Mrs Vandermeer's Rules 11 free porn video

I woke up several times during the night, though not for long. Once to find my Mistress slipping back into the bed with me. I assumed she’d gotten up to go pee or maybe get a drink of water. I remember smiling sleepily and maybe mumbling something out loud, but that’s about it. The next time I’d felt something soft brushing my lips and awoke to a soft kiss. Hers and the, somewhat surprisingly, Mr. Vandermeer’s.

“Hi?” I whispered, blinking sleepily in confusion. Glancing at the window I could tell it was still dark out, although a bedside light kept the room softly illuminated.

“Need anything, baby?” I focused on her voice, groaning as I stretched my tired muscles. “I need to go?” The memory of her calling me her piss slut washed through me and must have shown on my face.

Mrs. V chuckled, running her fingers tenderly down my spine as she helped me to sit up.  “Would you like help going to the bathroom, Kitten?”

Kitten. Without thinking I reached up assuring myself that I was still wearing my collar. It felt comforting in a way that I can’t explain.  Or maybe I could and just wasn’t ready to, yet? I was still coming to terms with thinking of her as my Mistress. It felt like we’d taken a step forward yesterday, our relationship subtly changing. Or maybe not so subtly? My brain was too foggy to work it out just now.

“I…” I paused. I was about to tell her ‘no’. I knew where the bathroom was and I was perfectly capable of taking care of my needs by myself. But something stopped me. I looked over at her husband, who’d moved away, sitting up comfortably, watching me with curiosity. He was wearing a robe, tied at the waist.  What was under that I could only guess at. He offered me a smile, which I returned shyly.

“Yes?”

She laughed. “I am wondering if everything is going to be a question for a while.”

 I giggled nervously, wondering the same thing.  “Maybe?”

This time she just shook her head, her eyes crinkling with humor.

“Mistress, Miss Spencer. Get used to using my title when you address me. Is that clear?”

“Yes. Yes, Mistress,” I corrected myself, blushing at the way I felt as the word rolled off my tongue. It stirred up a wealth of feelings within me. Arousal, certainly. I couldn’t deny the effect it had on my pussy and my nipples. But it was more than that, though I couldn’t put a name on exactly what.

She took my hand, helping me out of bed and leading me down the hall to the bathroom. It took me a while to realize that I was naked. I laughed at that.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, and I told her.

“I didn’t even realize I wasn’t wearing anything until just now. I mean, in front of your husband and everything.”

That earned me a playful swat on the bottom. “Get used to it. Besides, you look good naked.”

“So do you. Mistress.” I was learning.

“Mmhm.” She gave me the slightest push into the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe, watching as I sat down on the toilet. Wondering that I would still be shy of having her watch me pee after everything, and yet, I was. Finally, though, my bladder co-operated and she led me back to the empty bedroom, Greg, apparently, somewhere else in the house.

“Let’s get you tucked in and back to sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a full day for you, kitten.”

I blushed, imagining what she had planned, not daring to ask her. Instead, I yawned, unable to help myself, and nodded, already feeling sleep creeping its way in.

“You’re not going to leave me,” I whispered, hoping against hope that she didn’t plan on joining her husband, wherever he was. I needed her to stay, although I didn’t tell her that. Still, I think she knew.

“I’ll be right next to you all night, baby.” Kissing me on the forehead, she settled in, spooning me, her arm around my waist. I could feel the warmth of her body against me, lulling me quickly back to sleep.

I awoke once more during the night, although it was more like early morning by then. I’d rolled over in my sleep. When, I had no idea, and was laying with my head on her chest, my cheek pressing against her soft breast. Without even thinking about it, I kissed her nipple and then sucked it tenderly into my mouth, suckling for a few minutes until she stirred, her arms going around me, almost protectively.

“Behave,” she murmured, kissing the top of my head.

“Yes, Mistress,” I mumbled, drifting off contentedly again.

o-O-o

The next time I awoke, I was alone and the morning light was hitting the window. I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes, feeling surprisingly refreshed. I wondered if I should stay put or get up and go see what my Mistress was up to.  My bladder made the decision easy for me. I had to pee. Remembering last night, I didn’t bother looking for anything to wear. I didn’t even bother to close the door to the bathroom. What was the point?  

