Chapter 18

Zoe

"You want something... ?" I kneeled at Mistress' feet and I was just, well, arousal. My whole mind, my whole body, my whole being wanting just one thing: Release. For a second I thought what a stupid question this was, until I realized she was teasing. That's how far gone I was.

"Yes, Mistress, please allow me to cum ... please..." I begged, but those were just the words I said. I'm sure the begging my eyes and body did was far more intense.

However, I wasn't granted release, not yet. Mistress let the leash drop, took off her coat, then peeled mine off me and let it drop to the floor. Then she pulled me up again, unzipped the tube dress and let it fall to the floor next to the coat. Then she led me to the living room where she sat down and looked at me. I bit my lips, felt the wetness on my thighs, the yearning unbearable, my need to touch myself or be touched, to get that little bit of stimulation to push me into the void overwhelming. I was glad I could lock my fingers behind my head as I knelt because otherwise I might have reached between my legs.

"Please, Mistress." My voice was barely a whimper, my body hot and flushed, my lips trembling as I spoke. Mistress just sat and smiled and looked.

After what seemed like an eternity she leaned forward, unbuckled the belt, slid her hand down between my legs, burying two fingers in my pussy.

"CUM!" she commanded - quite superfluously - me as she pushed them deep inside while at the same time pressing down on my clit.

I didn't cum. I exploded, writhing and twitching on the floor, soaking the rug, showering Ann's hand, crying and moaning and whimpering for a long time.

Mistress was cradling me in her arms when I came around, her fingers still inside me, her other hand holding me close. The belt was lying on the floor, the two ... thingies that had been inside me still attached to it. How I had loved them while we had walked home. How I had hated them at the same time. Every step I had taken had been heaven and it had been hell. Teasing me enough to get me to the edge with all the movement and friction, the dangling pendant doing its trick on my clit, yet denying me that shove that would have pushed me over the edge.

"I will obey. I must not cum. I will obey. I must not cum." The words were still echoing in my head. Except the mantra had changed, but I only noticed that when I stopped mumbling it. I didn't know whether it had helped me as Mistress had promised or whether it had merely added to the torment. However, it hadn't really felt like a suggestion and so I had kept repeating it, loud enough for her to hear it, quiet enough so nobody else did. But I guess if someone had watched they'd still have thought us to be an odd couple, especially if they had noticed the chain between Mistress' hand and my sleeve, but also because I'm sure my face was blushed and my expression changing from strained to happy and back to concentrated again all the time as I tried to deal with all the sensations.

Anyway, the much loved and just as much hated belt was off and although I assumed it hadn't been the only time I would be wearing it, I wasn't right now. Right now I was in Mistress's arms and that was the best possible place I could have imagined. Well, OK, there was one place I'd even liked better, but then again, I was already on my way to that place.

We stayed on that rug for a long time, only interrupted by a trip to the fridge...

It was past midnight when we lay in bed, ready to sleep, Mistress's fingers making sure I didn't forget who I belonged to, my hand cupping hers, the essence of her passion coating my face, her breath and lips on my neck and her fragrance strong in my nose. Finally I had time to think about the whole evening. Something had been bothering me all the time but until now I had been ... well, simply too overwhelmed and busy to figure out what it was. Although I was very tired, I still knew I wouldn't be able to drift off into sleep until I knew what it was that had bothered me.

I don't know how other people function, why they do things, what motivates them. Well, of course there are all the obvious reasons. Get rich, get the girl/guy they want, or love, or think they love, look good, be attractive, be successful, stay healthy, you name it. There are a lot of reasons to do a lot of stuff. But people sometimes do things without any reason, or without an obvious motivation, at least not obvious to me. Like, for instance, speeding. It's dumb, it puts others at risk (I really don't care if some idiot wraps his car around a tree, as long as he's the only one getting harmed it's simply Darwin at work), it's completely devoid of any sense because you'll still have to wait at the next red light. And it only impresses those girls you don't really want as a mating partner, unless your goal is to produce uber-dumb offspring. Devolution instead of evolution, kinda. Stupid. Senseless.

For me, things have to make sense. If something doesn't make sense it's difficult, if not impossible, to do it or learn it. I still confuse a lot of English words, simply because there's not much reason why 'read' and 'read' can be pronounced completely different or why the exact same word can have very different meanings, for example. That's probably why I like Italian: What you see (and read) is pretty much what you get, or at least how you pronounce it.

