Brenda Meets her Master
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Brenda Meets Her Master free porn video
“Wake up, sleepy head.”
After very little sleep, Brenda woke up groggy. She pulled Karen closer, loving the feel of her warmth, and not wanting to wake up. They normally slept naked together, but this week they’d worn t-shirts and shorts to bed every night. Brenda slid her hand under Karen’s shirt, wanting to feel her skin and the weight of her lover’s breasts.
Karen said, “Today’s the day. Wake up.”
Suddenly Brenda remembered what day it was. Why they weren’t sleeping naked together. Excitement mixed with nervousness--fear even--swirled through her stomach. Karen kissed her, a nervous/sweet smile on her face.
Today Brenda was getting on a plane. She didn’t know where she was going, not yet, but it was to meet Him. For the first time. He was the first person, male or female, she’d ever subbed to. They’d played games online for months, but this would be the first time she’d ever been the submissive in real life. In person. Where she couldn’t get away.
“Finally,” Karen said, “We get to open the boxes.” She was clearly excited, like it was Christmas. Brenda felt the same way, except Christmas didn’t usually have big spoonfuls of fear mixed in. Karen half-ran into their living room and brought back all of the boxes. There were seven of them, of all different sizes, each in plain, brown boxes. They were from him, of course, and they hadn’t been allowed to open any until today. Worse, they were all addressed to Karen, which annoyed Brenda. Karen texted him, asking if she could open the first box.
They both sat there in nervous excitement. Karen’s phone chimed, and they both jumped. Karen read his message, “Not yet. Take off all of your clothes, both of you.”
The sight of Karen’s skin, not to mention her lovely, round ass and nice, C-cup breasts reminded Brenda how horny she was. And had been. They hadn’t been allowed to have sex or come for ten days. It had been the longest ten days of her life.
As Brenda pulled off her t-shirt, Karen leaned over and took Brenda’s nipple into mouth. God, it felt good. Brenda pushed her away. “You just want to get me into trouble. Earn me a spanking before I even get there.”
Karen laughed. With a grand flourish, she texted him that they were both naked. He texted back almost instantly. She cleared her throat and read, “Open package number one. This one is for Karen.”
Karen clapped her hands, making a face at Brenda, telling her how she was the special one. Jealously spun through Brenda, setting her on edge. Karen found a pair of scissors and cut into the brown box labeled #1. She pulled out an object heavily wrapped in white tissue, then pulled the tissue off. An elaborate metal contraption sat before her. She didn’t know what it was.
Brenda did. She laughed, loving it. “It’s a chastity belt. For you.”
“No!”
Brenda laughed again. “Yes! The perfect gift for a spoiled brat like you.”
The phone chimed, scaring them both.
Brenda read the text, “I’m sure you're pleased with your gift. You have exactly three minutes to send me a picture of you in it.”
With a yelp, Karen dropped the metal belt like it burned her fingers and ran for the door. Knowing her, Brenda took a big step to cut her off and grabbed her arm, pulling her back. She smacked Karen hard on the ass twice, to get her attention. “Get back over here, now.” Karen wasn’t used to disobeying Brenda, especially when she used that tone. Meekly, she moved back to the bed and stood in front of Brenda.
Brenda quickly looked at the instructions, then pushed the main metal band between Karen’s legs, forcing her thighs further apart. The band, maybe an inch wide and lighter than it looked, fully covered Karen’s clit and pussy. Brenda could smell Karen’s excitement. She wanted nothing more than to move the metal band out of the way and bury her tongue deep into her girlfriend’s pussy. Instead, she wrapped the other two pieces around Karen’s waist--suddenly realizing why he’d asked for Karen’s measurements three weeks before--and pulled the pieces together above Karen’s stomach.
“It’s too tight,” Karen said, on the verge of tears.
“It’s perfect. Too tight to get your naughty fingers anywhere near your clit. It’s custom made, just for you.”
Brenda slid the lock into the clasp. She stood up and kissed Karen. Staring into her eyes, she pressed the lock closed. God, why haven’t I locked her pussy up before? The idea sent a wicked thrill through her whole body. “I think I’m going to be using this a lot on you.”
“No. I hate it.” That earned Karen two more smacks.
The phone chimed. “Oh crap,” Brenda said. She quickly picked up the phone and read, That’s a dozen with the crop for each of you. I will add a dozen for each additional minute that passes.
She quickly touched the picture app and took a picture of Karen’s locked up midsection, and another full picture of a sad-faced Karen. She looked like she was wearing armor, protecting her most valuable parts.
She quickly sent the pictures to him, hoping another minute hadn’t passed.
A text came back, Tell her she looks beautiful in it. It’s made my cock hard. Brenda kissed her and told her the message, but it didn’t make Karen any happier. The phone chimed again: You’ve both disappointed me. Put your noses in the corner, on your knees, until I text you again. Now.
Brenda hated the corner. Especially with no one watching. Still, she only wanted to please him. After reading the text to Karen, she led her lover to one corner of their bedroom, put her on her knees, then quickly moved to the other corner and got on her knees.
She put Karen in the corner all the time. The irony of it made her smile. Paybacks...
Finally, after a forever, the phone chimed and they were released. Brenda saw that twenty minutes had passed. It felt more like forty, and her knees were sore.
Karen pulled the first box open, searching frantically in it. She went through the white tissue wrapping, pulling and tearing it. “Where’s the key??”
Brenda laughed. “You’re stuck in there. Maybe he’ll send it back with me, on Monday. If you’re good.”
Karen threw the tissue at her. “It’s not funny. Your pussy isn’t locked up.”
Another chime interrupted their banter. This one told them it was time for package #2. This one was for Brenda. Her stomach was a swirl. The first two boxes were the same size. He wouldn’t send two chastity belts, would he? He’d asked for her measurements, too. This time, a shoe box came out of the bigger, brown box. Holding her breath, Brenda opened the box. A pair of five inch black stilettos. From Alain’s of Paris. Holy Crap.
Karen asked, “How much did those cost?”
“I have no idea.”
“It’s not fair. I get this,” she tapped a fingernail against the metal encasing her, “and you get the greatest shoes ever?” Brenda agreed, it didn’t seem fair. But she didn’t feel a bit of jealously anymore.
She tried them on. They fit wonderfully. She walked out of the bedroom, into the living room, and back. She looked at them in the mirror, liking her body and her long legs in them.
“Damn, you look good,” Karen said.
The phone chimed. The chime seemed to be connected to Brenda’s clit. Ever time, a little spasm went through her.
Karen read, “Do you like them?”
Before Brenda could answer, Karen typed in, “Yes, she loves them.”