Wondering if she’d left a note, I went back to the bedroom. When I didn’t find anything, I decided to explore while wondering what the day would bring. Abby had said the kids were with their grandparents, so I assumed she’d want to take advantage of that. And me. I replayed the events of the day before as I meandered down the hall, a little overwhelmed. Mr. V hadn’t fucked me, but he’d come on me and Abby had scooped up his cum off my tits and fed it to me. My first ever taste of a guy’s cum, and it had been her husband’s. Add cum slut to my list of titles, I thought with a giggle. Kind of a step down from piss slut, though. And where did pain slut fit in? Maybe I didn’t need the pre-fixes and I was just a slut. A slut for Mrs. Vandermeer, at least.

I smelled it first. Bacon frying. After that, I just followed my nose to the kitchen, my stomach waking up quickly, a different kind of hunger stirring in me. Quickening my pace, anxious for breakfast, I found myself standing in the doorway of the kitchen. My gaze went immediately to Mrs. Vandermeer, her back to me as she sat at the counter, wearing a dark red silk kimono. She was absorbed in drinking coffee while Greg was busy fixing breakfast. Bacon and eggs and toast, it looked like. My tummy rumbled again.

“Good morning, Mistress,” I said, announcing my presence and was rewarded with a bright and pleasant smile.

“Good morning, Kitten. I trust you slept well?”

“Yes, Mistress,” I responded, unsure of what to do next for a moment before getting hit by a bolt of inspiration.  “What can I do to help?”

“For now, sit,” she replied, patting the stool beside her. “Greg? Hand me a towel. I don’t want my slut making a mess.”

Blushing, I waited until she’d placed one of the kitchen towels down before taking a seat beside her, my gaze wandering over to the stove where it appeared like breakfast was approaching readiness.

“That looks yummy, Mr. V,” I said in a cheerful voice.

“Almost ready. As soon as Candy joins us, we can eat.”

“Candy?” I blurted out, eyes wide with surprise, the hunger in my stomach suddenly replaced with nervous butterflies. 

I was never good at hiding my emotions, especially from Mrs. Vandermeer. Chuckling, she leaned over and claimed me with a kiss. Not a soft peck on the cheek either. With one hand cupping the back of my head, her fingers laced into my dark hair, she pulled me close, her mouth on mine. Naturally, I didn’t fight her and opened my mouth for her as we engaged in a full-on, porn worthy kiss that left me breathless long before it was over. I didn’t even realize that I’d turned towards her and spread my legs until I felt her fingers brushing along the inside of one thigh, her nails leaving soft marks in my flesh as they grew closer and closer to my teenage pussy. It was a good think she’d set a towel down.

“Greg invited her over for breakfast. Thought it would be nice for you to meet in person. Oh, and she’s seen your video, pet. Only seemed fair.”

I digested that bit of information for a brief moment before getting lost in the sensation of my Mistress’s touch as she carefully slipped a finger into my slick pussy, forcing a shuddering moan from me.

“She’s been looking forward to meeting you ever since,” Greg added. “She said it might be nice to have a playmate.”

His word barely registered. All I could really concentrate on was Abby’s fingers as she slowly fucked me on the stool. Reaching out, I tried to undo the sash on her kimono, only to have her pull her head back, and withdraw her finger from my wet cunt, crisp blue eyes even with mine.

“Hands to yourself, Miss Spencer, unless I give you permission. Understood?”

“Yes, Mistress,” I nodded meekly, moving my hands away, resting them, palm down, on my thighs, unsure what else to do with them.

“Good girl,” she smiled, enticing me to smile back shyly. And then I felt her finger pressing between my cunt lips once more, claiming me, much to my delight.

I got lost, again, forgetting about Mr. V, about Candy, about everything but the look in my Mistress’s eyes, our gazes locked, as she continued to fuck me, at first with a single digit, and then with two. Unable to help myself, I began to pant and roll my hips until she simply stopped, and held them inside of me, letting me do all the work, her thumb pressing into my clit every time I rocked forward.

“What is the rule, Miss Spencer?” she asked.

Trembling as the need to come began to build in me, I replied, my voice shaking.

“No coming without permission, Mistress.”

She nodded, her smile cruel.

