This is a story of domination and submission. It contains watersports.
Thank you to Bob_Aganoush for his review and suggestion of a sequel.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, merchandise, companies, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are 18 years or older when in sexual situations.
Mistress Helene was in a particularly foul mood. She had been working with Grace for over two years and had settled into a very pleasant D/s relationship with her [ed. note: see “Mistress Helene and Grace” for the backstory on how they met]. Grace’s rough edges as a butch lesbian were rounded off under Helene’s tutelage, and all of her friends agreed that Grace was the best sub she had ever had. Helene was in full agreement with their assessment, and even had thoughts of a longer term relationship with the young ebony haired beauty. But that was not to be. Grace had been transferred by her employer to the other side of the county, and it had been over two weeks since she’d left. Grace’s departure, needless to say, left a yawning gap in Helene’s life.
The tall curvy blonde was eyeing a large pile of laundry, a pile Grace would have tackled with aplomb, eagerly washing, folding and ironing their clothes. That chore now fell to her, and she hated to do the laundry. She made enough money to pay a full-time maid, in fact an army of maids, but her lifestyle wouldn’t allow it. Helene had long ago started jealously guarding her privacy, and having a regular maid poking around her house just wouldn’t do. There were times after sessions with her subs where harnesses with dildos, vibrators and butt plugs were casually scattered throughout the house. No, Helene and her subs would maintain the interior of the large estate, with only an occasional contractor coming in to help.
Reminding herself once again why she couldn’t have a maid, the seasoned Domme was just getting ready to sort the clothes into piles when her phone rang, signaling welcome relief from this mundane chore.
“Hello?” the blonde haired Domme answered, her fingers absentmindedly twirling the long straight locks between her fingers.
“Helene? This is Keisha. Do you remember me from the Club?”
There was a pause as Helene searched her memory. Keisha … Keisha … oh yes … it was at least a couple months ago that she was introduced to Keisha and her sub at a Club event. Helene had thought little of the interaction, other than to note that her sub seemed to be young and pretty. “I wonder what she wants?” the tall elegant blonde wondered.
“Yes. I believe we were introduced a few months ago.”
“That’s right. Through our mutual friend Eloise. You’ve got a good memory.”
“What can I do for you?”
“Unfortunately I need to have back surgery. I have a slipped disc, and the operation needs to happen soon. I’ve arranged to have my sister come and stay with me to manage my recovery. She’s a registered nurse.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your back, but glad to hear you’ve got support.”
“Well, my sister doesn’t know about my sexual proclivities. She doesn’t know that I’m a lesbian and that I have a sub living with me. I may be laid up for a few months, so I’m going to have to find a new home for my sub. I heard about Grace’s transfer, and was wondering if you might be willing to take her?”
Helene’s interest was piqued. The call couldn’t have come at a better time.
“Tell me about her.”
“Her name is Miranda, but I call her Mandy. She’s 24, just a couple years out of college. She’s working as a fitness instructor and is living with me and learning to be a sub. I hate to give her up.”
Helene was of the mindset “nothing ventured, nothing gained.”
There was a slight pause before Keisha formed her response. “If you like her, how about we then work out the terms of compensation?”
Helene, giving no thought to the outcomes, responded quickly. “Sure, we can work that out later if there seems to be a fit. How about we set up an interview at my house? Maybe this Friday at 7 p.m.?”
“I’m pretty sure I have your address. She’ll be there at 7.”
Helene went back to sorting laundry, her mood improved as she at least saw light at the end of the tunnel. Grace had basically fallen into her lap, and it was such a pain to locate and train a new sub. She made a mental note to call Eloise and ask about Keisha.
The next morning Helene went about her usual business, tending her clients as a financial advisor at a well-known brokerage house. Midway through the morning she remembered that she was to give Eloise a call. Thankfully she had a 15 minute gap in her schedule. She rolled her chair towards her door to call out to her assistant, whose desk was located right outside her office.
