“Keep your hands there until I tell you to move them. Understand?” She’s panting as much as I am right now, but the authority in her voice is still loud and clear.
“Yes, Mistress.”
She grabs the dildo that I wore here, and lays in front of me. Let me just tell you, when she spreads her legs, opening herself to me, it takes everything in me not to dive in face first. All pink and swollen. And so fucking wet. Damn, she looks delicious. My mouth actually waters, and I have to swallow constantly to make sure I don’t drool. God, baby, let me down there, and give me something to swallow! If I think it hard enough, maybe she’ll hear it.
It’s not helping matters when she starts fucking herself with my dildo. Ever watch a gorgeous woman fuck herself for you? Spread open so wide that you feel like you’re center stage for the performance of a lifetime? It’s fucking unbelievable. It only serves to make me thirstier for her.
“Mmm. Fuck yourself for me.”
She cries out, and her movements get faster. This time I’m not sorry that I said the words out loud. Especially getting that reaction from her. Our breathing is erratic, and my body bucks wildly with hers as though I can feel everything she’s doing to herself. I’m on the verge of coming again when she suddenly pulls the dildo out of her. I whimper my disappointment until…
“Eat me, Cassidy!”
Oh, baby! I dive into that pussy as though my salvation is in there. Maybe it is. A long, deep groan reverberates throughout the room. I don’t know if it was me or her, or both. Doesn’t matter. She tastes as amazing as I imagined. I can’t get enough. I feast on her like she’s my last meal. I will be completely satisfied if she is. Believe me.
“Use your fingers, Cassidy!”
Her body writhes beneath me, and I use my left hand to keep her from detaching herself from my lips, tongue and teeth. I use my right hand to bury three fingers inside of her. I curl them slightly as I pound into her, alternating sucking and tonguing her clit.
“Cassidy!” she gasps. Her pussy walls contract around my fingers, drawing me in further.
I give up my delicious meal for a quick second to make a request. “Come for me like I know you can. Let me drink you.”
Her back arches off the bed with a scream, and she gives me exactly what I want. Oh yeah! I lap her up with all the thirst of a woman who’s been in the desert for days without water. That’s how I felt those days without her. Now that she’s with me, I’m going to nourish myself until she has nothing more to give.
I COULD LIVE here. I make that very important conclusion as I lay exhausted, my head resting against my Mistress’s thigh, her hand still fisted tight in my hair. Her breathing is still erratic. Mine? I’m taking deep breaths just to take in more of her essence. Her scent is intoxicating. Again, I say, I could live here. Forever. To put an exclamation on my decision, I kiss her mound lightly.
I sigh silently when she extracts her hand from my hair. Apparently a light kiss after what I just did to her is way too personal. Her gentle scratch on my head, though, confuses me. The signals she’s sending me are as hot and cold as a Katy Perry song.
“Go into the bathroom and start the shower for us,” she orders softly. A shower together? That’s a plus, right? There’s only one problem.
“Um, Mistress?”
She gives me a questioning look. I see what I believe is disappointment in the depths of her eyes. Oh, honey, I want to take a shower with you. Believe me! How do tell my Mistress that she left something, um, behind without looking like a complete tool. I go for the ‘look back, and hope she knows what I’m talking about’ approach. Her brows furrow, but I see the moment it dawns on her.
“Oh!” She wants to laugh. I know she does. She clears her throat as she scoots out from under me. “Sorry, Cassidy.”
Okay, it’s not funny. I have beads in my ass! She’s back there snickering. Well, she’s not really. I don’t know if Mistress is capable of snickering. But she’s patting me on the butt, telling me to relax. Relax? That was easy when I was horny as hell. Now that embarrassment has taken the place of horniness, relaxing is not really working.
“Cassidy, this is going to hurt if you don’t… let go.”