Brenda said, “Tell him thank you.”
Karen said, as she was typing, “They’re a bit tight. They didn’t have them in blue?"
Brenda cried out, trying to grab the phone, and falling on Karen. Karen kept typing on the phone, saying out loud, "You couldn't afford Italian?" They wrestled as Karen laughed and giggled. Finally Brenda pulled the phone from her. Thank God. Karen hadn’t sent the text.
The phone chimed again, nearly causing Brenda to drop it. Time to pay for the shoes. Give the phone to Karen.
Uh-oh.
Karen took the phone back from her, smiling. The smile grew bigger, and more wicked, as she read the message. A shot of nervous energy hit Brenda’s already nervous stomach. Karen took her by the arm and led her to the foot of the bed. Karen’s gentle hands bent her over the metal footboard, pushing her down against the bed, then pulling her arms above her head and making sure her breasts were flat against the sheets. From behind, Karen’s fingers spread Brenda’s lips. “I want him to see how wet you are.” Brenda knew Karen was taking pictures of her pussy.
Another chime. Karen let out a little squeal. Brenda couldn’t even bear to ask what the text said. Her ass felt very exposed, and very high up in the air, in the heels. She watched Karen walk out of the room, wondering how the chastity belt felt to walk in. A moment later, Karen came back, heavy strap in hand.
Brenda loved the strap. Brenda hated the strap.
“Beg me,” Karen said. “Just like you make me.” Karen was about to get even for so many spankings.
Brenda hid her face, biting the bedspread. The strap cracked into her ass twice, taking her breath away. “Those don’t count, of course.”
“Of course,” Brenda whispered. That earned her two more. Something about her slave whipping her was turning her on immensely. She could feel her own wetness as the air moved across her pussy. “Please,” Brenda moaned.
“You can beg better than that.”
“Please. Mistress. Whip me. Pretty please.”
“Count them.”
The first one was wicked, low on her ass. So tender. And her endorphins hadn’t started flowing yet. Oh, it hurt.
“One... two... three... four... ” The sound of the wicked, heavy smacks filled the room, mixed in with Karen's heavy breathing and little grunts. The wicked crack of the strap and the pain it brought filled Brenda's mind. Her world shrunk down to nothing more than her ass, so high and vulnerable up in the air, and the tender, tender skin.
After six, Karen laid the strap on Brenda’s back, giving her a little break. Her small hands rubbed across Brenda’s already hot ass. A finger teased her pussy, then her asshole. “I should save a few for your pussy, like you do me.”
She was so close, after ten days of not coming, and the strap hitting just an inch or two from her wet pussy. She held her breath, the desire to please him, deep and wicked and something she didn’t understand, barely winning the battle.
“Please whip me,” she managed.
Karen chuckled. She tapped the strap against Brenda’s pussy once, then a second time. She heard a familiar whoosh, and felt it square across her ass. She cried out and almost lifted up, off the bed. Her knees and hips bucked, but then she held, pushing her ass back up high in the air, in her mind imagining it was him whipping her.
“Seven... eight... nine... ten...” The pain had arrived, now, with a few tears. Her body reacting, sweat covering her skin and running down her legs as her heart raced. She wondered how many he had ordered. And would Karen even stop at that point? Part of her knew she was getting what she deserved. What she wanted.
“Eleven... twelve... thirteen... fourteen... fifteen..." Most of those low on her ass, where it transitioned to her thighs. So tender. More tears.
"Sixteen... seventeen... eighteen... nineteen... twenty...” It was more than tears now; she cried. Her ass felt on fire, the strap bringing her skin to a boil. She could barely keep her ass up, exposing her tender flesh to more and more punishment. But she did.
Karen tapped the strap against her pussy again. Brenda couldn’t help it, she spread her legs wider, wanting it.
Karen chuckled. “Such a naughty girl, wanting me to see your pussy. Naughty, naughty.” Brenda wondered if she sounded as trite, as cruel, when she said those kind of things. Karen said, “Enough of putting that naughty pussy on display. Close your legs tight.”
Brenda closed her eyes, knowing what was coming.
“Twenty-one... twenty-two... twenty-three... twenty-four... twenty-five...” All across the backs of her thighs, hard. It hurt. So tender. Through the crying, her count was barely a mumble.
“Arch higher. Please him.” She heard Karen pick up her phone. Knew she was taking pictures of her whipped ass. Wondered if she was done.
She wasn’t.
“Almost there, baby,” Karen said, her voice tender. Brenda felt her lover’s lips brush across her ass, kissing them. “So hot. I bet they’re tender. You won’t enjoy sitting on the plane.”
Brenda could only moan.
Then the sweet lips were gone from her ass. She knew what was coming next. She arched up, wanting it.
“Twenty-six... twenty-seven... twenty-eight... twenty-nine... thirty...” She expected them to stop, then. She couldn’t take another ten. Thirty-one surprised her. There was a long pause.
Karen said, “Don’t make me give you extras. Count.”
“Thirty-one.” Counting one had to mean another was coming.
Karen didn’t let up. He wouldn’t want that. Thirty-two was wicked, low and mean. She cried out, then remembered to count. “Thirty-two.” She was sputtering now, her nose running, crying hard.
Thirty-three was a bit higher, but still hurt. She wondered what her ass looked like. “Thirty-three.” She lifted up, ready. Instead, she felt Karen’s lips again.
“Is that all?” she asked, scared of the answer.
“For now, my sweet.”
She started to go down to her knees, but Karen smacked her on the ass. It took her breath away. “Stay up. I need a picture, first.”
Crying, she held her ass up. Karen turned her head sideways, taking a picture of her tears, too.
The phone chimed. Karen read out loud, “Good girl. Do you think he means me or you?”
Another chime. “While she’s still submissive, open box #3.”
Karen quickly grabbed the box and ripped it open. She held a red, rubber bag in front of Brenda.
“What is that?” Brenda asked. Did she really want to know?
“An enema bag. For your ass. But first, you have to spend some more time in the corner. No rubbing.”
Karen helped her up, squeezing her ass as she kissed her. He was right, the thirty-three had taken the fight out of her. Karen put her in the corner, back on her knees. At least this time, someone would be watching her. And her red, red ass.
*
On her knees, her head down on the cold, white tile floor, Brenda reached back and spread her cheeks. She tried to do this as gently as possible, but still it made her gasp.
“Wider,” Karen said.
Brenda vowed to get even. To make Karen wear the belt for a month. While she came three times a day, on Karen’s tongue. To give her an enema every day for a month.
The nozzle pushed into Brenda’s ass. She closed her eyes as the warm, soapy water filled her up.
