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A Mistress talks her submissive to orgasm

Sometimes words can be more arousing than deeds but not always.

She is tall and not always happy about it. Many tall women wish they were shorter just as shorter girls wish they had a few extra inches. Few people are entirely happy with their bodies. But to the submissive, lying on the bed, the tall, beautifully dressed woman was a dream fulfilled. Not that at this particular moment she could see her. Her eyes were covered in a black silk mask. She was wearing a black leather collar that forced her head up, cupping her chin. Her hands were cuffed together and a chain between them held them up above her breasts, fixed to a ring in the front of the collar. The sheer, black silk blouse she wore was buttoned to her neck but below the waist she was naked. Her knees were drawn slightly up. A rubber ball was strapped between her lips. She could feel and she could hear and the absence of sight heightened both those senses.

Earlier that evening the two women had been in the sitting room of the flat overlooking the garden, the late evening sun gilding the leaves on the trees. They had had a glass of wine each as they unwound from their separate, busy days. Friday evenings were their close time, their period of togetherness, reserved exclusively for each other.

She had looked at her Mistress as she sipped the wine. The gun metal full skirt that spread around her thighs on the seat. The pale blue silk blouse, open slightly more than it would have been when she was at work. The barely black stockings that she knew were held up with suspenders and above them the thin silk thong that cupped her treasure and disappeared between her buttocks. She could just see the lace edge of her white blouse. Her shoes, strappy and expensive, lay abandoned on the rich carpet. She had watched her dress this morning and knew every detail.

‘Go and have a shower, put on the black blouse only and stand in the bedroom – wait for me there.’

‘Yes, Miss.’

She stood and went to the bedroom where she undressed then into the bathroom. She showered carefully, enjoying the heat and steam. A few minutes later she was standing, naked but for the blouse, waiting for her Mistress. Her reflection in the mirror watched her. Her small breasts topped with hard nipples, the bald pubis, the slight smile beneath the fall of her hair.

Her Mistress joined her. Standing behind her she fitted the silk mask over her sub’s eyes.

‘Shh.’ This to stifle an enquiry.

The gag was pushed gently between her lips and tied under her hair at the back. The collar was fixed around her neck and buckled behind it, forcing her head up. Her Mistress’s hands stroked her silk covered arms and slipped leather cuffs around them, then, moving in front, she lifted them to clip them to the collar.

‘Lie down and lift your knees a little.’

A hand caressed her hair as she felt the bed drop as her Mistress put her weight beside her..

‘Now, just listen. Concentrate on my every word and anything else you may hear me do. Don’t move, don’t try to speak, just listen and feel.

‘Your nipples are hard. Do they ache for their clamps, my lips, my fingers? I know they are not hard because you are cold – it’s a warm evening. They strain through the silk of your blouse as if they want to come to me. Perhaps they shall.’

She felt the whisper of hair as it brushed her leg.

‘You’re wet. Do you wonder if I am? Do you want to taste me?’

The bed moved and she heard a rustle, like material brushing against fabric. Her nose was suddenly covered in soft, gossamer silk.

‘There, taste me through your nose. Are they still warm from me, are they damp?’

Fingers rubbed the silk panties against her nostrils.

She lay still, entranced. The rustle again and the bed dipped.

The warm breath was back beside her ear, hair touching her face.

‘My hand is between my thighs, where your face was this morning. My finger is caressing my lips as your tongue did. Do you remember? How you slithered between my lips so softly, imagining I was asleep. How you lapped at me and covered me with kisses. My finger is just one knuckle deep, mm, now two. I am wet.’

A slight disturbance, more rustling fabric.

‘My nipples are hard too. My finger is rolling one as your lips rolled it this morning. My left nipple, with that little mole you like to kiss. Can you taste me? Oh, it feels so good. Not as good as you made me feel, but so good. And you look delicious there, open to me. Two fingers inside me now. Can you hear? There is a mark on your thigh. I put it there, didn’t I? Two days ago, with the cane you love and hate so much. It is here beside me. Do you want to feel its caress again? Well, perhaps you shall. It loves your flesh, loves to give you my mark. It marked your bum too, didn’t it? Three strokes were all I gave you but you sobbed and thanked me. Your face was streaked with little tears. I love your tears, I love your sobs. They are your gift to me, just as much as your mouth or your tongue.

‘My pussy is wet, my clitoris is hard. That’s partly because I am fingering myself but mostly because I remember your tears and your little cries. God, I love them.’

More movement and she felt her leg straddled by her Mistress’s legs, the stockings brushing across her skin as she moved. She could feel the back of her Mistress’s hand as it cupped and fingered her pussy just above her. Her arousal was painful, almost unreal. She felt her Mistress rubbing herself and it was if she was being rubbed. Her pussy flooded.

‘I am close, my love. My orgasm is close.’

Her voice was breathy, low and sensual.’

‘Can you cum with me? Can you cum as I do? Listen to my body, let it tell you when I am there and join me.’

She knew the pace of that hand was increasing. She felt it as the back of the hand occasionally touched her flesh, but she sensed it as if she was part of her mistress’s body. She tried to lift herself towards the hand but it moved away.

‘I’m close, so close. Oh, God, I am so close.’

It happened then. The world, dark already, went black and her climax rose within her, just as it was rising in her Mistress.

Two bodies, one climax.

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

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