So, when I was sent upstairs with that bloke to undress, that didn't make any sense. I could have easily pulled the tube top over my head right there in the fitting room. With quite a lot of blushing, probably, but I would have done it. The fact that I didn't like him too much didn't help either. It wasn't his fault, but I couldn't help not liking him. Not since I had to work with one of them. The one I worked with wasn't only way too effeminate, he was also rather dumb, which for me makes for a bad combo. No, Sandy never really stood much of a chance with me.

I hadn't minded the fitting, not at all. Even if I had the feeling it could have been done faster, with much less fussing about. But that had made sense. Plus, Mistress was there. That was the difference, that when I went upstairs with Sandy I was alone. Glad that I finally knew I relaxed, felt myself drift off to sleep, but then another thought struck me. I needed to tell Ann. Now.

"Mistress?"

She stirred slightly and I felt her lips brush my spine. "Yes, love?"

"I ... I need you at my side. Please. I want ... no, I need to know that you're with me. And what you want me to do needs to make sense. Then I'm sure I can do more than I thought possible myself."

She remained silent for some time and if I hadn't known better I might have thought that she had fallen asleep. But she hadn't. She moved her fingers inside me and breathed down my neck until she was ready to answer.

Ann

It was late, my girl was very tired, but sometimes answers can't wait. Holding her in my arms, two fingers nestled inside her warmth, her head on my shoulder as I kissed her neck and let my thumb trace endless aimless spirals on her mons, I answered.

"I understand my love, and I will never let you out of my control, my care, but that does not mean I'll always be with you, or even in the same room, not because I don't care, not because I don't understand your needs, simply because I won't make you a promise I can't keep." I could feel her body tense up. "But..." I paused to kiss her neck again, "what I can promise you is that whatever we do, wherever we go, no matter who else is present, nothing will happen that is not of my design. Your safety is paramount and I will never risk anything harming you, I promise."

For a while she lay tense in my arms, her body pressed against mine, safe in my arms as she thought about my answer. I'm not sure which of us fell asleep first, but later, deep in the night I awoke, my girl still in my arms, my fingers still buried in her warmth, but now her hand was holding mine in place, I kissed her neck and drifted back to sleep, my mind full of my girl, my slave, my love.

Although we had a late night, something usually reserved for weekends, we both woke early. Sharing a shower seemed the perfect way to start a new day, for once without it dissolving into passionate love making or lusty fucking. My girl headed for the kitchen, body dry, hair still damp from the shower, my eyes following her perfect ass, as she walked away, leaving me to dress for the day before joining her in the kitchen for an early breakfast. Time to answer her questions more fully.

We sat opposite each other, Zoe deep into her largest coffee mug whilst I sipped at my own mug, the first EG of the day. "To answer your first question, a submissive is not a slave, a slave is always a submissive. The way the two are defined varies, but for us, only my interpretation matters." I could so easily have become distracted, just the sight of her nipples crinkling as they swelled... "By definition a sub submits, most often their submission is limited by work, family, circumstances, their needs and desires, they submit to their Dominant when it is convenient, and in the ways and manner they choose. Such behaviour does not devalue their submission, it is just how they express it, by choice or necessity." Now it was not her nipples but her eyes that threatened to distract me...

"A slave is a little different, not in what they do as such, but because they remain submissive to their Dominant, at home, at work, in every way, their Dominant has absolute power over every part of their lives. That does not mean the power is exercised, but it is there none the less." Reaching out I took my girl's hand in my own. "Understand?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"No questions ... Thoughts... ?"

"Yes, I understand the difference. What I don't understand is what I am. You, you call me slave, yet by your definition I'm not." My girl paused, a loving smile spreading out, matching the look in her eyes. "Or am I wrong here but haven't noticed yet?"

"I call you my slave because that is what you are, what you will be, mine. Just as I am yours, your Mistress."

Zoe paused before replying, obviously ordering her thoughts. When she answered, her voice was low, regretful, her eyes darting away, unable to hold my gaze. "I 'm not sure whether I can do that, Mistress. Or whether I want that."

For a moment I pictured her walking away, driven to leave by my words, my needs, but only for a moment, the image too terrible to consider, yet nothing could make me hide the truth, I required honesty so I in turn had to be honest. "You can do it, because you are already doing it, as to whether you want it, that only you can decide ... But before you do, you need to understand it, and I need to explain it."

"Yes, please do, Mistress."

