Dear Mistress,
I am sure you are relieved to have that ordeal over – the family onslaught was undertaken with style, bad vibes were repulsed (other than my mother’s indignation about the absence of her cranberry sauce and the attempt to serve her smoked rather than baked turkey) and we have lived to eat another day. Next year, please tell me we will spend the Day in our undisclosed location.
Because of all the prep, social time, and resulting full stomachs we did not get our normal dose of extravagant sex. Though our morning activity – you tied to the soon to be crowded dining room table, for spanks and some fucking from behind -was a moment to remember. And we have photos to prove it. ( an assist to the girls for being out for the evening and allowing us free run of the house).
But that got me thinking this morning about our conversation concerning an imaginary Thanksgiving, maybe next year, when the venue changes.
In this imaginary Thanksgiving dinner we are with friends in our favorite town out west, in a rambling home (think T and J’s Christmas Party). AS the evening devolves with drinking and smoking, the guests get increasingly frank and uninhibited.
We are seated with a couple we have not met before. He is in his early 50’s, a doctor from California. Grey hair, tall, athletic. There for the skiing. We’ll call him Ben.
She seems about 10-15 years younger. Relatively short dress for this town. Long, dark hair. Attractive. Lets call her Alisa.
You observe and interesting dynamic. She seems very, shall we say, attentive. Fetching him drinks. Filling his plate. You saw her sitting at his feet, leaning against his thigh earlier in the evening during the night’s entertainment, as he stroked her neck. And then there is a silver piece of jewelry around her neck, secured by a tiny lock. A collar?
Of course, I am deferential as well, enjoying my secret role as your slave, and wearing the cock ring that makes me semi-hard as a matter of course. Did they hear me slip when I called you “Mistress” at dinner?
And you heard her call him “Sir”, as in “Yes, Sir, I am happy to get you another glass of wine.”
You notice this couple discretely head to a farther wing of the house. Excusing yourself with a “back in a moment, slave”, you discretely follow, curious and certainly attracted to this handsome fellow with a strange air of authority. Walking down a quiet hallway you notice a door ajar, As you peer into the room, you see darkened figures lit by candle light. Ben sitting on the bed. Alisa on her knees, hands bound by something behind her back, head bobbing up and down on his hardened cock.
Whether your gasp comes involuntarily, or because you want to be discovered is unclear. But they turn to you with surprise at first. Then Ben raises his eyebrows. “ Jennifer, why am I not surprised to see you. You’ve been curious about us all night, haven’t you? Come in and close that door.”
Part of you wants to turn tail and flee. But the sudden flood in your cunt says otherwise. Heart racing, you enter, closing and locking the door behind you.
“Come here”, he orders, and you follow his indication to stand in front of him as Alisa shuffles aside, still on her knees.
“Cross your wrists behind your back”. You do as he says, not sure why.
You are wearing a loose fitting black dress, boots and black tights. Now you feel his hand on the inside of your thigh, just above your knee, a finger slightly stroking the fabric of your tights, sending vibrations straight to your clit.
“I was watching you too, you know. You seem to play the Mistress with that husband of yours. But I think I know your type – a closet sub desperate for someone to take you in hand. Am I right?”
“You’re crazy” you say, mustering with as much haughty as you can muster under the circumstances.
“We’ll see”, he laughs. You eye his cock, still hard, protruding from his pants. Interested.
He directs Alisa to stand and turn around. You are bereft as he moves his hand from the point on your thigh that seemed to be on fire. He quickly unties the piece of rope binding her wrists. “Tie her” he commands.
You let out a little gasp and shudder as she wraps the ropes around your still crossed wrists, pulling them tight. Why are you submitting to this, you ask yourself. Losing control of the situation very quickly.
As she was tying you, his hand crept back up the inside of your thigh, distracting you, making it impossible to resist as the ropes tightened.
“She very good at that”, he says. “Try to get loose”. You are not sure you want to, but, sure enough, your wrists are now inseparable. The discovery sends another flood of arousal through you. Or is it his fingers, which have found the panel of your tights at your crotch. Your knees wobble, so quickly on the verge of coming, but he pulls his hands away. “Not so quickly, ‘Mistress’”, he says, voice dripping sarcasm, and pulls his hand away.
“Alisa dear, please pull down Jennifer’s tights and panties. “ You feel her hands yank them down over the tops of your boots.
Your legs are wobble again and he pulls you toward him, over his lap. You can feel his cock against your side as he pulls your dress up, exposing the soft skin of your firm ass.
“Nice” he says, his hand exploring you.
“Alisa, please hand me your panties”. She makes a little show of it for you, as she squirms out of her dark blue, damp thong. He first puts it to his nose to appreciate. Then to yours. You discover the musky scent of her arousal.
“See what you interrupted”, he observes. Then jams the crumpled thong into your open mouth. “Can’t have you disturbing the other guests, can we?” You no longer have the free will to spit her panties out. Instead you suck on the sodden panties, lost in the feeling of his hand on your ass.
“Of course, you understand that snoops need to be punished, don’t you, ‘Mistress’. He seems to want an answer, so you mumble “Yes, Sir” through Alisa’s crumpled panties.
His hand smacks your butt. Again and again. At first it was tolerable. But each slap becomes more painful, and exciting . Soon you are squirming on his lap, tears flowing, your wrists twisting against his rope, desperate to be free. Hoping he will never let you go.
You loose track of the blows, but at some point they are replaced by his warm hand between your thighs, a thumb easily sliding into your flooded cunt. Fingers teasing your clit, and almost immediately you come hard, long, with an urgency that stuns you. He just chuckles. “You are a very hot one, Jennifer”, he says. “I look forward to your further training”.
Before you are done he makes sure you suck his cock, as Alisa watches. And you also kneel to taste her cunt too. She relishes the opportunity to come against your face, her hands buried in your hair.
Then they untie you, help you straighten your cloths. Each kisses you goodbye. He slides his card into your purse, with instructions to report to them for further training the next evening. He does not bother to ask. It’s a command. And you know you will report there when ordered.
“Bring the slave, if he’s the type who likes to see his ‘Mistress’ submit to a more powerful Master. “Oh, he is” you say, before returning to the party to fill me in on the details.
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