She even sounds embarrassed. I find it quite ironic, after everything we’ve done with each other, that either of us would find this situation humiliating. I take a deep, calming breath (I hope), and do my best to do as she says, and let go. With a compassionate hand, Mistress relieves me of my dilemma. It takes me a moment to stand. Not because I’m hurt, but because I don’t know if I can face her.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes, Mistress.” My answer is muffled because I have essentially buried my face in the bed. Perhaps if I stay here long enough I’ll smother myself, and save myself from further shame.
“Come here, Cassidy.”
Why do all of her demands make me feel like I’m the one who is making the decisions in this room? Without—much—hesitation, I obey, and face her. We’re both still completely naked, so at least we’re on the same playing field there.
“Are you sure you’re okay? I’m sorry about that.”
Her apology is timid. Damn, she is such an enigma. Forceful and confident one moment. Sheepish and demure the next. It makes me wonder who the real Mistress is. There’s no doubt in my mind that she’s a Dom. She’s shown me that quite a few times. But there’s so much more in there. It’s enough to make me want to know everything. Her magnetism is so strong that I find myself leaning down to kiss her.
“Cassidy,” she breathes, her strong yet delicate hand braces against my sternum. Damn it! Why won’t she just let me kiss her? I know she would feel something. I sigh, not bothering to hold it in, and lower my head. “Start the shower. I’ll be right in.”
I know it’s my imagination, but I’m going to hold on to the little hitch I thought I heard in her voice.
“Yes, Mistress.”
It’s wrong, and should be physically impossible, to be in a pissy mood after the orgasms I just had. And, yet, here I am. Trying not to slam doors, or throw a tantrum, just because my Mistress is driving me insane. Just as I think we could have something more personal going on, she shuts down. Maybe I’m just a damn fool. This is what she does for a fucking living. What makes me think I’m better than anyone else she’s had in this room? Who am I to her but another Sub?
Great. Now I’m depressed. I turn on the shower, and calm myself before going to get her. I catch her in an unguarded moment, and my voice dies in my throat. She’s standing where I left her, near the foot of the bed. She has her forehead resting against the bedpost, her hands gripping it tightly if her white knuckles are any indication. She takes two deep breaths—and, was that a sniffle? —before straightening up. Instinctively, I know she will not be happy if she knows I caught her being so vulnerable. Right before I duck back into the bathroom, I see her wipe at her cheek. If I was confused before, my head is completely screwed up now.
“It’s ready, Mistress!” I call out from deep within the bathroom. I’m not willing to let her in on my little bit of voyeurism.
“Thank you.”
I’m so focused on being casual, that I totally miss her entrance, and I’m startled by her close proximity. There’s no sign of her earlier melancholy. I’m not entirely sure how to take that. I’ll say one thing, she sure keeps me guessing.
“Yes, Mistress.” I wait patiently for her next demand, wondering briefly what the fuck this woman did to me. With her, I’m someone completely different. She sweeps her hair up into a messy bun, then sways past me—with an ass like that, swaying is a requirement—grabbing my hand.
I’ve never showered with any of my exes. I’ve always considered it a personal thing. I don’t want some chick watching my wash myself, or shave. I do all of that before I see them so I can look sexy for them. Showering with someone takes all of the mystery out of it. Or so I thought. Standing here now, seeing the water sluicing down Mistress’s body renders me speechless. T
Mistress hands me a loofah dolloped with a lavender chamomile body wash I now identify as her scent.
“Wash me.”
Oh yeah. My libido overrules my confused psyche. Again, I’m ready and willing to give her anything she wants no matter what it costs me mentally or emotionally.
I bathe her tenderly, keeping my eyes locked with hers. I needed her to feel something. For me, this shower isn’t about sex. It’s about intimacy. I want it to be the same for her. Maybe I’m fooling myself, but I have to try. I move closer to her, our bodies almost touching. Her breathing changes, becoming more rapid, especially when my hand progresses downward. She doesn’t move. Her restraint is amazing. Even when I cup her, the only thing that gives her away is an almost inaudible moan.