“Very good. Now, keep going. When Candy arrives, I might let you come for me. For us. But only if you beg for it. Understood?”

“Yes, Mistress,” I whimpered, moaning as she ran her nails up my arm, leaving light red scratches in my flesh, not sure which would be more humiliating. Coming in front of her husband and his pet, or begging to come, promising her anything she asked, just for the privilege of an orgasm. I guess I would soon find out.

The sound of the doorbell startled me, and I froze, my hips pushed forward so that I could feel Mrs. V’s hand pressed against me, her thumb pressing into my eager clit.

“I’ll get that,” Greg announced, drawing my attention for a brief moment, flushed with embarrassment that I’d forgotten he was even in the room, realizing I hadn’t noticed him putting out food and plates on the dining room table. I’d been too busy humping Abby’s hand.

Mrs. V just nodded and smiled, her eyes never leaving mine.

“That’ll be Candy. Probably. You never know.”

“Oh, god,” I breathed, aware that my entire body heaved with every lust-fueled breath I took, my tits especially, rising and falling with each quickening breath.

“Turn your head, slut. Face the doorway. I want your face to be the first thing she sees.”

“Yes, Mistress,” I moaned, obeying in a haze, a good idea of what she would see. Hazel eyes wide and foggy with lust, mouth hanging open, nostrils flared, cheeks burning with humiliation as I moaned like a whore for my Mistress.

She was pretty. I mean, I already knew that. First thing I noticed was she wore the same red leather collar I’d seen her in before. The one with the silver rings dangling from it.  This time she was dressed, at least for now, in a cute skirt that showed off her legs and a skimpy halter top, making her look like a typical college student enjoying the weekend.

“Hello, Candy.”

“Hello, Mrs. Vandermeer,” she replied, her voice soft. I detected a hint of nervousness which I related to.

“Candy, say hello to Shannon,” Mr. V told her. I detected a note of fond warmth in his voice. Obviously, he cared for her, much like Mrs. V cared for me.   

“Hello, Shannon. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Did I tell you to stop, Kitten?” Mistress asked. Her voice was soft but cruel. “Did my husband let you watch the video I took?”

This time, her attention was directed at me, her gaze appraising as I nervously resumed fucking Abby’s fingers, unable to hold back a moan as she teased my clit with the pad of her thumb while Candy watched, licking her lips sensuously – I think it was for my benefit – before answering.

“Yes, Ma’am. He let me keep it, too. I’ve made myself come, with permission of course, several times while watching.  She’s fucking hot.”

“Sit,” Greg told her when she started to kneel, obviously used to being subservient to him. “It’s a casual breakfast. This is all very new to Shannon. I am sure you remember how it was for you.”

Candy paused, as if surprised, finally nodding at him and then directing an understanding smile at me before pulling out a chair where she had a good view of the counter.  “It was scary at first. It still can be. You’ll get used to it, though. As much as you can, I guess.” The last bit was said with a shiver.

“Mistress?” I whispered, turning away from Mr. Vandermeer’s sub, my cheeks burning with shame. “I can’t… I need… to come. Please?”

“Speak up, Miss Spencer. Don’t be embarrassed.”

That only made it worse, but of course, that was the whole point.

“I need to come, Mistress,” I said louder. 

“And what do you say, Kitty?”

“Please, Mistress?” I moaned, my voice wobbling.

“Please?” she prompted me, kissing my nose fondly, a wry on her face.

I took a breath, closing my eyes as I fought my impending orgasm, picking out the words carefully before asking again.

“Please, Mistress Abby, will you allow me to come?”

“What are you?” She teased cruelly, pushing her fingers into my sopping wet pussy as she started fucking me again.

Searching my brain, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“A slut?”

“Whose slut? And what kind of slut?”

I was figuring it out as I went. Thankfully, she had a patient expression on her face.

“Your slut, Mistress. Your dirty little fuck slut,” I managed, gasping as she added another finger to my cunt, stretching my hole wider.

“What else?”

“Your nasty little piss slut.” She shoved her fingers in harder at the word ‘slut’.

“Your whore.”  Again, she accentuated the word ‘whore’ with her fingers, almost toppling me over the edge.

“And?”

