Susan’s Story – Part One

Synopsis

 

Susan’s Story is about an African American police officer who’s having a rough time in life. She’s been burned by an ex-lover and is dealing with the recent death of her beloved brother. As time progresses, she becomes more and more isolated and lonely. Then she meets the mysterious Renata. She is inexplicably drawn to the woman, and they engage in a heated one-night-stand.

 

Susan is certain she’ll never see the sexually charged goddess again, but a fated encounter brings them back together. Renata, who is also Mistress Lucia, will not only show Susan that being all tied up might just set her heart free, but also open up a world of sexual possibilities she never considered.

Susan's Story - Part One

Officer Susan Riley was supposed to be off duty, but they’d gotten a last-minute call to check out a disturbance in a small inner-city skate park.


By the time they’d arrived, the perps vandalizing the skate park had scattered away like cockroaches being chased after the light switch had been flipped. One had been cornered, frozen in fear when he couldn’t clear the chain link fence. He stood shivering in the cold night air.


“Just cuff him and read him his rights,” Officer Schwartz had said.


Susan inhaled slowly to maintain her calm.


The kid couldn’t be older than sixteen. Worst case scenario, it had been a hazing ceremony to induct him into their gang – best case, bored, neglected teens looking for mischief.


There were gangs in Vegas, but if this were a ‘gang’ it was like little kids playing pretend. Trying on their father’s shoes that were three sizes too big and stumbling around awkwardly.


She grabbed the kid and pulled him aside. The kid looked as though he were of mixed ethnicity. Maybe African American and Latino.  He probably had little support from either side. She could relate, being full African American, and a woman in a man’s profession. His plain white t-shirt was threadbare, and his jean cuffs rose above the ankles.


“What’s your name, kid?” Susan asked.


The kid cast a sidelong glance at her, then looked away quickly. His eyes were shimmering with the threat of unwanted tears.


“What the hell are you doing, Susan?” Schwartz asked.


Susan turned slightly, her voice calm but laced slightly with a menacing warning. “Give – me – a minute.”


Schwartz rolled his eyes and walked back to the patrol car.


“Okay, you don’t wanna give me your name, it’s fine. I’m going to have to lock ya up until your legal counsel arrives. That could take a while.”


The kid’s eyes widened. “How long?” He asked.


“Hard to say. It’s been busy these days, and there’s only so many public defenders to go round,” Susan said.


She knew full well there wouldn’t be a need for a public defender, but shaking him up a bit would get him talking. Get her the info she needed to help him. He was probably a minor. It was likely a first offense. She had a knack for being able to tell.


“It’s Tyrone,” he said quietly.


“How old are you, Tyrone?” Susan asked.

 

“Fifteen,” then, as an afterthought, “ma’am.”


Susan’s heart sank. This kid was the classic case, wanting to fit in, poor and broken family, looking for a place to belong in a landscape fraught with smoke and mirrors.

“Your mama know where you are? What you out here doing?” Susan asked.


His gaze was diverted towards the ground. He shook his head no.


“Let me ask you something, Tyrone? You really think spray painting up all this public property at a city park is going to make you fit in? Look at your homies man, they up and left you cold, once the brass showed up.”


Anger flitted across Tyrone’s face, and he pursed his lips tight.


“They don’t care ‘bout you. You wanna fit in. There’s better ways to do that than defacing public property.”


Tyrone rolled his eyes but was careful not to be direct about it.


“C’mon, turn around. I gotta cuff you.”


The tears did leak from the corner of his eyes then. Susan frog marched him to the car. Schwartz took over and roughly jostled the boy into the back of the car. Susan’s nostrils flared as she glared at Schwartz’s back.


“Took you long enough, Riley. What were you doing, preaching him a Sunday sermon to save his soul,” Schwartz snickered.


It was Susan’s turn to roll her eyes. She was careful to look out the window so Schwartz wouldn’t see her.


When they got back to the precinct, Susan told Schwartz she’d take care of the boy, and he happily made his way to the break room for coffee. Vegas nights in the winter were colder than most people realized, and he was all too happy to warm up with a cup of brew and leave the hoodlum to be Susan’s problem.


When they got into the station, Susan sat Tyrone down on a chair in a holding room until the social worker and juvenile authorities took over. It would take them a while to get there. She took off his cuffs and set a soda down on the table.


“You thirsty?”


He looked away as she pulled a chair up directly across from the boy and sat down. She pushed the Coke towards him.


“Aren’t you putting me in a cell?” Tyrone asked, rolling his eyes.


There would be no jail cell. Because he was a minor, it meant he’d be dealt with differently than an adult. At the moment, there was no reason he needed to know that though.


“Let’s chat a bit. I wanna know why you got it in your head that tonight’s little farce was such a good idea.”


Again a roll of the eyes. This time directly at her.


“Look, you don’t have to talk to me. I get it. I’m a cop. We’re the bad guys. But I got news for you, Ty. I ain’t no guy.”


He cast a glance at her then, and a hint of a smile cracked.


“So, let me ask you this. Gonna be direct. Was it initiation?”


Tyrone shrugged and looked away.


Susan needed to know if they were just a bunch of kids being stupid or if this kid was trying to induct himself into a low-level gang. The answer would make a huge difference.


“You trying to join a gang, Tyrone?” She pressed.


“Just some guys from school.”


“Are these guys in a gang?”

 

“No.” He looked down and seemed embarrassed to admit this.


Inwardly, Susan breathed a sigh of relief.


“Why you wanna be hanging out with homies who gonna ditch you like that Ty? First sign of heat and they threw you right under the bus.”


Tyrone’s face hardened.


Susan pulled the Coke towards her, cracked it open, and pushed it back towards the boy.


He glanced at the can indecisively. She knew why he was hesitant. The offering, if taken, was an unspoken gesture of trust. If he took and drank from it, he’d feel like he was giving in –  trusting the enemy.


He tapped his fingers nervously on the table and finally relented. He took the can in a rough gesture, took one swig, and practically slammed it back onto the metal table.


Susan waited. He took a few more sips from the can, and despite the sugar, it seemed to calm him.


“It’s rough out there. I grew up in Oakland. Some shady shit on those streets, man let me tell you.”


Tyrone looked at her cautiously then back to fiddling with the tab on the Coke can.


“I know how hard it can be — no one to lean on, having to take care of yourself. Just need to find someone who understands. It’s easy to get sucked into the game. I almost did.”


His eyes flitted up towards her. “What’d ya do?” Tyrone asked.


“Stealing shit. Did a little time in juvie. It could’a gone real bad for me, but I was lucky Ty. I was real lucky man.”


“I ain’t got no luck.”


“Now you see, I beg to differ. I think you’re luckier than you realize.”


“I got caught. How the fuck is that lucky!”


“True, you got caught. But your ass is luckier than you realize, cause you got caught by me.” Susan smirked and winked at him.


Tyrone snorted a laugh.


It was just the reaction she’d hoped for. There was hope for this one, after all. It was going to be a long night, and she should have been off over an hour ago, but it’s why she became an officer of the law.

Susan’s Story – Part Two

Susan’s friends who lived out of state, puzzled at how she could not spend every spare second of her free time, at The Las Vegas Strip – ‘The Playground for Adults.’ What her friends didn’t know, and what locals learned quickly, was how The Strip was a veritable magic act, inside the superficial circus tent of society. The veneer of elegance duped the middle class into playing make-believe. Even just for a night, they felt they could belong to the upper echelon of society. More often than not, the lonely tourist playing pretend at wealth and status left the dry desert town with an empty bank account and broken spirit. Such was the game the middle class played, and such was the prey upon which Vegas feasted and kept its belly full.

 

North of The Strip the landscape was more residential and local business-oriented. A more “normal” suburban territory if one could even attempt at using that word to describe anything in the Las Vegas valley. Tourists simply didn’t visit this area.

 

Susan sat on a barstool in an upscale business hotel north of the Las Vegas Strip. Her precinct was south of The Strip, where she worked the night shift. She wanted anonymity tonight, somewhere to get lost in the crowd. To be alone, but not be alone. In the expansive Las Vegas valley, it was easy enough to make yourself invisible.

 

Staying home alone again, surrounded by the quiet solitude of her depression, trying to force thoughts of her ex-lover, Andrea, out of her head, thoughts of her brother James who had been deceased not even two years yet, seemed unbearable. The claustrophobia of loneliness was too great to bear. At present, she felt sick of people, the tired betrayal of humanity using one another, like steppingstones to some crude invisible structure in the sky, clamoring to get ahead, not caring who they crushed beneath them to put themselves on top.

 

James had been betrayed and paid with his life.

 

Andrea had betrayed her. Dismissing an eight-year relationship without ceremony or sustenance.

 

Susan had just bought ‘The’ ring too.

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With a huge romantic weekend planned, she was going to pop the question. But Andrea leaving her hit Susan like an oil tanker falling out of the sky. It hit her harder than she cared to admit and left a mess she still hadn’t cleaned up.

 

One evening at dinner, only days before their getaway, Andrea lifted her fork to her mouth, then lowered it and said in a clinical tone like that of a doctor informing you that you had a wart that could easily be removed, “I think we should separate.”

 

Susan choked on her wine, so stunned she could barely get out the word, “What?”

 

“It’s just not working, Susan. I think we both need to acknowledge that the chemistry between us is gone.”

 

Sure, Susan had felt the apathy of routine creep into their relationship, but that’s why she’d planned the getaway. She had to finagle the time off and dip into her savings, but she was sure they just needed to get that spark fired up again. Doing something spontaneous was a sure-fire cure in her mind.

 

The rest of the evening, Susan put up a valiant effort to fight for their relationship. However, the more she pleaded her case, the more Andrea turned the tables on her. By the end of the discussion, Susan was left feeling as if she were being petty over a squabble about something as mundane as their dinner choices for the evening, rather than fighting for an eight-year relationship that seemed to be crumbling around her.