Mistress closes her eyes, and I take the opportunity to dip my head. I don’t dare kiss her on the lips. Yet. So I press my lips to her neck, and savor the feel of her wet, soft skin. I’m encouraged when she moans louder, and leans into me. This is good. Next stop, lips. I’m planning my route when…
“Cassidy, no.” She pushes me away, but I can see how affected she is by what I’m doing. She turns away from me, rinsing off the soap suds.
“Why?” I’m taking a chance by stepping getting closer to her, but I don’t care. I lay my hands on her shoulders, and she stiffens before shrugging them off. Goddamn it. I wish to hell I knew what was going on in her mind. “Mistress?” Fuck. It’s times like this when knowing her name would be great.
She crouches to retrieve the sponge I had dropped in order to get my bare hands on her, and hands it to me.
“Finish in here, and then join me in the room.”
Wait. What? She’s getting out? Sigh. Guess so. She steps out of the shower, snapping a towel from the rod. Okay, she’s pissed. Maybe she’ll punish me. I let a grin form as I think about the possibilities. I don’t know why I’m getting all clean when she’s just going to dirty me up again. But she said to finish in here, and that’s what I’m going to do. Maybe she needs a little time to set up for whatever she has in store for me. I’m getting aroused just thinking about it.
I wonder what it would be like to be with Mistress all the time. Am I thinking of her as a girlfriend? Hell yeah, I am. You would, too, if you felt half the things she has done to me. Would it be like this all the time? Her dominating me? Or would we make love? Mmm, making love to her sounds wonderful. What would she be like without the pain or the bondage. Both of us being in control equally. Touching, kissing…
All right, Cass. Don’t get ahead of yourself. Mistress is obviously not ready for all of that. Yet. Give her a few more times with you, and maybe she’ll be more open to the idea. I finish my shower with my little pep talk. I have a plan. Sure, right now my Mistress is a little standoffish, but all I need is a little more time.
I grab a towel from the rack. My clothes are in the room, but I’m sure I won’t need them for at least another hour. More if I have anything to say about it. I dry my body—which is buzzing with anticipation—and leave the towel. I’m not going to need it anyway.
My heart plummets to my feet when I walk into the room. Mistress is sitting there as she was the first time I saw her, fully dressed. With her mask on. This is not what I was expecting, and I begin to feel sick to my stomach. If I’ve pissed her off enough, will she refuse to see me for a while as a punishment? Oh, god. Please don’t let her do that.
“Mistress?” Yeah, my voice is wavering. I’m scared shitless.
“Get dressed and sit, Cassidy.”
She doesn’t look at me. I think that’s what hurts the most. I’m on autopilot, obeying her demand, and before I know it, I’m dressed. But I can’t bring myself to sit down.
“Please.”
I sink into the chair in front of her. At this point, I don’t think I have a choice. My legs feel like they may just buckle from under me.
“What’s with the mask?” Of all the questions that are going on in my head, that’s the one my mouth chooses to spew.
“This will be our last session, Cassidy.”
She says it so nonchalantly that I almost can’t fathom the reason my heart stops beating.
“What? Why? What did I do? If this is because I kissed your…”
“It’s not that,” she interrupts. Well good. I can’t undo that. So whatever else it is, I can fix it. Please let me be able to fix it. “The business I was called away for? I’m opening a new club. I’ll be going there to get it up and running.”
“No.” Eloquent. Yes, tell your Mistress no. Doms love that. “We—we just started. You told me you would teach me.” Fuck. I’m panicking. She can’t just leave me. There’s no way she doesn’t feel at least a fraction of what I feel with her.
“This is for the best, Cassidy.”
“For who? You? Am I that bad? You can’t tell me you didn’t get off on all of this!” I gesture angrily towards the bed where she definitely got off more than once. There’s no reaction from her. No flinch, nothing in her eyes change. Damn, she’s good.
“It’s normal for a Sub to get attached…”
“Don’t! Don’t fucking do that!” I stand, unable to stay seated one minute longer. I want to hit something. I want to beg her to stay. I want to go back to thirty minutes ago, and still be lying in bed with her. “I didn’t get attached to my Dom! It’s more than that. You know it.”