"I know it sounds like being a kind of prisoner, like you are giving up everything, but that is not what it is, not at all, it's really about freedom." I smiled, my girl was once again looking directly into my eyes. "When I tied you up in the Dungeon, did you not feel a certain freedom? As if by binding you I had taken away your need to control yourself, leaving you free to feel everything, react to everything, without holding back... ?"

"Yes, it did feel ... Liberating. But ... You can't 'bind' me all the time, like when I'm at work."

"No of course not, nor would I want to, but at work, right now, you feel the pendant, you wear it because I put it there, I locked the chain about your waist." My girl smiled at my words, one hand reaching down beneath the table no doubt to touch the pendant. "There is a difference between having power and using it. The difference is love, caring, wanting you to grow and be happy, protected, loved. But most of all it is trust, trust borne of love."

Her hand lifted, reaching out now with both hands placed in my own, as if drawing something from me, or perhaps returning it. "OK, I think I understand now. And I think I shouldn't worry too much whether I'm a slave or a submissive. Just do my best." Zoe stood up and leant across the table to kiss me. "Do my best and love you."

Her lips pressed against mine, part offering, part melting need. We kissed for a long moment, just lips, just love.

"And I love you ... my slave." I replied as our lips finally parted, the kiss broken, but our bond strengthened. I smiled as I spoke, rising up to move around the table and take my girl in my arms. "It's time you dressed, my sweet, we both have a busy day ahead, I will see you at the Studio later, for now..." I had been cupping her perfect ass in my right hand, now I lifted my hand and brought it back down, a single spank that drove my girl deeper into my embrace, I knew without looking that the evidence would not soon fade, I smiled wickedly. "A little something to remind you that you are my slave and my love, and that there are degrees of freedom."

A final kiss and my girl spun in my arms and hurried away, her perfect ass swaying just a little more than usual, drawing my eye as always, her message quite clear, as clear as the outline of my hand.

We left the house together, walking hand in hand until our paths split, a last kiss, my girl's taste in my lips, the perfect way to start the day. I glanced back, blind to everything but that perfect ass, the way it swayed, just a little more than usual...

Arriving at the gallery I flipped the sign from 'Open' to 'Closed' and headed for Dee who was sitting behind the counter, her eyes widening as I approached, not a single word as I took her arm and marched her away down the corridor to the studio, my Dungeon.

"Sit." I commanded as I released her arm. "Stay."

Without a word I left, Dee's eyes following me, for once unsure of just why I was apparently so angry.

Back in the gallery I flipped the sign back to 'Open' and settled myself behind the counter. I did not have long to wait. Bella arrived in a whirl of raindrops, slipping off her long coat before bending forward, eyes asking permission, her kiss on my cheek, her voice soft, warm. "Thank you."

"She's in my Dungeon, wondering why I'm so angry with her. Take your time, try not to smash the place. Don't you dare come back until it's settled ... Either of you. Now go... !!"

Eager eyes flashing, Bella twirled away along the corridor, the big double doors slamming behind her, the lock clicked, bright girl, she was taking no chances.

Picking up the phone I dialled the first number, it was going to be a long day, a lot to arrange and organise, Dee was right, I was angry, but not at her, at the text I had received on my way to the gallery. A deep breath, voice level, I spoke into the phone, absorbed in my work, whilst down the corridor the big thick doors guarded the mayhem within.

When two people want each other, are drawn to each other, yet neither dare make a decisive move, the conflict can tear them apart, I cared for Dee too much to watch her agony any longer, my call to Bella yesterday was my way of forcing them both to confront their desires. What happened next was up to them.

Bella's visits had started often, a result of her natural exuberance as much as her need, then they became more infrequent as the initial excitement wore off and the demands of her family and studies increased, more recently the frequency had begun a slow but steady increase, her needs growing along with her attraction to Dee.

I had long ago set limits on just what I was prepared to do with Bella, limits designed to protect her, mind and body, I was happy to use her, both as a model and as a girl, our sessions mutually beneficial, but there are consequences for indulging with the intensity that Bella craved. However skilfully the whip is used, too much too often will leave marks, not because the skin is broken, but because the bodies capacity to heal has limits, and repeated whippings will in time leave their mark. I willingly hurt her, but I refused to allow that hurt to become harm, no matter how much she craved more than I judged safe. Her problem was the duality between being Isabella the prim and proper young lady and Bella, the nympho-pixie, two extremes, no middle-ground.