Category Archives: Fantasy

30 Days of Kink: Day 14

Time to start checking off items on my List Of Unfinished Projects!

Oddly enough, as I browsed some of my earlier entries in 30 Days of Kink, I’ve found that my opinions have changed. One fun (read: annoying) part of my personality is that I will argue adamantly about my opinion, so fucking sure of myself, and then a week or two later I switch directions and change my damn mind.

Whatever. I like Day 14′s question, so here we go!

Day 14: How would you say real life BDSM/kink varies from fantasy BDSM/kink? 

I was riding him one afternoon, and he was exploring a fantasy to get me off.

“Maybe you’d like to find a house, with seven guys, and be their sex slave…have them control you, tie you down, use your body…”

I came immediately, then paused, thought for a moment, and replied, “Huh. I bet I could make that happen.”

“Uh, maybe not such a good idea.”

-

Fantasy and reality are obviously separate realms. For some people, this is a Very Good Thing. If Johnny imagines fucking sheep while he’s whacking off, good for him. If Johnny fucks a sheep, he’s raping a creature who cannot provide consent, and bad on him.

Safety-wise, handing myself over to a frat house and becoming their sex slave? Unwise. Jilling off to the idea? Awesome.
An aside: a couple months ago I actually got a message from a guy, at a frat house, and they wanted a sex slave. Sigh.

So, there’s the morality, there’s the safety, and then there’s also the logistical battle, which trips up newbies.

No one can be a Master/Mistress all day, every day. No one can be a slave all day, every day. It’s just impossible, because life happens. Unless the two partners have an extreme difference in financial and educational backgrounds (in which case I’d guess that delving into a D/s relationship is sketch, to say the least), the ‘sub’ half is going to occasionally disagree with the ‘Dom’, and there will be fights, there will be sickness and injury, there will be a million instances in which relying on the power dynamic is not only inappropriate, but useless. Two people in a long-term relationship will operate as peers for the majority of their time together (even if the relationship is outlined such a way that one person is ‘in charge’).

Beyond morality, safety, and logistics, we have desires.

Do I desire to be a slave? Nope. Not even a little bit. I’ve identified as a slave before, I’ve done the M/s thing, I’m no longer into it, thankyou. I certainly fantasize about it, however. I’m writing a short story about a young woman who agrees to be a live-in-housekeeper and sex slave for two smokin’ hot men. The idea of that? SO FUCKING HOT. A reality of that?

Hmm. I just had to pause because, again, that sounds so fucking hot. But no. Not a good idea for reality. :) Maybe for a weekend. Or a month.

A-hem, anyway. All these things: morality, safety, logistics, and our long-term desires, they separate fantasy from reality.

BUT: This doesn’t mean that many fantasies can’t become reality.

The majority of my fantasies fall into the ‘Okay To Try Out’ category, and fuck if I’m going to sit around and avoid making them happen. Many of my fantasies have happened, and reality delivers. Is the outcome what I expect? Sometimes. Sometimes reality is better, sometimes it’s disappointing.

I don’t want to look back on my life and think, “Man, I should’ve really tried getting spanked hard and then nailed in the ass, now I’ll never know what that feels like.”

I love exploring my sexuality, and sharing it with people I trust. Turning fantasies into realities is like a freakin’ hobby to me, at this point. :) One of the keys is expectations–being honest that reality will not always live up to our fantasy, and that’s perfectly okay. Because sometimes, reality not only lives up to fantasy, but it trumps the fuck out of our expectations and we end up a quivering pile of post-orgasm mess, barely able to move around the sweaty sheets, completely exhausted and surprised.

And that’s fun.

xoxo
Sadey

p.s. More 30 Days posts here. 

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Two Nights With Mistress Tracy (Part 8)

Continued from Two Nights With Mistress Tracy (Part 7)

Just joining? Start with Two Nights With Mistress Tracy (Part 1)

Pam crawled between my legs and, with zero hesitation, dove in to pleasure my pussy. I looked to Mistress Tracy who was watching intently.

