الأربعاء، 5 يونيو 2013

Diary of a mistress

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Contrition-Part Three

My nipple hurts and I think I might cry, I am about to beg her to stop when she suddenly lets go, I sag into the seat with a groan. I can still feel the pain from her fingers. She drinks some more wine and I pull at the cuffs when she isn’t looking but there is no give. She strolls across in front of me and she trips slightly; it’s obvious that shes had more than the one glass. I look at her as she watches me but I can’t hold eye contact, I’m scared to speak but I have to try to convince her to release me.

“Please,” I start but her eyes bore into mine and she casually places her glass on the floor. As she squats her short dress rides up revealing the tops of her stockings and I find myself staring at her long legs, I wonder if she is doing it by design but suddenly she is upon me and clamps her hand over my mouth. I can’t breath and struggle to free myself but she grips harder, I try but I can’t talk and she warns me to stay quiet. I believe she is going to kill me and she thrusts her hand into my top to again grip my breast, this time roughly and I try to plead with my eyes, I manage to get some air through my nose just as she touches my sore nipple. my nipple aches and it is hard, I think it must be through fear, I refuse to believe it could be for any other reason. She holds me there for a minute then as suddenly as she started she stops

“So, Miss Davidson, or may I call you Darby?” she asks. frightened of angering her I nod dumbly and she steps back.

She carries on speaking but the words don’t entirely register, I am desperately trying to remember who she is so I can understand what she wants, I want to ask her but I’m too scared to speak now. I hear the words ‘contrition’ and ‘Atonement’ and realise that she imagines I have slighted her in some way. she moves out of my sight and returns seconds later, the clicking of her heels sound so ominous, she is idly swinging a riding crop from her fingers. She is so calm and in control, both mentally and physically.

“Oh God no please,” I beg when I see the crop and realize the implications, but she just smiles, she is obviously enjoying this and that makes me more afraid. Then she pulls her other hand from behind her back and producers the gun again, she points it at my face and I feel myself on the verge of panic, she pulls the trigger and I scream.

I scream as she laughs, cold water strikes my face and she squirts more over my head and chest.She continues until the water pistol is empty and she laughs uncontrollably, I thought I was going to die and my tears mix with the water on my wet cheeks, it was a cruel prank and it has almost broken my spirit but her laughter serves to give me a little resolve and I force myself to stop crying. When she eventually stops giggling she tosses the fake gun into the corner, and with a flick of her wrist the crop stings my breast.

I yelp in shock and pain and I look down at myself, I am still wearing my shirt, but some of the buttons are missing and the soaked fabric is plastered to my breasts, my breasts that are clearly visible beneath the almost transparent material. The next strike again takes me by surprise, this time my other breast burns with pain. I cringe and try to turn away but she takes her time, casually flicking with the crop as she circles me, I never know when or where the crop will strike; it appears that my breasts are her main target but my arms,legs shoulders, even my stomach aren’t spared. I try to be brave, I don’t want to cry again but the crop hurts and even though I know she isn’t hitting me hard I can’t stand it. But the worst thing is the feeling of complete helplessness, the knowledge that she can do whatever she wants and I can’t do a thing to stop her.

It is too much and I start to blub, each strike forces me to beg and plead but through my sobs I’m sure nothing intelligible comes out, I feel ashamed that I have been defeated so quickly, but I have never in my life had to endure pain, I’m not prepared.

“Please, please, stop, I’m sorry, I’m sorry if I hurt you, I’ll do whatever you want, please stop,” I beg between sobs, at last she takes pity and stops hitting me, my head is hanging down and I can see only her feet but she puts the tip of the crop under my chin and lifts my head to face her. Her hips sway from side to side as she moves forward and sits astride my thighs, with her hands resting on my shoulders and the crop held behind my neck. Again I can’t hold her gaze and lower my eyes, her forehead rests against mine and for a brief moment I think she is going to kiss me, but her lips stop an inch from mine and she whispers very quietly.

“Oh yes Darby you will, and much much more, who knows you may even like it, I know I will.”

Her breath is hot on my lips and I imagine I can taste the wine she has been drinking. She holds that position for a minute and with my eyes downcast I can see her nipples poking through the material of her dress, and further down her spread thighs have caused the dress to ride up almost to her hips; the smooth white skin of her thighs framed by her hold up stockings and black lace panties pulled tight over her pussy, I’m not sure but I think I can see dampness where the panties pass over her lips. I am all too aware of the closeness of her mouth to mine and I let out a small whimper.