“Jim, can you see if you can locate Eloise Havenhurst? I’d like to talk to her.”
Helene rolled her chair behind her desk and attended to paperwork until Eloise was located. A few minutes later her line buzzed.
“Eloise on line 2”
Helene hit line 2. “Hi Eloise.”
“It’s been a while. I’m sorry to hear about Grace. I can’t believe how much fun we had with her and how much she enjoyed the humiliation and the sex.”
“Tell me about it. She was a gift.”
“So what’s up?”
“Keisha gave me a call.”
There was a pause. “So she told you about her back surgery?”
“And she offered you Mandy.”
“Take her,” Eloise said emphatically.
Helene’s spirits were lifted. “I like what you’re saying. Tell me why.”
“She’s kind of the opposite of Grace. She’s naturally submissive and very feminine. But like Grace she’s very young and beautiful.”
“Sounds like my kind of girl. I’m supposed to interview her this Friday.”
“Helene, I’ve known you and your collection of subs over the past ten years. I’m pretty sure this is a good fit.”
“I owe you one,” the blonde said gratefully.
“Maybe a drink sometime. Let me know how it goes.”
The conversation continued with a discussion of their respective careers, Eloise being a successful commercial real estate broker. They also discussed the Club, and Eloise’s current sub, Nikki, who was about three months into her training. Eloise was having difficulties with Nikki’s anal training and solicited a few bits of advice from her more experienced friend.
That night Helene thought about the Friday interview, which was only two days away. She hadn’t had sex in the two weeks since Grace departed and was feeling particularly randy. She sat in her soaking tub, the hot water opening her pores and draining away the stress of the day. Her hand wandered between her legs, rubbing her sex as her mind started dreaming about her new sub. She would teach her the art of making love to a woman. She would teach her to love pain and humiliation. She would invite her friends over and they would use her new sub in every way they could imagine. Her fingers moved deftly over her pussy, parting her lips and letting the warm water wash inside her, increasing her already overheated desire. She used her other hand to manipulate her anus, massaging the tight ring of muscle that guarded her back channel. The combination of the hot bath and the skillful fingers brought Helene to a gut wrenching orgasm, her body thrashing in the tub, splashing water over the sides, as she mentally pictured the sub worshipping her pussy.
Helene spent much of the rest of the time between then and Friday night trying to stay busy, keeping her mind off of her new sub, trying to avoid the endless cycle of speculation and anxiety. Finally, the work day on Friday ended early and it was back on the train to her home in the suburbs. Helene gazed out the window, watching the grayish black tones of the gritty underbelly of New York City pass through her view, but seeing her faceless sub kneeling between her legs.
It was Friday night at 6:58 p.m. There was a failing light outside as the last vestiges of the day’s sunshine disappeared. Helene stood in her living room, footing tapping nervously, periodically peering out the large living room window to witness the arrival of her new sub. She was wondering what she would look like. She was so used to Grace’s hardened looks that to have a feminine presence in her house would be an interesting change. While she was musing there was a faint knock at her door. She looked at her watch. It was precisely 7:00 p.m.
Helene flipped on the outside light and expectantly opened her front door as the cold night air rushed in. There was nothing at eye level but an instant later she saw the sub, kneeling and nude, her clothes carefully folded next to her, on the frigid concrete porch. The outside light that she had turned on illuminated the entire porch area, so the sub’s naked body was exposed to neighbors and passersby. Helene saw first the top of her head, long curly auburn locks trailing down her back, her head slightly bowed. She was kneeling, her legs spread slightly apart, exposing her cleanly shaven sex. Under the harsh artificial light her skin was almost a pure white, looking as if she was a beautiful mare blanc with a chestnut colored mane, paying homage to her new master.