 

She learned later on why Andrea was willing to walk away as casually as someone pushing their chair away from the table when they’ve finished dinner. While Susan had been planning to save their relationship, Andrea had already moved on and found someone else to cure their relationship woes.

 

It wasn’t just relationship problems either that had her feeling numb and shutdown.

What she had told Tyrone had been true, she and James had grown up in Oakland, and they were a classic case kids from the hood. Dad was a tool in a petty crime syndicate, and Mom was never around, on and off the needle. They barely managed to make ends meet.

 

James had taken care of her for most of her childhood. Then misfortune rained down on them like lead bullets, and they could barely seek cover. Dad had been jailed, mom died of an overdose, they’d found themselves on the street, and then ended up in the system.

 

When she told that kid she was lucky; he had no idea how ‘Lady Luck’ had favored her indeed. Foster care in most depressed areas usually proved to be worse than a kids’ home life. For some reason, the siblings had not only been lucky enough to be taken in by someone who genuinely cared, but they had not been separated either.

 

The woman who had taken them in called herself, Aunt Sara. An older woman, who’d never had kids, had also been a product of the system. She’d gotten out of school, learned about computers and finance in the 80s, and had a knack for penny stocks. She made a fortune and started a foster care house in her middle-aged years. Even rarer still, Aunt Sara preferred to take in older kids with a mission to guide them towards a better course of self-reliance. Steering them simultaneously away from the lure of street life temptations, which promised easy work and riches with minimal struggle.

 

Sara had encouraged James to go into law enforcement. He’d been hesitant, but she said with the problem of police brutality and minorities still struggling to make their voices heard, he could make a difference. They’d never had a mentor. They’d never had anyone who cared. James trusted Sara, and he did, in fact, love his work.

 

Susan saw this and followed in James’ footsteps. First to make her brother proud, then over time, slowly developing a cause of her own, for kids like Tyrone.  

 

Then, James had fallen in the line of duty only eighteen months before Andrea brought down the ax on their union. Andrea had argued that Susan ‘had changed after her brother’s death, and she couldn’t deal with her “moping” around anymore.’

 

It was a low blow for Andrea to use that as justification for cheating. When Susan had time to process the exchange of that night, she realized Andrea had done it because it would silence Susan’s protests. Susan had already felt guilty that her brother’s death had disrupted every aspect of her life, and Andrea used that against her. If Andrea had wanted Susan so bitter, she wouldn’t try to coax Andrea back, it had worked.

 

To make matters worse after the break-up, Susan attempted, with disastrous results, to get a fresh start. She found herself a little apartment as far away from Andrea as she could. The distance doubled her commute, making it over an hour one way. Eventually, she put in to transfer from one precinct to another. She’d had to take a demotion and work nights again. A good chunk of the night crew officers were misogynistic assholes.

 

She hadn’t had to deal with that in her home precinct on the other side of the valley. She’d thought of transferring back, but her pride inhibited her from eating crow with her buddies back “home.” They were a great group of guys, who didn’t care that she was a woman, or gay, or black.

 

They treated her and the two other female officers like one of their own – like they belonged. They’d thrown her a going-away party even though she’d only be about an hour across the valley from them.

 

She sipped slowly at her cocktail, letting the vodka work its magic, like a sweet song coursing through her bloodstream, the notes easing her tension. She felt her muscles loosening up. There was a jazz singer on the piano, crooning out old Sinatra tunes. He wasn’t half bad, but she was more of a Nina Simone kinda gal. Maybe she’d go over and put in a request at some point, really see how skilled a jazz musician he was.

 

She’d dressed up a bit, only for herself. She wasn’t looking to hook up tonight. Her distaste for other humans at the moment was bordering between disdain and hatred. She just needed a change of scenery with anonymity. Just something to distract her, that was all.

 

She’d applied a bit of light makeup to her smooth ebony skin. She wasn’t a great beauty, but neither was she ugly. She had pulled her shoulder-length hair back in a bun, put on a pair of simple gold hoops, and threw on a pair of black slacks and her favorite burgundy blouse, which accented her figure nicely. She knew heels would help her vertically challenged stature, but walking around in such insensible shoes, even off duty, wasn’t her thing.

 

She’d just finished up her drink and was about to order another when a gorgeous Hispanic woman, seated herself slowly on a bar stool, only one seat over. The woman looked older than Susan by about a decade, maybe forty-five, but she had a perfect voluptuous figure. The skin-tight red dress and very high heels accentuated every sexy curve. Despite Susan’s downright resistance to notice or be noticed, this woman made her sit up and stare.

 

Susan, not unlike many other lesbians, immediately made a snap judgment with a woman she found herself attracted to. Her mind asserted – not gay.

 

The woman ordered a drink from the bartender, then as if on cue, hearing Susan’s thoughts, she brazenly turned her head to face Susan, and flashed a cocky smile.

 

Susan didn’t blush, but she could feel her face grow hot. She gave the woman a thin, wan smile and quickly turned back to her new drink the bartender had just set down.

 

Nope! She wasn’t doing this. Not tonight, it was her night to be alone, nursing her drink, and wallow in the mire of self-pity her life had become.

 

Susan pulled out her phone and opened her Instagram app. She began to scroll through the feed when she started at a woman’s voice – the woman’s voice, “Is this seat taken?” She had a lovely voice, with a hint of an accent. The woman had already moved down and seated herself next to Susan.

 

“Oh, no. I’m here alone,” Susan said.

 

The woman flashed a wolfish grin.

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Susan’s Story – Part Three

“My name is Renata. What’s yours?” Renata offered her hand to Susan.

 

“Susan.”

 

Susan took the woman’s hand and noticed her grip was firm, but not overbearing. Her hands were soft, and her nails were beautifully manicured, matching the shade of her dress and heels. Now that the woman was seated right in front of Susan, it was hard not to notice her ample bosom, framed seductively by the low-cut neckline of the dress. Susan realized she had probably stared at the woman’s chest a beat longer than she should.

 

Renata laughed, not missing the subtle lingering of Susan’s eyes. She flashed a sly smiled, then turned to her drink and sipped.

 

The tension of sitting next to each other was palpable. Susan debated getting up and leaving. Her mind had been firmly determined to remain alone this evening. Yet there was something charged about this woman. It kept her planted on her stool.

 

After Susan finished her second Bloody Mary, Renata gave the empty glass a sidelong glance. “Can I buy you another?”

 

Susan wavered. Her mind said no, but she was surprised to hear herself saying, “Sure, thanks.”

 

Maybe the bartender is pouring heavy? My cocktail seems to be hitting me faster than I thought it would…

 

“Same thing or something new?”

 

“Same, please. Thanks again.”

 

Renata waved the bartender over and ordered her another.

 

This woman oozes sexual vibes. Maybe she is gay. Or at the least bi? Susan mused. No, I don’t want to go there. Stop it, Susan.

 

“So what brings you here tonight, Susan?” Renata asked.

 

“Nothing in particular. Just looking to get away from it all for a night.”

 

Renata nodded her head slowly as if she understood perfectly.

 

“So, you came to Las Vegas but stayed in one of the nicest hotels forty minutes from The Strip? Interesting… Where are you from?”

 

“I think you misunderstood. I live in the valley but on the other side of The Strip. I just wanted to get away from my usual haunts.”

 

“Ah, I see.” Renata smiled seductively and sipped her whiskey on the rocks.

 

Susan knew she really shouldn’t drink the third cocktail. Yet, it would seem she was harboring a ‘devil-may-care’ attitude tonight, and this devilishly gorgeous woman in Prada sitting next to her was causing her icy walls to melt.

 

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“What do you do for a living?” Renata asked.

 

Susan paused for a beat. She hated telling strangers right out the gate she was an officer. Sometimes people wanted to take advantage of it, and others found it intimidating, and their demeanor would shift entirely into ‘weirdness.’

 

Susan lied, “I do clerical work for the government.”

 

“Sounds exhilarating,” Renata teased with a deadpan tone.

 

“Absolutely,” Susan raised her glass. Renata raised hers, and they clinked them together.

 

It wasn’t a complete lie. Lately, the assholes at the precinct had been dumping their reports in droves on Susan’s desk. “All rookies gotta pay their dues,” they “joked.” She was far from being a rookie, but whatever. She kept a stone-faced demeanor, and never let them know she was hot under the collar.

 

“What do you do?” Susan asked Renata.

 

“Oh, I’m a professional people-pleaser. And – punisher if the situation warrants it.”

 

Susan’s eyes went wide, thinking ‘prostitute,’ but Renata held her gaze. Her eyes were daring Susan to ask more or let it be.

 

Susan laughed lightly. Even with the buzz, Susan was not slow on the uptake of their exchange. “Touché’,” she said at last.

 

Renata pursed her lips in a mischievous expression, suppressing a smile.

 

Four drinks in and the room’s floor had bottomed out to a spinning carnival ride for Susan. Renata advanced to a sly hand on Susan’s thigh, a light touch to Susan’s shoulder sending calculated shivers across her skin. Renata leaned in and whispered the punch line of “jokes.” Susan’s breath hitched at the enticing fragrance of Renata’s perfume, the sexy exotic lilt of her voice, soft against her neck.

 

Before Susan could think rationally, Renata had pulled Susan off the barstool, and they were walking arm and arm up to Renata’s hotel room. It was a suite on the top floor. Nothing extremely fancy. It was a business hotel, after all. But there was a sitting room with a TV, kitchenette, and a separate bedroom.

 

Susan had only a moment to take it all in because Renata pulled Susan into the room, slammed the door shut, and pushed her up against the wall.

 

The exotic beauty was both sensually suave and eager all in one stroke. She pinned Susan’s hands above her head and trailed kisses down her neck. Susan’s skin tingled, and she moaned. She realized Renata was nearly six feet to her five-and-a-half-foot stature. As Susan ran her hands up and down the arms of the woman’s flawless caramel-colored skin, the slight curves and ripples of her toned arms, increased Susan’s arousal. For a woman possibly ten years her senior, she was sexy as hell.