“Your good girl?” I managed, stuttering as I felt my eyes trying to roll up into my head.

“Look at Candy, kitty. Open your eyes and look at her.”

Unable to speak, I did as she told me, my mouth open like a fish out of water, the noises I was making unintelligible as words.

“Now ask me.”

“M-m-mistress, pl-please may I c-come?”

“Go ahead and come, baby girl,” she told me, thrusting her fingers into me over and over and over. Locking gazes with Candy as I felt myself falling over the edge, my climax so intense that, when it was done, I simply slumped over the counter, breathing hard, unaware for several moments of anything.

Eventually, I recovered enough to sit up again, Abby’s command to do so breaking through my fog after several tries.

“And now, what do you say, Kitten?”

“Thank you, Mistress?”

“It’s not a question, slut.”

Swallowing, I tried again, not wanting to displease her, especially in front of Greg and Candy.

“Thank you for letting me come, Mistress,” I told her earnestly, earning a tender pat on the head, much like a well-behaved pet.

“Not perfect. We’ll have to work on it. For today, however, it will do. Now, let’s get you fed.”

As usual, I was off-balance, unsure of what to say or do. After all, it was one thing when I was alone with my Mistress – I felt comfortable, in a way. But being naked, being made to come in front of her husband and his very hot submissive? I was holding it together but that’s about it. Naturally, I looked to Abby for guidance and she, looking somewhat amused, took pity on me.

“Kneel beside me, pet. All you need to worry about, for now, is doing as I tell you. Nothing more. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Mistress,” I managed, doing my best to impress Mr. V and Candy with what a good girl I was and how well I obeyed Mrs. Vandermeer.  This was uncharted territory, but I somehow knew that making her look bad in front of others wouldn’t go over well, so I paid very close attention to everything she said and did and kept my mouth shut, except when taking food from her hand. Yes, she fed me little bite-sized morsels taken from her plate after which I’d lick her fingers clean. When I could, I watched Candy, trying not to make it too obvious. A large part of it was curiosity, but I won’t pretend that I didn’t wonder what it would be like to be with her. How would that even work? Would she be in charge like Mrs. V? I knew for certain that I could never dominate her, or anyone else. It just wasn’t in me. Or maybe it would be sweet and gentle, more like making love to a girlfriend or a lover, not that I really knew much about that. Mrs. Vandermeer would probably watch. Mr. V. too. I admit to being fascinated by the prospect.

When we were done, Mr. V asked Candy to help him clean up while I continued to kneel beside my Mistress.

“You’re curious, aren’t you?” Mrs. Vandermeer asked, her voice pitched low, so only I could hear her clearly.

“Mistress?” I answered, just as quietly, not quite understanding the question,

“Candy. You’re wondering what it would be like to be with her.”

Blushing, I nodded, glancing over, licking my lips as I admired her ass.  She wasn’t that much older than me, but enough that she had left behind the gawkiness of being a teen, something I hadn’t quite outgrown yet. I could only hope to be as pretty as she was one day…

“Is it that obvious, Mistress?” I responded, feeling my cheeks burning as she stroked my hair tenderly, content to let me stare at Mr. V’s pet for a while until the dishes were put away and the kitchen was clean.

“I imagine she is thinking the same thing. Maybe you’ll get your wish today.” And then, much louder.  “I’ll be in my office for a while. Come along, pet.”

She stood, smoothing down her kimono, giving me a moment to consider what would please her best before leaving the kitchen. When she did, I followed her on hands and knees, meekly, and yet with a strange sense of pride when I dared to glance back to discover that I was the focus of attention, my heart beating like crazy in anticipation. The last time I’d been in her office I’d been made to piss in a glass and drink it. Once, I would have been repulsed by the thought. Now? Now I was excited at the prospect and I found myself both craving and fearing whatever she had in mind for me.

It was just as I remembered. Bookshelves filled with more books than I could imagine reading. Pictures of her and Mr. V, of the kids, of friends and family. Some paintings on the walls, some I recognized as copies of famous paintings. Monet’s The Truth of Nature and Van Gogh’s Irises, as well as a two I didn’t recognize, but probably should have.

