by Sasha Bond
It was only a couple of minutes before the bathroom door opened, yet it seemed like an eternity as I eagerly waited for... for my birthday present.
The heels got closer and closer until she was at my stall. She paused then pushed the door open.
"Hi, my pet," she greeted.
A slight gush leaked out of me at her words. "H-h-hi," I stammered.
"So, ready for the best present ever?" She asked, walking into the large handicapped stall and closing the door.
"H-h-how old are you?" I asked, praying she was eighteen, praying I wasn't about to commit a crime.
"Old enough to know you are a submissive looking for a young mistress," she answered, definitely seeing exactly what I wanted at the moment, yet not actually answering the question.
"Please tell me you're at least eighteen," I said, my cheeks red with excitement.
"Almost nineteen if you must know," she answered, "not that age matters."
"It does in the court of law," I replied, even as my mouth watered, the last barrier from complete submission to this seductress gone.
"Did you enjoy my little gift?" She asked, looking down at my hand with her pink panties.
"It was a surprise," I answered.
"That wasn't the question, my pet," she countered.
"I loved it," I answered, "It's not something I've ever received before as a gift."
She chuckled softly and then asked, "So, why are you still standing?"
I sheepishly admitted, as I lowered myself to my knees, "I haven't been with a woman for eight years."
"It's like riding a bike," she smiled, "once you get back going your natural reflexes take control."
"I hope so," I nodded, my face now at her crotch, her skirt and panties (wait, I had her panties in my hand) all that was stopping me from seeing and tasting her.
"So why did you decide to meet me here?" She asked, looking down at me.
"I don't know," I answered, which was largely true.
"Does your boyfriend know that you are about to lick pussy?" she asked.
"He has no idea," I admitted, although knowing him he would encourage it and love to watch.
"And if you had to choose between his cock and my pussy?" she asked, lifting up her dress and revealing a completely shaved pussy.
At this moment the answer was obvious. I was staring at perfection and I had to taste it. I struggled to look up, her pussy so inviting, but I did and replied, "Your pussy."
"Go ahead," she offered, "it's time to baptise you."
I had to smile. 'Baptise me' was my favourite song in the musical. I leaned forward, extended my tongue and began to lick. Her taste was marvellous and I immediately scolded myself for waiting so many years to lick a pussy. I began lapping hungrily, like a woman lost in the desert who finally finds water...I was indeed baptised again.
"Mmmmmmm," she moaned, "are you enjoying your present?"
"God, yes," I answered, again smiling at the accidental religious response.
"You know," she said, as her hands went through my hair, "This won't be a one-time thing."
I didn't even hesitate in my response, when I replied, while still licking, "I hope not."
"I hope not, what?" she asked, moving my head face away from her purifying wetness.
I looked up at her famished, wanting to dive back in her ocean; yet, unsure what she was implying.
"Are you my pet?" she asked.
I nodded, "Yes."
"And if you are my pet, my submissive, that would make me?" she asked, leading me to the trough.
It took me a second, but then the answer hit me with complete lucidity. "Mistress," I declared, the word flowing off my tongue naturally.
"Good pet," she purred and rewarded me by pulling me back into her pussy perfection.
I resumed licking; I resumed my baptism by fire; I began my journey as a submissive.
My head was spinning with consequence, understanding that my agreement that this was more than a one-time thing was completely unpredictable. Yet, my relationship with Jason was completely predictable and dull.
I needed this, I wanted this and I was willing to indeed submit to her again.
Her moans increased and she grabbed the back of my head and began to grind her pussy on my face. Her wetness coated my face, smeared my makeup, but I didn't care. I just wanted to get her off, to taste the full flood of her heavenly water.
And then...the baptism came (literally) as her cum coated my face. I eagerly lapped up her holy juice.
I was reborn.
I was a new woman.
She eventually let go of my head and looking down at me smiled, "Happy birthday."
"Thank you, Mistress," I replied, looking up at her, my face feeling wet and sticky.
"Do you want the rest of your present?" she asked.
"How could there be more?" I asked.
"I'll tell you when the show is over," she smiled, allowing her dress to drop back down. Before I could respond, she walked out of the stall, leaving me confused and on my knees.
Bewildered and consumed with lust I remained on my knees, my pussy on fire.
I was just about to deal with my burning inferno, when she suddenly walked back into the stall and ordered firmly, "And don't you touch that pussy of mine."
"Yes, Mistress," I nodded, a gush of wetness coming out of me at her words 'pussy of mine'.
"By the way," she smiled, "be careful with the puddle on the floor."
"Yes, Mistress," I again nodded, feeling ashamed at making such a mess.
She added, "And don't you dare clean up your make-up. I like my pets to walk around proud and privileged to have my cum on their face.
"Yes, Mistress," I agreed, apparently unable to say any other words.
She walked out again and this time I stood up, my knees slightly sore. I walked out of the stall and to the mirror. My make-up was indeed skewed and I looked like I just got fucked... although that wasn't the case... although damn it I needed to get fucked!
I obeyed her order, unsure how I would explain this to Jason, and also curious what she meant by another present.
I returned to the play and was surprised to realize I had missed a couple more songs. Returning to my seat, as soon as I sat down, Jason leaned over and asked, "Where have you been?"
I lied, "My stomach was a bit upset."
He gave me a look, but thankfully in the dark it would be hard to see how askew my make-up had become. That said, I did wonder if my face smelt like pussy.
I glanced over to the teenager, whose name I realized I still didn't know, and she was watching the hilarious 'Joseph Smith American Moses'.