“She’s obedient,” I said softly, running my hand through Pam’s short brown hair.

“Of course she is,” replied Mistress Tracy. “What would you expect?”

I laid back and enjoyed the licking. I’m wholly against using the word ‘indescribable’ to describe something, because that seems… well, stupid. But fuck. It felt really, really amazing.

And it all went way too fast.

I cried out loudly as I shuddered through one of the most massive orgasms of my life. Pam sat up and looked pleased with herself as she wiped my juices off her face.

My estimation was that I had thirty-eight minutes left to dominate Pam. I honestly didn’t really want to fuck her butt with the strap-on. I’d never been on the giving end of strap-on use before, I’m not that into assholes, and I didn’t want to hurt Pam. But, what Mistress Tracy wants, Mistress Tracy gets. She helped me slip into the harness thing while Pam knelt by our sides and watched. When I looked down at the black dildo that was sticking out just like a hard cock, I felt oddly powerful. I grabbed it and stroked it a few times, somehow thinking that I’d feel pleasure from that action.

But no, the cock was not wired to my clit. I giggled and Mistress Tracy grinned.

“I’ve never done this before,” I told her.

“I know.” She sat back down on the couch, not uttering even one word of advice.

I looked down at Pam who was staring up at me. She looked cute, waiting for me to decide how I’d go about fucking her.

“Um, OK,” I said, dropping to my knees. “Will you get on your hands and knees?”

“Tell her what to do, Sadey,” Mistress Tracy said. “Don’t ask. Tell.”

I took a deep breath. “Get on your hands and knees!” I said loudly, but I didn’t need to. Pam was already putting herself into position beside me.

I slid a finger inside of her pussy—she was wet. I found her clit and circled it with my index finger a few times, making her moan and arch her back.

“Maybe I’ll do her pussy first?” I asked hesitantly, looking over to the couch for support.

“Maybe you will,” said Mistress Tracy.

Pam spread her knees apart a little, and arched her back even more, displaying herself for me. I think she was trying to help move things along. I slid the tip of the dildo inside of her. When there was no resistance, I moved forward until the entire fake cock was buried inside.

I felt triumphant at this point. I grabbed Pam’s hips and held them as I rocked in and out of her and was delighted when she moaned with pleasure.

Mistress Tracy stood up and walked around us. She waved her phone in the air teasingly before snapping a photo.

“For Nate,” she said with a smile. She tossed the phone aside and knelt down behind me. Placing her hands on my hands, she made me tighten my grip on Pam’s thighs. Then, she moved with me, helping me develop a rhythm.

“There you go, just like that,” she said in an uncharacteristically kind tone. She got up and moved back to the couch.

I fucked Pam like that for awhile until her moans told me she was close to climax. Then, pulling out, I smacked her butt, making her yelp.

“I should use lube for her butt, shouldn’t I?” I said, looking to Mistress Tracy.

She shrugged.

“Where is it?”

She shrugged again. Then, rolling her eyes, she said, “I can think of someone who can fetch it for you. Someone who might be motivated to help you find it.”

Oh. Right.

“Pam, go get me some lube,” I said. As an afterthought, I added, “Crawl.”

So Pam scampered away on all fours to fetch the lube.

“I’m terrible at this, aren’t I?” I asked.

“You aren’t a natural, but you’re doing OK.” Mistress Tracy appeared to be enjoying herself immensely.

Pam reappeared with a small bottle of lube in her mouth. I took it from her and she put herself back into position in front of me.

Trying to act assertive, I dribbled a little bit of the lube onto Pam’s asshole and slid my pinkie inside. Just like that–no hesitation on my part. And Pam’s ass easily took my finger.

It felt tight, though. If I’d been in Pam’s place, I would have hoped for some help stretching me out before sticking the dildo in my butt. So, I pulled out my pinkie and replaced it with my index finger.

