by Mira Paul
“Now show me you want it,” Michelle said, and kept her hips still, forcing Mara to face her fears and impale her own ass on her Mistress’s cock.
Mara could feel tears running down her cheeks as she slowly pushed back onto the latex. The cock hurt as it slowly stretched her open, but she quickly discovered it also felt good. There was a popping sensation as the head of the cock finally slipped all the way into her ass, then Michelle moaned behind her and began to move.
Mara could feel her Mistress’s fingers digging into her hips as she thrust deeply into her body. The sensation of being stretched open, of being violated, was incredible, and she realized she was loving the exquisite combination of pleasure and pain almost as much as she got off on the feeling of being her Mistress’s toy. She drooled around the gag still in her mouth as Michelle fucked her first slowly, then with ever increasing speed and force, until her Mistress orgasmed with one final thrust of her hips that pushed Mara’s face deep into the bed.
“Did you come from that, little animal?” Michelle asked her slave when she finally got her breath back. “Did you come from my using your ass?”
Mara shook her head.
“Good girl.” Michelle patted her on the head and slowly pulled her cock from Mara’s ass, before removing it and the harness from her own body.
Mara moaned in desperation. Sometimes she hated how it seemed like the more Michelle asked of her, the more she seemed to want.
“What?” Michelle asked her. “You still need to be filled?”
Mara nodded and arched her back further to try to lure Michelle into a touch.
“I don’t know,” Michelle said. “I think it might be time for Sabbath dinner. I think it might be nice to have you naked and hungry at my feet.”
Mara’s body shook with desire, but she knelt up and tried not to cry as Michelle took the gag from her mouth. She knew that being forced to wait for satisfaction would only make it hotter when she was finally allowed her release, but that didn’t make the time in between any less of a torment.
Michelle watched Mara trembling as she pulled the casserole from the refrigerator and put it on the table before lighting the Sabbath candles and saying the prayers. She loved how much her girl wanted her, and how much she would give her even when Mara desperately wanted her to take.
Seeing Mara curled up naked at her feet, eating from her plate on the floor, filled Michelle with an overwhelming amount of love for her slave, and renewed her amazement at what they had built together. She knew how much it cost Mara to sit, eat, and wait, instead of begging for release, and Michelle couldn’t help smiling at her girl’s devotion.
Reaching to take a piece of challah, Michelle noticed the matching whip curled up beside the intricately braided bread.
“Did you make this for me?” she asked, holding it up questioningly before Mara’s eyes.
“Yes, Mistress.” Mara looked down shyly. “Do you like it?”
“It’s beautiful.” Michelle smiled down at her girl. “I’ll have to use it on you after dinner. It’s been a while since you had a good beating.”
Mara closed her eyes for a moment before returning Michelle’s gaze. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.”
They talked of inconsequential matters for the rest of the meal, but Michelle couldn’t help noticing how quickly Mara finished her food and how often her eyes flicked towards the crimson tails of the flogger where they fell over the edge of her lap.
After she and Mara had put away the food and gotten the dishes into the dishwasher, Michelle picked the flogger back off of the chair where she had left it and gestured her slave into the living room. “Wait here,” she said before heading back down the hall to get the other things she thought she might need.
When she returned, Mara was still standing where Michelle had left her, in the middle of the living room floor. Michelle took the spreader bars and shackles she was holding and used one set to hold her slave’s ankles apart where she was standing and the other pair to chain her wrists to the permanent attachment point they had set in the ceiling.
Walking around to stand in front of Mara, Michelle held up the flogger in front of her eyes. “You want this?” she asked.
Mara nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” Michelle smiled and stepped behind her slave.
Michelle started the beating gently, moving her arm to slap the flogger’s tails in slow red X’s across her girlfriend’s back and ass. Then, as she noticed Mara leaning into the strokes, she began slowly ramping up the intensity.
