'This place looks familiar... wait, this is where Tania and I met," Katrina idly thought as she walked into the restaurant where she was to meet Ted. It had been a month or so since their last meeting, and she knew she had to meet him here, tonight, at about 8:00 PM.
It worried her a little that she wasn't really sure how she knew. But, she did know that Ted could have done a lot more than just take back his girl. That, somehow, put her at ease just enough to trust him; at least, to trust him a little.
She still did not like the fact that she had no control over his thoughts.
After she was seated, she waited patiently as 8:00 came... and went. By 8:30, she was a little upset—she'd never been stood up before, and it was proving to be irritating. Thankfully, the cute waitress she'd seen wandering the floor came up to her, holding what was undoubtedly a message from Ted.
"Are you Katrina Spellacy?" the well-curved waitress asked.
Running her eyes over the curves in her blouse caused by her very full breasts, Katrina replied, "Yes. Do you have a message from Ted?"
The waitress looked uncomfortable, but not because she was being ogled by the customer. She was never sure how to deliver messages that basically said the person being waited for would be late—the one who was waiting always wanted more information, and she never had it.
"Actually, I'm supposed to hand this to you. I didn't read it, but I was told to take you to one of the private dining suites—I guess the guy felt so bad about being late for your date that he paid quite a bit of money to reserve one of the rooms. I can show you to the room, if you like," the waitress politely chimed.
Katrina, after reading the note, smiled and raised one of her eyebrows. She folded the note, slipped it into her purse, and simply said (with a mildly creepy smile), "Lead the way, dear. Oh, and what's your name?"
"Oh, didn't I tell you before? I'm sorry! It's Jo."
'I wonder if she knows how much he paid for this dining suite,' I thought as I led the guest to the largest of our five secluded dining rooms. I suppose it didn't matter, though, because he was still late. Men!
Well, I can't complain—I married a man, after all; but at least he was the kind who never missed a date. But it still gets me that some guys think they can show up when they want to, wine and dine their girl, and if they spent enough, all is forgiven... and sometimes rewarded!
'It's almost enough to make me want to be with a woman instead,' I thought. I didn't know where that thought came from, though.
"Here we are. Now, you have a seat, and I'll have the waiters..." I began, stopping suddenly. Somehow, I just couldn't talk.
"Actually," the strange woman said, her grin widening, "I was thinking that you and I could... talk. For a while, anyway. You're not busy, are you?"
I had a "deer in the headlights" feeling come over me, but that didn't matter—I was, in fact, very busy. "No, I'm not busy at all. Shall I lock the door so we can have some privacy, ma'am?" I said.
And that's when the panic hit me—I didn't mean to say anything like that. Before I knew what was happening, though, I found myself walking to the door, locking it, and walking back—coming to a stop in front of this beautiful woman named Katrina. 'Beautiful? Where did that come from? I'm not...'
Before I could finish the thought, though, she spoke again—this time, with a voice that seemed to fill my ears with some kind of warmth.
"Don't worry about a thing, darling. My, uh, date, as you call him, can't make it for another hour or so. But, he did give me something to occupy my time. Care to guess what it is?"
As she spoke, I felt the warmth drip into my brain from my ears... it was like warm oil was being poured over and into my mind, and down my body. Everywhere part of my body it touched tingled. My brain began to buzz with... arousal? Whatever it was, as her liquid voice invaded my head, it drove away my panic... my responsibilities... and my will.
She spoke again, as the warm sensation found my nipples and slowly dripped down my back. "Your answer is not necessary; you'll figure it out. I can't help but notice that you're sweating, though. If you want, you can take off that blouse, and your skirt—they look very hot."
Of course! My clothes! Why didn't I think of that! My hands—shaking because of the tingling feeling at my nipples (and dripping down my backside, somehow cupping the curve of my ass and finding my pussy)—quickly unbuttoned my blouse.