Pam moaned, and Mistress Tracy smiled.

Then, my index finger and middle finger. I fucked her slowly with two fingers, letting her adjust to the feeling. Pam sort of backed up at that point, trying to get me to fuck her deeper. I’m not sure if she did that consciously or not, but I felt like it was a good sign she was ready.

I coated the dildo with lube and dribbled even more on her anus. Then, taking a deep breath, I placed the tip of the dildo on her butthole and tried to press it inside.

It didn’t go in. Instead, with all that lube, it kept slipping around.

On my third attempt, the head of the dildo entered the target and Pam moaned loudly and winced a little.

I pressed harder, holding her hip with one hand to keep her from moving forward and holding the cock with my other hand.

Pam was taking deep breaths and I know she was trying to relax. Little by little I got the dildo inside of her. When it was a third of the way in, I felt confident it wouldn’t slide out of place, and I put both hands on her hips, pulling her toward me.

Finally, I pushed it all the way inside of her.

“We did it!” I exclaimed, looking to Mistress Tracy for approval.

She shook her head at me. “Fuck her,” she said firmly.

So, I fucked. Somewhat awkwardly, I fucked Pam’s ass with that dildo. I have to say I’m not a strap-on natural, and I was terrified of the damn thing sliding out. I know Pam’s butt would have probably stretched enough to easily take it inside again, but I didn’t want to test those waters.

Pam was moaning, part from pain and I think mostly from pleasure. When I was ‘balls deep’ at one point I paused and reached under her to feel her pussy. She was dripping wet.

When I felt she’d been sufficiently fucked in the ass, I looked to Mistress Tracy for approval to move on to other activities. She shrugged again, and was generally set on not being helpful.

I pulled out of Pam’s butt. “Help me out of this thing,” I said.

She got on her knees beside me. Her face and chest were flushed with her arousal. It took her almost no time at all to help me out of the harness.

“How much time have I got?” I asked Mistress Tracy.

She checked her phone. “Twelve minutes.”

That was nothing!

“Would you like her to lick you while I spank her?”

She smiled. “That sounds nice.”

“Pam, go take off your Mistress’s pants,” I said. My voice was getting… sterner. Nate, you would have been amused.

Mistress Tracy let Pam take off her pants and shoes and she sat on the couch with her legs spread wide.

“Go on, Pam,” I said. “Lick.”

So Pam got in between her legs and began licking. Mistress Tracy placed her hands on Pam’s head and pressed down hard. This caused Pam to make a muffled noise into Mistress Tracy’s cunt which was incredibly sexy.

I got on my knees beside Pam and rubbed her ass for a moment, slipping my hand in between her legs to rub her cunt. She moaned even louder and Mistress Tracy sighed happily.

Then, I spanked Pam. Lightly at first. My gaze went from Mistress Tracy’s face, who was watching me, and Pam’s butt, which was getting to be a nice shade of pink.

Finally, Mistress Tracy got impatient with me and took back her control. “Spank her harder, Sadey,” she said.

I gripped Pam’s waist, holding her body against mine, and smacked her butt hard. Pam groaned into Mistress Tracy’s pussy, and I smacked her again.

In between each spank I looked back to Mistress Tracy who was clearly close to cumming. She looked like she was fighting orgasm, wanting to prolong the moment. I kept spanking Pam, harder and harder, until Mistress Tracy started trembling with pleasure. She was climaxing hard.

On a whim, I pushed three fingers into Pam’s cunt and felt her tighten around me. She came, too, screaming into Mistress Tracy’s pussy.

I don’t normally climax without clitoral stimulation, so the fact that Pam came was very surprising. I sort of backed away in surprise.

Mistress Tracy was stroking Pam’s hair, and Pam rested her head against Mistress Tracy’s thigh.

Finally, Mistress Tracy turned to me. “Good job,” she said with a smile.

