Sunday Lynn had me over for brunch, which was her excuse to spend several hours with me but still get rid of me in time to prepare herself for the week ahead. She had shown me her calendar once and she did more things in a week than I did in three months. I was amazed to discover she taught a graduate course one night a week on the Lakeland campus of the mega-university near Tampa.
“Should I call you ‘Professor?'” I had teased.
“No, actually, ‘Professor’ is a title and not a form of address,” Lynn lectured pompously.
“Yes, dear, I know that,” I said acidly. “I was looking for another way for you to dominate me."
Her eyebrow went up. “Oh, do I need one?"
“No, you scare me enough as it is,” I admitted with a grin. Then she distracted me with some delectable body part and I had forgotten about it.
Now we were on the lanai beside the pool and she had several chafing dishes on the table. Gourmet cooking was her hobby, and like everything else she did, it was perfect.
“You know, what we did at school was fun, but we really shouldn't take any more chances,” she began after she served the crepes.
“I know, and it's okay. I figured it was a one-time thing. You can't break a window every week,” I agreed.
“I'd like to.” Lynn gave me a sultry look. “I'm looking forward to being put through my paces today."
“What would you like?” I asked. “Anything particular?"
“I liked when you made me polish your boots with my pussy,” she said, flushing.
“I think that can be arranged,” I said. “I'm sure you need to be punished."
“I always need to be punished,” Lynn said to me. “I'm a very, very bad little principal,” she said, and then she threw back her head and laughed, because she thought she was the best educator on the face of the earth.
So did I, but her ego needed no further stroking. “You're mean and cold and cranky and impatient. And I love you,” I reminded her.
“Will you love me more the meaner I am?” she asked sweetly.
“It depends. If you happened to be standing over me with your boot on my throat, I probably would. Got any boots?” I asked casually.
“Nothing with heels. Riding boots. Like those?” she asked, doing suggestive things with her lips and a slice of melon.
“Actually, I'm quite partial to riding boots,” I said as my heart rate speeded up. It was what I missed most since leaving the dungeon and my sessions with Beverly.
“I'll keep that in mind,” Lynn said. “Since I'm the real dominant, I know I have a responsibility to put you in your place once in a while."
“Yes, ma'am, please do."
“I will, but today is my day. Today you will use me until I scream for mercy. I mean, you will, won't you, Jane?” Her voice took on a pleading tone.
“Be careful what you ask for,” I said with a grin.
“Will you hurt me?” she wondered.
“Yes."
“Humiliate me?"
“Yes."
“Make me beg?"
“Absolutely."
“Make me wait?"
“Longer than you can stand."
She looked down and blushed. “I think I wet myself."
“No point in my being here if you didn't.” I put down my napkin and stood. “Clean this mess up, Lynn, and report to me in my room in ten minutes,” I ordered.
“I can't clean all this up that fast!” she protested.
“I don't care. Ten minutes.” I kissed her hard, pinched her ass roughly and walked off, leaving her to take care of the dishes and dribble down her pretty, shapely little legs as she thought about what was to come.
Lynn was right on time. I didn't care if she did the dishes or not. They weren't my dishes. It was just a ploy to excite her, and it worked. She all but leaped into the room, knelt and threw her arms around my waist. “Major,” she sighed, kissing my fly.
“You can't avoid your punishment so easily, Lynn Alexandra. You know that. Stand up,” I said, and I played with her breasts to make her nipples hard.
The clamps I used this time were a heavier weight, and she winced.
“I have half a mind to put a clip on your clit,” I remarked casually.
Her eyes bugged out with horror. “No,” she breathed. “No."
“Oh, yes, I think so,” I told her. “Lie on your back on the bed.” As I advanced toward her, she backed up until she hit the bed and toppled over onto it. I smiled down at her and kicked her legs apart. “Bend your knees, slut."
She whimpered and bent them, and I took a fairly loose, lightweight plastic clip from my pocket and held it up. Then I began to play with her pussy to make her clitoris harden and in no time at all, she was wetting the bed. “Oh, God; oh, God,” she gasped, wriggling.