Her appearance startled even a seasoned Domme as Helene. She gasped as she saw the naked form before her, posing as if a statue in a museum, so perfect in a submissive position. Helene broke her routine as a Domme, reaching down to help up her new submissive and bring her into the shelter of her warm house, leaving her clothes behind. Helene wanted desperately to hug and hold this beautiful creature, to caress her every curve, but resisted those maternal impulses. Instead, she said, “Inspection.”
The sub scrambled to her Inspection position, kneeling, knees wide apart, eyes straight forward and hands behind her head. Helene intended to critically watch the sub as she assumed the position, but was so taken by the grace of her sub’s movements that she watched as if an admirer from afar. The older Domme snapped into the present as the sub settled into the Inspection position, staring straight ahead, avoiding her Mistress’s gaze. Helene approached her sub, walking in a slow circle around her, admiring the perfection of her body, the inside light now making her skin luminescent.
Helene’s mind was a swirl of thoughts, wonderful thoughts, as she viewed this work of art as an inheritance from a rich relative. Prior to Mandy’s arrival, she had tried to tame her expectations. She told herself after that conversation with Keisha that she could be disappointed. She didn’t know if the former Domme did a good job of training the sub, and of course didn’t know what she looked like. But this! “Why had she been bestowed with such a treasure?” she thought. It could be nothing less than the act of a diety.
Helene held her arm out, tracing her finger about the sub’s nubile body, outlining the face, feeling the soft line of the back of the neck, tracing around the shoulder blades and down each vertebrae to the small of the back, raising the small hairs on the sub’s quivering body. As her finger was making its magical journey her mind wandered, as if on the best high of her life. It wandered to areas of her mind that hadn’t been accessed in years, opening the doors to Helene’s youth. Helene had once been the young beauty, being trained first as a sub to the best Domme in New York City, and then asserting her dominant side at the shoulders of other well-known Dommes. Now she was Mistress Helene. It was a long road going through years of training and even more years learning the art of managing a submissive.
Helene knew at a young age that she was different. She knew to her core at a time when kids were more concerned with less important matters. She watched people. She was fascinated by their movements, their motivations, and their outward emotions. In another life, she once thought, her level of sensitivity was akin to a dancer, and more particularly a ballerina. She could communicate with her body.
When she was a new sub, her then Domme had two other subs living with her. Helene was able to learn with these other more experienced women about the art of serving their Mistress. It was as if she was a new dog joining the pack. Helene knew her place was at the back of that pack, having to earn her position closest to their Mistress’s bed. But earn it she did, consciously with perfect attention to detail, but also unconsciously with the unspoken words from her body. Her Domme was in love with Helene’s body, constantly praising it as Helene was between her legs, eating her juicy, ripe cunt and her delectable ass.
All these thoughts came to the fore. Helene had once been the girl kneeling before her. If she could rewind her life fifteen long years, she would be on her knees, looking straight ahead, yearning for the opportunity to serve. It was as if she was in the past and present at the same time.
Helene was ecstatic. So much to think about, so much to plan.
Eloise was emphatic in her advice. “Take her,” she said. Helene respected Eloise, and her advice if anything, was understated. “I not only want to take her, without her speaking a word, I never want to let her go,” Helene thought. Now the new Domme’s thoughts went the other direction. Could Keisha change her mind? Would her sub accept her? A chill went up Helene’s spine. She wasn’t mine yet, she thought. I could lose her.
But first, the new Domme had to act out her part, making minor corrections in the sub’s posture and arm position, testing the firmness of her muscles, while thinking about her new treasure. So this is how a pirate captain felt, standing on the deck of a new plundered prize, dreaming about what pleasures lay ahead.
The sub felt the finger of her new Domme, pressing down on her lower lip so she could see her teeth. The sub’s mind was elsewhere. As she surveyed her surroundings Mandy thought the entranceway to the house was classic and beautiful. The Oriental rug beneath her knees she judged to be of fine quality, as were the paintings from a well-known local artist that adorned the walls. The sub could see this woman had impeccable taste. Mistress Keisha was a real estate developer and had a magnificent home not far from Helene’s. The sub knew that Mistress Keisha would only give her to someone she knew would be suited to her. And the sub knew that Mistress Keisha was in mortal internal pain, both from her back and the knowledge that the two of them would have to part.
