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Life had been a struggle raising two children while working my way up the male corporate ladder. My handsome husband of twenty plus years had settled nicely into his boring job with surprising contentment. Not me, I wanted more but the price of success had not come cheap.
Obviously, the more time I spent at the office the less time I spent with my husband. Not that our sexual antics were all that satisfying to begin with, but they evolved into a mechanical once-a-month chore!
The years passed quickly and in a blink of the eye, our girls were off to college. We were now empty-nesters. I stayed in the corporate rat-race and Doug was still plugging along in his boring job. At forty-nine I was becoming pre-menopausal and for some reason felt desperate. I wanted to experience passion, sexual passion again. Our married sex-life was non-existent and I felt cheated. Cheated out of what, I was not even sure of at this point. I just felt the desire to explore, remembering those days back at university.
I had attended State University and was paired-up with Rita Moran as my roommate in my freshman year. I can still see her pretty round face and short blonde hair. She was the proverbial Daisy Dukes of campus along with her wacky personality and country pranks. She was a man magnet the way she dressed with her short shorts hugging her round little buttocks. It was comical how the guys were oblivious to Rita’s secret side. She was a closet lesbian into the BDSM lifestyle. As for myself, I had had a boyfriend and worked by way through my first sexual experience, but I really enjoyed masturbation more and so I wasn’t on the hunt for another guy or a relationship. That is when I discovered Rita.
Early in the first semester, I was sitting at my desk, intently writing away when Rita slowly snuck up behind me. Suddenly, I felt two small hands grabbing my large breasts from behind.
With a scream, I jumped up, off my seat, spinning around to see Rita with a big smile on her face. She began tickling me until I fell back onto the bed. Rita did not let up, she continued dancing her fingers up and down and across my quivering body. The more she played the more excited I got. Soon I was covered in goose bumps and my sex was alive with tingles.
“Like that do you, Lisa?” She teased rolling me over onto my stomach.
My face muffled in the pillow I screamed back, “No, stop! I’m going to wet myself!”
“Now, that’s not a bad thing, is it?” Rita giggled, swatting my up-turned ass.
Suddenly, my body exploded in fireworks. I was wetting myself all right but it wasn’t urine. I had just experienced my first orgasm at the hands of another woman. My entire body flushed. I was trying to understand when Rita flipped me over and planted her lips tightly against my closed mouth. Her tongue was forcing its way between my lips.
Jerking away, struggling to get out from under her I yelled, “What are you doing?”
Rita slowly stood up, gently wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and gave me a wink before heading to the bathroom.
I just laid there, my body still tingling. Even though the experience repulsed me at first, the more I lay there feeling my body, the more aroused I became. I finally masturbated, fantasizing about Rita while she watched from the bathroom door. We looked each other in the eye. I continued to finger myself as she moved toward me, taking off her panties. Before I could object, the panties were forced in my mouth. I climaxed with incredible intensity while Rita watched; I hardly understood my arousal to humiliation and spanking.
The roughhousing, then sexual play afterwards secretly continued throughout our freshman year. Rita’s girlish spanks graduated into dominating full-blown, bare-assed spankings and I loved them! I never viewed myself as a submissive or a lesbian but I thoroughly enjoyed the company and dominance of hot little Rita. Her wild side distracted me from being so serious all the time.
Then, at the end of the year, Rita decided to attend a different college. I was devastated and pleaded with her to stay but she cast me off like garbage. It took months to recover. Eventually I met an ordinary man that loved me. Those early lesbian experiences were left to memory.
Yet, secretly, I longed to return to those sexually charged college days. I would linger in bed, after Doug left, and soothe my sex, thinking of how I’d love to kiss Rita again. After masturbation no longer satisfied my needs, I knew I had to act.
Several months ago, on a whim, I began answering ads on the internet of women who offered to spank other women. I went to one meeting where I was spanked over the knee by a strong athletic woman in her 30s. It didn’t have that great of effect on me and I ended by going to the bathroom to masturbate. I didn’t give up but contacted another woman who advertised herself as a mistress who helped middle-aged women to sexually experiment. After a few emails, I ended up talking by phone with a Mrs. Ankara escort Tessle. Then, after several conversations, I was satisfied that she could help me.
