouncing slightly from the motion of her heels. I did not hesitate and crawled on my hands and knees after her.

Jeezus, I really was her pet.

She sat in a comfortable wingback chair, her spine deliciously erect, her amazing chest pushed forward. Her right leg crossed over her left, and she slightly bounced her heel. I knew to stop in front of her. I resumed the rest position she had taught me in the hotel. Hands flat on my thighs.

“I’m going to tell you a bit of my past, Pet. I fully expect you to listen because you have a delightfully analytical brain. But while you listen, you will worship my feet and my legs. I don’t think I need to explain how to do that, do I?”

I gently shook my head and said, “No, Miss." Inside, I wondered why I hadn’t allowed that analytical brain to research this D/s and BDSM. I knew very little about this lifestyle other than a few things from my human sexuality coursework. The emotional and physical dynamics had been a mystery ten days ago. And it was like I didn’t want any spoilers. I just wanted to enjoy my story as it unfolded.

She lifted her right leg and straightened it so that her heel was right in front of me. My hands took her ankle and calf, and I sighed at the warmth of her flesh. I bent forward and kissed the top of her foot. I was in a state of building euphoria. I kissed her arch, the side of her heel, and the underside of her ankle. It was heavenly.

“When I turned 17, I had a bad breakup with my very first girlfriend. We had been experimenting and exploring some fun things we had seen on the Internet. I wanted it to go a certain way, but she didn’t feel ready. In hindsight, I think she just lacked the bravery to trust me. Yes, Pet, work up my calf, very good. I trust your tongue and lips are enjoying themselves.”

“Yesss, Miss.” I continue to kiss and lick as I reached her knee. My hands slid up her thigh, the silky feeling sending pulsing shockwaves through my sexual spine.

“I could not deny that the control I wished to have over her was something real. It felt like the right thing. The summer after my senior year of high school, before I went away for college, my mother insisted I get a physical before I left. It was a new physician's assistant who examined me and gave me a clean bill of health. Her name was… Well, that no longer matters. We flirted, I pushed, and I had my first older woman as a lover. She was compliant, sweet, and exceptionally skilled. Start on my left, Pet. You’re getting too close to a reward you do not deserve.”

I closed my eyes and gripped my hands tightly, putting off my conflagration. I wanted her pussy in my mouth. And she knew it. I got bold and removed her heel and made love to her toes through her stockings. It was her turn to shiver and laugh softly.

“Emerson and I were together for almost a year. Within a month, we had purchased toys. Two months, she was regularly submitting to me in the bedroom. By six, I was leading her around with a collar and leash whenever we were in private. When we were in public, she did everything for me, from holding doors to paying for dinner. She was mine, and I was hers. Unfortunately, the wife she had never told me about, who had been overseas in the Air Force, did not take kindly to me tying up her spouse. “

I paused for a moment, my tongue just about to move up her left thigh. I risked a look up to find her face turned away, something sad in her eyes. I so desperately wanted to hold her and console her. To remind her that she now had me.

Holy fuck. How is this happening to me?

“I didn’t dwell. In fact, I cut through three more women, all in the medical field, within 18 months. There were two nurses and a surgeon older than my own mother." Her voice dropped lower. "She was a lot of fun and really loved when I would use a tight whip on her creamy white ass cheeks.”

I shivered again. It was starting to become a common occurrence. I could see her wet, open vulva. It was calling to me, instructing me to be a good girl so that I might taste it. I chose instead to kiss up her thigh, giving slight bites and sucks along the way. I could see her open wet vulva. It was calling me, instructing me to be a good girl so that I might taste it.

“I discovered I’m very good at controlling women for my own pleasure.” Her left hand was under my chin, holding it tightly and lifting it so she could bend and stare into my eyes once again. “And for the most part, it goes beyond sex, even beyond control and submission. It is an electric connection; it borders on spiritual. And you, my dear Dr. Carrie Drexel, are now mine. My newest pet. One I believe will be the best I ever had.”

And with that, she kissed me, and I literally melted. My light blue high-cut panties dissolving with the passion of my vaginal fluid.

“You asked me how I became so wise at my age. I have my mother to thank for that. She said, "Always keep your eyes open, Kayla. Always be curious." And she was right and I have been.” With that, she gripped the sides of my head and suddenly shoved my face into her dripping wet need. I would have screamed had I not been covered by her lips sealing over mine. She growled: primal, satisfying, predatorial.

I immediately got to work. My hands flat against her thighs, pushing them open slightly. My thumbs rubbed up and down the creases between her hips and her legs. My flat tongue worked its magic around her. My lips sucking in her fluid, desperate to get as much as I possibly could. I was starting to recognize the uniqueness of her taste. I wondered what she thought of mine.

I zeroed in on her clitoris, circling her, causing her to grow. My fingers crept up to her ilioinguinal nerve bundle just above. I massaged and gave pressure as my thumbs moved up and down her folds. Her minora and majora labia were swollen and opening up in a kite shape. Every aroused woman takes a unique shape. Mine, for example, looked like a small tortilla. No joke…

Her fingers dug into my scalp, and I was happy to welcome the pain. In that moment, I thought about the much older woman than me who enjoyed this beautiful red goddess striking her and causing her pain. I suddenly wanted to be her. Just like before, I wanted to prove that I could be her favorite, her best pet yet.

Orgasm arrived for her much faster than I ever expected. For some reason, I expected more self-control from her. Perhaps she was showing me some vulnerability, or perhaps she simply needed to fucking come.

As her body settled, I continued my administrations. Her flow had increased and thickened with her orgasm. And I simply could not get enough.

Suddenly, she grabbed hold of my hair and pulled me up. I gasped at the sudden act.

She was panting, those eyes burning into me, tears about to fall. I must’ve looked shocked because that’s how I felt. I wanted to ask if I had done something wrong, but I knew in the instant that I probably should just keep quiet.

“Get dressed. I’m done with you. Show yourself out.”

And with that, she released me, and I collapsed on the floor. She turned and headed for her bathroom and slammed the door.

I sat there, panting in disbelief. Did she share too much? Was she angry? Had I done something wrong?

I followed her orders and, nearly crying, got in my car and drove home. What the fuck?

This had all been a mistake. A fantasy. A dalliance into a world I hadn’t known and obviously completely misunderstood.

In my garage, I sat there speculating, wondering, and worrying.

Just then, my phone lit up with a text; it was from her. With trembling hands, I lifted it and checked.

The doctors orders. tomorrow night. Parking lot of herringbones club. Dress trashier than you ever have. 9:00 do not be fucking late

I had no time whatsoever to question it nor catastrophize. All I had was compliance.

Yes, Miss

I sat there for another ten minutes waiting for more texts, wondering if I could get away with an orgasm.

Fuck, I forgot my bra...

TO BE CONTINUED

Thank you for taking the time to read. If you liked it, please hit the Heart. If you really liked it, go clean up, and then hit the Star. And as always, feel free to leave a comment; I try to respond to them all.

Peace, Matt