The sub’s adrenaline also surged when she first saw her new Domme. She too had had a few days to think about her new role. She was only told that Helene was well respected in the community and had nothing but glowing references. However, there were no pictures, and then only talk that Helene was a handsome, elegant woman.
The sub was overwhelmed by her first real look, in the entranceway, in the revealing inside light. She saw a tall woman, accentuated by heels, with straight blonde hair in an elegant upswept hairdo, crisp business attire and striking legs. The jacket did nothing to disguise the impressive swell of the Domme’s breasts. The sub noticed the confident stride, the cadence in harmony with her body’s movements. She also noticed Mistress Helene’s precise movements and restrained dispassionate facial expressions, both signs of the exercise of practiced dominance.
The sub too was overwhelmed by her good fortune. She too had tried to manage her expectations. During the two days she had to ponder the change she imagined a shorter, sterner woman of average physical appearance. The house would be modest, but tasteful. But this! The entranceway itself overshadowed the value of a small house. And the Domme was a tall woman, an elegant beauty of impeccable taste.
The sub’s heart was pounding as Mistress Helene circled her. Mandy was already hardwired to serve, but she was beyond motivated as she processed her flood of positive emotions. Mistress Helene stalked Mandy like a lioness stalks a gazelle, eyeing her prey while walking around her. Mandy could feel the Domme’s eyes raking her body as Helene memorized every curve and swell of her body and admired the well-defined nature of her muscles, no doubt the product of hundreds of hours of work in the fitness studio. Mandy knew that she had meticulously followed the instructions of Mistress Keisha, and that her adherence to the strict rules of discipline should be reflected in her outward presentation.
Mistress Helene had already concluded that she was going to keep Mandy if Mistress Keisha would surrender her. Her perfunctory movements in the entranceway were necessary to instill in her new sub the mindset that breaks in discipline would not be tolerated. Yet, she could barely resist the temptation to take this delicious creature right there and right then on the Oriental rug. But her years of training allowed her to resist that temptation, instead indifferently waving her hand to signal to the sub that she was to crawl behind her.
Mandy admired her new Mistress’s restraint, minimizing her commands and economizing on her movements. She had clearly managed many subs before her. She crawled, following Mistress Helene, up the stairs to the Domme’s sleeping chambers. No detail was missed by the naturally curious sub as she climbed the stairs on her hands and knees. Mistress Helene never looked back, knowing that to do so would imply that her commands would not be followed precisely. The sub was now on her knees on a cream colored wool berber carpeting that covered the entirety of the master suite. Her knees nestled into the soft carpeting as she watched her Mistress sit in one of the two upholstered chairs in the bedroom. The Domme slowly spread her legs as far apart as her skirt would allow, revealing a shadowy space between them that was Mandy’s ultimate goal.
The sub stared at that space, the tip of her tongue inadvertently slipping out from between her lips. The Domme saw the small break in discipline and smiled, knowing that her new sub wanted her as much as she wanted her new sub. She had other things in mind first, now closing her legs and extending her heel clad foot forward, pointing the toe towards the expectant sub.
“You’ve been trained in the art of pleasuring a woman?”
Mistress Helene’s body was already buzzing with an energy fueled by anticipation. She watched as the sub drew closer to her foot, her soft hands gently slipping off the new black patent leather pump. She licked the top of the shoe, which was to be expected, but then suckled on the heel, moving it in and out of her mouth, showing her Mistress her will to submit. Then to underscore her submission, she turned the shoe over, taking the flat of her tongue and licking the bottom of the shoe before placing the shoe on the carpet. Mistress Helene marveled at the ease at which her new sub demonstrated fealty to her new Mistress.