“You'd better hold still,” I advised, and I clipped her.
Instantly she arched. “Ow! Ah! Oh!” she shrieked and Paprika started barking.
“Get up and make her be quiet,” I said.
Lynn roused herself from subspace, opened the door and growled some words that sounded Russian. The dog went silent, and Lynn came back to the bed. Without being told, she knelt and licked my boots. “I apologize for the interruption, Major."
“It's nice to know she can act like a real dog,” I joked. “Now, lay face-down on the bed. Let's see how you like the crop."
I took it out and swished it around a bit, using the noise to get her excited. I shoved it under her nose on the bed. “Kiss it,” I demanded.
She did it, moaning.
“Shall I gag you this time?” I asked.
“Yes,” she nodded. “Rika may start up again."
I had a very small ball gag and I stuck it in her mouth. “It's not secured because some people find it scary. If you need to spit it out, go ahead. But I suggest you bite down on it to keep from screaming."
Lynn grunted her assent, and I stepped back and whacked her tight ass several times without stopping.
She started with surprise at the intensity of the sensation, and soon she was twisting under the blows, but in a very sinuous and sexy way that really got my juices flowing. I began to moan with need myself. But we had barely gotten started.
“Turn over, Lynn” I told her after she had very happily taken 20 lashes.
She flipped herself and looked up at me adoringly, and I smiled. “Spread your legs."
Lynn didn't lose a nanosecond obeying, and I gave her six more sharp strokes on the insides of each of her thighs while she thrust up at me trying to get more. “Mmmmmmm! Mmmmmmmm!” she moaned through the gag, which she was not inclined to spit out after all.
I stopped and watched her skin redden. I bent and kissed the soft, hot skin and she thrust up at me, seeking more sensation. I pulled back and flicked her clip and Lynn bucked wildly on the bed. Juices ran freely from between her legs. I flicked it a couple more times and watched her dance and squirm. Then I slid her down onto the floor and put my heel in her bush and massaged her, careful to avoid the clip further down.
Lynn was going wild. The clip intensified everything and made her desperate for release. But she still had a long way to go.
In my briefcase I had spreaders to keep her legs apart, and I pulled them out and attached them to her ankles. Then I put a dildo in her, set on low like before, shackled her hands behind her back, and went away for a while. It would seem an eternity to her.
After perhaps ten minutes, I returned with a pitcher of ice water. I found Lynn writhing like a madwoman on her back, probably on the edge of an orgasm she couldn't achieve without my assistance or permission.
I poured two glasses of water, one for each of us, because I knew she was getting hot and tired. But before I let her have any, I lifted her legs up by the spreader bar, took an ice cube and shoved it up her ass.
“Let me know when that melts,” I said as she flailed around madly, stimulated so many ways and unable to get off. It was a riot. I could tell from her glazed expression that she had never been happier.
“Mmm-mm-mm. Mmm-mm-mm,” she grunted.
“It's melted? Okay,” I said agreeably. “Sit up."
I knelt and removed the handcuffs and gag. I handed her the water and she drank a few gulps. “Thank you, thank you,” she gasped.
I ruffled her hair playfully. “How do you feel, slave?"
“I ache, I need to come, I wanna eat you, I wanna lick your boots,” she recited, her eyes glazing with utter longing and sincerity. Or maybe just lust.
“In good time, you slut. Just think how helpless you are, how much at my mercy you are,” I told her.
“May I grovel, Major?” she asked hopefully.
“Of course,” I said grandly. “It's why you exist, slave. Get down and kiss my boots, and then I'll let you have my pussy. Watching you suffer is very stimulating."
“Oh, I'm glad,” she sighed, and then she was on her face, scraping her clips on the rug as she did my bidding.
There was no way I could stand to wait very much longer, regardless of what she felt. I knew her willingness to wait all day to come was unfeigned; not being sure of orgasm was so stimulating that she could tolerate it indefinitely. That's where your mind goes when you're a sub. How well I knew! However, as the dominant, I had a choice, and I was about to exercise it.
“Lynn, open my pants and lick me out. I want to get off on your face,” I ordered.