“I wonder why he’s having me clean your ass. You don’t think he’s going to put anything up there, do you?”
Feeling as if she was going to burst, Brenda said, “Please, it’s too much.”
“Almost baby. He said a full bag, each time.”
Each time?
“You don’t think he’s going to stick his cock in your ass, do you?” Karen’s voice had a wicked, gleeful tone to it. Brenda had fucked Karen’s ass with everything known to man. Or woman. But Brenda’s had never had a cock in it. And the rumor was, his was a big cock. “Then he really will own you. I wished I could watch that. Hopefully he’ll whip your ass hard first, like you do me.”
Finally the bag was empty.
“Five minutes,” Karen announced. Brenda closed her eyes. It was going to be a long five minutes.
Karen sat on the toilet seat and put her feet up on Brenda’s raised ass. “I could get used to this being-in-charge stuff.”
Two months in the chastity belt. And the strap every day. The thought of revenge felt very sweet. Until she considered that she was on her face and knees, her ass high, her girlfriend’s feet resting comfortably on her back. And that she wasn’t really in charge anymore. He was. It scared her, deep in her core. It scared her more, how much she wanted it, and wanted to please him.
*
After two more bags went in and then out of her ass, he was finally satisfied. Karen helped her to the shower, then bathed her, slowly and gently from head to toe. She had fun washing her pussy, brushing the cloth up and down and up and down. It felt so good. Brenda spread her legs wider and Karen stopped, trying to hide her wicked smile.
Showing no concern for Brenda’s whipped ass, Karen sat her on the edge of the tub and washed her hair. Despite her sore ass, Brenda loved the feel of Karen’s hands in her hair. With the hard spanking having taken down so many of her walls, Brenda enjoyed every minute of it--being close to Karen, the feel of the water, being taken care of. Being pampered and primped for him.
Once her hair was rinsed, it was time for Box #4. Two nice razors. The first was for her legs. Karen took her time, telling Brenda she wanted her to be perfect for him. Karen had done this before, but the whole mood was different. She wasn’t ordering Karen to tend to her this time, he was. The difference was subtle, mostly in Karen’s attitude. Telling Brenda to turn this way and that. Not asking. Not waiting. Sometimes with a tap on her ass to hurry her along. Karen checked every inch of her legs, touching them up here and there. Then she picked up the second razor.
It was for her pussy. Once again, Karen ordered Brenda to sit on edge of the tub and spread her legs. As gently as she could, Brenda sat. It still brought fresh tears to her eyes. Karen kneeled down between her lover's legs, then lathered up Brenda’s pussy. God, her fingers felt good. Keeping a fingertip against her clit, she slowly shaved each inch. Brenda didn’t want to look down. She normally kept Karen shaved bare while she had a nice landing strip. A sign of who was above who. That was gone. He wanted her shaved and bare. Wanted her to know who controlled her pussy.
Karen was enjoying it a bit much for Brenda’s liking, but every time she got a look at Karen’s chastity belt, it made her feel much better. After rinsing off the cream, Karen very softly made sure there wasn’t any stubble with her tongue. Then she kissed her clit, swollen from all the energy running through her body. “Be careful,” Brenda whispered. Karen licked it, then gave her a wicked smile.
“Time for Box #5!”
Box #5 was nail polish. Expensive nail polish, in dark, dark blue. Brenda sat on the edge of the tub again as Karen first removed the red polish from her toenails and then started to paint them. God, she wanted to pull her head into her lap and have her lick and lick. Why did she need him? Why did she have this almost unbearable need to submit to him? The nervous energy that coursed from her stomach to her pussy and back told her why. What scared her also excited her. Madly. The thought of him, his touch, his cock, even his voice, drove her wild. What would he smell like?
Next were her fingernails. Once they were done, Karen took pics of her fingers and toes. Apparently he approved, because it was time for a little make up and then to get dressed.
Pulling out two bags from a closet, Karen showed her what she’d be wearing. “We picked it out together,” she said, meaning her and him. A dark gray skirt with pinstripes, and a white, button up blouse. No panties, of course. No bra. Karen helped her into the skirt, then cut the tags off. It fit. Short but not wildly so. Karen buttoned up the shirt, then pressed it against her chest.
“As long as your nips aren’t hard, you’ll be fine.” Karen laughed. Like when were her little nipples not hard? After slipping back into her new shoes, Brenda walked in front of the mirror, liking the way she looked. Liking the idea of him dressing her. Owning everything she was wearing. Owning her.
Karen looked at the clock. “It’s almost time.” She rushed to dress herself, then came back to the living room.
“Time for #6.” Karen opened it. A paddle. Like a ping-pong paddle, but made of thicker wood, and with holes in it. She asked, “Is he going to have me paddle you with it, or do you have to take it with you for him?” She texted him, to find out.
“Sorry, babe,” is all Karen said, with a sad look on her face. “Put your elbows on the coffee table.”
Nervous, Brenda did, feeling the skirt scrape across her ass. She wasn’t sure she could take many more and still sit on the plane. Hell, she wasn't sure she could take many more at all, plane or no plane.
Trying to be gentle, Karen inched up the up the tight skirt. “We need to hurry.”
She wasn't ready for the first one. The paddle felt like it tore off a huge band-aid off of her left cheek. Crying out, she lifted up, only Karen's hand stopping her from standing up all the way. That would have meant extras. Another cracked into her left cheek. Her hands gripped the edge of the coffee table, her body trembling, but she held on. Two, three and four followed. God, she would never make it.
Make it to what? she wondered. "How many," she managed, through the tears.
"Twenty-five."
Oh God, I'll never make that.
Perhaps sensing this, Karen went fast--whack, whack, whack--on each cheek. They weren't even that hard, but after the strap, it hurt. Sitting on the plane was not going to be fun. The whacks continued, the poor, tortured skin of her ass getting hotter and hotter.
Karen turned her head and wiped away the tears with her hand, then kissed her. "That's all, baby. You made it." Brenda couldn't believe it was over. Karen helped her up, then took her in the bathroom to fix her makeup.
Then it was time. “Box #7 goes with you.” It was a small box, and fit easily in her purse. And that was all she was taking. No suitcase, no overnight bag, not even a shoulder bag.
Karen took her hand and led her out the door.
*
Karen drove. Brenda tried to get comfortable in her seat. It didn’t happen. And every time she looked over at Karen, the wench had a sweet, little smile on her face. Brenda reached over and tapped between Karen’s legs, against the metal belt there. “Well at least I know I’ll be having more fun than you this weekend.”
Even that didn’t wipe the smile from Karen’s face.
Suddenly they were at the airport. Karen pulled out a boarding pass and handed it to Brenda. “You’re going to Vegas!”