I tried to watch the show I loved so much, but struggled as I pondered the crazy situation I was in. Did Jason notice my messy make-up or smell the teen's pussy juice on my face? What was the rest of the birthday present that the teen promised? How was I going to explain my look to Jason? When was I going to be allowed to come?
As the play continued, neither my man nor my Mistress put their hand on my knee, but as the song ended, the teen leaned over and whispered, "I want you to come during the climactic final number."
I gasped. I was near orgasmic bliss and it sure wouldn't take long, yet doing it in a full theatre, I tended to be a screamer, was something I would not normally do. I also couldn't help but smirk at her word choice.
Yet... I desperately needed to have an orgasm.
Moreover... I felt utterly compelled to obey this seductive teenager.
My hands trembled as the song ended. I knew there was still another reprise of a song in 'Hasa Diga Eebowai' before the big finale.
I had that long to decide if I was going to obey.
Part of me argued how ludicrous it was to obey a teenager.
Part of me argued how amazing it felt to obey the teenager.
Part of me argued that I was thirty and should be making adult decisions.
Part of me argued that making adult decisions had made me have a bla
nd unsatisfactory sex life for years.
Part of me argued I needed to be dignified.
Part of me argued I needed to just let go and be a slut.
Yet, even as my mind contemplated the many different ramifications of each decision, my burning, leaking pussy was overriding my moral dignity.
As the reprise ended, the teenager put her hand on my leg and gave me a firm squeeze.
I nodded in the dark, not sure if she could see my trepidation and anticipation...two conflicting emotions that only seemed to enhance my desire to erupt.
And then, after a couple of minutes of character chatting, 'Tomorrow is a Latter Day' began. I took a deep breath, glanced over to Jason, who was watching the play, and moved my left hand under my skirt, slithered slightly on the seat so my pussy was going to leak onto the floor and not the chair, and began rubbing myself.
I glanced at the teenager who was watching intently, a small smile on her face.
When I made my first moan, reaching climactic bliss not going to take long after all the anticipation, I felt Jason's hot breath as he whispered, "What are you doing?"
I moaned again in response, biting my lip so as to not alert the entire balcony and theatre, but didn't dare speak.
Instead, I closed my eyes, replayed the scene in the washroom, and allowed the natural course of pleasure created by the Lord to wash over me.
My legs stiffened, my back arched and I moaned much louder than I wanted to as the flood of lust rushed out of me.
The teen whispered, "That's it, good girl."
Jason whispered, "What did she say?"
My head light, I couldn't respond, as the pleasure that coursed through me hit me like a thousand sparks of fire, creating pleasure not only in my pussy, but fingers and toes, up my back and through every pore of my body.
"What do you say after being allowed such pleasure?" the teen asked, her hand back on my leg.
"What the Hell?" Jason questioned, seeing the teenager's hand on my leg.
I ignored my on and off boyfriend of three years, actually thinking, 'Serves the bastard right for all the times he broke up with me', as I turned to her and replied, "Thank you, Mistress."
"You're welcome, my pet," she nodded, her hand moving under my dress and to my still leaking and tremoring pussy.
I imagine Jason was watching in shock and awe, but I focused on her touch, her words.
She moved her finger inside me for just a moment and I let out another moan and watched as she moved her hand back out from under my dress and to her lips.
"Holy fuck!" Jason said, not angry, but rather in shock.
I imagined his dick was rock hard, but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.
Instead, I turned my gaze and watched the rest of the show, my pussy still leaking as my cheeks flushed in the afterglow of my most intense orgasm in eight years.
When the show ended, I stood up to clap and felt more of my cum leak down my leg and I knew I needed to get some water in me ASAP.
After the final bows, the lights came on and the teen said, "You're coming home with me and my Mom."
It was then, after all the crazy things I did, that I remembered that she was with her Mom.
I gasped, "With your Mom?"
"Oh yes, you are about to have the best 30th birthday evening in the history of 30th birthday parties," the teen promised.
The Mom looked at me and nodded, "Happy birthday."
"Thank you, ma'am," I nodded, the whole conversation surreal... my boyfriend right behind me.
"It's Mistress," the teenager corrected.
"Sorry, thank you, Mistress," I reworded, my mind completely overwhelmed with what was currently transpiring.
The teen took my hand. "Let's go."
"Elizabeth, what is going on?" asked Jason.
I turned to him, unsure how to answer it, even as other patrons watched the strange situation, "I'm going home with these two."
"Why?" he asked, looking utterly confused.
Somehow feeling empowered, even as I gave myself to a teenager and apparently her mother (which was intriguing in itself) I replied, "Because like you often do in the summer when you break up with me to bang some summer sluts, I found myself a better offer."
The teen added, "It's really a shame you didn't see her for what she truly is."
"And what's that?" Jason asked,
"A submissive slut," the teen answered, grabbing my hand and leading me away from him.
I didn't look back as I knew this decision was one that ended one aspect of my life and started another. I didn't expect I would end up in a relationship with this teen, but in one simple act I knew for sure that Jason wasn't for me... partly because he was a player, but even more so because he didn't have a pussy.
I had denied for years that I was bisexual, or maybe even a lesbian, but all those doubts, all those refusals to accept my own sexuality, were gone.
I was a lesbian.
I was a submissive lesbian.
Indeed, the teenager, who I later learned was named Bree, gave me the best birthday present anyone could ever ask for… "Her true identity."
Sasha Bond HOT TITLE:
BDSM HEAVEN
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B075771T6Y
CHECK OUT OTHER HOT & STEAMY EROTIC TITLES
(EXCLUSIVE TO AMAZON) by Sasha Bond:
USA
https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_2?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=sasha+bond
UK
https://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_2?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=SASHA+BOND