Relief. “Thank you.”

“Let’s clean up,” she said, getting up and helping Pam to her feet. “Then eat. I’m starving.”

… to be continued …

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Two Nights With Mistress Tracy (Part 7)

Continued from Two Nights With Mistress Tracy (Part 6)

Just joining us? Go to the beginning: Two Nights With Mistress Tracy (Part 1)

I took a bathroom break and when I was done, I waited for them, as ordered, in the living room. Mistress Tracy came back first, wearing a tight black corset and black leather pants. She had her hair up in a tight ponytail and wore bright red lipstick. In her hand was a long leather flogger, which she raised up in the air and snapped against the couch.

I almost jumped out of my skin.

“Help me move things,” she said. We moved the couch to the very edge of the large, green area rug. The coffee table and end tables we placed along the walls, leaving the center of the room empty.

I’ll admit this was quite nerve-wracking. Creating lots of space meant that we’d be needing lots of space. Mistress Tracy wanted a ‘show’. What did that mean? Would Pam and I be dancing for her?

Honestly, I hoped not. I’m fairly confident about my body, but next to Pam I am an awful dancer. I knew I shouldn’t compare myself to her but I couldn’t help it. My heart was beating hard against my chest as I helped Mistress Tracy.

She closed the curtains, making the room eerily dark for the middle of the day. Humming to herself, she fiddled around with her stereo until ominous music filled the room. It took me a moment to realize it was a mix of pipe organ and string instruments. She turned it up high and flashed me an evil grin as the sounds flooded my ears.

Pam reappeared, looking as shaken as I felt. She held a double dildo, a strap on, and two pairs of nipple clamps. She looked at me and swallowed hard.

“On your hands and knees, girls. Facing away from each other,” Mistress Tracy ordered. She took the toys from Pam and gently shoved her down to the floor.

Pam crawled into place and I dropped to my hands and knees and put myself into position, facing away from her.

Mistress Tracy maneuvered Pam until our butts were nearly touching. She slipped the dildo into my pussy, then Pam’s.

“King built me a new piece of furniture,” she announced, getting up and crossing the room. I watched her in fear. The music was so loud—too loud—and my pussy was adjusting to the girth of the dildo. My arms were trembling. I love and hate these moments, as a scene is beginning and the dominant has not explained what will happen. Anticipation is both torturous and sweet.

The contraption turned out to be a simple wooden board that ran in between our legs. In the middle of it, I saw later, is a wooden pole that was conveniently cut to rise to the height of our cunts. At the top of the pole is a hole, where Mistress Tracy threaded flat piece of rope. She tied the dildo in place, and stood back to admire of us.

“Why aren’t you fucking yourselves, girls?” she asked, pacing around us. She picked up the flogger and I winced as she brought it down hard on Pam’s back. I felt the dildo move and knew Pam was rocking back and forth. Without the need for motivation, I followed suit.

My obedience didn’t spare me, and soon I felt stinging pain of the leather straps burning into my skin. I cried out loudly and jolted forward, knowing instantly I’d made an error.

“Get your cunt back on that dick!” Mistress Tracy snapped, stinging me again with the cruel flogger.

I whimpered and resumed fucking myself.

“If either of you lets the dildo out of your cunt, I’ll add the clamps,” she warned.

I wondered how long we would be kept there, fucking ourselves. Mistress Tracy brought the flogger down on both of us a few more times before taking a seat on the couch. She told us to go faster and when I looked over to her I saw she was rubbing herself through her pants. She caught my eye and licked her lips.

That momentary distraction made me groan and move forward too much and the dildo slid out of my pussy. I slammed myself back on it hard, hoping she hadn’t noticed.

She had.

In a flash she was attaching clothespin-like clamps to my nipples. I moaned loudly in pain and hoped she wouldn’t punish Pam for my failure. But a moment later, I heard Pam whimper.