Leaving work early, I had butterflies in my stomach as I drove over to Mrs. Tessle’s house. I’d taken special care that morning to put talc on my pussy and to wear a new pair of stockings with suspenders. I worried about what to wear, finally choosing a white push-up bra and full paneled panties. I felt I was fat and I wanted to hide my tummy. Looking at myself in the mirror, I laughed. Given my celluloid, my bulges and large breasts, I didn’t look beautiful at forty-nine, but I was real and that is all that mattered. To my surprise a beautiful large black woman opened the door slightly with a silent smile, motioning for me to enter. I brushed past her, my breasts grazing hers as I entered. My heart was pounding with anticipation as well as fear. She abruptly closed the door behind me, fastening the deadbolt before turning to face me. “Have you come to be dominated completely?” She asked in a stern voice.
“Yes,” I nodded timidly, not really sure of what I was letting myself in for.
“Then, walk down the hallway and turn into the first doorway on the left.” She ordered. With reluctance, I slowly walked down the dimly lit hallway, looking side to side, viewing photographs of half-naked woman adorning her walls while feeling her eyes surveying my trembling frame as I shuffled along. I felt her warmth behind me as I slowly turned into the room before a pang of shock overcame me. “Go stand before the mirror… Now!” She ordered. “Lift up your skirt!”
It felt stupid to hold my skirt up while another woman gazed at my underwear. She walked around me several times increasing the tension every time, and, to my surprise, my lust. I was hoping to find out why intimidation and humiliation made me so horny.
I jumped as Mrs. Tessle slapped my bum and massaged my buttocks while I tried to stand still. I felt her eyes gaze at my 36C breasts and down at my panties and stockings. Not having been touched in a long time by another woman, her hand felt good as she grabbed each globe of my ass as if to measure them in her hand. I flexed my ass, proud of its firmness. The black woman squeezed harder as she felt me tense my buttocks.
“I don’t like you wearing your panties over your garter belt and suspenders. Take them off and change them, please,” she barked.
“You mean, here?” I asked incredulously.
“Yes. Please do it now!”
“I don’t think I … . I mean I never exposed myself to any one. I feel too …,” I mumbled my response as I stood there stupidly, still raising my skirt for inspection.
Before I could finish, I felt a hard slap against my ass and then an arm twirled me around violently. Next I felt the black woman hand slap my face, stinging my cheek.
“I’m not anyone. I’m your Mistress. You will do as I say or you can leave and never come back, you ungrateful bitch.”
Tears welled in my eyes. I didn’t know if I could do what she asked. I thought for a moment realizing that I was still wearing a skirt that would hide my sex as I obeyed her command.
I let my skirt down, feeling embarrassed to have to pull down my panties in front of a stranger. Turning away from the black woman, I put my hands under my skirt and unfastened my garters. I slipped the white panties off, being sure to hide my large mound of pubic hair. The panties fell to my ankles. The swoosh of cool air felt good against my crotch as I refastened the garters and pulled my panties back into place over my suspenders. Finished, I lifted my skirt again.
She then pulled out a thick marking pen and I could feel her write something on my panties over my bum. When she finished she wrote several words on the front panel of my panties. Done writing, I felt her fingers massage the gusset of my panties several times, startled that I would allow another woman to do such a thing to me. But I couldn’t deny I enjoyed the tingles it sent through my body. The more she humiliated me, the hornier I felt.
“Read what I’ve written, Lisa.”
I hobbled to a full-length mirror near the door. In large black letters she had written “ass bitch” over the back panel of my white panties and “slut” and “Mommy whore” over the front. The sight of the words sent an entire range of feelings through my body, from revulsion to warm-fuzzy love.
I was still looking at myself in the mirror when Mistress told me to put my skirt down.
Her demeanor changed immediately. She invited me into the kitchen for tea as if she was my neighbor.
“We’re going to have tea first. When we’re in the kitchen you can call me Ann and we’ll talk like equals, but once I give you the cue, you will become my bitch, and refer to me as Mistress. Do you understand?”
I nodded with a weak smile, happy to put my skirt down.
Once in the kitchen, we sat in your little breakfast nook. Ann’s smile returned and she began talking about Ankara escort bayan her daughter who was in college. In minutes, we were chatting away about the cost of tuition and the difficulties of kids in college. I told Ann about my daughter who was just finishing graduate school. Soon, I felt completely relaxed and at ease. All the tension and fear had disappeared. I had almost forgotten why I’d come to see Ann. It was then that I recognized how pretty she was with a hint of elegance to her movements and style.