That exited her and scared her. There were a lot fewer rules in Vegas.
An airport cop was waving at them, so Karen quickly kissed Brenda. She held her tight. “I love you, babe.”
“I love you.”
They kissed again. “Be good,” Brenda whispered. Then, on shaky legs, she climbed out of the car.
*
As she was standing in line at the Security gate, she felt her phone chime in her purse.
When you’re thru security, text me.
Yes, sir, she texted back.
Ten minutes later, she texted him again.
Find the nearest restroom, go into a stall, and open the last box.
Yes, sir.
With nervous hands, she struggled with opening the box. Finally the tape gave. A tiny tube of lube fell out and hit the white tile below her. She picked it up. She dug in the box, and pulled out one object wrapped in white tissue paper. She unwrapped it.
Oh shit.
It was a collar. Narrow and leather, with studs. And a little lock on the back. At least she hoped it was the back. She didn’t think it was a dog collar, but anyone that took a look at it would know exactly what it was. She searched the box. The other object in it was a bright blue plug for her ass, but like the chastity belt, there was no key to the collar.
The phone chimed. She almost dropped everything.
The text read, Tick, tick, tick.
She decided the plug would be better first. At least she could pull that out. After pulling up her skirt, she coated a finger, then slid it deep into her ass. The plug seemed to get bigger and bigger the longer she stared at it. She reached back, spread her tender, tender cheeks as best she could, and pushed against her asshole. It wasn’t going to fit.
She closed her eyes and breathed in deep. For him. It had to fit. She tried to relax, but it was no use. She applied more lube, using most of the tube, then pressed it against her ass. It pushed in with a loud plop. It felt huge in her ass.
He expects me to keep this in the whole flight? Even as she thought it, she knew she’d be doing it. Even enjoying the discomfort, pleasing him.
She stared at the collar. It was suddenly all too real. There would be no backing out after this. It was everything she wanted. A stern master. Paraded in public. Pleasing a man. All things she’d fantasized about so much, but now, really happening, it terrified her. She put it around her throat, moving it up and down, wondering if she was going to do it or not. She was sweating again. She never sweated.
Like they had a mind of their own, her fingers pushed the lock closed, the click loud and impossibles. Her breath stuck in her throat, she wondered what just happened. Testing the lock, she knew it wasn't coming off. It was suddenly a brave, new world. She breathed in deep.
Now both her and Karen were under his control. He had the keys to both of them. Pleasing him was the only hope of getting them back.
Another chime. He was getting impatient. She took a picture of her neck, trying to smile for him. Then pulled one cheek aside and took a picture of her ass. Not a good picture--she couldn’t see the plug. She tried again, getting it this time. She sent off the pics.
His quick text back made her happy: Good girl. My cock’s hard again.
Very carefully, she stood up and straightened her skirt. She stepped out of the stall, feeling the plug move inside her with every step. She checked herself in the mirror. No one could tell a thing--not her sore, red ass, not her perfectly shaved pussy, and not the plug filling her ass. Except for the collar, of course.
In the mirror, she almost didn’t recognize herself.
She found the gate with fifteen minutes to spare. It was a crowded flight--a Friday flight to Vegas--and an attractive, older man offered her his seat near the gate.
“No thank you.” I’d rather not sit down at the moment.
A few minutes later, they called out her row. With shaking hands, she handed the woman her boarding pass, then walked down the tunnel to the plane. She kept thinking, I can still turn back. We can find someone to cut off this collar. And Karen’s chastity belt. I don’t have to go.
At the door to the plane, she hesitated. Last chance. Fuck, she was nervous. She closed her eyes. She wanted to run. Knew this was crazy. She was a Dom. She liked women, for Christ sakes. Loved them. Why was she flying to Vegas to be a man’s pet?? That was too tame, actually. Flying to Vegas to be a man’s sex slave. His toy. She reached up and touched the collar at her neck.
As if someone else was controlling her body, she stepped onto the plane.
*
They really don’t pad these seats well anymore. Cheap bastards. That was Brenda’s main thought for most of the flight. She tried watching a movie on the small screen in front of her, but it was no use. Her mind wandered and wandered. What if they met and he didn’t like her? If she wasn’t attractive enough? Or what if the bastard just doesn’t show up? He seemed as nervous about it as she did, now that she thought about it. Or maybe that was her imagination.
It was an endless flight, her mind sprinting in tight, tight circles, her gut upset. She had one drink, all that he allowed, and could have used a few more. She held up her hand and watched it shake. What the fuck am I doing?
“Ladies and Gentlemen, we’ve begun our decent into McCarran International Airport. Please make sure your...”
Oh Christ.
From there, things went much too fast.
Once the plane touched down, she found her phone in her purse and took it off of airplane mode. No texts from him. What the fuck? Has he chickened out? Karen sent one sweet one, telling her she missed her already.
Faster than it ever happens, they were at the gate, and she was walking up the gangway. Her heart was beating 90 miles an hour. Still no text. Bastard. By the time she walked past the gate, she was angry. I’m going to get a ticket on the next flight back home. Fuck this.
Part of her noticed a man in a gray suit waiting for the next flight. Something about him seemed familiar. Still angry, she brushed that aside, her eyes down, intense.
She had to step around a woman with a young, crying child, then a couple hugging. That really annoyed her. She turned, deciding to find a bathroom and pull the damn, painful plug out--
“Hello, my pet.”
She stopped cold. The man in the gray suit had said the words. Every ounce of anger drained out of her, replaced by fear twice as intense.
He smiled at her. It was a good smile. Her heart clutched.
He was taller than he seemed in pictures. A rough edge or two gone. And the suit--she could tell it was pricey. As pricey as her shoes. But it was definitely him. Suddenly he went from make-believe and two dimensional to all too real.
For a moment, she considered running. Sprinting away.
His hand reached out and touched the back of her hand. The simplest of gestures. It broke through everything she was thinking. She met his eyes. The pictures hadn’t shown the intensity there. She tried for a smile.
“Hi,” she said. Her voice was way too high.
“Hi,” he said back.
He took her hand in his, intertwining their fingers. Ignoring all the people moving around them, a whole airport walking past, he lifted her chin and kissed her. Her heart melted.
He pulled her close, hugging her tight, as if he couldn’t believe they were finally together either. More than her ass or her pussy or her body was at risk here. He knew her deepest, darkest desires. Knew things about her that no one else knew.
Her hand on his shoulder, she looked into his eyes. His beautiful, green eyes. Wondered what they saw in her eyes. She shrugged, what the hell.
She reached up and kissed him, wanting to taste him again, wanting to be his.
