When she sleeps the girl dreams as she never has before. The events of the evening, and those leading up to it play through her mind, merge with her fantasies and melt into her soul. Every detail, from the decision to buy her first piece of luxury bondage gear and that to brave her first scene event hoping as she had, to be mistaken for a domme… Every detail until their goodnight kisses, and and the click of the lock of hand and ankle straps fastening her bound limbs on their bed.
Her mind processes the memory of being led from the party on her own leash, then kneeling before them blindfolded as their limousine carried her to this other-worldly place. Her dream knits it into a cherished fantasy inspired by Anne Rice’s beauty series, making the fantasy more real, and in her sleep she presses her legs together but without her hands it isn’t enough… and so her dreams spin deeper... It blends the recollection of timidly undressing at the softly spoken command of the handsome man beside her and turning to show herself to him with her never having had the courage to approach her first crush. At another it dwells on the sweetness of pressing her lips to the beautiful woman’s honey skin, and in that dwelling, cleanses the bitterness of to the day she saw her favourite model in real life, staring at her struck dumb as she felt her first stirring of Sapphic desire…
Few of her teachers, or her bosses, had come close to that commanding aura of this couple, and with them she had always melted into the background, fearful of the emotions they summoned in her. None of her partners had lit those fires. The broad, dark haired man and his elegant wife though? They’d found her… seen her… focused on her… And under their calm eyes the shyness that had always stood in her way compelled her to comply with their wishes, and with the wishes she fancied they had seen in her...
She'd never before experienced many of the evening’s self indulgent acts that tumble through her memory, never thought she would be so brazen, so decadent, as the glow lingering in her proves… Similarly, she had never been subjected to any form of physical chastisement. The memory of their admonishing hands tweaking her sensitive breasts, of their bdsm furniture, Shiri Zinn floggers and palms striking her to enforce compliance, of the notes of command and tenderness in their voices. They gave her pain, commanded her with stern words and expectant silence, but her pain hadn’t been so great, nor their commands so harsh, and both had proved stronger than the timidity that has always been her prison…
Her sleeping mind doesn’t count the times she’d lain unsatisfied while a previous partner slept off his own fulfillment, or lingered on her disturbed nights’ sleep as she held back from compensating by being the source of her own pleasure, but it does recall each of her lovers’ skill, and their passion… and revels in pride at having dared to pleasure herself for her own delight and theirs, despite already having cum more than she thought possible…In her sleep, breasts and mons yearn for their touch, or even just to feel the pressure of her own slight weight, but secured to the bed as she is she can neither press them against her lovers nor the mattress. As for the evening before, it belonged to the couple, to herself. All her sleeping body can do is once again press her thighs together in search of relief, but that’s never been enough for her...
To be continued
Master E