“Sorry, Pam,” I whispered.

Then, Mistress Tracy did something deliciously evil. She ordered us to stay still, and tied two thin ropes to our clamps, connecting our breasts together. My left breast was tied to Pam’s right breast, and my right breast to her left breast. Mistress Tracy tied them very taut, and smiled in satisfaction. “Keep fucking!” she ordered loudly, snapping us with the flogger.

So as we fucked, we tried to keep in rhythm, each moving the same way to keep the rope from stretching our nipples. It was useless, though. With the flogger raining down on our backs and our asses, it was impossible to maintain any semblance of normal rhythm, and our tits stretched painfully as we pulled against each other.

It wasn’t long before I was soaring in subspace. The pain in my tits, the dildo in my cunt, and the stinging splash of the flogger against my sore skin was incredibly intense. I wanted to beg her to beat me harder but I knew whatever I asked for would be doled out to Pam as well.

“The slave who cums first will be punished,” Mistress Tracy announced. “She’ll be punished by the other slave while I watch.” She picked up the strap-on and put the head of the black cock into her mouth, licking it seductively as she gazed down at us.

Seriously, I almost came on the spot. Lucky for me, I can almost never cum without clitoral stimulation (which is ultimately unlucky for me, but in this instance I was happy about it). Mistress Tracy ordered us to move faster and I felt Pam rocking hard against the dildo. I’m not sure what inspired me to do this, but as I heard the flogger smack Pam’s back a few times in a row, I shouted, “Cum, Pam! I want to punish you for cumming for us!”

And I felt her shake against the dildo and her cries blended with the music as she erupted in an enormous orgasm. Mistress Tracy was chuckling and she knelt down and yanked off the nipple clamps, making us both yelp in pain.

“Good girl, Sadey,” she whispered into my ear. Her breath was hot against my skin. “I’m going to enjoy watching you fuck her ass.”

I was breathless and nearly speechless, but the small dominant bug that lives inside me came to life and I whispered back, “Can I make her lick me first?”

“Sure you can.” She stood up and took a seat on the couch. “Pamela,” she said, her voice stern, “I’m surprised you lost the little game. You’ll be Sadey’s slave for the next forty minutes. My only requirement for her is that she fucks your asshole. Everything else, Sadey,” she said, turning to me, “is up to you. We talked about this before—I’ll make sure you don’t do anything unsafe. Let’s see you try to be dominant.”

We had, indeed, discussed this before. When I started writing erotica, I wanted to explore what it feels like to top someone. I’d ‘played’ top before, at parties, but I’d never really gotten into the role. I knew I was just playing top with Pam, because Mistress Tracy was really in control. But my pussy was burning with desire as I imagined what I might do. I looked over to Pam. She was still recovering from her orgasm and I could tell she was trying to process what her Mistress was saying. She looked at me and when our eyes met I smiled at her.

“Don’t worry, Pam,” I said. “I won’t hurt you too much.”

She whimpered but I knew she’d enjoy serving me. I was so fucking horny at that moment that I didn’t want to do anything with her until I came. So I stretched out on the rug, spread my legs, and said, “Lick.”

continued at Two Nights With Mistress Tracy (Part 8)

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Two Nights With Mistress Tracy (Part 6)

Continued from Two Nights With Mistress Tracy (Part 5)

Just joining us? Go to the beginning: Two Nights With Mistress Tracy (Part 1)

Mistress Tracy found a table while I went back with Patrick. He showed me the menus and the soda machine. “Just take their order and get them their drinks. If they have any questions about the food, tell them you’re in training and get Pam to help you. When they give you their order, give it to Pam and she’ll do the rest.”

“OK.”

“Here you go,” he said, handing me a pad to take down orders. “Here’s a diagram of the tables. You’ll take one through seven, got it?”

I nodded, studying the diagram and then popping out to the main room to check that I understood where the corresponding tables were.