 

Renata unbuttoned Susan’s blouse and caressed the exposed ridge of Susan’s mounds. A ripple of pleasure coursed through her. She removed the shirt and began to undo her pants. She wore only her lace underthings now, and Renata stepped back for a beat, and— was she admiring her? Yes… Renata’s eyes panned up and down the length of Susan’s body the way an artist might assess and appreciate her model before a sitting.

 

Susan abhorred how people, especially in Vegas, treated the human body as if it were meat on display, ready to be fired up and consumed for the right price. But, something about the way this woman was objectifying her… There was a genuine appraisal that shone in her eyes. Susan felt both embarrassed and – proud?

 

There was no time to think about it further. Renata had closed the distance between them. She cupped Susan’s face and kissed her again, moving her tongue over her lips and into her mouth with a sly smoothness, that even her lover of eight years had never accomplished. Renata slid her hands along Susan’s stomach and teased at the top of her panties. The moisture pooling between Susan’s thighs increased.

 

Renata, not breaking contact, continued kissing, and like a skilled dancer moving their partner across the floor, guided Susan to the bedroom.

 

Susan attempted to mirror Renata’s slow sensuality, but by comparison, fumbled and shook, feeling as though she were a teenager undressing her date after the prom. Through the haze of the alcohol, and her mounting desire, she was overcome with desire and lust. She had little control, and it took every sliver to hold back in ripping this woman’s clothing off.

 

Renata smiled seductively. Her expression was smug and knowing. She seemed to have all the sexual patience of a goddess, in the company of a lowly worshipper. She wanted Susan’s devotions and attention, and she would wait patiently, allowing Susan her misgivings. Susan’s piety at the altar of Renata’s sexual glory would be an eagerly anticipated offering.

 

Susan’s hands fumbled at the delicate zipper on Renata’s dress. She finally unzipped it and let it fall. Susan sucked in her breath.

 

Goddess, she was.

 

Susan reminded herself to breathe and control the urge to throw the woman on the bed and ravage her.

 

Renata laughed lightly and took Susan firmly by the shoulders. She eased Susan back on the bed and straddled Susan’s hips just below her stomach. Renata’s wetness that glistened across Susan’s thighs made her pant more longingly with passion and desire.

 

Renata bent down, allowing Susan the perfect view of her breasts. Susan moved her hands along Renata’s back and unfastened the clasp. Her glorious breasts beckoned to be touched. Susan cupped each one and massaged them. Renata leaned forward, inviting Susan to place them in her mouth, beckoning her to pay her devotions to her Goddess of the night. Worship her, Susan did. She moved her tongue around the warm nub of Renata’s breasts. Renata’s groaned and arched her back in delight. Her hips began to grind against Susan’s. Susan’s hips instinctively moved in time with Renata’s.

 

Renata’s hands had playfully teased, flicking and squeezing Susan’s nipples. Susan mewled with want for Renata to reciprocate. Renata’s movements like an exotic cat on the hunt, prowled down the length of Susan’s body, kissing and taunting. She reached behind her back and in one swift motion, removed the clasp of Susan’s bra. Renata then slipped her finger into the side of Susan’s panties and inched them down past her hips.

 

“Oh God,” Susan breathed out. Being free of her undergarments felt like inhaling oxygen after holding her breath.

 

Renata hovered over Susan and again took a moment to admire Susan’s body.

“Beautiful,” Renata breathed.

 

Susan could bear the foreplay no longer. She took Renata’s hand and put one finger, her middle finger into her mouth, and sucked it. It was a message, spoken without words, that Renata understood. When Susan removed her finger, Renata placed it below, working it between her already wet folds. Susan gasped and let out a cry, as Renata pushed her finger slowly into Susan, working it back and forth in time with Susan’s rocking hips.

 

Renata let the weight of her body settle on top of Susan. Renata kissed her with an intensity of passion that she had never known. Renata’s tongue snaked around Susan’s with a sensuality that rivaled an aphrodisiac made by The Gods. Renata slowly removed her finger and waited. It was as if she were performing, and Susan was the only audience member. She would hold her in the throw of passion and control her every whim in that short time they were together.

 

Renata slowly inserted two fingers and began to move them against the soft spot of her pleasure. Susan let out a faint cry, and mumbled, “Oh God, Oh God…”

 

Renata coaxed her along, murmuring in her ear, “that’s it,” and “yes,” as she supplanted kisses on her neck, behind her ear, and then furiously overtaking her mouth again, all while she moved in perfect rhythm to the ever-increasing heat that flared through Susan’s core. Renata played the strings of her instrument like an expert violinist, coaxing sweet music from her.

 

Susan could feel the waves of her release mounting and inching towards climax. She screamed as the waves of orgasm took her. It burst through her like a star’s explosion, igniting her mind and body. She shuddered and writhed with a radiance that was all-consuming.

 

Susan lay on the bed, panting and heaving with emotions too raw and complicated to bring to conscious thought. Renata lay beside her wearing a wicked grin, as she allowed Susan a moment to regain her composure.

 

When it was Susan’s turn to reciprocate, she felt clumsy and self-conscious that she would even be able to please this Goddess of sex and pleasure. Renata seemed not to notice, and she screamed with all the authenticity of a woman, indeed in the throes of passion.

 

They made love, and fucked, and made love, and fucked, long into the night. Well after the effects of the alcohol had ceased to dim their senses, they pleasured each other, only making their encounter that much more heightened.

 

When Susan awoke in the morning, she was alone, but there was a note on the bedside table.

 

I had a lovely night with one of the most lovely ladies I’ve been with for a very long time. Thank you, Susan. Stay until check-out if you like.

 

Renata.

 

It was Susan’s first one-night stand. Were they all this mind-blowing? She didn’t think so. In all the years she and Andrea had been together, it had never been like that.

 

Why hadn’t it been like that?

 

It left her with a bitter-sweet range of emotions.

 

She pulled herself up from the bed and made her way to the shower, her mind buzzing between two very conflicting thoughts.

 

The one thought; I hope I never see Renata again – a one night stand is so embarrassing. The other thought; That was the most amazing night of my life! I wish I could have just one more with that woman.

Enjoying the story? See something that could be improved on? Leave a comment down below!

Enjoying the story? See something that could be improved on? Leave a comment down below!

Susan’s Story – Part Four

Mistress Lucia sighed. The fet party was going well except for Lisa. That girl was a fireball and produced the audible fireworks to prove it. She was a ‘brat’ to the hilt, which was fine, but she was going to get them reported for a noise complaint – again – if she didn’t keep her voice to a dull roar.

 

Mistress Lucia, who also went by Renata when she wasn’t a Mistress, supposed it was her own fault and not Lisa’s. She did live in a duplex, after all.

 

She’d lived here for several years and loved the place. After the ‘08’ crash she’d been able to purchase it with almost all cash, and very little credit. The property had been vacant and in severe disrepair, but had 1200 square feet, three bedrooms, and an open floor plan – kitchen, living room, dining room, and attached garage. Perfect for her single and unconventional lifestyle.

 

She’d only wished she could have anticipated that her old neighbors – who didn’t give two cents about her parties – would move out within the year, and new ones would move in. Old uptight and stuffy neighbors, who complained if she even dropped her loofah in the shower. They’d be sure to hear it and have something to say.

Oh, how she adored this place though; stuffy, uptight neighbors aside. She had lovingly renovated it. At first, she was dubious at the thought of taking on a fixer-upper, but she’d quickly fallen in love with the art and science of home improvement. She watched her house slowly morph and transform into a home. The slow metamorphosis was not unlike a brand new sub. She would watch the submissive transform through subtle changes throughout each session with her, and this imbued her with a sense of pride and satisfaction beyond words.

The neighborhood was older but afforded her abode more architectural character and charm, than the stucco track housing that popped up all over Vegas in the housing boom just after 2006, and continued to spread throughout the valley like a suburban virus of mediocrity, which she loathed.

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Renata knew she already had enough to flip the property almost twice over, but it was the product of her own blood, sweat, and tears. It was hard to let something go when you had so much of your soul imbibed into it. Every time they had a fetish event though, she seriously reconsidered buying something more isolated and private. 

 

There was a core group of Mistress’s that Renata associated with from her Domme Sorority – The Sisterhood of Jade. All except Mistress Alecia-Jade were engaged in The Lifestyle on both a professional and personal level. Alecia-Jade had just retired from the professional side and was only involved in it on a personal level with her lover.

 

The four women took turns hosting fetish parties or more commonly called fet-events. Often a new or curious sub might feel more comfortable witnessing how it worked with others before engaging in their own Scene with their Dominatrix.

 

The events also provided a mixer for the four women, and other friends in the community to meet, compare notes, share ideas, and network. It was an underground lifestyle, after all. For example, Mistress Scarlett-Jade specialized in the art of being a ‘Mommy,’ so her ‘brat’ Lisa was beyond ornery and required lots of ‘discipline.’

 

Renata was a ‘Goddess’ whose art form focused on drawing out the emotions of her sub and engendering worship through sexuality and sensuality. Not all Dommes had specialties. Mistress Alecia-Jade and Ombra-Jade were more generalized Domme’s that provided many different services.

 

The fet-event never went over thirty people. Her bedroom, (the second largest room in the place,) and the smallest bedroom, (which served as her office,) were kept locked. Otherwise, the guests had their run of the place. The master bedroom had been turned into a dungeon. Not only because it was the biggest room, but further from the neighbors adjoining wall and had a bathroom which came in handy. She had hoped that distance would be enough, but the police had shown up last time regardless.

 

Renata heard Lisa screaming as if her body were actually on the medieval rack, and she was being torn limb from limb. Instead, Mistress Scarlett had her in the stocks and was spanking her ass to the point, a nice rosy bloom was emerging. Lisa was loving it. The increase in volume attested to that fact.