When there was a lull in the conversation, the black woman stood up and her smile vanished.
“It’s time to get started, Lisa,” she said losing her smile. “Please follow all the rules. From now on I’m to be addressed as Mistress and I will be your sole master for the next hour. I will take pictures, but not of your face. This is part of your submission. Stand up and turn around.”
I stood up immediately and turned my back to the black woman. Opening a drawer she withdrew a two-inch red ball gag, a thick black collar and a paper form and pen.
“It’s quite unsettling to wear a gag for the first time, but I can guarantee the experience will be pleasurable. You are going to drool a lot, but that is normal. After you’re wearing this new accessory, all I want to hear are your grunts and moans. Do you understand?”
“Huh, huh,” was all I could mumble.
Almost, automatically, without needing to be told, I opened my mouth as Mrs. Tessle threw the straps of the gag over my head and placed the ball in my mouth. She placed it carefully, making sure that I was biting down on the top of the red ball. She fastened the strap under my hair. The smell of her closeness and her confident movements around my body immediately aroused me. In minutes the gag collar were on.
I can’t believe how easily I succumbed to this, my voice being taken away. I felt sweat on my forehead but also my nipples were tingling and there was an urgency in my crotch, as my pussy began to sexually awaken. Standing docile in the kitchen, I waited for the next command.
“Sign the release form,” she commanded. I was nervous, read the form, and signed, allowing her to take pictures, but not of my face.
“Oh, one more thing, positions,” she continued in her professional voice, “The standard position is the dog. When I command it, you drop to all fours like a dog.” She went on to describe the half-dog (elbows flat on floor), the stretching-dog (arms out and head down) as well as the wall or chair dog (leaning on a wall or chair).
“All the positions are meant to expose your ass to me. In the dog position, I like to see the ass thrust up into the air. “Here,” she continued, “look at these pictures.”
Mrs. Tessle pulled a photo album from a drawer. We stood at the counter looking at photographs of women in all sorts of servile positions; all I could see was their asses fully exposed as they knelt on the floor or bed, or leaned against a wall. I couldn’t see any faces just asses of all sizes, with brown, puckered assholes staring me in the face. I couldn’t believe that a woman’s ass could be such a sexual object until I remembered looking at Rita’s ass sometimes and wanting to kiss it.
“Do you understand?” she sternly asked.
I nodded, biting the ball filling my mouth.
“You have a beautiful ass. It isn’t normal for you to want your ass stimulated before sex but that is my job, to turn your ass into another pleasure palace for you. Now, on your knees. Full dog,” she barked.
I didn’t move quickly, and felt a heavy hand slap against my ass. I quickly lowered myself to the floor.
“Good, bitch,” Mrs. Tessle replied. “Let’s go for a walk.”
I walked as best I could behind the black woman as she stepped through her living and dining rooms. The rooms weren’t carpeted so my knees quickly began to hurt. I was also worried about my stocking, not wanting to put a hole in them.
Mrs. Tessle had me stop in front of a low mirror. I gazed at my face with its red ball in my mouth. The black woman then reached under my skirt and massaged my crotch; I could feel her fingers press against my vulva. I couldn’t believe how aroused I was and I wanted her to stimulate me. I was also shocked that I was actually submitting myself to this behavior.
Mrs. Tessle ordered me to keep walking on all fours. Once in the bedroom, I thought it was time to stand up and to face Mrs. Tessle. Spinning around quickly I didn’t have time to turn away as her hand slapped me in the face. My one cheek stung with pain as she slapped me again on the other. It was obvious I had stood up without a command and kept my head too high. I quickly began looking at the floor, unsure if I could continue this.
“Hurry up and undress bitch,” she ordered in a strict deep voice, “we’ve got work to do.”
I took off my jacket and skirt, staring into the distance as Mrs. Tessle stood in front of me. She had a stern face of impatience as I unfastened my buttons, zipper Escort Ankara and slipped off the clothes. Looking at the floor, I threw the clothes on the back of a red blush chair.
Soon I was standing in front of Mrs. Tessle dressed only in my bra, panties, stockings and garter belt—as well as the collar. My head was lowered and I stared at the floor unable to take my eyes off the beautiful figure of the black woman before me.