She looks at me finally. “I’m sorry.”
I actually believe her. But that doesn’t change anything. She’s still going. “Where?”
“What?”
“Where are you going? My job is flexible.”
“Cassidy, you can’t leave your home here.”
“I’m pretty sure I can do whatever I want. Except in this fucking room.” Her eyes drop, and for some reason that pisses me off even more. “Ah, I get it. It’s time for you to move on, right? What’s the matter, Mistress? Run out of conquests here? You successfully recruited me, and now you have to find more?”
I see the hurt flicker in her eyes before those fucking shutters come down in full force. Shit. Way to convince her to stay or let you go with her, Einstein. Insulting her is surely going to win her over. Then I think about her being with others like she was with me, and I can’t stop the scowl. I already have a resting bitch face. Get me pissed or scared, and it becomes worse. And right now, I’m both.
“You are welcome here at this club anytime you want.” Her voice is even, not betraying any emotions she may have. Maybe she doesn’t. Maybe this really was just a job for her. “But this room will be closed. Indefinitely.”
Indefinitely. She has no plans of ever coming back. God, how can my heart hurt this much for a woman I don’t even know? Not even a fucking name, and I’m dying before she even leaves. I drop to my knees, and do the only thing I can think of. I beg.
“Please, Mistress. Please don’t go. Please don’t leave me.”
She’s on her feet the moment my knees hit the floor. “Get up, Cassidy.” When I don’t budge, she grabs my shoulders. “Please get up. You don’t deserve this. Get off your knees.” She’s pulling at me almost desperately. “This world isn’t for you.”
“Have I not done everything you’ve asked of me?” I can feel the tears beginning to fall down my cheeks, and I don’t care. “I may have had some issues, but I got over them. All I want is to be…” No, no, no. Don’t say something to make her run even faster. “Is to be a good Sub for you.”
She kneels before me, and takes my face in her hands. “God, Cassidy, you are so much more than this. I’m leaving because it’s what’s healthiest. For both of us.” She wipes away my tears with her thumbs, but I can see her own tears forming behind the mask.
“I should have left you alone,” she whispers. Leaning in she gives me a feather of a kiss on my cheek before murmuring the words that will haunt me forever. “I was selfish, and I’m sorry. I’ll never forget you, Cassidy.”
I lose track of how long I stay there, sobbing, after she walks out of my life. I can’t understand how I became so attached to her so quickly. I don’t know how to forget her, and move on. I’m not sure I want to.
IT’S BEEN TWO months since Mistress walked away from me. Two long, agonizing months. Even Rand is becoming concerned with my unwillingness to “join the living again”. She has no clue what went on in that club. No one does. That time will always be the greatest—and worst—time in my life. And completely private. I won’t invite anyone into what Mistress and I shared.
It pisses me off that I don’t know her name. I can’t look her up. I have no idea where she went. Hell, she could be in another fucking country for all I know. All I have are my memories, and it still hurts. I haven’t been with anyone since. Believe me, I tried. But there was nothing there. No one has touched me—body or soul—the way she did. She fucking ruined me for anyone else, and that pisses me off, too.
Today I had decided to throw Rand a bone, and have lunch with her. It didn’t turn out great. She was being too nosey, asking me about what happened in “that club”. Yeah, it’s “that club” now. She and Connor have stopped going. Rand even threatened to go to the management and complain that they “broke” me. It was hard not to laugh at that. If she only knew that it was the actual owner that did the breaking.
Anyway, we weren’t on the greatest terms by the time lunch was over. I may have gotten a little bitchy, and told her to keep her big nose out of my business. Petty. Which is why I’m texting her now. Yes, it’s cowardly to text instead of call, but I’m just not up for more conversation with her.
I’m sorry. Maybe one day I’ll be able to explain everything to you. But for now, please just let me deal with my stuff on my own. You’re married now. You don’t need to worry about me anymore.
I finish typing out the last of the text, knowing that she’s just going to call me later to try and get the story out of me. That’s just Rand.
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