 

A general feeling of boredom and lifelessness had been plaguing her as of late. She remembered once reading about a word the French used to describe how she felt; ennui. There wasn’t an English word for it, but it was a sense of going through the motions in all aspects of life, feeling lackluster. She couldn’t pinpoint why she felt this way, or when it had started, just that she did. It was acute and troubling, like a hideous fat ally cat that camped out on your doorstep, wanted nothing more than food, and wouldn’t go away.

 

Because of this, Renata had dressed down from her normal Mistress Lucia-Jade attire tonight. Ironically, her ‘dressing-down’ was still beyond what most women would consider dressing up. She chose to wear a simple yet supple pair of leather pants, and an unadorned red satin corset.

 

She stood in the doorway of the dungeon and attempted to glare at Lisa with a warning gaze.  It did no good. Lisa was too far gone into her ‘brat’ space to hold back.

 

“Can we not gag her with a ball gag?” Renata deadpanned to Mistress Scarlett.

 

“I would, but it’s a hard limit for her. Nothing in the mouth.”

 

Renata sighed deeply again. She thought she had remembered that but wasn’t sure.

 

She either had to find a new place when it was her turn to host or sell. She wasn’t quite ready to sell. Hence why she had been at the Fairfax Business Suites a few weeks back – to scope it out and possibly give it a test run as an alternate party location.

 

She never did Scene in hotels with her clients, so picking that particular one had been random. She ran her business solely out of her home and brought clients to her personal dungeon. None of her clients thus far had a problem with ball-gags. Most preferred it, so noise was not an issue with clients.

 

Renata had not intended to have a one-night stand with Susan, but when she’d seen the beautiful brown-skinned woman sitting on the barstool, her libido had kicked into overdrive. She immediately wanted to flirt with this one. Renata was bisexual, but it had been forever since she’d been in a committed relationship with either a man or a woman. Her past two had ended in disaster. So, she kept herself aloof from romance and created a love affair solely with her house project and career.

 

After only a bit of interaction, Renata could sense that Susan wasn’t interested in dating, but Renata did have a room for the night… She thought what the hell. If the woman seemed willing, Renata was game as well.

 

Double bonus on the impromptu sex if she could test out the room for a soundcheck. She’d hoped the woman would be a screamer, and Susan had delivered. Boy, did she deliver! Renata hadn’t had a night of passion like that in ages.

 

She wasn’t sure why she felt so bored and listless about life, but that one night had gotten her blood pumping again – even if only for half a day. She wasn’t unhappy per-say, but she wasn’t exactly feeling vibrant either. She had speculated that perhaps it was her age. She was nearing the big five-O. After her encounter with Susan, she’d toyed with the idea of having more one-night stands, but casual sex didn’t seem the answer to her ennui woes either.

 

Her night with Susan had shaken her up and made her feel alive again, but if there was one thing she had a knack for, it was reading people. This woman had pain and no interest in a relationship of any kind. Susan, without a doubt, was more interested in sharing a single night of tangled limbs and passion, than pursuing something deeply emotional.

 

In the morning, when Renata left, she had felt so torn. On the one hand, she wanted to leave her number, but she was also not one to pursue someone who didn’t want to be pursued.

 

Renata thought she’d never see Susan again.

 

She’d just requested that Mistress Scarlett try and have Lisa keep it down when three firm knocks resounded at the front door. When Renata answered the knock, she was utterly shocked to see Susan as the attending officer.

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Susan’s Story – Part Five

Susan staggered back when the door popped open. The exotic beauty, Renata, took one look at her, and her lips slowly curled up into that gorgeous smile of hers.

 

“Um…oh!” Susan exclaimed.

 

Officer Schwartz wasn’t the brightest bulb on the tree but, even he noticed that Susan’s professional demeanor faltered for half a beat. He leered at Renata and then cut his gaze to Susan with curiosity.

 

Susan regained her composure quickly but not quickly enough.

 

Damn it, Schwartz knows I know her. How am I going to explain this?

 

“Ma’am, we received a noise complaint from your neighbor. Susan said.

 

“It sounds like someone is under duress. Do you mind if we come in?” Officer Schwartz asked.

 

Renata’s tone was soft and soothing. Maybe even a little patronizing. “Unfortunately, I do mind. I know my rights, and unless you have probable cause, or are invited in, you are not permitted to enter. I cannot let you enter. Because you see, I am having an adult party. For the discretion of my guests, I do not think it wise to let you come in. However, I can assure you everything is fine. Perhaps things just got a bit – loud…” Renata’s voice trailed off on the last word, and she grinned wickedly.

 

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She’d have to thank Henry later on for coming up behind her just as she was finishing her statement. He sidled up next to her in the doorway. He was only wearing a man-thong and black eye mask. He donned a riding crop in one hand. “Everything okay?” He asked, looking from the officers to Renata.

 

Schwartz’s face broke into a scrutinizing once-over at Henry’s outfit. Or rather lack thereof. The officer’s disgust oozing from his expression was impossible to miss.

 

Susan cleared her throat. “Well, it’s on record that you’ve had noise complaints in the past from your parties, ma’am. Just remember the noise curfew in the neighborhood is 2 a.m. on weekends,” Susan said. “As long as everything is okay, we’ll be on our way.”

 

“Everything is fine,” Renata soothingly reassured.

 

Officer Schwartz turned immediately to head back to the car, leaving Susan behind. She was about to follow when Renata whispered softly, “It’s good to see you again, Susan.”

 

Susan didn’t know what to say, so she nodded. “Just – keep it down.”

 

“It would seem the tables have turned. I am the loud one tonight,” Renata smirked playfully.

 

Susan opened her mouth to say something and closed it tight.

 

Henry looked between the two of them and smiled knowingly. He turned on his heel and left them alone.

 

Susan bowed her head in a parting gesture and tried to turn and leave, but Renata’s hand shot out and gently grabbed Susan’s wrist. Susan stopped and looked up.

 

“When are you off your shift?” Renata asked.

 

“I—” Susan hesitated, not sure how to answer. The sexual gratification and emotions she’d felt on that one night hit her like a gale-force wind practically knocking her backward. Sure, she’d love to have a repeat of that night, but this was not the time to discuss it. And yet, what were the odds in a city with millions, she’d see this woman in a chance encounter again?

 

Renata was studying her face, and sensing her reticence said, “You are busy. I am sorry. I am perhaps out of line to ask you that question. I tell you what. I will be awake until three a.m. Usually, my guests are gone by one. It takes me a bit to clean up and wind down. I will extend an open invitation. Now that you know where I live, come back if you are off before three.” Renata smiled and quickly closed the door before Susan could respond.

 

Susan slowly made her way down the twenty-foot walkway to the curb where their car was parked and got in.

 

“What was that about?” Schwartz was on her like a rabid dog who’d just found a meaty bone.

 

“What was – what – about?” Susan said.

 

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” He said. “You acted like you knew her. She was talking to you before you left. What did she say?”

 

None of your damn business… “She was asking me if I went to that Starbucks often?”

 

“Starbucks!?” Schwartz said incredulously. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

 

“I saw her in my local Starbucks this morning. She was actually in line behind me and asked me for the time. She usually uses her Google pay or Fitbit or something, to pay for her drink, but it had just died.”

 

“No kidding?” Schwartz asked.

 

“Yeah, uncanny, huh? The line was pretty long. She wasn’t sure if she had time to go back to her car and wait in line again. I offered to hold her place so she could run and get her phone or wallet or whatever.”

 

Schwartz grunted then mumbled, “Small world.” He glanced over at her, then eyes were back on the road.

 

Susan sighed and looked out the window. She was unsure if he bought the story or not, but his lack of further interrogation would indicate he did. The best lies were mingled with truth. At least that’s what she’d always heard. She ordinarily hated telling even a little white lie like that, but she’d be damned if she was going to tell her “good ole’ buddy” Schwartz even a sliver of the truth.

 

The remainder of the evening was quiet – odd for a Saturday night – but Susan was grateful. Her shift ended at one a.m., and Schwartz seemed itching with impatience to be done and gone. Payday had commenced only twelve hours prior – and The Little Lady Bar and Casino was Schwartz’s favorite haunt. Susan only knew this from all the free casino merch that littered his desk. Pens, cups, tokens, a water bottle, little plastic membership cards… One might have questioned if he worked there instead of the LVPD.

 

What was the difference between vice and addiction? Susan, being no stranger to the addicts’ persona, had maintained a personal philosophy. A vice was a potentially addictive lure that you wanted to indulge in but could ultimately control. An addiction was a leech-like monster that controlled you, through slowly sucking away the essence of your life. The interesting thing was when a vice latched on and morphed into an addiction, you were already half-drained, and a slave to feeding the monster, believing you had to have it to live at all.

 

For this reason, Susan had always kept a vigilant torch of caution burning in her mind concerning anything that could unsuspectingly latch onto her and drag her to the pits of hell where she was sure her mother resided.

 

Susan rarely drank. Had never done drugs, even the 4/20. Caffeine, coffee, energy drinks, were something she was careful with as well.

 

There were only fifteen minutes left on the clock. Schwartz was bellowing out some joke to the dispatch officer who’d gotten off half an hour ago but liked to linger. It was like the dispatch officer Jones didn’t have a life outside of work. The two of them cajoled back and forth about nothing in particular.

 

Schwartz had barely touched his paperwork. She bit back her anger and forced a mild tone as she suggested that he ‘go ahead and start his weekend early – she’d finish up hers and then do his.’

 

“You aren’t half bad, Riley. Keep this up and you’ll graduate from being a rookie in no time.” He clapped her on the shoulder as he gathered his things from his desk.

 

Susan cringed at his touch. She didn’t think she could hide her annoyance even if she tried. She ground her teeth and shifted back to her desk work so he couldn’t see her face. She was tired. It had been a long a week.  