After very little sleep, Brenda woke up groggy. She pulled Karen closer, loving the feel of her warmth, and not wanting to wake up. They normally slept naked together, but this week they’d worn t-shirts and shorts to bed every night. Brenda slid her hand under Karen’s shirt, wanting to feel her skin and the weight of her lover’s breasts.
Karen said, “Today’s the day. Wake up.”
Suddenly Brenda remembered what day it was. Why they weren’t sleeping naked together. Excitement mixed with nervousness--fear even--swirled through her stomach. Karen kissed her, a nervous/sweet smile on her face.
Today Brenda was getting on a plane. She didn’t know where she was going, not yet, but it was to meet Him. For the first time. He was the first person, male or female, she’d ever subbed to. They’d played games online for months, but this would be the first time she’d ever been the submissive in real life. In person. Where she couldn’t get away.
“Finally,” Karen said, “We get to open the boxes.” She was clearly excited, like it was Christmas. Brenda felt the same way, except Christmas didn’t usually have big spoonfuls of fear mixed in. Karen half-ran into their living room and brought back all of the boxes. There were seven of them, of all different sizes, each in plain, brown boxes. They were from him, of course, and they hadn’t been allowed to open any until today. Worse, they were all addressed to Karen, which annoyed Brenda. Karen texted him, asking if she could open the first box.
They both sat there in nervous excitement. Karen’s phone chimed, and they both jumped. Karen read his message, “Not yet. Take off all of your clothes, both of you.”
The sight of Karen’s skin, not to mention her lovely, round ass and nice, C-cup breasts reminded Brenda how horny she was. And had been. They hadn’t been allowed to have sex or come for ten days. It had been the longest ten days of her life.
As Brenda pulled off her t-shirt, Karen leaned over and took Brenda’s nipple into mouth. God, it felt good. Brenda pushed her away. “You just want to get me into trouble. Earn me a spanking before I even get there.”
Karen laughed. With a grand flourish, she texted him that they were both naked. He texted back almost instantly. She cleared her throat and read, “Open package number one. This one is for Karen.”
Karen clapped her hands, making a face at Brenda, telling her how she was the special one. Jealously spun through Brenda, setting her on edge. Karen found a pair of scissors and cut into the brown box labeled #1. She pulled out an object heavily wrapped in white tissue, then pulled the tissue off. An elaborate metal contraption sat before her. She didn’t know what it was.
Brenda did. She laughed, loving it. “It’s a chastity belt. For you.”
“No!”
Brenda laughed again. “Yes! The perfect gift for a spoiled brat like you.”
The phone chimed, scaring them both.
Brenda read the text, “I’m sure you're pleased with your gift. You have exactly three minutes to send me a picture of you in it.”
With a yelp, Karen dropped the metal belt like it burned her fingers and ran for the door. Knowing her, Brenda took a big step to cut her off and grabbed her arm, pulling her back. She smacked Karen hard on the ass twice, to get her attention. “Get back over here, now.” Karen wasn’t used to disobeying Brenda, especially when she used that tone. Meekly, she moved back to the bed and stood in front of Brenda.
Brenda quickly looked at the instructions, then pushed the main metal band between Karen’s legs, forcing her thighs further apart. The band, maybe an inch wide and lighter than it looked, fully covered Karen’s clit and pussy. Brenda could smell Karen’s excitement. She wanted nothing more than to move the metal band out of the way and bury her tongue deep into her girlfriend’s pussy. Instead, she wrapped the other two pieces around Karen’s waist--suddenly realizing why he’d asked for Karen’s measurements three weeks before--and pulled the pieces together above Karen’s stomach.
“It’s too tight,” Karen said, on the verge of tears.
“It’s perfect. Too tight to get your naughty fingers anywhere near your clit. It’s custom made, just for you.”
Brenda slid the lock into the clasp. She stood up and kissed Karen. Staring into her eyes, she pressed the lock closed. God, why haven’t I locked her pussy up before? The idea sent a wicked thrill through her whole body. “I think I’m going to be using this a lot on you.”
“No. I hate it.” That earned Karen two more smacks.
The phone chimed. “Oh crap,” Brenda said. She quickly picked up the phone and read, That’s a dozen with the crop for each of you. I will add a dozen for each additional minute that passes.
She quickly touched the picture app and took a picture of Karen’s locked up midsection, and another full picture of a sad-faced Karen. She looked like she was wearing armor, protecting her most valuable parts.
She quickly sent the pictures to him, hoping another minute hadn’t passed.
A text came back, Tell her she looks beautiful in it. It’s made my cock hard. Brenda kissed her and told her the message, but it didn’t make Karen any happier. The phone chimed again: You’ve both disappointed me. Put your noses in the corner, on your knees, until I text you again. Now.
Brenda hated the corner. Especially with no one watching. Still, she only wanted to please him. After reading the text to Karen, she led her lover to one corner of their bedroom, put her on her knees, then quickly moved to the other corner and got on her knees.
She put Karen in the corner all the time. The irony of it made her smile. Paybacks...
Finally, after a forever, the phone chimed and they were released. Brenda saw that twenty minutes had passed. It felt more like forty, and her knees were sore.
Karen pulled the first box open, searching frantically in it. She went through the white tissue wrapping, pulling and tearing it. “Where’s the key??”
Brenda laughed. “You’re stuck in there. Maybe he’ll send it back with me, on Monday. If you’re good.”
Karen threw the tissue at her. “It’s not funny. Your pussy isn’t locked up.”
Another chime interrupted their banter. This one told them it was time for package #2. This one was for Brenda. Her stomach was a swirl. The first two boxes were the same size. He wouldn’t send two chastity belts, would he? He’d asked for her measurements, too. This time, a shoe box came out of the bigger, brown box. Holding her breath, Brenda opened the box. A pair of five inch black stilettos. From Alain’s of Paris. Holy Crap.
Karen asked, “How much did those cost?”
“I have no idea.”
“It’s not fair. I get this,” she tapped a fingernail against the metal encasing her, “and you get the greatest shoes ever?” Brenda agreed, it didn’t seem fair. But she didn’t feel a bit of jealously anymore.
She tried them on. They fit wonderfully. She walked out of the bedroom, into the living room, and back. She looked at them in the mirror, liking her body and her long legs in them.
“Damn, you look good,” Karen said.
The phone chimed. The chime seemed to be connected to Brenda’s clit. Ever time, a little spasm went through her.
Karen read, “Do you like them?”
Before Brenda could answer, Karen typed in, “Yes, she loves them.”
Brenda said, “Tell him thank you.”
Karen said, as she was typing, “They’re a bit tight. They didn’t have them in blue?"