As her muscles warmed up, Michelle started to take more and more pleasure in the beating, watching as Mara would flinch under the fall of the whip before positioning her body to take more. It was, she always found, erotic to see how her slave chose to take pain because Mara knew it pleased her, and she put more and more of her considerable strength behind the strokes until the girl was actually crying out in pain.
Michelle took the beating farther, until Mara began not safe-wording, but begging her to stop. Michelle dropped the whip and came around to stand in front of her slave.
“Thank you, Mistress, thank you. Thank you.” Mara repeated the words over and over under her breath as Michelle unhitched her wrists from the ceiling and let her drape her arms over her neck.
Michelle lifted her chin and kissed the tears from her face.
“Do you still want me to fuck you, little animal?”
Mara nodded vigorously, “Oh yes, Mistress, yes.”
“Then get down on your knees.”
Mara found it difficult to get to the floor with her ankles still held apart by the spreader bar, but the beating had reawakened her ardor and she was once again desperate to get fucked.
Once she was on the ground, her hands stretched out before her, her ankles still held wide apart by the bar, she heard the sound of Michelle’s bare feet on the floor as she walked around her, taking her time.
“Such a beautiful little slave.” Michelle’s voice came from far above her head. “So desperate to be fucked.”
Mara writhed under the sound of the words, then gasped as Michelle knelt down behind her and stroked her fingers over her cunt.
“So wet already from your beating, aren’t you, little slave?” Michelle asked as she gently moved her fingers over Mara’s inner lips.
“Yes, ma’am, yes, ma’am,” Mara ached to feel her Mistress’s hands inside her.
“You liked that whip, didn’t you?” Michelle asked, then Mara felt something firm and rough sliding into her cunt.
“Oh yes, Mistress.” Mara gasped as the object moved slowly deeper inside of her, rubbing against her inner walls.
“You like it even better now, I think,” Michelle said, and Mara finally realized she was being fucked with the braided leather handle that she herself had made that afternoon.
“Yes, ma’am. Yes.” Mara said, loving the feel of the friction from the texture of the whip as her Mistress moved it in and out of her.
“Do you think you can come from the whip?” Michelle asked as she continued to fuck Mara deeply with its handle. “Do you think you can come from it fucking you while you still feel its lashes on your skin?”
“Yes, ma’am, yes!” Mara felt her cunt convulse around the whip in orgasm even as she answered her Mistress’s words.
“Good girl,” Michelle said, pulling the whip from her slave’s body and tossing it aside. “But I don’t think I’m done with you yet.”
Mara felt Michelle come up close behind her and slip three fingers into her body, rubbing her other thumb across her orgasm sensitized clit.
“You’re so wet and open,” Michelle said, continuing to work her fingers in and out of Mara’s body, pulling them apart to stretch her wide before pushing them in deep. “I want to see if I can get my whole hand inside of you.”
Mara moaned at the thought. Michelle had never fisted her while she was tied up and vulnerable like this, and the idea seemed deliciously overwhelming as her Mistress’
s fingers kept moving inside of her.
“I already have four fingers in you, slave,” Michelle continued, flicking her thumb once more over Mara’s clit. “Do you want me to make you come again before I go for the rest?”
“No, ma’am, no.” Mara shook her head violently, knowing how much harder it would be for her Mistress to get her hand inside of her once she had orgasmed again.
“Are you sure?” Michelle asked, a smile in her voice as she rubbed Mara’s clit once more.
“Please, Mistress, please,” Mara begged. “Just give me your hand.”
“Well,” Michelle said, “if you insist.” And Mara felt the achingly painful stretch as her Mistress pulled her fingers out, curled her thumb in between them, and pushed her whole hand back into her body.
Mara screamed at the intensity of the invasion, caught on the boundary between pleasure and pain, and felt herself orgasm around her lover’s hand and wrist where they were trapped inside her body. It hurt to have her body convulsing around such a large, firm object and she gasped and begged Michelle to stop as her Mistress reached around her body with her other hand and, with two fingers on her clit, brought her to orgasm again and again.