 

As Susan finished up her paperwork and then Schwartz’s, her mind drifted to Renata. Her thoughts hadn’t been far from the woman all evening long. Damn, she had looked sexy in that corset and those leather pants.

 

She couldn’t lie, she felt the pull of temptation luring her back to the possibility of another earth-shattering night. Renata had all but shouted the invite at her. She didn’t want a relationship though, and she didn’t want to become a slave to casual sex, even if it was with the most alluring woman she’d ever been with.

 

People argued that sex couldn’t become an addiction, but Susan knew that anything that stimulated endorphins could become an addiction. Besides, she’d never done “the friends with benefits” setup, and she wasn’t about to start now.

 

As she got in her car to head home, the warning bells were firing off, that she shouldn’t go. Yet, she found herself not traversing the autopilot path homeward. She found herself driving on the roads, which would take her back to Renata’s place. She absolutely knew it was a bad idea to go back. But if she could handle having two to three drinks at a bar and not become an alcoholic, was this any different? She didn’t know, but she was tired of fighting with herself. Struggling to maintain perfect control of every lurid emotion that bubbled up.

 

Several times she made her way to the turnoff and passed by it, going around the block. After three times around, something like wild abandon, fueled by exhaustion, coursed through her. That place where people say ‘fuck-it’ right before jumping out of the skydiving plane – hoping beyond hope their parachute opens. She knew she was at that place, and honestly, she wasn’t sure she cared.

 

What could one more night hurt?

 

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Susan’s Story – Part Six

Renata sat on her couch, sipping at a warm, non-alcoholic mulled cider. It was quite good. The holidays would be here next month, and the libations and refreshments reflected the upcoming festivities, but her mind was far away from the party now.

 

What were the chances of seeing the woman she’d had a one-night stand with, only a few weeks prior? It was such a big city. She didn’t believe in fate, but perhaps in this situation, she could make an exception that some God or Goddess of fate had intervened? It was hard to believe in a coincidence that huge!

 

As the party wound down, and guests left, she began to clean up. Her Sister-Domme’s offered to stay and help, but she waved them off. She lied and told them she was tired – that she would clean up in the morning.

 

However, ‘tired’ was the last thing she felt. Her body buzzed with a barely contained excitement. Her amped-up energy made it so that she could barely put on the exhausted façade, and force them to leave.

 

At last, everyone had gone by one a.m.. She realized with impatience, she potentially had to wait two more hours to see if Susan would take her up on her offer.

 

She poured herself a glass of wine. Their fet events had a strict no-booze or weed policy to ensure consent was always pure and unadulterated without mind-altering substances affecting one’s choices. Now that the guests were gone, she needed something to take the edge off.

 

She doubted Susan would stop by, but what if? What if she actually did? Wouldn’t that be something? Wouldn’t it be defying the boundaries of mere coincidence?

 

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Renata had loose spiritual beliefs and didn’t take much stock in such things, but when something this strange occurred, one had to sit up and take notice. It had to give you pause to wonder, in the very least how the universe worked.

 

She sipped at her Chardonnay and popped in a DVD of a close friend who worked in the adult industry. Her friend had just starred in another porn video and gave a copy to Renata. Renata had her friend’s entire collection. She looked forward to each video her friend produced.

 

Renata had no shame in watching porn. For that matter, she couldn’t see why people had such a stick up their asses about sex. Especially women who loved sex or wanted to be sexual. She and her porn star friend had suffered their fair share of being scrutinized, labeled as whores or harlots. Unfortunately, she didn’t see society ‘coming out of the closet’ about sex-acceptance anytime soon. It was – what it was.

 

She settled on the couch and watched the movie in the hopes of taking her mind off of the anticipation of whether Susan would show or not. She knew the video would get her turned on. She didn’t mind. Either Susan would not show, and she had her trusty B.O.B.’s (Battery Operated Boyfriend’s) who could get the job done, or Susan would show and maybe…

 

Renata picked up her phone and checked the time. It was just after 1:30 a.m. She was about to get up and refill her glass when a soft knock sounded at her door. Renata’s heart clenched with hope. It still seemed too early for Susan to show if she was going to. Sometimes guests came back because of a personal item left behind, but that was rare this late after the party ended.

 

Renata picked up the remote and switched off the television. She went to the door and opened it.

 

There she was.

 

The gorgeous ebony-skinned woman she’d had an earth-shattering one-night stand with, standing on her stoop. And she was still in her uniform. God, how sexy was that!

 

“Hey there,” Renata purred.

 

“Um, yeah, hey,” Susan cracked the barest hint of a sheepish smile.

 

“Would you like to come in, or are you back to cite me for more noise disruption to my neighbors?”

 

Susan bit her lip and tucked her chin down as she made her way inside, but Renata did not miss her face lighting up into a full smile. “I didn’t think about it. I should have changed first,” Susan said, looking down at herself with evident embarrassment.

 

“Oh, Gods, no! I’m so glad you didn’t. It’s amazingly sexy on you. Not everyone can pull off an officer’s uniform, but you do, and you do it well.” Renata locked eyes with Susan.

 

Susan opened her mouth to respond but then quickly looked down. She tilted her head up. “Thanks? I can’t tell if you are serious or mocking me,” Susan quirked an eyebrow at Renata.

 

“I’m quite serious, my dear. You look sexy as hell.”

 

Susan’s eyes went wide, and she looked away again, becoming intensely interested in Renata’s living room decor.

 

“Please sit down. Can I get you anything to drink?” Renata asked. “I have mulled cider leftover from the party. It’s quite good. Or wine—”

 

“It’s okay. I’m not in the mood to drink. I might have to drive—” Susan cut herself off. She seemed unsure of what to say.

 

“The mulled cider is non-alcoholic. Here let me get you a mug. It’s a cold night tonight, no?”

 

“It is cold out there tonight. And thank you. A warm drink sounds nice.”

 

Renata ladled out two mugs. She’d forgotten to pull the plug on the crock-pot, so the remaining cider was still warm and now extra spicy from brewing for so long. She placed some leftover tea biscuits on a plate and brought the shortbread and two mugs to her living room. She set them down on the coffee table and positioned herself on the opposite side of her ‘L-shaped’ couch. Susan had seated herself at the far end.

 

“If you’re hungry, I have more to eat. I can make you a sandwich or something more than the cookies,” Renata’s suggested. Her delicate hands picked up a tea biscuit and took a small bite.

 

“No, this is good,” Susan said. She took the hot mug in her hands and sipped it. She let out a nervous laugh. “I’m not sure what I’m even doing here. If I might be so bold to ask, why did you invite me to come back?”

 

Renata didn’t respond with words. Instead, she flashed her seductive wolfish grin and paused. It was the smile that caused both men and women to melt like putty. She studied Susan’s reaction as she supplied this calculated gesture. Yes, it had worked. Susan’s eye’s widened. She looked down and furiously fidgeted with her mug handle.

 

“If we’re being bold, I would have to say it’s because you made an impact on me. I was indeed surprised to see you at my doorstep this evening. I had hoped you would, in fact, accept my invite. It would seem that your acceptance is an unspoken signal, that I too, have made an impact on you.”

 

“I—” Susan began and then looked down. “I guess you— Um, the thing is—” Susan stuttered, trying to form a reply.

 

“—I guess I did make an impact on you,” Renata laughed lightly.

 

“I guess so,” Susan breathed out. “Honestly, I can’t believe I’m here. I just thought it was weird that I’d run into you.”

 

“I concur. Very strange indeed,” Renata said.

 

There was a silence that stretched between them. Renata felt the butterflies in her stomach going into overdrive, yet she knew how to make herself seem like the epitome of calm. She sat quietly, waiting for Susan to express what it was she wanted from showing back up tonight. Did she simply wish to have another one-night stand? Was she hoping to date? Why had Susan come back?

 

For that matter, what did Renata want? She had not had time to really consider this. She’d simply acted on impulse and invited Susan back. Did she merely want another one night stand, or something more? She couldn’t get over the coincidence of them meeting again. She had never believed lovers were fated to be together but maybe her and Susan…

 

“How did your party go?” Susan asked with forced casualness. Renata could see how nervous she was, and part of her was relishing the discomfort. It was adorable.

 

“It was fine. Nothing abnormal. We have a particularly rowdy participant who can’t control their volume. Unless I decide to move, I am afraid I will have many more noise complaints in the future.” Renata paused then said seductively, “But if you are the attending officer, I might encourage said participant to be vocal, if that’s what it takes to see you again.”

 

She’d thrown the bait and watched Susan’s face for her reaction.

 

“I don’t know that I can ensure it would always be me—” Susan stammered. “Um maybe loud parties wouldn’t be the only way you could get me to see you again,” She huffed out the words in a rush and gripped her mug tight.

 

Renata stood up and seated herself closer to Susan on the couch.

 

“I’d like that, Susan. Is that your real name?” Renata asked.

 

“It is. Is Renata yours?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“I guess you know I kinda lied about saying I was a government paper-pusher. Although to be fair, I do my fair share of paperwork as an officer,” Susan chuckled. “Can I ask what a ‘professional-people-pleaser’ is? I honestly couldn’t figure out what that meant.”

 

Susan smiled softly, and Renata felt her chest clench. She had thought Susan gorgeous from the moment she saw her sitting on that bar stool.

 

“You may. I’m a professional dominatrix.”

 

“Oh, I didn’t even think of—” Susan tried. “So does that mean you get paid to have sex—”

 

“No!” Renata cut her off with a stern tone. “It is a common misconception that a dominatrix is just a twisted and perverted prostitute. Nothing could be further from the truth. I have clients, but I am not sexually involved with any of them. In fact, most of my clients are gay men.”

 

Susan breathed a visible sigh of relief. Then as she processed what Renata had just said, her eyes widened with surprise.

 

“I know what you were thinking,” Renata supplied. “That if you found out I was a prostitute, it would put you in a compromising situation as an officer of the law?”