Even after taking it and my skirt off, though, I still felt warm, so I undid my bra and took off my panties—getting slightly embarrassed when I saw her notice the wet spot. Instantly, the warm feeling left—but the tingles remained.
"Still uncomfortable?" she said, almost teasingly—there was no way she was behind my sudden hot flash, was there?
"N... No, ma'... am..." I stammered. The tingling was getting intense around my nipples and pussy... there was almost a sensation of something moving in and out of me, but it wasn't quite tangible. It was, however, very nice.
Hoping she wouldn't mind, I brought my hands up to caress my round tits. When my fingertips found my (almost painfully) hard nipples, though, an electric bolt shot down to my groin, and I doubled over in ecstasy. I hadn't cum, but I definitely struck a nerve... the good kind of nerve! My husband was going to get sooooo lucky tonight...
"That may be," she said, as if I was thinking out loud, "but for now, I think you'd better focus on your current predicament."
As she spoke, she took off her evening dress. I finally got the strength to stand up again—still holding, massaging, and pinching my breasts and nipples—and that's when I noticed that she was naked, except for a dark violet thong.
'Mmmmm, she shaves..." I thought. That's when I realized what was happening—this woman was somehow making this happen! I had to get out... I had to get home, to my man...
"Don't worry about him. He'll never know," she said as she walked over to a chair, swinging her hips and swaying her butt seductively.
Sitting down, she went on. "Back to your predicament—didn't you notice your hands were tied behind your back?"
Instantly, I felt ropes bind my hands. I looked at my wrists, and there was no rope—but I could feel the rope surrounding them, pulling them behind me, and then locking them together. I tried to speak.
"What... why..." was all I got out before I felt a phantom rope going around my ankles. They were drawn and locked together in seconds, flat. I frantically searched for the unseen ropes for what seemed like a eternity—but it really only took a few seconds to realize that they were either invisible, or I was crazy. Her voice drew my gaze in her direction as I felt something surround my neck—not a rope, though; it felt more like a band of leather.
"It's a collar," she said, obviously hearing my thoughts on what was around my neck. Then, she held up a an empty fist and announced, "This, my little cuntlicker, is the leash."
Now, I've hated that word for as long as I've known it. But, at that moment, the word hit me like a sexual jolt—and I wished, suddenly, that my hands were free to pay attention to my clit. Just as I thought that, though, she spoke again... and I hoped one of the words would be cunt!
"Tsk, tsk, tsk, Jo. You're not allowed to touch yourself. You have to depend on me to give you pleasure. And, I won't give you pleasure without some kind on incentive." With that, she flicked her wrist, and my neck felt as if it were tugged sharply forward—the momentum brought me to my knees. Somehow, I maintained my balance and didn't fall face-first onto the floor.
Her gaze fell on me, and her deep eyes seemed to fill my whole being with the knowledge of what I needed to do. What I had to do.
It was the most important thing I had ever known—and I couldn't believe that I'd lived my whole life not knowing it.
'I must service her. My happiness is her pleasure; without her pleasure, there is no happiness.'
'I am her cuntlicker.'
She teasingly asked, "would you like me to let you crawl to me, pet?"
"Yes, Mistress. Let your cuntlicker slave come to you so she can lick you." As I said it, the feeling around my ankles faded enough so I could just barely move them around—it was like having my feet tied with bungee cords. And so I walked, on my knees, to my owner.
When I was close enough, I dove for her right foot. Kissing and licking it wasn't enough, though; I kissed my way to her toes and gently took them—each of them, one at a time—into my mouth. I sucked them gently, and my tongue gave each one the best massage it could. When I was done (somehow, she let me know I was done without speaking!), I gave her other foot similar treatment.
After a few minutes of that, and after getting a few moans out of her (each moan made elicited a tingle deep inside my pussy), I began to lick and kiss my way up her smooth calf. When I passed her knee, I continued towards my reward: the glorious, and probably glistening, center of my universe. It all resided behind a thin patch of purple cloth.