Finally, when Mara was so overwhelmed by pleasure and pain that she could barely catch her breath, she felt Michelle slowly ease her hand from her body. As her cunt was emptied, she orgasmed one last time, and panted in exhaustion as her lover released her ankles and wrists from their bonds and slowly eased her onto her back.
Michelle lay down beside her and pulled Mara into her arms, hugging her close before slowly dipping her fingers into Mara’s mouth.
The taste of her own fluids on her Mistress’s fingers made Mara moan once again, and she could feel Michelle laughing beneath her.
“Yes, girl,” she said, “you can.”
With permission granted, Mara gently pulled off the lace panties her lover had put on under the dress she had put on as a concession for the formality of the Sabbath, and moved her head between her Mistress’s legs.
She loved the way Michelle tasted of salt, sweat, and arousal as she stroked her with her tongue. Mara gently teased her Mistress’s clit the way she knew Michelle enjoyed before moving lower to push her tongue inside her slender body and gently nibble the edges of her inner lips. Suddenly, she felt Michelle’s hands on her head, pulling her to her clit so tightly that she could barely breathe. Mara licked and sucked on the tender bud, dizzy with lust and lack of air, until she felt Michelle’s entire body tense beneath her and let go.
When Michelle’s hands released the pressure on her hair, Mara crawled up along her body to lie once again in her Mistress’s arms.
“Gut Shabbes, my love,” she said.
Michelle kissed her on the forehead before snuggling her close. “You really do bring the light into my life.”
The Taming of Ms. Lucy
by Louisa Bacio
Lucy had seen enough in her life and as headmistress at the premier San Francisco Sex University to consider herself a good judge of character. She knew when a person truly feared something, and when they’d rather relish giving up control and diving into the phobia. Sometimes fear was merely another word for fantasy. What a person was really afraid of was her personal reaction to the situation and, simply, the unknown.
When she and the university took on a student, they did all the necessary vetting: Was the person applying for personal reasons, or some ulterior motive? Anyone with a hidden dark intent quickly received a rejection notice. Ms. Lucy rarely took chances on someone who she thought wouldn’t “make it.” So it was with particular sadness that she saw what had happened to Clarissa Marciano, or Claire, as most others at the school knew her. Claire came to the school at the urging of her fiancé, and she entered the S&M sequence. A soft-spoken young woman from a privileged Italian family, Claire had spent most of her life isolated and protected. Her first sexual experience had been with an older woman, one who took her same-sex virginity, then discarded her, leaving her sleeping on sheets spotted with the blood from her hymen. The situation might be all too familiar with heterosexual first-time sexual encounters, but the callousness of the woman left Claire even more devastated. So much, in fact, that she questioned her own sexuality, and her next partner, Mario, was a dominant male, one her family approved of. Now Claire was going to marry him.
Pacing the marble hallway in her personal quarters, Lucy ignored the sharp clips of her heels on the tiles as she contemplated the choices that lay before her. If anyone had seen her, with her red curls streaming about her face, they would be taken aback by the lack of control in her eyes. She knew she looked like a woman on a mission, and possessed.
The story touched Ms. Lucy in a way that she hadn’t encountered in a long time. Her own upbringing was very similar to that of Claire’s. When she left New York for California, she never looked back at her choices, or her past.
During her stay at SFSU, Ms. Lucy hoped Claire would come into her own and find her true path. Instead, she’d been beaten down by the very system that was supposed to rebuild her. Many students initially “failed” the S&M sequence. Few passed through completely unscathed. That step was part of the process. Those who faltered and went into another program were never meant to be there. Others got upset, but then that emotion turned to anger. Before Claire had been able to prove herself to others and, more importantly, herself, she’d been ripped from the school and held against her will. Claire certainly wasn’t a failure; she just hadn’t been given the chance to succeed. Now, before she could get there, she wanted to flee back home.
Only one student had willingly decided to stay on at the university, and that was the promising Amanda. If Amanda stayed on track, Lucy predicted a bright and pleasure-filled future for her. The others who had decided to return home seemed like they would do well. With the strength of her brother Reed, the wispy Willow would heal from the experience, and most likely come out stronger. Out of all of the students, Ms. Lucy most worried about Claire.