 

Susan grimaced slightly. “I’m sorry. I know we live in Vegas, and underground prostitution runs rampant. I probably should be better educated about the various aspects of the adult industry, but I have to admit, I’m not well versed in what a dominatrix does.”

 

“Well, come, let me show you.”

 

Renata stood up. She smiled and took the mug from Susan’s hands and placed it on the coffee table. She took one of Susan’s soft hands and gently pulled her up, leading her into the master bedroom, which was her dungeon.

 

She walked into the room, leaving Susan in the door frame.

 

“Clients come to me to be a submissive, and for me to dominate them. They want to be told what to do. Sometimes they want to be punished. It’s hard to wrap one’s brain around it, I know. But it can be very therapeutic for some who have past traumas and issues. Above all, they want to relinquish total control of power to someone they can trust.”

 

“Oh, wow,” Susan said. “It sounds – complicated.”

 

Renata stared at her with a stern expression. She could see Susan squirm. Her face broke into a smile, and she laughed. “I guess one could say it’s complicated. If, they don’t know what they are doing. I do know what I’m doing. Would you like me to demonstrate?”

 

“Oh… Uh… I don’t know…”

 

Watching Susan’s nervousness break into being full-on flustered, was amusing – a turn on in fact.

 

She took Susan by the hand and led her into the room.

 

Renata smirked when she felt Susan’s body shiver at her touch.

 

This was going to be fun.

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Susan’s Story – Part Seven

To say Susan felt trepidation was putting it mildly. She didn’t really know this woman. She also couldn’t lie that her preconceived notions of this lifestyle were limited to two scenarios; bored housewives who read about their fantasies in poorly written, yet wildly popular erotica novels, or individuals who actually lived out their deviant fantasies in clubs or private bedrooms. She didn’t consider herself a judgmental person, yet neither did she consider herself someone who fit into either of those two categories.

 

There was something about Renata, though. Her demeanor, her confidence, her prowess were all attributes she felt so drawn towards. Renata was unlike anyone she had ever met, and although she was a stranger, something about her engendered trust from Susan.

 

Being in law enforcement, you picked up on using that ‘sixth sense’ that humanity mentioned now and again. You got a feel for people or situations, and when your proverbial hackles rose up for no apparent reason, you paid attention! No, Renata had not set her off before, nor did she now. Susan didn’t sense any underlying malevolence from this woman.

 

Renata’s warm hand held hers firmly as she led her into a bedroom. In the bedroom, there were various pieces of furniture unlike Susan had ever seen. Her reticence to being here, doing whatever they were going to do, suddenly spiked. She felt so unsure of everything now.

 

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There was what appeared to be a cage, a giant cross in the shape of an ‘X,’ a thing that looked like an exercise bench – but not really, and a table with giant metal rings all along the edges.

 

Susan laughed nervously, “I don’t know about this. I don’t think this is really my thing.”

 

“It might not be, but at the very least, I’d like to show you what I do for a living, to put your mind at ease. People are often put off or scared of things they do not understand. If there is a subculture of individuals that is misunderstood, it is the BDSM community. Something tells me I think you of all people can understand being judged hastily or misunderstood?” Renata’s eyes were bright and intense as her gaze bore into Susan’s.

 

In half a beat, their eyes remained locked, Susan processed this statement and felt herself flush with shame. “I guess I can relate. Not just because I’m black, but cops are being portrayed more often than not as the bad guys in media these days. I have to admit growing up in the ghetto, I was one of those people who saw them as pigs, power-hungry people, corrupt assholes who didn’t care. I’m not saying police brutality isn’t a thing. Unfortunately, it is, but I’ve learned for every one bad apple there’s a handful of upstanding officers out there who really care. People like my brother—” Susan broke off suddenly on the last word and choked back the sudden welling up of emotion. She looked away and then back to Renata and forced a fake smile. “Sorry you were going to show me?”

 

Renata’s brow furrowed for a moment, and she didn’t say anything. She nodded ever so slightly and turned back to her room. She wandered from piece to piece of furniture and explained to Susan what they were called and how they were used. Susan was quiet and listened intently.

 

When Renata was done, she went to the closet and slid the doors open. There were shelves with many different tools and toys. Renata took out a bundle of red rope and turned to Susan. “Would you like to try something?”

 

“With the rope?” Susan asked, then immediately felt stupid for stating the obvious.

 

“Yes,” Renata purred.

 

Susan bit her lip. The seductive look on Renata’s face had caused her core to flood with warmth.

 

“I guess I’d like to know what you’ve got planned before I say yes.”

 

Renata’s lips curled into a grin. “Good answer! Consent and communication are the most important thing in this community. I don’t want you to do anything you are uncomfortable with. Are you claustrophobic?”

 

Susan’s eyes widened. “No…,” she said carefully.

 

“Do you have injuries or wounds that you have been recently healing from anywhere on your body?”

 

“No doctor, I have a perfect bill of health,” Susan put a hand on her hip and shook her head. “Why the third degree?”

 

“Because I know what I would like to try with you, but if you had answered yes to either of those questions, then my idea would have been out of the question.”

 

Susan nodded slightly.

 

“Have you ever heard of Shibari?” Renata asked.

 

Susan cracked a small smile. “I can’t say that I have,” Susan said.

 

“It’s a Japanese art form of rope bondage to put it simply. Repeated patterns are interwoven around the person’s body to create beautiful and artistic, yet functioning bonds.”

 

“So, you want to tie me up?” Susan smirked playfully.

 

“That would be over-simplifying it by a long shot, but yes. I will turn you into a work of art. Your body acting as my canvas. Rope bondade can be intricate enough to suspend an entire body from the ceiling, or it can be simple. I would like to try something simple with you. Would you like to be my submissive for the next half hour?” Renata asked.

 

Susan’s face grew hot, and she felt embarrassed to admit she was intrigued.

 

“I guess I could try.”

 

“I want to make sure you’re absolutely comfortable and at ease. People often don’t understand that pain and pleasure nerve endings are the same. It’s hard, for a society that has such hang-ups with sex, to comprehend that one could derive pleasure from pain. BDSM can do that, but you need to understand that if the pain isn’t pleasurable, you have to let me know. We use safewords. I would like you to have a safeword even in this trial run of doing a little Scene. Do you have something in mind?”

 

“You mean a word I use as a signal to let you know I’m too uncomfortable?”

 

Renata nodded once.

 

“Um no, not that I can think of,” Susan said. “I don’t know what I would say.”

 

“Okay, for today, we will use the generic terms a person might use when they are new to BDSM. If at any time I do something that isn’t comfortable and you want me to stop, you say ‘red.’ ‘Green if you are enjoying yourself and want me to push the envelope, and ‘yellow’ for somewhere in between. Fair enough?”

 

“I think I can manage traffic signals,” Susan quirked an eyebrow playfully.

 

“Yes, I thought you might,” Renata smiled back. “Alright, let’s begin.”

 

She closed the distance between moving in on her like prey about to become dinner. It caused Susan to emit a small gasp. Renata stood within inches of Susan, and she thought Renata was going to kiss her. She sucked in a sharp breath. Instead of kissing her, she began to slowly unbutton Susan’s shirt with slow deliberateness. Susan hadn’t expected Renata to remove her clothes, but now that she was, she didn’t want her to stop.

 

Susan’s breath caught, heat rushed between her thighs, and she felt herself give way to letting Renata take charge of her body with unexpected bliss. Renata moved onto unbuckling Susan’s belt and helping her slip out of her pants.

 

Susan was wearing navy blue satin panties and a matching bra. Renata stood back and whispered, “stunning.”

 

Susan didn’t know what to say, and she looked down at her feet. The appreciative nature with which Renata panned the length of her body, sparked more than a visceral reaction in Susan. It made her consider how Renata, this stranger appreciated her in a way Andrea had never been able to.

 

Before she could think on this further, Renata was standing mere inches from her. She reached behind Susan and unclasped her bra letting it fall to the floor. Again, Renata merely gazed at Susan’s breasts. When her eyes lifted to Susan’s, Renata bit her lip. She seemed to be having an inner conflict as if she wanted to devour Susan in one gulp. Susan’s breath hitched when she read the blatant lust in Renata’s eyes.

 

Renata slipped one finger into Susan’s panties and tugged them slowly down her thighs, the soft pads of her fingers drawing a line down Susan’s legs. Susan shuddered and began to breathe heavily. She closed her eyes tight to force herself to stay controlled.

 

Renata took the red rope and placed it carefully around Susan’s neck like a jeweler bestowing a precious necklace on a princess. Renata prowled around to Susan’s backside and she felt the rope being pulled softly alongside her neck. She could feel Renata working the rope behind her.

 

Renata moved around to stand in front of Susan, and she began to form knots that panned the length of her chest and abdomen. Each time Renata created a knot, she lingered, seductively tracing a finger along Susan’s skin. Susan would shiver, her arousal slowly amping up.

 

There were now four knots strung down the front of her body. Renata moved to create the fifth knot. She knelt down, putting herself at eye level to Susan’s crotch, and Susan felt herself flood with warmth. Renata was so close, she could feel her warm breath tickling her pubic hairs. She sucked in a sharp breath when Renata carefully and slowly forced Susan’s legs apart ever so slightly. She then created the fifth knot and situated it right between the folds of Susan’s lips. Susan let out a soft mewl of pleasure as Renata’s touch grazed her clit.

 

Renata moved the remaining rope through Susan’s legs and pulling it through, the rope rode the crevice of her ass like a g-string. The soft fibers tickled and increased her arousal. Renata stood. Susan could feel her working the rope from behind yet again. Susan realized the rope was harnessed entirely around her body.

 

Renata pulled, and the knot between her thighs pressed into her clit with more pressure. Her breath notched up to rapid panting.

 

“Is this too tight?” Renata asked.

 

“No,” Susan barely breathed out the words. “No, it actually feels really good.”