Brenda cried out, trying to grab the phone, and falling on Karen. Karen kept typing on the phone, saying out loud, "You couldn't afford Italian?" They wrestled as Karen laughed and giggled. Finally Brenda pulled the phone from her. Thank God. Karen hadn’t sent the text.
The phone chimed again, nearly causing Brenda to drop it. Time to pay for the shoes. Give the phone to Karen.
Uh-oh.
Karen took the phone back from her, smiling. The smile grew bigger, and more wicked, as she read the message. A shot of nervous energy hit Brenda’s already nervous stomach. Karen took her by the arm and led her to the foot of the bed. Karen’s gentle hands bent her over the metal footboard, pushing her down against the bed, then pulling her arms above her head and making sure her breasts were flat against the sheets. From behind, Karen’s fingers spread Brenda’s lips. “I want him to see how wet you are.” Brenda knew Karen was taking pictures of her pussy.
Another chime. Karen let out a little squeal. Brenda couldn’t even bear to ask what the text said. Her ass felt very exposed, and very high up in the air, in the heels. She watched Karen walk out of the room, wondering how the chastity belt felt to walk in. A moment later, Karen came back, heavy strap in hand.
Brenda loved the strap. Brenda hated the strap.
“Beg me,” Karen said. “Just like you make me.” Karen was about to get even for so many spankings.
Brenda hid her face, biting the bedspread. The strap cracked into her ass twice, taking her breath away. “Those don’t count, of course.”
“Of course,” Brenda whispered. That earned her two more. Something about her slave whipping her was turning her on immensely. She could feel her own wetness as the air moved across her pussy. “Please,” Brenda moaned.
“You can beg better than that.”
“Please. Mistress. Whip me. Pretty please.”
“Count them.”
The first one was wicked, low on her ass. So tender. And her endorphins hadn’t started flowing yet. Oh, it hurt.
“One... two... three... four... ” The sound of the wicked, heavy smacks filled the room, mixed in with Karen's heavy breathing and little grunts. The wicked crack of the strap and the pain it brought filled Brenda's mind. Her world shrunk down to nothing more than her ass, so high and vulnerable up in the air, and the tender, tender skin.
After six, Karen laid the strap on Brenda’s back, giving her a little break. Her small hands rubbed across Brenda’s already hot ass. A finger teased her pussy, then her asshole. “I should save a few for your pussy, like you do me.”
She was so close, after ten days of not coming, and the strap hitting just an inch or two from her wet pussy. She held her breath, the desire to please him, deep and wicked and something she didn’t understand, barely winning the battle.
“Please whip me,” she managed.
Karen chuckled. She tapped the strap against Brenda’s pussy once, then a second time. She heard a familiar whoosh, and felt it square across her ass. She cried out and almost lifted up, off the bed. Her knees and hips bucked, but then she held, pushing her ass back up high in the air, in her mind imagining it was him whipping her.
“Seven... eight... nine... ten...” The pain had arrived, now, with a few tears. Her body reacting, sweat covering her skin and running down her legs as her heart raced. She wondered how many he had ordered. And would Karen even stop at that point? Part of her knew she was getting what she deserved. What she wanted.
“Eleven... twelve... thirteen... fourteen... fifteen..." Most of those low on her ass, where it transitioned to her thighs. So tender. More tears.
"Sixteen... seventeen... eighteen... nineteen... twenty...” It was more than tears now; she cried. Her ass felt on fire, the strap bringing her skin to a boil. She could barely keep her ass up, exposing her tender flesh to more and more punishment. But she did.
Karen tapped the strap against her pussy again. Brenda couldn’t help it, she spread her legs wider, wanting it.
Karen chuckled. “Such a naughty girl, wanting me to see your pussy. Naughty, naughty.” Brenda wondered if she sounded as trite, as cruel, when she said those kind of things. Karen said, “Enough of putting that naughty pussy on display. Close your legs tight.”
Brenda closed her eyes, knowing what was coming.
“Twenty-one... twenty-two... twenty-three... twenty-four... twenty-five...” All across the backs of her thighs, hard. It hurt. So tender. Through the crying, her count was barely a mumble.
“Arch higher. Please him.” She heard Karen pick up her phone. Knew she was taking pictures of her whipped ass. Wondered if she was done.
She wasn’t.
“Almost there, baby,” Karen said, her voice tender. Brenda felt her lover’s lips brush across her ass, kissing them. “So hot. I bet they’re tender. You won’t enjoy sitting on the plane.”
Brenda could only moan.
Then the sweet lips were gone from her ass. She knew what was coming next. She arched up, wanting it.
“Twenty-six... twenty-seven... twenty-eight... twenty-nine... thirty...” She expected them to stop, then. She couldn’t take another ten. Thirty-one surprised her. There was a long pause.
Karen said, “Don’t make me give you extras. Count.”
“Thirty-one.” Counting one had to mean another was coming.
Karen didn’t let up. He wouldn’t want that. Thirty-two was wicked, low and mean. She cried out, then remembered to count. “Thirty-two.” She was sputtering now, her nose running, crying hard.
Thirty-three was a bit higher, but still hurt. She wondered what her ass looked like. “Thirty-three.” She lifted up, ready. Instead, she felt Karen’s lips again.
“Is that all?” she asked, scared of the answer.
“For now, my sweet.”
She started to go down to her knees, but Karen smacked her on the ass. It took her breath away. “Stay up. I need a picture, first.”
Crying, she held her ass up. Karen turned her head sideways, taking a picture of her tears, too.
The phone chimed. Karen read out loud, “Good girl. Do you think he means me or you?”
Another chime. “While she’s still submissive, open box #3.”
Karen quickly grabbed the box and ripped it open. She held a red, rubber bag in front of Brenda.
“What is that?” Brenda asked. Did she really want to know?
“An enema bag. For your ass. But first, you have to spend some more time in the corner. No rubbing.”
Karen helped her up, squeezing her ass as she kissed her. He was right, the thirty-three had taken the fight out of her. Karen put her in the corner, back on her knees. At least this time, someone would be watching her. And her red, red ass.
*
On her knees, her head down on the cold, white tile floor, Brenda reached back and spread her cheeks. She tried to do this as gently as possible, but still it made her gasp.
“Wider,” Karen said.
Brenda vowed to get even. To make Karen wear the belt for a month. While she came three times a day, on Karen’s tongue. To give her an enema every day for a month.
The nozzle pushed into Brenda’s ass. She closed her eyes as the warm, soapy water filled her up.
“I wonder why he’s having me clean your ass. You don’t think he’s going to put anything up there, do you?”