The moment ends when she springs to her feet as if she has just thought of something, I can feel my face burn from embarrassment, did she know how I was looking at her body? could she tell what I was thinking, no surely not. She tosses the crop onto the table and picks up a large pair of scissors, standing with one hand on her hip she clicks the scissors a few times in front of my eyes.

“As much as I love the wet look I think you would look even better naked.” she says.

leatherfemdom: Would love to know who this lady is.



leatherfemdom:

Would love to know who this lady is.

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Contrition-Part Two

A new story co-written by myself and Graymangazer. We take turns with the writing- this is my part….


Miss 'high and mighty' didn't even recognise me!  She ruined my life; sitting there complacently at her computer, dealing with units and establishments rather than real people. To her, all I ever was, was a press of a button and a problem dealt with.  Fury rose in me like the fury I had felt twice before thanks to her. The arrogance of this bitch made me livid.  This time, however I determined to keep myself under control. I can't ever remember who said what clever quote but the person who remarked that revenge is a dish best served cold clearly had me in mind.

She winced and cringed gratifyingly as I tweaked that sweet little pink nipple. Her plea was honey to me, sweet to savour. I could unexpectedly feel myself dewing along my pussy. A delicious thrill ran through me as she whimpered and I could feel my own nipples erect in sympathy with hers.

The wine was delicious. My every sense was enhanced and alive. I could almost see the pulse racing at her delicate, pale throat. I watch her like a stalking cat watches an injured bird. She snatches glimpses up at me, in between dropping her gaze, frightened. She pulls surreptitiously at the cuffs. Good luck with that, I think smirking. Those cuffs are strong enough to hold my regular partner and he is far stronger that this fearful mouse.

'Please…' she begins again and wordlessly I out my glass down on the floor and clamp my hand forcefully across her quivering lips. She gurgles and squirms, tears coming to her eyes.

'Quiet' I hiss, my full red lips close to her well made ear, so close that the air stirs unkempt strands of that sweet red hair. I wonder if she's red down between her thighs too. I smile at the thought. There will be time enough to discover that in the coming minutes, hours and days.

Her lips move beneath my palm and I tut and sigh. I press harder and she stills.

'I don't want to hear anything from you Miss Darby Davidson' I tell her, my voice cold and brisk. She tries to move her head, eyes swivelling to look up at me, a most delicious blue. The pupils are dilated and so attractive. Her whole demeanour excites me more than I ever expected it would. In the beginning all I ever wanted was an explanation, an apology, some dignity. Quite when this became a sexual thing eludes me. Perhaps it was during the weeks of stalking, following, mapping out her life and waiting for the opportunity to get her alone. Suddenly though, she was in my fantasies and I had her image in my mind when I climaxed as I touched myself.

I slide my free hand back down that ruined blouse and push the bra aside roughly, enjoying the muffled squeal she makes as my fingers seek her little button of a nipple. I stroke it, small and hard. She knows what is coming and the tension unnerves her. I wait, building it. My fingers circle that delicious bud, my mouth watering as I imagine slipping it between my teeth and nibbling it.

But……time waits for no man, as they say. And very few women either no doubt. I remove both my fingers from her nipple and my palm from her mouth.

'So, Miss Davidson' I begin 'or, may I call you Darby?'

She nods, unsure, desperate not to anger me. I smirk.

'So, Darby….'

I step back, hands on hips and head cocked to one side, a little tipsy with the wine and the sudden power over this woman. She's older than me, around forty I would say, maybe a little older, but well preserved, slim and well groomed. I regard her appraisingly.

'So, Darby' I continue finally 'we have a problem'

My words are ominous and she recognises that. She begins to shake her head and I put a manicured forefinger to her pink lips, momentarily overcome with a mental image of her pussy lips and my finger there.

'I need something from you'

Her eyes are confused but already she knows better than to speak. I look forward to using a variety of gags on her, but I know that they will be just for my pleasure. She will be quiet when I command it.

'Contrition?' I ask, almost to myself.

Her eyes are wide and desperate and pleading.

And so sexy.

'Atonement?'

I pick up the riding crop that lies hitherto unnoticed on the table in the darkened corner of the room with other instruments of incarceration and punishment.

'What do you think, Darby?'

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Thanks for your sexy submission Madeleine! xoxo

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I haven't forgotten...

If anyone was wondering what had happened to my story ‘I am Sadia’s smirking revenge’ I have it on the back burner and will return to it in due course….


Sadia x

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