 

Fuck, this is the most erotic thing I’ve ever done… I can’t believe how turned on I’m getting…

 

Susan didn’t have time for her thoughts to linger. Renata had moved around to the front again. She had separated the rope strands so that there was a strand grazing the softness of the top ridge of her breasts. Renata pulled the rope through the loop between the knots near her collarbone and just between her breasts, doubling back over each side of the loop. When she pulled at the two ends, it created a beautiful diamond formation on her chest.

 

Renata’s skilled hands worked achingly slow, brushing against the skin of Susan’s breasts causing her to burn with impatience for more, but Renata seemed to be relishing the slowness of her task, invoking blissful torture in delaying Susan’s pleasure. Susan felt herself growing warmer and wetter with each pass of the rope.

 

Susan closed her eyes as Renata yet again passed behind her and worked the rope in the middle of her back. She then moved to the front of Susan and brought the strands to rest under each of her breasts, meeting where the third knot on her sternum was situated. Renata had created a beautiful and intricate bra. Susan was stunned as she watched her, and she was shocked at how turned on she was. Renata kept working the ropes in the front, then around the back. She, at last, could feel Renata working the rope behind her and securing it in place.

 

She took Susan’s hand and led her to the closet, where she opened a door. A mirror hung on the inside. She removed a hand mirror from the toy cabinet and handed it to Susan so she could see the intricate lacing in the back as well as the front.

 

Susan was in awe. Four diamond shapes ran the length of her front side, and the back looked like a beautiful corset.

 

“What do you think?” Renata asked with a confidend, knowing edge in her tone.

 

“I’m speechless,” Susan breathed out. The red woven strands against the dark ebony of her skin was an exquisite contrast. She felt beautiful and marveled at how Renata in only two encounters, could make her feel more beautiful than Andrea had in their entire relationship.

 

“It’s a simple binding pattern. It’s actually called Hishi Karada. Or in English ‘rope dress’,” Renata whispered in Susan’s ear over her shoulder.

 

Renata stood behind her in the mirror and ran a playful nail tracing along the rope’s lines on Susan’s skin. She shivered and heat coursed through her.

 

In one swift and compulsive motion, Susan dropped the hand mirror she was holding. She turned and placed both hands on Renata’s face, and drew her into a fevered kiss. Her soft lips parted. Renata had a lingering taste of sugar and wine on her lips.

 

Susan moved her hands up and down Renata’s bare shoulders. She wanted to remove the corset and leather pants Renata was wearing. Her hands fumbled searching for clasps or zippers to be undone, but Renata smiled through their kissing. She deliberately slowed the pace. She seemed to want to draw out the torture of Susan’s need.

 

Renata, similar to their encounter in the hotel room, guided Susan, taking the lead. She laid her back onto the floor, and sat atop her, straddling her hips. She licked each of her fingers and rubbed Susan’s nipples between her thumb and forefinger. Susan arched her back and released a moan of pleasure. Renata lowered herself to Susan and kissed her as she worked her erect nipples. The weight of Renata on top of her caused the knots between them to dig into her skin. With surprise she realized the slight pain and discomfort only heightened her arousal. She felt wetness dripping down her thighs. She moaned with ache.

 

“Please,” she begged Renata.

 

Renata’s hands slid down Susan’s body. She worked her fingers at the rope between Susan’s thighs. Renata slipped the rope aside and out of the way, allowing her entry. She then inserted her finger inside Susan and began to work it slowly back and forth. Susan let out a small scream. Renata moved her mouth and tongue across Susan’s nipples, teasing her into a frenzied state of writhing. Susan arched her back into Renata’s mouth begging for more. Renata slipped another finger inside Susan and worked the pad of her thumb around Susan’s clit as she slid back and forth.

 

“Oh God,” Susan’s whole body tensed. She could feel her excitement mounting, about to peak, and then all at once, she thrust her hips and bucked into Renata’s hand. Renata devoured Susan’s mouth with a furious kiss, smothering the scream that uncontrollably erupted from her, as she came hard. Wave after wave coursed through her and she thought it would never end.

 

At some point, their lovemaking moved to the next room, Renata’s bedroom. At some point, Renata had taken thick shears and cut the rope from Susan’s body, and they embraced uninhibited, and made love again and again. At some point, Susan woke as daylight was breaking, in the arms of this mysterious, amazing woman, and thought, “Oh God, what am I going to do?”

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This site TheDuchy.com is one of the most comprehensive and wonderful sites for Shibari tutorials, safety practices, and general information.

 

If you are interested in trying this bondage formation with a partner, please be safe, and educated yourself.

 

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Hishi Karada (‘Rope Dress’)

Susan’s Story – Part Eight

Susan looked over at the goddess of a woman, and her breath caught. Renata’s delicate curves under the thin sheet made her look like a sculpture of art. Renata seemed to be in a deep sleep, her chest rising and falling slowly.

 

Last night had been just as amazing as their first night together, but she couldn’t keep doing this. Fate or not, there was no way she wanted to be a speed-dial setting on Renata’s phone labeled ‘booty-call.’ No, she had more self-respect than that. She could quickly become all too addicted to these midnight trysts. She couldn’t let that happen either.

 

Susan lay there, staring at the ceiling, mulling things over. The sun was just starting to illuminate the room casting such a dim light that everything had a gray tone.

 

But what if Renata isn’t just fucking around with me. Maybe she wants more?

 

Susan contemplated this. Did she want this? It didn’t take long to assess that she didn’t want to go down that road either. She felt the pain of her break-up with Andrea, and the grief with her brother’s death flood her chest like hot tar, sticking, clinging, and still burning like hell.

 

Andrea had been cheating on her, but had it started after she’d neglected the relationship? After her brother’s death? She knew cheating was cheating, and it was fucked up. Andrea was fifty percent to blame. Yet, she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that for her half, if she’d been more engaged and present, maybe Andrea wouldn’t have strayed. They had been fine. Everything had seemed fine until Susan had completely emotionally collapsed after James’ death.

 

She couldn’t get involved with Renata on a deep level. She knew she wasn’t emotionally stable enough to give back in a relationship. Her failings with Andrea proved that. If Renata wasn’t just looking for a ‘friends-with-benefits-casual-hook-up’ now and then, Susan didn’t think she could fill Renata’s needs. Renata seemed like a nice person, and if she was, she deserved better than having to deal with Susan’s emotional drama and trauma right now. That wasn’t fair to her.

 

She decided, it was cliché, but she’d leave a note on the coffee table thanking Renata and telling her, ‘it was nice, but she didn’t think getting into any sort of relationship was what she wanted right now.’ That would cover either sort of situation Renata might be hoping for.

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Susan slipped from the bed and tried to quietly make her way out of the room. She needed to get back to the playroom and retrieve her clothes, get dressed, and leave. She moved to the door and slowly opened it. It made a creaking noise that probably wasn’t all that loud, except it was when you were going for total silence.

 

Susan glanced at the bed. Renata stirred, and her eyes opened. She seemed to immediately notice the vacancy on the other side of the bed. Susan had a split-second decision to hurry up and leave – maybe Renata wouldn’t see her – or own it and say something. Susan sighed. She sometimes wished she could just ignore her nagging conscience. If there was one thing Susan wasn’t, it was a coward.

 

“Hey, sorry to wake you. I’m just going to grab my clothes and get out of your hair,” Susan offered the excuse. Even as it left her mouth, she thought it sounded lame.

 

Renata sat up, covering her ample breasts with the sheet. She cocked an eyebrow, “Ya know I didn’t take you for a ‘love em’ and ‘leave em’ kinda gal.” Her tone was both teasing and imploring.

 

Susan was momentarily rendered speechless. Standing there naked in the doorway only served to increase her awkwardness and embarrassment for doing precisely what Renata had just suggested. Being called out for it, only made her feel that much worse.

 

“I—” Susan stammered.

 

Renata pulled the covers back and stood up. She went to her closet and pulled out two robes. One was silk and the other was a soft fluffy chenille. She moved to Susan and momentarily weighed the decision of which one to give her. After half a beat, she handed Susan the navy-blue silk robe. “I think blue is really your color.” Renata winked, then added, “I also didn’t take you to be a morning person, but no difference. I have coffee and can make us breakfast.”

 

Susan took the robe and put it on. She didn’t really want to; otherwise she was going to give Renata the wrong impression. She also didn’t like the alternative of standing there naked and feeling exposed in more ways than one.

 

“Honestly, I really should get going. You don’t have to bother with coffee or breakfast. I’m fine,” Susan said. “Last night was wonderful. It really was, but—”

 

“Do you have somewhere you need to be?” Renata asked with the confident tone of someone who already knows the answer to the question she just posed. Renata swung the bedroom door open. She walked past Susan, with the air of assumption that Susan would follow.

 

“I have to be at work.” Susan blurted out, then cringed inwardly at the lie. She followed Renata down the hallway and into her kitchenette area.

 

Renata turned and cocked her head to the side. “Really?” She said playfully. “I thought you worked the night-shift? Isn’t that odd for them to schedule you for night patrol and a morning shift back to back?”

 

Susan blew out a breath of defeat. She slumped into one of Renata’s dining room chairs in the kitchenette area. She scrubbed her hands over her face once, and then looked up. Renata was already in the kitchen, pulling items out of her cupboards and the fridge.

 

“Honestly, I just don’t think I can be in any kind of relationship right now, casual or otherwise. You seem like a really nice person. I don’t know what you’re expecting to get out of this, but either way, I don’t think I can put in the energy it takes to maintain a relationship of any kind, and be in a committed situation. I’ve just got a lot going on in my life, and it would probably be more than you’d want to deal with…” Susan exhaled a long breath again, as she let her ramblings trail off.

 

Renata nodded sympathetically as she scooped coffee grounds into a French press. “So, you are prone to cheat on your lovers when you are stressed out?” Renata teased.

 

“No! That’s not what I meant at all,” Susan bristled.

 

Renata looked penitent. “I am sorry. Perhaps it was a bad joke. I meant no offense.”