Mistress’s bare foot was next. The carefully painted toes were each rolled between Mandy’s fingers, relaxing the muscles, and then placed one by one in her mouth, each to be worshipped by her tongue. The well-trained sub then licked the bottom of the Domme’s foot, causing it to curl and for Helene to suppress a laugh induced by the tickling sensation of the wet tongue.
Satisfied, Helene offered the other foot for the same painstaking treatment. By now, the place between the Domme’s legs was now sticky with the warm discharge from her pussy, her body now anticipating the pleasures to come. Helene simply nodded her head, signaling her assent for the sub to go further, kissing up the inside of her legs, pressing them apart.
Mandy could barely contain her excitement. Licking the shoe and then her foot made her craving unstoppable, and now the soft, tender flesh of the inside of Mistress’s Helene’s shapely thighs was driving her crazy. She had memorized every inch of Mistress Keisha’s body, but here was a fresh adventure, one for her to explore with the knowledge of an experienced sub. She knew what reaction each nibble, lick, or suck would elicit, and now was the time to utilize every skill that had been honed between Mistress Keisha’s thighs.
The aroma was all consuming. Helene’s cunt was now a raging inferno of desire. Mandy imprinted the scent in her mind, the sweet earthy smell of her Mistress filling her flaring nostrils. Helene could wait no longer, using her hand to guide her sub the last few inches, burying Mandy’s face in her sodden pussy. The sub instincts took over, her body moving faster than her mind, probing with her tongue, manipulating the pulsating flesh with her fingers, and sucking up the juices with her lips. Helene had never felt such pleasure between her legs, Mandy’s superb training in full display. The ecstasy heightened beyond her ability to comprehend, Helene’s cunt spasmed, expelling a flood of liquid, saturating the expensive brocade of the upholstered chair, but neither woman caring, as the sub gratefully licked up the copious discharge.
Helene was barely able to issue a groan, her senses short circuited by Mandy’s ministrations. She thrashed in her chair, whipping her head in circles as a never ending wave of orgasms landed on shore, stealing her ability to control her movements. The sub knew that her Mistress was in that zone where primal sexual urges were being satiated. She had touched her Mistress in a place where no one had ventured before. Both women knew at that point that they would be inseparable. This was too good – too perfect.
The sexual frenzy soon evolved into contentment, as Helene re-entered the world of the living. She wanted to lavish her new sub with kisses of gratitude, but knew that such attention would upset the balance between them. Instead, she offered her foot. Mandy saw the Domme push her foot out, inviting her to satisfy her own need. Mandy first sucked on each toe again, inflaming even more her already red hot passion, and then lowered her swampy cunt on her Mistress’s big toe, using the toe to fuck her pussy and massage her clit. Helene wiggled her big toe on the hardened nub of her submissive, causing her sub to almost swoon. Mandy then slid upward, moving her slickened cunt up and down Helene’s lower leg, massaging her clit, pussy and asshole at the same time. The stimulation was too great.
“Oh … oh … Mistress … please,” the young chestnut brunette begged as her release was imminent.
Mistress Helene sensed this was a critical juncture. Should she reward her sub with an orgasm, or test her ability to withhold her pleasure in order to please her Mistress? She chose the latter option.
“Not yet slut.”
Mandy realized that she was being tested, and wanted badly to pass, but her need was all consuming and her body was not entirely hers to command. She exerted every device she could think of to forestall her climax as Helene intentionally pressed her leg upward, increasing the friction. Mandy started grunting, trying to expel the energy building up inside her. Her lower body started to tremble. The ripples radiated outward until her entire body was quaking. Finally, the dam broke.
“Fuckkkkk. Mistresssssss,” shouted the sub at the top of her lungs. The young sub’s mind exploded with a bright flash followed by a trail of stars. She slumped forward, bereft of energy, panting, her body rocking with each breath. Helene reached out to steady her lover, feeling the sheen of sweat on her shiny skin.