The carpet was thick and soft against my palms and knees. The drapes were pulled open, letting in the morning sunlight. Thankfully, the window looked out in the backyard. The thought of someone seeing me like this, her naked plaything, might have been too much for me. I wondered if I would balk at that or just accept it as the price to be paid for being Abby’s fuck toy. Other knickknacks decorated the room and there was a vase of daisies upon her elegant desk, alongside her laptop, several books, and some more photos.  My heart skipped a beat as I recognized one of them as a framed picture of me. Not just of me, but me naked except for a leather collar, legs spread obscenely, wrists and ankles cuffed and attached to bedposts. It would be obvious to anyone entering. Her husband of course. I wondered who else might have access to her inner sanctum. Candy? The mystery man who owned the house we often met at? One of her favorite students? While I knew that she was very careful about who knew about our relationship, that didn’t mean that no one knew. She laughed softly, aware of where my gaze had settled, perhaps even following my thoughts.

“That’s my favorite photo of you, baby. It’s a reminder of why I would risk so much for you. Don’t ever forget that.”

“Yes, Mistress,” I mumbled, swallowing, my gaze slowly moving from the photo to her face, her crisp blue eyes serious as she stared down at me.

“Am I worth it?” I wondered out loud, feeling suddenly overwhelmed. By this, by what had happened the night before, by her husband’s presence in the house, and Candy, and… by everything.

I thought she might be angry with me, or disappointed. Instead, she simply crouched down in front of my, her fingers beneath my chin as she gently titled my face up to meet her gaze, her smile reassuring.

“For better or worse, baby girl, you belong to me now and I have no regrets.” Leaning down, she kissed my tenderly, her mouth lingering on mine and full of promise. It left me breathless.

“Still,” she said quietly, her nose brushing mine, mouth so close I could feel every exhalation against mine, her eyes filling my vision. “I’m going to make you pay. Now, close your eyes and keep them closed until I say otherwise.”

Obediently I did as she told me, squeezing them closed, anxious not to try to cheat. The temptation was there, of course, especially as each second ticked by, becoming a minute, during which I could hear her moving around the room, arranging things, perhaps? The almost silent creak of a door as it was opened. Something being moved. My sense of hearing was heightened, or so it seemed. More sounds, most of which I could only guess at. Not a word from my Mistress, however. I did my best not to move a muscle, though it was impossible to stay completely still. I did keep my eyes closed, though. And I didn’t make a single sound. I wanted to be a good girl for her, after all. Her perfect girl. That was my goal and I did my best to achieve it.

At last, I felt her presence near me, hear her feet in the carpet beside me, letting out a quiet gasp of surprise at her touch on my shoulder.

“Very impressive, Miss Spencer. You may open them now.”

It was impossible not to notice the addition to Mrs. Vandermeer’s office. For one, it was directly in front of me, although it was on the other side of the room. In front of her bookcases there was now a sort of pommel horse, like the ones they used in gymnastics, only this didn’t have handles on it, and it was held up by four sturdy wooden legs. I couldn’t help but notice there were eye-bolts and rings attached to the legs in various places.

“A saddle stand with a few modifications. A gift from my husband.  He was more than happy to buy it once I told him it was for you.  I promised him he could use it once I’d broken it in.”

“Oh,” was all I could manage, shivering as my imagination began to run wild, much to my Mistress’s amusement. I felt a little dumb asking, but I did anyway. “You put saddles on it?”

“You can. Or you can put sluts on it. Why don’t you stand up, Shannon, and I’ll demonstrate.” 

She offered me her hand and I took it gratefully, feeling a little unsteady on my feet, unable to tear my gaze from the apparatus. It was pretty easy to guess how it was meant to be used.  She was going to tie, or chain, me over it and then? It was the ‘and then’ that worried me as well as making my pussy wet with anticipation.

I moved towards it, gripping her hand tightly, a little afraid to let go of. Too soon I was standing before it, my back to the door which, I realized nervously, she’d never closed. Not that I was going to suggest otherwise. Abby was never forgetful. Obviously, she wanted it open.

“Go ahead, Miss Spencer.”

Letting go of my hand, she took a step back. Licking my lips nervously, I gave her a quick glance before bending over, my stomach pressing into the padded leather hump.

“Good girl. Just relax while I make sure you’re secure.”