“Good,” said Patrick. “Number three hasn’t been greeted yet.”

Taking a deep breath, I went to the front room. At table number three sat a group of four young guys, maybe in their early twenties. When I approached, they hushed their conversation and looked at me eagerly.

These guys really, really looked at me. I’ve felt like an object plenty of times in my life, but never in such a strange vanilla setting. It was like since they had permission to stare at a girl they were going to do it as best as they could.

“Welcome,” I said cheerfully, handing them menus. One of the guys was staring right at my chest and I checked to make sure the skimpy top was still covering my nipples. “Can I bring you something to drink?”

They ordered water and I soon relaxed in my new position. Patrick watched me carefully at first until he was satisfied I wouldn’t screw up. Pam and I shared the tables, so after I took their food orders she handled bringing out their meals. I was glad for that—I’d never wanted to be a waitress for fear that I would spill hot soup or something into a customer’s lap.

Syd came in about twenty minutes into my shift as a waitress and he scooped me into his arms for a big hug. I hadn’t seen him since New Years and was happy he was back.

“So Nate gave you away, huh?” he asked with a wink.

“Yeah. Until tomorrow.”

“Everyone is gonna love hearing about this.” He shot me a knowing smile and slid into the booth across from Mistress Tracy.

While Syd and Mistress Tracy chatted, Pam and I worked, and I discovered I kind of like waitressing in a skimpy outfit. Since the main reason customers come to Pam’s restaurant is to gawk at pretty girls, they really had no reservations about it. It wasn’t like wearing the slutty outfit earlier and having pedestrians half-look at me, but avert their eyes and try not to stare. No, these guys (and some girls) unabashedly gazed at us while we moved around the restaurant.

“Do you ever see people you know?” I asked Pam during our dinner break.

“Hardly. And then, only the type of people who would be OK with me having a job like this. It isn’t like my mom is going to show up here.”

She had a good point. I’d briefly wondered what some of my friends would say if they saw me there, with my butt hanging out of my shorts and my boobs nearly falling out of my top. But it just wasn’t a concern; none of my conservative friends would frequent a place like that. In fact, one of my friends recently called the restaurant, ‘A feminist’s nightmare,’ and ended her diatribe with, ‘I wouldn’t be caught within a block of that place.’

Patrick let us off early, and we all gave Syd a hug goodbye. Mistress Tracy instructed Pam to leave her car at the restaurant. Pam and I were herded into Mistress Tracy’s backseat with these instructions: “Take off those shorts, girls. The rule for the ride home is that your fingers never leave each other’s cunts.”

Syd overheard that as he walked toward his car and turned back with a wistful expression. I wished he was joining us, actually. Showing my body off for three hours had made me rather excited and I wouldn’t have minded two sadists having their way with me. He was off to work a night-shift, though, and wouldn’t be joining us.

Pam had her shorts off in a flash and yanked mine down for me. I giggled and helped her undress me, thankful for tinted windows and the darkness of the night. She slid two fingers inside me and I groaned as she curled them just-so. I reciprocated, our arms crossing each others, and found her cunt slippery and smooth like mine. Pam moaned happily as I gently pumped in and out of her and Mistress Tracy smiled at us through her review mirror.

When Mistress Tracy pulled into her garage, she ordered Pam to make me cum. I pulled my fingers from Pam’s cunt and relaxed as she fingered me. It didn’t take long for me to climax, and though I knew Pam wanted to cum too, Mistress Tracy told us to get out of the car. Inside, we stripped off our tops as required.

The rest of the evening was surprisingly (and, admittedly, disappointingly) vanilla. I was still completely horny, but Pam was tired after working her shift. Mistress Tracy turned on the TV and we watched Dexter, which they were really into but I’d already seen. Pam and I sat on the carpeted floor by Mistress Tracy’s feet. I fell asleep halfway through, and woke to Mistress Tracy yanking me up.