“Mistress …” She looked at Helene with pleading eyes, the begging an essential part of the process of submission.
Helene decided she wanted her new sub to fail. It would give them something to work on. And she wanted to punish Mandy. What was her threshold of pain? How had Mistress Keisha trained her in the art of pain as a precursor to pleasure?
“I’m going to punish you. Tell me that you deserve it.”
“I do Mistress. I failed to hold back my orgasm and spoke without invitation. Please punish me. I deserve it.”
“Tell me what instruments Mistress Keisha used on you.”
“Of course she used her hand. She liked to use the palm of her hand to warm me up. I’ve been flogged, cropped and whipped. I’ve been caned once but not by Mistress Keisha.”
“Who did it?”
“I did it on a dare. It was with a Domme on the Upper West Side.”
“Tell me about it.”
“It was worse, far worse than my first experience with anal sex. She only hit me ten times, but she knew how to snap it in a way that broke the skin. I couldn’t sit down comfortably for a week.”
“What type of punishment do you like the least?”
“The whip, Mistress.”
Mistress Helene excused herself to go to the playroom to select the mode of punishment. Her mind was filled with possibilities. How good was her technique as compared to Mistress Keisha? Would she scare her sub away? Mistress Helene decided to play it the way she normally did. She would punish her sub at an intensity level that would make her sub remorseful, yet at the same time sexually excited.
Mistress Helene decided to administer the punishment in the master bath. She pulled out a footstool she ordinarily used when she was applying her make-up and retrieved four Velcro cuffs from her “toy” drawer. She directed Mandy to kneel and lean over the footstool, then attached her wrists and ankles to the four legs of the footstool.
Mandy suppressed her anxiety and prepared herself for her upcoming punishment. Unable to move her wrists, Mandy reached down with her fingers and caressed the travertine marble floor tiles and the crevices within, concentrating on studying them instead of thinking about the pain that would be coming.
That admonition was the only warning the helpless sub would receive. She heard a snap followed by a stinging sensation across her right ass cheek. Mistress Helene had selected one of her smaller whips where she could more finely control the location of the strike. Mandy smiled inwardly, knowing that Mistress Helene had purposely selected the mode of punishment that she disliked the most.
“Ohhhhhhh,” moaned the young sub as the pain rocketed through her body. But she remembered her duty as well. “One,” she recited as dispassionately as she could.
Helene approached her young charge and rubbed her back, whispering, “Tell me you love it.”
“I love it, please give me another,” the sub whimpered, telling the truth.
The Domme struck her sub with more enthusiasm, criss-crossing her ass and thighs with fine red stripes, though being careful not to damage or break the skin. Mandy forced herself to breathe rhythmically, ignoring her urge to pant, and continued to do everything in her power to block the sensation of pain. At the same time, her body had given her another signal. She felt a small droplet of moisture running down the inside of her leg. She now knew that her new Mistress was an expert in administering corporal punishment and had managed to find that fine demarcation point between pain and pleasure.
The pattern was repeated a half dozen times – the stroke, the count, the reassurance that more was wanted, until Mistress Helene was satisfied that her new sub could indeed withstand, and in fact enjoy, being punished.
“Have you learned your lesson?” Helene could see that the young brunette was needy, the moisture now running freely down her immobile legs.
“Yes Mistress. Thank you for correcting my bad behavior.” Mandy was pleased that she had accepted her punishment with grace, and that the punishment itself wasn’t any more severe than she had experienced with Mistress Keisha.
Helene looked down at her obedient sub, who had just willingly accepted a whipping with gratitude. She could resist no more, dropping to her knees next to her prize, fervently planting kisses on the areas that had just received the taste of her lash. Mandy started pulling at her bonds, the sweet sensation of the kisses and the pain still radiating from the whipping merging into a cacophony of sensations, both pleasant and unpleasant.