She lay a medium-sized metal box on the floor, purposefully placing it where I could see the contents:  metal clips, short lengths of chain, and padlocks. Then she placed a second box, this one containing four metal restraints, much like the leather cuffs she’d put on me before, each with a single metal ring attached.

“Wrist please.” Her voice was steady, almost as if she was asking one of her students to turn in an assignment. I didn’t keep her waiting. Whatever she had in mind, I didn’t want to make it any less pleasant then she already intended.

“Unlike the leather cuffs, these don’t buckle and they’re practically seamless. There’s  a screw, see this hole?  And a hex key.” The key looked a lot like an allen wrench, the kind that came with the Ikea bookshelves my dad had put in my room a few summers ago. She inserted the key and give it several twists so that it tightened snugly around my wrist.

“There. And the only way to remove it is with my key. Other wrist, please.”

She did the same to that, as well as to both of my ankles, using that same tone of voice the entire time. Not exactly cold, but somewhat detached.

“Now, to make sure you don’t get any ideas about escaping.”

I wondered if that was meant to be a joke? She wasn’t smiling when she said it, but if I’d learned anything about my Mistress, that didn’t mean anything. She guided my feet until my legs were spread wide and used padlocks to secure them to the bottom of the frame. Then she did the same with my wrists, leaving me hanging helplessly over the device, my ass and pussy on display, leaving me feeling quite vulnerable.

“One more thing.”

A length of chain was clipped to my leash and attached to a ring on the bottom of the padded hump, forcing me to stare between my thighs at the door out into the hallway.

“I’m going to change into something more appropriate,” she told me, letting a little warmth seep into her voice as she ran her fingers along my spine and between my ass cheeks, then slowly between my pussy lips until I let out a breathless moan. All I could do was watch, my thighs framing her as walked through the doorway, leaving the door wide open, much to my dismay. Not being able to do anything, my imagination soon began to run wild.

I had no idea how long she would be gone. Nor what her husband and Candy were doing. He probably had her tied to the bed so he could fuck her. I pictured it. Candy, spread-eagled like I was in the picture on Mrs. V’s desk, gasping and moaning, her skin shining with perspiration as he drove his cock hard into her gaping cunt, his fingers digging into her tits as she writhed and bucked beneath him, begging him to let her come. Maybe, if I listened carefully, if I could hear them. No matter how hard I tried all I could hear was my own labored breaths.

What was my Mistress doing? She said she was going to change. Into what? I pictured her in head to toe leather. A tightly laced corset forcing her tits up.  Stiletto boots that came up to her thighs. Black leather gloves encasing her arms to her biceps, looking both sexy and evil as she teased my cunt with the head of her crop, giving it a sharp slap that made me cry out, seemingly at random. Maybe she’d make me lick and suck on her heels, or maybe even fuck me with them…

Or latex, looking like a goddess, dressed in shiny black rubber from head to toe, wearing a rubber cock in a harness, using it to fuck me from behind, slamming up against my ass so hard it left bruises…

Or would she be dressed for class, looking crisp and trim and professional?  A tweed blazer over a white blouse. A matching skirt. Not so short that it was scandalous, but short enough to show off her legs. She’d have glasses on, of course, her hair in a bun, perhaps. Or just loose, framing her very serious face as she tapped the end of a thick wooden ruler against her thigh. She’d tell me that I’d been disruptive in class and needed to be disciplined…

Maybe Mr. Vandermeer would discover me while she was changing. I imagined him standing in the doorway, a smirk on his face. By this time, my pussy was so wet it was leaking. Positioned as I was, I could see a long string of pussy drool growing, suspended between my thighs. I was mortified and fascinated at the same time. He would see it too and know how turned on I was.

“Do you want me to fuck you, Shannon?” he’d ask, and I’d just moan, hoping he didn’t make me say it out loud. He’d know, of course. Or maybe he wouldn’t even care. After all, I couldn’t do anything to stop him. I’d be able to see his erect cock peeking out of his robe as he slowly walked up behind me.

“You want me to fuck your cunt or your ass?”

I noticed movement in the doorway before I could decide how I’d answer. This time it wasn’t my imagination playing with me. I felt my heart skip a beat as a voice interrupted my erotic reverie.  