Ms. Lucy hoped to fix what was broken in Claire, and hopefully stop that wedding from happening. Otherwise, she thought, Claire would never be happy.
As she reached the end of her hallway, Lucy hesitated outside a closed door. Hand raised to knock, she instead used it to push back her errant curls, and turned around to make another lap. She was forty-one years old, and headmistress at one of the most esteemed sex schools in the nation, let alone the world. She willed herself to get back in control of her emotions, and face the decisions that lay beyond that door. She took a deep breath and headed back, not pausing to knock, but opening it and stepping inside.
Cowering in the corner of the red velvet couch, clad in a gray sweatshirt and baggy black sweatpants, Claire looked up. Tears streaked down her face. At the sight of Ms. Lucy, her eyes widened.
“Is it time for me to go home yet?” she asked, barely above a whisper.
Ms. Lucy wondered what had happened to the budding self-confidence she had seen developing in the beaten young woman in front of her. In order to get her back on track, she’d have to be firm. Claire might not have a choice in her immediate future, but Ms. Lucy wasn’t going to allow her to see that.
“I don’t think so,” Ms. Lucy replied. “You signed a contract to finish out the program here, and I’d very much like you to consider staying.”
She wouldn’t have thought it possible, but Claire’s face crumpled further, and she pulled her knees tight against her chest. Her pale, bare toes stuck out from the dark sweatpants, and she unconsciously pulled the extra long material over her feet in comfort.
“But I said I wanted to go home. You said I could go home,” she whined.
Lucy’s heart went out to the girl, and she moved to sit next to her on the sofa. She wrapped her arms around Claire’s slight form, tucking Claire’s head beneath her chin and against her chest. Claire’s body shivered in her embrace. She smelled clean and fresh, like a spring meadow full of just-blooming wildflowers.
“I know what I said, but I think it would be better for you if you stayed on,” Lucy explained.
“I don’t think I could face them again, the other students. They know what happened to me, and I’m such a failure. I just need to go home, and Mario and my family will take care of me.”
“You’re no such thing, and you have to stop thinking like that about yourself. You don’t want to go home like this. What would your family say? What would Mario say?”
Ms. Lucy hated putting the situation to Claire like that, but really, what choice did she have? She wouldn’t do what the others had done, and keep her there against her will. Claire had to make the choice.
“And you don’t need to go back to the dorms,” Lucy said, coming up with the idea on the spot. “Instead you can stay here with me, in my private quarters, and I’ll help tutor you.”
“Really?” Claire asked, a bit of surprise in her voice. “You would do that?”
“Of course I would do that. You’re a bright, gorgeous woman. Now we just have to make you see that.”
Momentarily, Ms. Lucy wondered what she was doing. It had been a long time since she had let anyone stay at her home, and it was even longer since she’d let someone into her heart. In such a short amount of time, somehow Claire had done both.
“Now, let me show you the guest room, and see if I have anything less unsightly to wear,” she said. “You know I abhor gray and sweats.”
With the lightest of laughs, Claire agreed and let herself be helped up. As Ms. Lucy took the woman’s hand in hers, she felt a tingle of energy pass between them. Claire tightened her grip more and met her gaze straight on. Ms. Lucy had a feeling that it wouldn’t take long for Claire to find the strength she possessed.
* * * *
The room Ms. Lucy took her to outdid any dream room Claire could imagine. Plush white carpeting cushioned her feet as she took one step inside. The walls were painted a rich crème color on top, with a striped cornflower blue and crème wallpaper below, beneath a blue border circling the room. A huge bay window with pillowed seating looked out upon the expanse of the SFSU. With all that, Claire’s eyes kept going back to the centerpiece of the room: a canopy bed with a billowing off-white valiance and a brilliant blue satin bedspread. Lush pillows created an inviting oasis that she longed to dive into.