Feeling as if she was going to burst, Brenda said, “Please, it’s too much.”
“Almost baby. He said a full bag, each time.”
Each time?
“You don’t think he’s going to stick his cock in your ass, do you?” Karen’s voice had a wicked, gleeful tone to it. Brenda had fucked Karen’s ass with everything known to man. Or woman. But Brenda’s had never had a cock in it. And the rumor was, his was a big cock. “Then he really will own you. I wished I could watch that. Hopefully he’ll whip your ass hard first, like you do me.”
Finally the bag was empty.
“Five minutes,” Karen announced. Brenda closed her eyes. It was going to be a long five minutes.
Karen sat on the toilet seat and put her feet up on Brenda’s raised ass. “I could get used to this being-in-charge stuff.”
Two months in the chastity belt. And the strap every day. The thought of revenge felt very sweet. Until she considered that she was on her face and knees, her ass high, her girlfriend’s feet resting comfortably on her back. And that she wasn’t really in charge anymore. He was. It scared her, deep in her core. It scared her more, how much she wanted it, and wanted to please him.
*
After two more bags went in and then out of her ass, he was finally satisfied. Karen helped her to the shower, then bathed her, slowly and gently from head to toe. She had fun washing her pussy, brushing the cloth up and down and up and down. It felt so good. Brenda spread her legs wider and Karen stopped, trying to hide her wicked smile.
Showing no concern for Brenda’s whipped ass, Karen sat her on the edge of the tub and washed her hair. Despite her sore ass, Brenda loved the feel of Karen’s hands in her hair. With the hard spanking having taken down so many of her walls, Brenda enjoyed every minute of it--being close to Karen, the feel of the water, being taken care of. Being pampered and primped for him.
Once her hair was rinsed, it was time for Box #4. Two nice razors. The first was for her legs. Karen took her time, telling Brenda she wanted her to be perfect for him. Karen had done this before, but the whole mood was different. She wasn’t ordering Karen to tend to her this time, he was. The difference was subtle, mostly in Karen’s attitude. Telling Brenda to turn this way and that. Not asking. Not waiting. Sometimes with a tap on her ass to hurry her along. Karen checked every inch of her legs, touching them up here and there. Then she picked up the second razor.
It was for her pussy. Once again, Karen ordered Brenda to sit on edge of the tub and spread her legs. As gently as she could, Brenda sat. It still brought fresh tears to her eyes. Karen kneeled down between her lover's legs, then lathered up Brenda’s pussy. God, her fingers felt good. Keeping a fingertip against her clit, she slowly shaved each inch. Brenda didn’t want to look down. She normally kept Karen shaved bare while she had a nice landing strip. A sign of who was above who. That was gone. He wanted her shaved and bare. Wanted her to know who controlled her pussy.
Karen was enjoying it a bit much for Brenda’s liking, but every time she got a look at Karen’s chastity belt, it made her feel much better. After rinsing off the cream, Karen very softly made sure there wasn’t any stubble with her tongue. Then she kissed her clit, swollen from all the energy running through her body. “Be careful,” Brenda whispered. Karen licked it, then gave her a wicked smile.
“Time for Box #5!”
Box #5 was nail polish. Expensive nail polish, in dark, dark blue. Brenda sat on the edge of the tub again as Karen first removed the red polish from her toenails and then started to paint them. God, she wanted to pull her head into her lap and have her lick and lick. Why did she need him? Why did she have this almost unbearable need to submit to him? The nervous energy that coursed from her stomach to her pussy and back told her why. What scared her also excited her. Madly. The thought of him, his touch, his cock, even his voice, drove her wild. What would he smell like?
Next were her fingernails. Once they were done, Karen took pics of her fingers and toes. Apparently he approved, because it was time for a little make up and then to get dressed.
Pulling out two bags from a closet, Karen showed her what she’d be wearing. “We picked it out together,” she said, meaning her and him. A dark gray skirt with pinstripes, and a white, button up blouse. No panties, of course. No bra. Karen helped her into the skirt, then cut the tags off. It fit. Short but not wildly so. Karen buttoned up the shirt, then pressed it against her chest.
“As long as your nips aren’t hard, you’ll be fine.” Karen laughed. Like when were her little nipples not hard? After slipping back into her new shoes, Brenda walked in front of the mirror, liking the way she looked. Liking the idea of him dressing her. Owning everything she was wearing. Owning her.
Karen looked at the clock. “It’s almost time.” She rushed to dress herself, then came back to the living room.
“Time for #6.” Karen opened it. A paddle. Like a ping-pong paddle, but made of thicker wood, and with holes in it. She asked, “Is he going to have me paddle you with it, or do you have to take it with you for him?” She texted him, to find out.
“Sorry, babe,” is all Karen said, with a sad look on her face. “Put your elbows on the coffee table.”
Nervous, Brenda did, feeling the skirt scrape across her ass. She wasn’t sure she could take many more and still sit on the plane. Hell, she wasn't sure she could take many more at all, plane or no plane.
Trying to be gentle, Karen inched up the up the tight skirt. “We need to hurry.”
She wasn't ready for the first one. The paddle felt like it tore off a huge band-aid off of her left cheek. Crying out, she lifted up, only Karen's hand stopping her from standing up all the way. That would have meant extras. Another cracked into her left cheek. Her hands gripped the edge of the coffee table, her body trembling, but she held on. Two, three and four followed. God, she would never make it.
Make it to what? she wondered. "How many," she managed, through the tears.
"Twenty-five."
Oh God, I'll never make that.
Perhaps sensing this, Karen went fast--whack, whack, whack--on each cheek. They weren't even that hard, but after the strap, it hurt. Sitting on the plane was not going to be fun. The whacks continued, the poor, tortured skin of her ass getting hotter and hotter.
Karen turned her head and wiped away the tears with her hand, then kissed her. "That's all, baby. You made it." Brenda couldn't believe it was over. Karen helped her up, then took her in the bathroom to fix her makeup.
Then it was time. “Box #7 goes with you.” It was a small box, and fit easily in her purse. And that was all she was taking. No suitcase, no overnight bag, not even a shoulder bag.
Karen took her hand and led her out the door.
*
Karen drove. Brenda tried to get comfortable in her seat. It didn’t happen. And every time she looked over at Karen, the wench had a sweet, little smile on her face. Brenda reached over and tapped between Karen’s legs, against the metal belt there. “Well at least I know I’ll be having more fun than you this weekend.”
Even that didn’t wipe the smile from Karen’s face.
Suddenly they were at the airport. Karen pulled out a boarding pass and handed it to Brenda. “You’re going to Vegas!”
That exited her and scared her. There were a lot fewer rules in Vegas.