“You look delicious.”

I felt my cheeks burning as Candy stepped into the room. She was breathtaking, wearing only a pair of blue lace panties and matching bra and, of course, the red leather collar, buckled snugly around her slender throat. She ran fingers through her lustrous blonde hair, never once taking her eyes off of me.

“Your Mistress asked me to look in on you. Keep you company.”

I thought about the first time I’d seen her video that Mrs. V had played for me. She’d been naked. I’d watched her sitting naked on a leather footstool, masturbating for the camera. I’d watched her come.  And then Abby had filmed me, sitting in the exact same place, doing the exact same thing. And shared it with her husband and his pet afterwards…

“So helpless, Kitty.”

I’d called myself ‘Kitty’ in the video. It had just come out, but it felt right. Just as I only knew her as Candy, she knew me as Kitty. I found myself holding my breath as she moved closer, a sensual sway in her slender hips that made me envious.  I wondered if it was something she’d learned or if it just came naturally. I always felt so awkward around Abby, not that she ever said anything.

“You have a nice bottom.”

By now she was so close that I couldn’t see her from the waist up. Just her bare legs and her panties. They were darker over her pussy. I smiled at that, wondering if she was as wet as I was. I hoped so. I really wanted to make her wet.

“Thank y-” I gasped, sucking my lips between my teeth as I felt the gentlest touch of fingernails on my ass. Closing my eyes, I concentrated on the sensation, focusing on just that, the excruciatingly slow journey of her fingertips over the swell of my bottom, moving slightly inward.

“No,” I whimpered as she broke contact, causing her to laugh softly. She had a delightful laugh, playful rather than cruel, raising goosebumps up and down my arms.

“No?” she asked, laughing again, repeating the process on the other cheek, until I let out a soft moan, at which she stopped, crouching down so that I could see her face framed between my spread thighs.

“I hear that your Mistress has a cruel streak, Kitty. She likes to hurt you. And you enjoy it. Is that true?”

I felt trapped. So did my heart. I could feel it pounding against my ribs, trying to escape. I’d never shared that side of me with anyone besides Mrs. Vandermeer. How could I? None of my friends would understand. I felt panic rising up in me as she kissed the back of my thigh, the tip of her tongue flickering,  lingering on my trembling flesh.

Watching, I opened my mouth, unable to form words, our gazes locking. Her smile was warm. Friendly, even. Not at all mocking or cruel. She kissed me again, tenderly then pursed her lips and blew, her cool breath feeling amazing against my swollen lips. I moaned, struggling helplessly against my bonds, trying to push my hips back against her mouth, wanting to feel her tongue on my pussy, desperate for more.

“Please,” I whispered, barely able to form the word. She laughed again, giving me another kiss on the thigh.

“Answer my question first. You enjoy it when she hurts you, Kitty?”

“Yes,” I mumbled, tears threatening at my confession. “I don’t know why. I don’t understand it. I just know I do.”

“It’s okay, Shannon,” she replied, reaching between my legs and cupping my cunt, a single finger stroking my swollen aching clit. “I don’t understand why I feel the way I feel either.  Why being tied up and as a slut turns me on like it does.  I don’t think it matters if I do. Just accept it.  It’s who you are.”

I wanted to say something back. Thank her, maybe. I’m not sure. All I could do was whimper, though, as she kept teasing my clit and running her fingers between my parted lips, the need within me building and building until I was on the verge of coming, only I couldn’t. She wouldn’t let me. Instead, she just kept me on the edge like that, torturing me. She was good at it and it felt glorious. I both hated and loved her for what she was doing to me.

“Maybe our owners will let us play together one day, Kitty. I’d like that. Would you?”

“Yes,” I hissed, writhing against the padded stand, the sound of metal against metal as I fought my bonds filling my ears. “I need to come. Please, please, please,” I begged as she relentlessly toyed with me until I wanted to scream.

“Your Mistress should be down soon,” Candy told me, sounding a little out of breath herself, her touch suddenly gone. “Maybe you should ask her.”

I groaned as she stood, swatting my ass playfully. “Maybe she’ll even let you.” 

She left me there, a wet, trembling, breathless mess, which is exactly how Mrs. Vandermeer found me a short time later.