Continued from: Bi-polar BDSM
A Sarah Jane story
As our eyes met, a knowing smile played across her ruby-red lips, and she reclined her head in a gesture of acknowledgement. "I won't be long, sweetheart," she purred, her voice a sultry whisper. With a wink and a twirl of her whip, Mistress Andrea swept past us, descending the stairs with a predatory grace, highlighted by the click of her boots.
I turned to Russell, my eyes gleaming with a mixture of lust and mischief. "Well, young man," I spoke, my finger tracing a line across his jaw, "it seems we have a few moments to ourselves. Shall we make the most of them?"
"Yes, Ma'am," he dutifully replied, following behind me like a puppy dog.
With a relaxing sigh, I lowered myself on to the plush velvet loveseat in the bar. Slowly, deliberately, I slipped my feet from the confines of my towering stilettos, relishing the cool air that caressed my stocking-clad toes.
Russell assumed his rightful position on the floor. knowing that he is not permitted onto furniture unless expressly invited. I settled back into the sofa, pressing the pad of my foot against his lips and nose. Each touch, each kiss and lick from Russell, served as a reminder of the power I now held over him, and I was savouring every last drop.
The sudden intrusion of Summer's melodious voice, coupled with her playful giggle, startled me from my Domme-space. My head snapped up, my eyes widening as I took in the sight of her, literally in her underwear outside, standing in the patio doorway under a grape arbor.
She brought her hands over her mouth and giggled again.
"Papa! Que fais-tu avec un collier?"
I think she said something to the effect of, "Daddy, what's with the collar?"
"Hi, Summer," I seductively hissed at her while chuckling. I couldn't help but recognize the absurdity of the situation. Here I was, lounging like a Goddess while the man she so recently was calling 'Daddy', groveled at my feet, his face buried in the delicate arches of my stockings.
Before I could elaborate further on the delightful intricacies of our new dynamic, Summer squealed in joy and launched herself onto me, her petite frame colliding with mine in a tangle of kisses and laughter.
With Summer half-naked and her tongue down my throat, Mistress Andrea strode into the room, clearly she had finished with Mandy downstairs, a riding crop remained clutched firmly in her hand.
With a flick of her wrist, she snapped the riding crop off Summer's exposed bum, the sharp crack of leather against flesh echoing through the room. Summer let out a surprised yelp, but I could see the glimmer of excitement in her eyes as she reluctantly disentangled herself from me.
"Off, young lady," Mistress commanded, giving her one more with the crop for good measure. "We mustn't molest the guests," Mistress smirked again, holding back a giggle.
"Why don't you take Russell outside and he can help you pick some grapes, huni?"
"Yes, Madame," she quickly replied, before turning to the kneeling Russell and helping him to his feet by his wrist.
"Allez, Papa. Vite."
I think she was deliberately continuing to call him Daddy, but in French, to spite his new role. I didn't mind, it was cute, she's cute all-around.
"Come, Daddy...watch me pick grapes in my underwear and high heels...while your penis is locked in a chastity cage..." Right!?
I wonder if Mistress plans all this ahead of time, is she just that good?
I didn't ask, as she settled in beside me for some much anticipated girl-talk. I reached for her gloved hand, bringing it to my lips to kiss it as a gesture of my admiration of her.
"How's Mandy, Mistress?" I asked curiously, wondering why I hadn't seen her yet.
"Oh, she's fine, baby. Just taking some time to decompress then a shower and clean up. She has to make herself look like an innocent soccer mom again, right?" Mistress stifled a smile as she spoke.
"She said she'd come find you though, in a little while." Mistress replied, while stroking my hair.
"Was there something you wanted to ask me, Sarah Jane?" she pressed.
Emboldened, I pressed on, my cheeks flushing slightly as I voiced the desire that had been simmering beneath the surface since this morning. My voice became low and intense, as I leaned forward, my eyes locking with hers. "I want to fuck Russell with a strap-on," I stated bluntly, the vulgarity of my words sending a thrill through my body.
Mistress' raised eyebrow and devilish smile spoke volumes without her needing to utter a single word. She leaned in, her lips brushing against my forehead in a soft kiss, a gesture that was both tender and possessive.
"Good girl," she whispered, as our eyes met, and a silent understanding passed between us.
"I can help with that," Mistress cooed, as I snuggled into her closer.
Sarah Jane 💟
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