I made it to a few inches away when I felt my collar hold me fast. All I could do was look at the damp panel of cotton and breathe in her mesmerizing scent. It was a warm scent, one that had an effect on me that wasn't too different from when I experimented with opium back in college, before I got married—it was simply intoxicating!
"Not so fast, slave. You have to take off the only barrier keeping you from true happiness—the only barrier keeping you from pleasuring me. You want to do that, don't you?"
"Yes, Mistress," I muttered, too ashamed for not realizing this earlier to meet her eyes. Somehow, looking at her without her permission just seemed... wrong.
"Of course you do. You know your only hope of... release... is to please me, don't you," she said, emphasizing the word "release" to make sure I knew it meant both my physical release, and my orgasmic release—my heat had been rising since the first "rope" had circled my wrists!
"Yes, Mistress, but your slave's hands are bound. How can this slave remove your panties?"
She didn't say a word—she only stood up, and turned around. My gaze followed the backs of her lovely legs all the way up to the crack of her perfect ass—and that's when I saw it. "It," of course, was the "T" of the thong.
I scooted up as close as I could, and worked my way—lips first—up her right leg. When I got to the bottom of her derriere, though, I stuck out my tongue and traced a line up—between her cheeks—until I tasted the top of her underwear. It took a few tries, but I was able to grip it in my teeth, and I wrestled it down to her ankles.
My new Goddess stepped out of them, kicked the chair aside, and lay on the floor several feet away from me. When she slowly spread her thighs, I got my first glimpse of her perfect cunny. I could not take my eyes from it, but out of the corner of my eye, I did notice her hand—the one holding my invisible leash—whip up.
I fell forward a little, and much to my surprise, I caught myself! All of my "ropes" seemed to have disappeared. I initially wondered if I had done something wrong; I quickly began to fear for myself because I knew I would never know pleasure again if she sent me away without pleasing her.
Then, I felt a tugging on my neck. I looked at her hands, and they looked like they were pulling on a chain or rope. As they pulled, I was drawn in, foot by foot. It only took a few moments for my mouth to make contact with her pussy.
I kissed it as if it were my husband's mouth ('Husband?' I thought, unable to remember much of anything before discovering my new destiny as a cuntlicker—thankfully, the memory faded as quickly as it has appeared), my tongue exploring her wetness timidly at first. As I began to know her curves, folds, and taste, my tongue picked up speed and found a good rhythm with which to lap her.
She lifted her spread legs, forming something like a "V" made of exquisite flesh. She let her feet rest on my back, and I suddenly realized that I could use my tongue to actually penetrate her in this position. So, I did. In and out my erect tongue went, my head leaning left to right as it plunged in and out of her crotch. After several minutes of this, I put my tongue in her as far as I could, and held it there.
She was panting and moaning now—each sound of ecstasy she made, no matter how minute, was enough to make it feel like someone was sucking my clit. The louder she moaned, the more intense the sensation. Realizing that she would enjoy the sensation much more than I was allowed to, I slit my tongue up and out—and, once my upper lip passed her slightly protruding clit, I closed my mouth around the area and gently sucked it in.
She made an animalistic grunt and dug her heels into my back—ooooh, it felt so good! The sensation in my own pussy told me that I was on the right track—so, I teased her clit with my tongue. It moved up to love button and then darted away. It rubbed a circle clockwise around it, and then darted away again.
She was almost giggling with pleasure now, her hips gyrating and her body much more animated than before. And, when the sensation in my crotch was almost too much to bear, I figured I should try to push her over the edge.
I sucked a little harder on her slit, and rubbed her clitty vigorously with my tongue. I worked it as hard and as fast as I could. And, I didn't stop until I felt her cum all over my face. In fact, I didn't even stop then—my mouth created a plateau of pleasure on which my Mistress hit several climaxes before making me stop.