She popped up instantly and hugged my waist, then opened my pants and waited to see how I wanted it. I regarded her indulgently for a moment, then put the gag back in, reached between her legs and flicked the clip. She screeched through the rubber and fell over on her side, convulsing as pre-orgasmic spasms assaulted her. It made me wish we could trade places.
I sat on the bed and removed the gag again. I waited for her to collect herself, and then I pointed at my own wet, aching pussy. “Eat me, slave,” I said softly, and I lay back to allow her access.
“Mmmmm, Lynn, that is so good. Nice and slow,” I sighed as she made circles, entered me, retreated, and repeated the cycle endlessly. She had quickly learned what I liked, the pressure, the pace, and the strokes. I held her head down and caressed her scalp, loving the feel of that soft hair. “Ohhhhhh, Lynn,” I moaned. I was so in love.
Her hands were under my ass, squeezing, lifting, caressing me, and she was moaning, too, the realization of my pleasure pleasing her, as it should have. Pleasing the dominant is every bit as stimulating to the sub as are pain, humiliation and denial. Some subs live for their dominant's pleasure alone; they don't want anything else. I could get into that on a situational basis, so I understood. But not coming indefinitely was a tad too extreme. And it wouldn't have worked for Lynn, either. She was way too strong a personality for that.
Pretty soon I was ready to climax, so I began to talk about it for Lynn's benefit. “Oh, honey, I am so close. I feel so hard. I'm so damn ready… oooohhhh, baby, lick me. Suck up that honey, lover. Get every drop."
“Yes, oh, yes, Major,” she grunted as she licked. “Come on me. Please come on me."
I pushed down into her and used my boot heels on her bare back to drive her on. It made me wish I were wearing spurs. Maybe next time.
When I felt Lynn banging her pelvis against the side of the bed in desperation, it triggered my own memories of lengthy denial and shot me right over the top. I convulsed, came in her mouth, and she groaned deeply and buried herself in me, intensifying my orgasms and getting soaked in the process. I continued to thrust into her until I couldn't come anymore, and believe me, I didn't hold back a bit. I used her exactly as she had begged me to do. I was too weak to push her away, so I let her clean me with her tongue. It was my right as a dominant anyway, to be cleaned up by my slave.
“Lynn,” I mumbled. “Mmmm, Lynn, that's enough. Stop."
She withdrew and I sat up. “You give head like a real slutty little streetwalker, you know that?"
“Yes, I'm scum. Punish me,” she begged.
“You're not fit to lick my boots, much less shine them, but I'm going to let you do both,” I told her. “Stand up."
She did, and I flicked the clip on her clit. Her eyes rolled back and her knees buckled, but I caught her in my arms. I tossed her onto the bed and went hunting for a stool that would work for my next trick. Lynn had decorative little items all over the house and pretty soon I found one in the shape of a leather camel I thought would work.
She was lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling when I came back. When I walked in, she slid to the floor on her face. “Please let me come,” she moaned into the carpet.
“You don't deserve to come,” I said cruelly. “Up on your knees now."
She struggled up and looked at me. She was so needy! I loved her to pieces for needing me. Looking into her eyes, I steadied her with one hand on her shoulder and very carefully and gently removed the clip.
Lynn sighed. “Oh, thank God."
“I wouldn't go that far,” I quipped.
“Even though I worship you?” she asked.
“Well, let's say my powers are limited,” I told her, and I kissed her deeply. She sagged and I caught her again. She was about at the end of her rope. I positioned the little camel and put my right boot on it. “Shine that, slut,” I said.
She squatted and let her weight down. She had no warning. As soon as her clit hit my leather, she exploded. “Ahhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhh!” she shrieked. I had to grab her and hold her on my boot so she could complete her orgasm, but even so, I wasn't done with her.
“Do the other boot, bitch,” I snarled.
Lynn hesitated briefly, then rose and sank again onto my left boot. The resulting climax almost blew her across the room, but again, I was there to hold her in place.