An airport cop was waving at them, so Karen quickly kissed Brenda. She held her tight. “I love you, babe.”
“I love you.”
They kissed again. “Be good,” Brenda whispered. Then, on shaky legs, she climbed out of the car.
*
As she was standing in line at the Security gate, she felt her phone chime in her purse.
When you’re thru security, text me.
Yes, sir, she texted back.
Ten minutes later, she texted him again.
Find the nearest restroom, go into a stall, and open the last box.
Yes, sir.
With nervous hands, she struggled with opening the box. Finally the tape gave. A tiny tube of lube fell out and hit the white tile below her. She picked it up. She dug in the box, and pulled out one object wrapped in white tissue paper. She unwrapped it.
Oh shit.
It was a collar. Narrow and leather, with studs. And a little lock on the back. At least she hoped it was the back. She didn’t think it was a dog collar, but anyone that took a look at it would know exactly what it was. She searched the box. The other object in it was a bright blue plug for her ass, but like the chastity belt, there was no key to the collar.
The phone chimed. She almost dropped everything.
The text read, Tick, tick, tick.
She decided the plug would be better first. At least she could pull that out. After pulling up her skirt, she coated a finger, then slid it deep into her ass. The plug seemed to get bigger and bigger the longer she stared at it. She reached back, spread her tender, tender cheeks as best she could, and pushed against her asshole. It wasn’t going to fit.
She closed her eyes and breathed in deep. For him. It had to fit. She tried to relax, but it was no use. She applied more lube, using most of the tube, then pressed it against her ass. It pushed in with a loud plop. It felt huge in her ass.
He expects me to keep this in the whole flight? Even as she thought it, she knew she’d be doing it. Even enjoying the discomfort, pleasing him.
She stared at the collar. It was suddenly all too real. There would be no backing out after this. It was everything she wanted. A stern master. Paraded in public. Pleasing a man. All things she’d fantasized about so much, but now, really happening, it terrified her. She put it around her throat, moving it up and down, wondering if she was going to do it or not. She was sweating again. She never sweated.
Like they had a mind of their own, her fingers pushed the lock closed, the click loud and impossibles. Her breath stuck in her throat, she wondered what just happened. Testing the lock, she knew it wasn't coming off. It was suddenly a brave, new world. She breathed in deep.
Now both her and Karen were under his control. He had the keys to both of them. Pleasing him was the only hope of getting them back.
Another chime. He was getting impatient. She took a picture of her neck, trying to smile for him. Then pulled one cheek aside and took a picture of her ass. Not a good picture--she couldn’t see the plug. She tried again, getting it this time. She sent off the pics.
His quick text back made her happy: Good girl. My cock’s hard again.
Very carefully, she stood up and straightened her skirt. She stepped out of the stall, feeling the plug move inside her with every step. She checked herself in the mirror. No one could tell a thing--not her sore, red ass, not her perfectly shaved pussy, and not the plug filling her ass. Except for the collar, of course.
In the mirror, she almost didn’t recognize herself.
She found the gate with fifteen minutes to spare. It was a crowded flight--a Friday flight to Vegas--and an attractive, older man offered her his seat near the gate.
“No thank you.” I’d rather not sit down at the moment.
A few minutes later, they called out her row. With shaking hands, she handed the woman her boarding pass, then walked down the tunnel to the plane. She kept thinking, I can still turn back. We can find someone to cut off this collar. And Karen’s chastity belt. I don’t have to go.
At the door to the plane, she hesitated. Last chance. Fuck, she was nervous. She closed her eyes. She wanted to run. Knew this was crazy. She was a Dom. She liked women, for Christ sakes. Loved them. Why was she flying to Vegas to be a man’s pet?? That was too tame, actually. Flying to Vegas to be a man’s sex slave. His toy. She reached up and touched the collar at her neck.
As if someone else was controlling her body, she stepped onto the plane.
*
They really don’t pad these seats well anymore. Cheap bastards. That was Brenda’s main thought for most of the flight. She tried watching a movie on the small screen in front of her, but it was no use. Her mind wandered and wandered. What if they met and he didn’t like her? If she wasn’t attractive enough? Or what if the bastard just doesn’t show up? He seemed as nervous about it as she did, now that she thought about it. Or maybe that was her imagination.
It was an endless flight, her mind sprinting in tight, tight circles, her gut upset. She had one drink, all that he allowed, and could have used a few more. She held up her hand and watched it shake. What the fuck am I doing?
“Ladies and Gentlemen, we’ve begun our decent into McCarran International Airport. Please make sure your...”
Oh Christ.
From there, things went much too fast.
Once the plane touched down, she found her phone in her purse and took it off of airplane mode. No texts from him. What the fuck? Has he chickened out? Karen sent one sweet one, telling her she missed her already.
Faster than it ever happens, they were at the gate, and she was walking up the gangway. Her heart was beating 90 miles an hour. Still no text. Bastard. By the time she walked past the gate, she was angry. I’m going to get a ticket on the next flight back home. Fuck this.
Part of her noticed a man in a gray suit waiting for the next flight. Something about him seemed familiar. Still angry, she brushed that aside, her eyes down, intense.
She had to step around a woman with a young, crying child, then a couple hugging. That really annoyed her. She turned, deciding to find a bathroom and pull the damn, painful plug out--
“Hello, my pet.”
She stopped cold. The man in the gray suit had said the words. Every ounce of anger drained out of her, replaced by fear twice as intense.
He smiled at her. It was a good smile. Her heart clutched.
He was taller than he seemed in pictures. A rough edge or two gone. And the suit--she could tell it was pricey. As pricey as her shoes. But it was definitely him. Suddenly he went from make-believe and two dimensional to all too real.
For a moment, she considered running. Sprinting away.
His hand reached out and touched the back of her hand. The simplest of gestures. It broke through everything she was thinking. She met his eyes. The pictures hadn’t shown the intensity there. She tried for a smile.
“Hi,” she said. Her voice was way too high.
“Hi,” he said back.
He took her hand in his, intertwining their fingers. Ignoring all the people moving around them, a whole airport walking past, he lifted her chin and kissed her. Her heart melted.
He pulled her close, hugging her tight, as if he couldn’t believe they were finally together either. More than her ass or her pussy or her body was at risk here. He knew her deepest, darkest desires. Knew things about her that no one else knew.
Her hand on his shoulder, she looked into his eyes. His beautiful, green eyes. Wondered what they saw in her eyes. She shrugged, what the hell.
She reached up and kissed him, wanting to taste him again, wanting to be his.
Jane
- 08.08.2020
- 21
- 0
- Category:
- BDSM
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