It took her several minutes to recover. At some point, I think she got up and got a drink of water from the table, which must have been set while I was worshiping at the altar between Her legs. I didn't question why—She probably told them not to disturb us.
But, those thoughts were unimportant, because I discovered that I was somehow bound again, and blindfolded, too. This time, I was almost completely unable to move. When I wiggled my torso a bit, I did feel a soft rope drag across my clit—if it weren't Her rope, it would have hurt, but the feeling I was experiencing was divine.
Suddenly, I could see her standing over me. I felt myself roll over to my back, and my arms and legs were pulled (again, by Her ropes) until I was spread eagle. She looked at me, cocked her head to the side, and my arms were brought down towards my hips.
My legs were also moved—my ankles were brought back, and when they almost met my wrists, I once again noticed the now-familiar sensation of invisible rope binding them.
My legs were spread, I could barely move, and She brought a finger to within an inch of my clit.
"Don't speak," She warned. "Can you feel me?" she asked.
I nodded—I really could! There was some kind of raw heat coming off of Her finger, and it had a pulsating energy behind it—I imagined it was in time with Her heartbeat.
"I know you can. If you want release, give yourself to me, now. You can continue your life with your husband, but when I need you, I will have you. Don't worry about him, I'm only interested in you. But, you must give yourself to me, completely. You will be mine. Everything that you were, everything that you are, and everything that you will be—the very essense of your being—will belong only to me. What do you say?"
Instantly, my memory came back—I was married! And, I was not gay! What the fuck... oh, but Her finger... if it touched me... and Her taste... and Her cunt... I was Her cuntlicker...
"My husband would not know?" I meekly whispered, almost delirious with the anguish of being so close to the release that I needed, and having so much to lose at the same time.
"Give yourself to me. Nothing else matters." When She told me that, I saw Her arm move a bit more... and when the heat and the pulse grew, I knew that She was closer to me than ever. My cunt almost quivered in anticipation...
My internal battle, though, didn't relent. I was married, I had a good husband, he was great in bed—oh, but it never felt like this! To completely surrender myself to Her was going to be the best thing I could ever do... it would feel better than anything else in my life ever had... but my husband...
"I'm yours."
After I said it, all regret was washed from me by a tidal wave of pleasure so powerful, I felt it wash me towards transcendental bliss. Right before I passed out, my eyes rolled back into my head as I rode the orgasmic wave towards my new life as a slave, ready to serve at Her convenience.
That's when I briefly saw a man walk into the room with an amused look on his face.
After my eyes closed but before I passed out, I heard him say something about my screaming. I didn't even remember making a sound.
"Gee, Katrina, did you mind the wait?" Ted asked as Katrina got dressed.
"It wasn't too bad," she replied, with a smirk on her face. "And, you don't have to worry about her—she's safe to go back home. I even made sure that she introduces her husband to her new, life-long love of submission. Consider that just a little lesson for her on what she should accept as true submission."
"You know full well that she wasn't submissive before you took her," he said, apparently missing Katrina's point. He sat at the table while a host of waiters—each of whom seemed oblivious to the naked, sexually spent woman on the floor—re-set the table.
"Who said she's submissive?" Katrina retorted, winking at Ted as she sat down. She took out the note out that she'd placed in her purse earlier. Clearing her throat, she read out loud, "Kat, I'm going to be an hour or so late—please enjoy the company of any one—and I mean one—of the waitresses here to pass the time. And, no permanent slaves. We have a deal, remember."
He looked at her and smiled back, suppressing a little laugh and writing something on a piece of paper. After folding it and putting it in his pocket, he said, "fair enough. I'll send someone to make sure he understands his new role."
"If you think it's necessary," Katrina told him. "Women can be persuasive."
"Well, better safe than sorry. Anyway, enough of that. We have business to discuss," he said, with a tone that put Katrina ill at ease.