Mrs. Tessle walked around me, gazing at my submissive body. I felt stupid with words like “ass bitch,” “slut,” and “Mommy whore” written on my underwear but her staring only aroused me more. Stopping in front of me, she took her pen and taking one of my breasts in her hand, writing, “bitch tit” over the bra cup. On the other she wrote, “bitch nip.” I squirmed slightly, feeling her touch my bosom. I should have known better than to move. Her slap struck me sharply across the face. She grabbed the cups of my bra and shook me.
“Can’t you even stand still, bitch?” she yelled, in a controlled strict voice.
By this time my nipples were hardening and I could feel Mrs. Tessle’s thumbs rub over the crests of the bra, feeling for my rising tits. She looked me in the eye, embarrassing me.
Her hand then slipped over my tummy, feeling the front of the white satin panties, just above where she’d written “my pussy” in black letters above my crotch. I twitched at the warmth and strength of her hand. It was obvious to her how aroused I was becoming.
I knew what she was thinking as her hand pressed against my navel. At my age, my stomach has a bit of sag and my full brief hides the bulge. Well, she was right. I was self-conscious about my weight and she decided to humiliate me a little with it.
“You’re putting on weight, bitch,” Mrs. Tessle said in a quiet factual way.
“Huh huh,” I muttered through the gag.
“But you’ve still got a great ass and set of legs,” she said admiringly.
Through the gag, I mumbled: “Thank you, Mistress.”
“We’ve just had tea and you’ve probably got to pee, don’t you?” she asked without emotion. “I want you in the dog position and you’ll walk on all fours into the bathroom.”
She paused for a moment, before she continued, seeing the anxiety in my eyes. “I know you’ve never done this before. You’ll enjoy it as long as you keep aroused and thinking of your orgasm.” Her hand then grabbed the crotch of my panties and rubbed it. I was very surprised because her hand felt good. To my surprise again, I automatically bent my knees, indicating that I accepted her touch and wanted more. I could hardly believe my reaction.
“Have you been aroused since you arrived?” she asked.
I nodded, knowing that I best tell the truth. Her hand still stroked my panties, filling me with growing arousal and sexual warmth.
“Since you masturbate a lot, you probably cum easy but this time, remember, I’ll doing the stimulation and bring you to climax. Your job is just to keep focused on your orgasm. I don’t want you touching your cunt.”
I liked her free use of dirty terms. Her hand rubbed my crotch hard. I loved her strength and firmness against my damp panties as she pressed the fabric into my vaginal lips. It wasn’t her hand that stimulated me so much as it was the idea of her doing so openly, and me standing there submissively.
She then guided me to the floor, and soon I was on all fours and waited for the command to go. When I heard it, I crawled into the nearby bathroom. I stood up only long enough to pull down my white panties before I sat on the toilet looking at the floor.
I could hear Mrs. Tessle doing something in the next room; within seconds she appeared with arms folded, leaned against the doorframe and watched me. I sat on the toilet in shock. There was a huge tent in her soft black velour slacks. She must have put on a dildo. Mrs. Tessle stood there so confident and domineering. The large gong thrusting from her black slacks made her look more stern and manly. She acted as if nothing had happened.
“Open your legs, bitch,” she said quickly, “don’t hide anything from me.”
She saw the desperation in my eyes as I sat there fully exposed. I’d never exhibited my nudity so brazenly like this before. Physically, I was embarrassed because I have a large mound of black pubic hair. Being older and hairy, I had a lot of issues around my body image—my pubic hair was one of them. Looking up I saw her step forward and gently brush the long dildo under her sweat pants against my cheek. I closed my eyes and thought about what this woman was doing to me, and how my embarrassment triggered my sexual lust. “Lets hear you pee,” came the next command in a maternal voice.
I was immediately grateful for her gentleness but I felt stupid as I felt the first dribble of pee leave my urethra. Mrs. Tessle let the dildo stroke my face. I became self-conscious as I peed. I never peed in front of any one before. My face turned redder than it already was from the slapping.
“Straighten your back and spread your legs,” Mrs. Tessle gave the command with confidence but gentleness.
I did so, forcing my bosom out and exposing my bare womanhood as my golden stream flowed noisily into the toilet.
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