Unspoken Pleasure

Without even thinking I leaned forward and opened my mouth. She pulled her finger back a bit, although her scent still lingered just above my nose. “Beg to suck my finger,” she ordered.

Again I should have prevented this; should have halted my humiliating fall, but all I wanted was to suck her finger, to taste her juice. “Karen, may I please lick your finger?”

“Are you sure you want to?” she questioned, the sticky, fragrant finger just poised there in front of me.

Each question weakened my resolve a bit further, “Yes.”

“Yes what?” she asked.

“Yes, I don’t know… Karen?” I replied, unsure what she wanted me to say.

She explained, “As soon as your mouth touches my finger, you are mine. I will become your Mistress and you will become my slut… my cunt… my lez. Is that understood?”

The harsh reality she was presenting to me had me reconsidering my desire to submit to her. I was not a lesbian! And certainly not a cunt! While I pondered this, she dipped her finger back in her cunt, recoating her fingers with her juice. She brought it to my lips and explained, raising the temptation tenfold, “Just to give you another hint of what you’ll be missing if you decline.”

As soon as her finger touched my lips, I extended my tongue and tasted the forbidden nectar. I didn’t know what I thought it would taste like, but one taste and I craved more. I leaned forward to satisfy my craving, but she moved it just out of my reach.

“So you’re ready to submit to me completely?” she asked.

“Yes,” I whimpered without hesitation, my panties now sticky with my own fluid.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Mistress,” I announced, officially committing myself to a commitment I didn’t yet completely comprehend.

She rewarded me by placing her finger to my lips. “Good slut, now clean my finger.”

I obeyed, eagerly, like a puppy being rewarded for doing a trick. I savoured her juice, using my lips and tongue to get every drop of it from her finger.

Once I was done, she asked, “Do you want some directly from the source, Jenny’s Mommy?”

Tossing in my daughter’s name was obviously being used to shame me even more, but I was in way too deep to back out now. My eyes stared at the wet, shining pussy directly in front of me. “Yes, Mistress,” I submitted.

Karen repositioned herself so her pussy was perched at the lip of the chair and only inches away from my face. “Do you like what you see?” she teased.

“Yes, Mistress,” I responded, a slight moan escaping me.

“Are you wet, slut?” she questioned.

Humiliated, I nodded my head in the affirmative.

“Give me your panties,” she demanded, before adding, “actually, get naked, slut.”Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

Mortified, I stood up, pulled open my robe and allowed it to drop to the floor. Wearing only my nightie and panties, I felt so vulnerable! No one had seen me naked since my husband passed. I trembled like a drug addict going too long without a fix as I struggled to get my nightie over my head. Once I was wearing only my panties, I hesitated, a bundle of nerves.

“The panties too, slave,” turning her chair to face my new location.

This newest word, ‘slave’, provoked extra leakage to dampen my panties for some unfathomable reason. I was willing to be her slave? I knew that I already was, so I obeyed and handed her my panties. “Holy shit, slut, you’re soaking wet! Why?”

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly, standing naked and horny in my own kitchen.

“Don’t you?” she teased, tugging down on my hand, indicating I should fall back onto my knees. Once I was there again in this submissive position, my eyes on the same level as her cunt, she added, “I think you know exactly why you’re wet. You want to be my slut, a lesbian sub just like your daughter. You’re in exactly the same position your precious little dyke daughter was just a few days ago… on her knees between my legs in this very house just before you rushed upstairs to ‘rescue’ her. Are you ready to submit completely?”

“Yes, Mistress, I’ll do anything,” I admitted, trying to ignore the humiliation I felt from the reality she kept reminding me I was in.

“I like that. I like that answer very much,” she purred. “Go ahead slut, taste your prize.”

I leaned forward, full of trepidation, very slowly. The closer I got to her wet cunt, the more intoxicated I got from the scent alone. Finally, after almost forty years of life I was tasting my first pussy, and as soon as I did I knew there was no turning back. I licked slowly at first, but once her pussy got wetter from my tongue and the juices began to leak, I became determined to coax out more and more of her juice. I licked and I sucked. I probed her pussy lips with my tongue, penetrating her moist depths with my tongue, wanting nothing more than to bury myself inside this fragrant and tasty cunt. Her whimpers became moans, and after a few minutes of random licking and sucking, I felt her hand pressing on the back of my head, pulling me in deeper. I was soon rewarded for my eagerness with an explosion of her cum coating my mouth, lips and nose. She held my face tight against her pussy till long after her orgasm had subsided. Once done, she praised me, “Well, you are an eager little beaver, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Mistress,” I replied, oddly thrilled by her approval, my face now sticky with her cum.

“Crawl up to your bedroom, slut, we’re just getting started,” she ordered me.

My pussy tingled in anticipation of the further pleasure I desperately craved. I dropped onto all fours like a dog and began crawling upstairs to my room like a puppy, humiliation and desire tearing me apart while she followed me.