Mistress Helene decided to reward her sub, parting the cheeks of her ass to regard the sub’s rosebud, a favorite resting place for the Domme’s tongue. She stiffened the soft tissues and pressed forward, first feeling the crinkly surface of her sub’s anus, and then the smooth warm flesh beyond the tight anal ring. Mandy’s eyes opened wide, more than pleasantly surprised that her new Domme had decided to rim and tongue fuck her ass. She pulled at her bonds again, wanting to massage her inflamed clit and release a torrent of sexual tension. But of course her struggle was to no avail as Helene continued to probe, lick and kiss the sub’s nether hole, increasing the level of tension.
As the young sub was writhing beneath her, the Domme posed the ultimate question. “Slut, do you want to submit to me?”
Mandy had decided from almost the moment she arrived that this was her new home. “I do.”
“Tell me why.”
“You are my new Mistress.”
Mistress Helene accepted that simple explanation and was gratified that Mandy wanted her as much as she wanted this young, eager sub.
“You have my permission to tell me how you want to submit to me.”
“I want you to pee on me. On all of me.” Her head bowed lower, not with shame, but with respect.
Helene knew to a moral certainty that Mandy was for her. Mandy wanted to bear her Mistress’s mark. Helene realized that Mandy wanted her mark – the mark that she was Mistress’s property, to do with as she wished.
The Domme walked to her master bathroom, the sub following behind. Helene opened the shower door. Mandy lay down on her back on the floor. Helene stood over her.
As was to be expected, the Domme struggled, managing just a weak stream dripping down her legs. Mandy saw the beginning of the flow, and bent her heads sideways, sticking out her tongue as a small trickle of urine reached the tall blonde’s ankles. The sub scraped her tongue against her Mistress’s ankle, tasting the salty metal tinged liquid. It was tangy but not wholly unpleasant, and it was the unique signature of her new Mistress. She wanted more.
Helene had to control her body so that her ankle didn’t tremble as she felt her young sub’s tongue licking the piss off her ankle. She was so beautiful, laying there in a completely submissive posture, waiting for, no begging, for her Mistress’s gift. Helene’s flow suddenly increased, breaking her reverie. The trickle became a strong stream, hissing in the air as it splashed against the sub’s face. Mandy felt the warmth of her Mistress’s pee on her cheek. She inhaled the feral odor as she opened her mouth, moving it to intercept the stream, it then bubbling in her mouth and flowing over her lips onto the shower floor.
Mandy no longer felt the harsh cold of the tile beneath her. Now she was basking in the warmth of her Mistress as she bestowed her with her golden liquid. She resisted the urge to gag, and swallowed, the saltiness leaving a tinge that coated her tongue, then that same briny, almost burning sensation, flowing down her throat. Now Mandy knew that her Mistress was a part of her.
Mistress peed on her new sub’s hair, her face again, then her tits and finally saving the last jet of her essence on Mandy’s cunt. The sub was hers in every way she could make her hers.
Mistress Helene wanted one last act of submission. She knelt over Mandy’s face, allowing the young sub to raise her head slightly, licking the last drops of the precious fluid off the Domme’s glistening pussy lips. Mandy closed her eyes so as to imprint that unique taste in her memory, allowing each of the remaining drops to coat her tongue. When she was finished, she opened her eyes and gazed upwards, meeting Helene’s eyes with hers.
The Domme pulled her sub up to her feet, bracing Mandy tightly against her, feeling the sub’s now cool urine soaked breasts against hers. Helene reached over and turned the shower on, the ice cold water hitting the bottom of their legs. Shivering, the two of them kissed, Helene pushing her tongue into her sub’s mouth, tasting that familiar tang that belonged to her. They kissed until the water turned warm, the shivering giving way to a sultry dance, as the two of them gyrated against one another while increasing the passion of their kiss.
“You’ll be mine soon,” said Helene, as she pulled away momentarily from the lithesome brunette.
The sub didn’t answer. Instead, she dropped to her knees and starting lapping at the sex of her new Mistress.