I made her lick herself off my boots, and then I made her come on them two more times. Finally I picked her up in my arms. She was limp and almost unconscious. Her head rolled loosely as I laid her down gently on the bed. I tenderly removed the dildo, the clips, the spreaders, the gag she had to have in every time she came. I got alcohol and a cloth from the bathroom, gave her a rubdown, and she sighed and made happy little noises as I worked on her.
“Oooohhhh, Janie,” she whispered. “Janie, how do you do that? How d'you make me come like that?"
“Oh, so no more ‘Fuck me, Major,’ huh?” I teased.
“Jjust love me. Say you love me,” Lynn pleaded, touching my face. Words can't express how soft and vulnerable she looked.
I smiled, lay down next to her and held her. “I love you, Lynn. I adore you, like your husbands should have, but I'm glad they didn't."
“I was an idiot,” she observed. “Get undressed and hold me, please. Take that uniform off."
I did as she asked. “Why are you an idiot?"
“Was, not am,” she pointed out with a wry grin.
“So? Why?” I asked, pulling her close and kissing her hair as we lay naked on the bed. The fan turned lazy circles above us and I thought for some reason of Scarlet O'Hara napping before the ball.
“I was unrealistic. After my first husband, I should have realized that even in this supposedly enlightened culture, men can't bring themselves to be like you, a tiger in the bedroom and a kitten everywhere else. And I can't stand to be controlled anywhere but here."
“Outside of here, I'm your slave,” I reminded her.
“Are you really?” she mused.
“If you want. I have wanted to belong to a strong woman all my life. I don't care how selfish and demanding; but she has to be nice, positive, brilliant, well, everything you are."
“I'm not nice. Don't go thinking that,” she cautioned me.
“And if that's true, why aren't you?” I challenged.
Lynn was quiet a while. “Because when I'm nice, I get hurt,” she whispered.
“Not by me. Hey, you wanna go out next weekend?” I asked to lighten the mood.
“Go out where?” she asked. I felt her tense.
“A movie? Dinner?” I suggested.
“If we stay in, I'll rent whatever you want to watch, and I'll make you whatever you like for dinner,” she countered.
Okay, I thought. Why doesn't she want to go out? But all I said was, “Yeah, but then I can't stay over."
“Nope. Those are the rules, and as my slave, I expect you to obey them,” she said, sitting up. Clearly, our intimate little chat had come to an end, and she had promised nothing. She looked over at the clock on the dresser. “Hey, sweetie, I'm sorry, but I have work to do. You'll have to excuse me."
“Okay,” I said, trying not to sound dejected. I felt pushed away. She had thrown me the bone of the prospect of a pleasant night in together, but she hadn't said she loved me, wouldn't go out with me, and wanted me out of there that minute.
“Don't sulk, Jane. You have more of me than anyone else,” Lynn warned, and I heard the steel in her voice. This woman who had just come screaming on my boots was not to be trifled with.
I looked at her and then I sank to my knees on the floor beside the bed. I took her hand and kissed it and said, “Yes, ma'am."
Lynn's face softened instantly and she smiled. “Good girl. After you dress, we can discuss next weekend, all right?” She bent and kissed me lightly and let herself out.
When I left my room, I found her in her study with the door open. She had changed to a tank top and shorts. I knocked.
“Come in. Sit a moment. What do you want me to make for you next Saturday?” She had already spread out a bunch of folders and her monitor was on. Her reading glasses were perched on her nose. Paprika was curled under the desk at her feet, and I was irrationally jealous of the dog for a brief instant.
“Aren't you coming to see me on Friday?” I asked.
“I'd love to. I can barbecue at your house if you like, instead of here. What's your pleasure?” she asked.
“Ribs, but not the thick ones. And I'll pick up some movies. I know your schedule is tight."
Lynn cocked her head at me. “You're very responsive to my needs and very flexible, Jane. Please don't think I don't appreciate that.” She stopped a moment to gather her thoughts. “I hope we can come to some accommodation that's comfortable for both of us."
“Me, too, Lynn. I want very much to accommodate you. It's what I do, you know,” I said.
“And you do it well.” She rose. “Let me see you out."
In no time at all I was home again, wondering what in the world I had to do to make this difficult little woman admit she loved me.