“Time for bed,” she said. We washed up, brushed teeth, drank water, and collapsed on Mistress Tracy’s bed together.

“This is a privilege,” Mistress Tracy was sure to remind me.

I nodded and thanked her sincerely. I was grateful to be on the bed rather than the floor. I snuggled into the covers and relished the warmth of being next to Pam and Mistress Tracy.

I woke up before them (I’m an early riser) and watched them sleep for a few minutes. Mistress Tracy was on her back and Pam was curled up next to her, sleeping peacefully with her head in the crook of her Mistress’ shoulder. They looked so right together that I wished I had a camera to capture the moment. But, sometimes scenes like those aren’t meant to be captured; only remembered fondly.

I made a pot of coffee and prepared some breakfast ingredients. Looking at the clock, I estimated I had a couple of hours before I’d be cooking up eggs for them. So I wrote, with a blanket around my naked body to keep warm, without the aid of The Stool, until I heard a toilet flush and knew they were getting up. I hopped up and got to work making scrambled eggs and toast and melon balls, and I made everything look pretty. For some reason I really like making sure food and table settings look nice.

My efforts were appreciated by the still-groggy Mistress Tracy and Pam. After breakfast, Mistress Tracy yawned, got up, and said, “This morning, I want to be pampered.” She looked back and forth between Pam and I and smiled at us. “I want my every whim taken care of. Got it?”

We replied in unison: “Yes, Mistress Tracy.”

Pam took her by the hand and in an uncharacteristic display of leadership, led her down the hall. I followed, and she went to a room I’d never seen. The walls were dark green, with white wooden trim. A dark red throw rug covered most of the wooden floor. There was a massage table set up against one wall and I helped Pam move it to the center of the room. Looking around, I noticed a sawhorse against the other wall. Pam caught my eye and whispered, “For real punishments.”

I nodded solemnly. Pam once confided with me that, while Mistress Tracy is a sadistic woman, she rarely actually punishes people. When she does punish, the sessions are long and painful. I’ll confess that when I’m feeling particularly masochistic, I’ve imagined being truly punished by Mistress Tracy.
Edit: After she read this, she assured me that I would not enjoy a real punishment from her, no matter how masochistic I’m feeling.

Pam put on soft, mellow music and we spent the next hour and a half giving Mistress Tracy a sensual massage. We started with her scalp and moved down from there, with Pam whispering directions to me as we worked. She showed me what Mistress Tracy likes, and I admired how well she knows her Mistress’ body.

When we massaged her ass, Mistress Tracy slightly parted her legs. While I continued massaging her with my hands, Pam leaned down and licked. She licked her in between her cheeks, and when Mistress Tracy moaned I knew that Pam was playing with her asshole. I swallowed hard and nearly stopped rubbing as I watched, but steeled myself and continued working.

Pam used her hands and tongue to make Mistress Tracy orgasm twice before she straightened up and began working with me again. She gave me a wink and a smile as we worked down Mistress Tracy’s thighs, to her calves, and finally her feet. At her feet, Pam motioned for me to do as she was doing, and we both knelt on the floor and spent a good amount of time sucking and nibbling Mistress Tracy’s toes.

When we had her turn over, Mistress Tracy looked calmer than I’d ever seen her before. She said, “Good girls,” and Pam quickly replied with, “May we continue, Mistress?”

She nodded and we worked our way back up her body. When we got up to her pussy I looked to Pam for approval and she nodded at me. I took my turn licking Mistress Tracy while Pam massaged her, and in minutes, as I was lightly sucking on her clit, she arched her back and groaned loudly as she shuddered in orgasm.

We didn’t stop touching her until we got back up to her scalp again. She sighed softly with pleasure as Pam helped her up off the table.

“May we bathe you now, Mistress?” Pam asked sweetly.

“No,” Mistress Tracy murmured. “Later. Right now I want a show.”

… continued at Two Nights With Mistress Tracy (Part 7)

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