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“Come, pet, we have much to do before we play.”
Like the pet I am, I follow her like a lost puppy. She stops outside a guest bathroom before handing me a tiny scrap of silk.
“Disrobe, and put this on.” Her no-nonsense tone sends shivers skittering down my spine. “Everything off,” she intones darkly.
I clench my thighs together, not sure if I want to stave off my desire, or push it closer to the edge.
“None of that,” she snaps. “All of your pleasure belongs to me. Only I can provide it or withhold it as I see fit.”
I bow to her. “Yes, Mistress.”
She nods once succinctly. “Good girl. When you’re ready, meet me in the garden.”
Once I’m alone, excitement pushes me to quickly remove my clothes, but I take my time to fold them, and place them neatly on the counter. The scrap of silk is a robe… barely. It only just covers my cunt and leaves half my ass cheeks hanging out. I close the lapels closer to my neck hiding my chest, but that only reveals my pussy that’s already dripping with desire. It would be the height of embarrassment if I didn’t know she likes it so much.
Just thinking about her desire has me hurrying out to the backyard. As soon I step foot outside, I freeze, and gasp. It’s stunning. Lines upon lines of fairy lights decorate the entire garden, giving it an ethereal glow. Burning candles, and scattered rose petals lead to a bridge where she’s waiting for me, lounged on that outdoor circular couch.
Even though her body is in repose, her eyes spark with hunger. When I’m within reach, she rises to her feet, and cups my cheeks. “You’re such a beautiful girl.”
My breath catches in my throat. No one has ever looked at me the way she’s looking at me now. Like I’m the end all, be all of her entire world. Being the center of that much attention is both excruciating and magnificent because while it’s the only place I want to be, I’m so scared I’ll lose it.
I will lose it. No matter how much I pretend I can freeze this time where only she and I exist, it’s impossible. I’m getting married. Moving back to Austin to get my masters in business. There will be no room in my life for her, even though she’s the only thing that I want.
I gasp in my next breath, trying to swallow the sob forcing its way up my throat. The concern on her face is all consuming, and it kills me because I haven’t been honest with her.
But what can I do?
As soon as I tell her everything, she’ll hate me. Will no doubt never want to see me again.
If I can only steal these moments. I want as many of them as I can get.
She asks, “Are you ok?”
I nod adamantly. “I’m perfect, Mistress.”
Her fingers slide into my hair and grasp my scalp as she pulls me close for a lingering kiss that leaves me breathless.
“You certainly are perfect, my little hummingbird.”
Without another word she pulls back, but grasps my hand as she leads me onto the couch. It’s softer than it looks, luxurious even. We’re both on our knees facing each other, only a few inches between us when she reaches for my sash and pulls it free. I expect her to toss it away, but instead she wraps it around my eyes, making me gasp. “Don’t worry, it will only heighten everything you feel.”
She’s right. As her palms smooth over my shoulders, pushing the silk down my arms, the tickle, the caress of both the fabric and her warm flesh tantalizes each of my senses. My skin feels so much more acute. Her smell becomes a heady mix of cinnamon and vanilla. When her tongue smooths over my bottom lip, and my tongue sneaks out for a taste, it’s bursting with honey and mint. The sound of her breathing becomes my radar as to how far or close she is. Each time she grows nearer, my heart speeds up in anticipation.
Once the robe is gone, she lays me on my tummy. I turn my face in what I think is her direction. I can’t stop smiling, and when something soft tickles down my spine, I can’t contain another gasp. “Shh…, my sensitive girl. It’s only a peacock feather.”
As she moves that feather up and over my entire backside, the pressure is constantly changing, giving me a taste of everything it can elicit. When she feathers it gently over the crack of my ass, I can’t help but arch into it, desperate for more.
She tsks “I had no intentions of tying you up today, so don’t make me change my mind.”
I consider how good, how freeing it felt the last time she bound me and how much I want it again. But then I think about the possibilities of finally touching her, and I decide it’s better to be good, to do what she says.
I lower back down to the cushions. “I’m sorry, Mistress.”
The feather never stops. Every minute, it ups my titillation, bringing me closer to a desperate culmination.
“That’s quite alright, sweet girl. Just don’t do it again.”
Too soon, she’s pulling the feather away, but I know better than to question her methods.