 

Susan sighed. “No, I’m probably just overly sensitive. I’m just in a certain place in life, and I think taking on a relationship wouldn’t be healthy for either of us. I wouldn’t be able to give back…” Her voice trailed off again. A lump formed in her throat and she quickly looked away, diverting her gaze to the window on her left.

 

Renata continued nodding her head up and down in that slow, understanding gesture. She quietly moved about the kitchen. Susan waited for her to say something. No reply came. She just continued on in silence, preparing breakfast for the two of them.

 

Renata set a timer on the oven for four minutes. She then took out a cutting board and began to cut up two apples and a pear. She peeled an orange and placed the slices on the plate along with some red grapes. She put English muffins in the toaster oven and pulled various condiments from the fridge.

 

Susan didn’t know what else to do but sit there and wait. She felt mixed emotions. She was slightly annoyed that Renata seemed to have completely ignored her heartfelt admission, but she also felt intrigued. Renata gave off a mischievous air of being up to something, but even in the short time Susan had spent with this woman, she always seemed ‘up to something.’ Yet, her face subtly indicated she was pensive and contemplative? She couldn’t be sure.

 

Part of Susan felt imposing just sitting there. She felt inclined to offer to help, but that would indicate she had relented to stay or send some unspoken message to Renata that she hoped they could take things beyond the sex. She really shouldn’t stay, but she was already sitting. Getting up and leaving also seemed completely rude now that Renata was going through the trouble of making them breakfast.

 

The timer went off and filled the silence with such a resounding noise, it sounded louder than an ordinary kitchen timer should. Renata slowly pushed the knob down on her French press. She moved back and forth placing items on the table in front of Susan; coffee cups, plates and cutlery, cream and sugar, butter and jam, the fruit plate, and the muffins. Renata would glance at Susan now and again during these tasks, and flash a bright smile.

 

No one should look that smooth, this early in the morning, doing mundane tasks, Susan thought. Renata’s movements were graceful, and she moved with a contradicting purposeful-nonchalance that kept Susan fixated. Her mussed up bed-hair was both cute and sexy all in one stroke. Her body under that robe was completely bare…

 

Stop it! Susan inwardly chided herself. If you were in a better place, you could definitely make a go at dating her, but you aren’t! So, stop this. Stop making yourself more attracted to her than you already are.

 

Renata finished setting the table, sat down directly across from Susan, and smiled. Susan didn’t quite know what to do, so she gingerly selected a few apple slices, placed them on her plate, and buttered a muffin, poured some coffee, and nibbled at the food.

 

“So, what I hear you saying is that you think you would be a burden to me if we tried to date? Is that correct?”

 

Susan nearly choked on her apple she’d been chewing. Renata was about as subtle as a lightning bolt to the chest.

 

“I— I’m not sure that’s quite what I meant,” Susan said slowly.

 

Again, Renata didn’t respond immediately, as she seemed to consider Susan’s reply.

 

Renata sipped at her coffee, and her light brown eyes bore into Susan’s over the rim of the cup. She set the cup down. “You don’t really know me. I think it’s my decision to make whether you would be a burden or not, no?”

 

Susan was astonished at the audacity of her directness. She couldn’t think of an intelligible response.

 

Renata pressed on. “I think that if you don’t really like me, for any reason at all, that is a better reason to reject me. However, if there is chemistry between us, and clearly both times we have been together have proved there is, then perhaps we should at least try to take things further. We have proved there is physical chemistry, maybe there could be emotional chemistry as well? What can it hurt?”

 

Renata said this so flippantly that Susan almost found herself believing it was that easy. Renata stared at her for a moment and then averted her eyes to fill her plate with food.

 

Susan winced at the dilemma churning inside her. She was so torn, and it seemed like an impossible task to explain to this incredible woman, that it wasn’t that simple. Now, if she rejected Renata, she’d think it was because there was something about Renata that wasn’t sitting well with Susan. It wasn’t that, and she didn’t want to give Renata that impression. However, Renata seemed unwilling to understand or accept Susan’s reason as to why she didn’t want to move further along.

 

“I don’t know,” was all Susan could say.

 

Renata chuckled, “I’m not asking you to marry me. I would like to take you out on a simple date. Can I take you to dinner? And maybe a movie or a show? A good ole’ fashion cliché date,” Renata grinned.

 

Susan cracked a small smile. She still felt hesitant.

 

Renata said teasingly, “Ya know, things could go terribly wrong. The chemistry on this hypothetical date could be a disaster, and then you would have sat here fretting and worrying over nothing.” Renata paused dramatically. “Orrrrr,” she drew this word out slowly, “you could decline, and be left with the regret of what might have been? And ‘what might have been,’ could be something truly great. If you decline, you’ll never know.” Renata’s eyebrows arched in a knowing gesture, and she sipped at her coffee again.

 

Despite herself, Susan chuckled. She couldn’t seem to find a sensible argument to Renata’s rebuttals. She found herself easing into the thought, Yes, just one date. How can I possibly refuse this woman?

 

“Alright,” Susan heard herself saying the words out loud. “I guess you’re right. One date can’t hurt.”

Enjoying the story? See something that could be improved on? Leave a comment down below!

Susan’s Story – Part Nine

 “Honey, we’re gonna be here a while, so I’m helping myself to your alcohol cupboard,” Harry said when he walked in and took one look at the mountain of clothing on Renata’s bed.

 

Renata rolled her eyes. A gesture Harry took as, she wasn’t going to object, as he sashayed by. Renata could hear the blender’s motor, and Harry returned a moment later, flopped into her reading chair, propping his legs up over the arm.

 

She unzipped the black cocktail dress and threw it on the bed to the ever-mounting pile of clothing. She pulled out another dress and slipped it on. Renata was about as prone to fickleness as an accountant was to frivolity.

 

Harry slurped noisily at his mango daiquiri and flashed a bemused smile at Renata. “I haven’t seen you this nervous in—” Harry paused absentmindedly and ran his finger along the condensation on the hurricane glass. “Well, to be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you nervous at all, my dear. You say it’s the officer who showed up the night of the party?”

 

“M’mh,” she nodded absentmindedly as she continued to rummage through her closet.

 

“I remember her. I didn’t get too good of a look over your shoulder, but I remember she was beautiful.”

 

Renata cut her eyes over at Harry with a mock questioning expression.

 

“Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I can’t objectively observe that a woman is beautiful,” Harry smiled over the rim of his drink.

 

Renata chuckled. “I know. I am teasing you.” She held up a black dress and a red one. She moved them back and forth in front of her body. “This one, or this one?”

 

“Woman, you know I think red is your color. It brings out the ‘Dragon Lady’ in your eyes.”

 

Renata rolled her eyes. “First off, I resent that remark. I am Latina, not Asian. Secondly, I’m taking note of your orneriness. Your Mistress will remember this later, pet.” Renata smirked playfully.

 

“Firstly, I wasn’t referencing ethnicity. I was making snarky comments about your demeanor, and Asian or not, you are a Dragon Lady at the best and worst of times. Secondly, Mistress, I’m counting on it. Why do you think I’m trying to poke the dragon?” Harry’s grin widened.

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Harry had come to Renata as a client several years back because he was a sub, but his lover was unwilling to participate in flogging or spanking him. However, Harry’s lover had given his blessing for Harry to hire a professional Mistress. Through the years, Harry and Renata had defied the odds and had managed to maintain a successful professional and personal relationship.

 

“Fine, I’m going with red, but not because of your ‘Dragon Lady’ comment.” She narrowed her eyes playfully at Harry and slipped the dress on. “I do look stunning in red. It’s my color.” She smoothed the fabric down at the curve of her hips, feeling smug as she admired her figure in the mirror. She knew most women at thirty would kill for the figure she had at fifty.

 

Renata sat down at her vanity to apply her makeup and pull the curlers out of her hair.

 

“So, where are you taking her?” Harry pried.

 

“You know that place with the Wine Angels at Mandalay Bay?”

 

“Aww, I’m so jelly. I want someone to take me to the Wine Angels restaurant.”

 

“With that whine of yours, I can understand why no one takes you to such places.”

 

“Hey!” Harry threw a small decorative pillow at Renata’s back.

 

The soft blow of the pillow caused her to flinch, and she smudged her eyeshadow. “You will pay dearly for that one, my pet,” she said with a calmness she did not feel. “We are begging to be punished later, aren’t we?”

 

“To be sure.” Harry sighed melodramatically.  “I’m bored. And jealous because it’s our movie night.”

 

“You? Jealous? My bratty little sub. I can’t even fathom.” Renata’s withering tone dripped with sarcasm.

 

Harry rolled his eyes but finally said, “I’ll be fine. You need to get out and date. You haven’t in ages. It’ll be good for you, and probably for me as well. Anyway, you know I’m just teasing you, right?” Harry said, but the pout in his lip didn’t entirely diminish.

 

“I know,” Renata glanced at him in the mirror. After a moment, “I’m sorry about Levi.”

 

He shrugged. “It was for the best. He and I weren’t compatible.”

 

Renata watched him posture a casual nonchalance. She knew better though. He was hurting from his recent break-up with his lover of eight years. Harry and Levi had long since known they had problems, but stayed together out of a fear of loneliness more than anything else. Finally, Levi had done what both of them had put off for far too long and pulled the plug.

 

Renata put the finishing touches pinning up her hair into a loose ‘up-do’ then walked to stand in front of Harry. “How do I look?”

 

“Stunning, Mistress, as always.”

 

Renata bent down and kissed Harry on the forehead. “Make yourself at home but be gone by midnight in case we come back here. And don’t eat all my Ben and Jerry’s, or I’ll tan your hide so red you won’t be able to sit for a week.”

 

“Eating all of Mistresses ice-cream – check!”

 

Renata laughed heartily. She turned to make her way down the hall. Now all she had to do was wait. Her stomach clenched with a wash of nervous anxiety. She had asked Susan to meet her at her place. She wanted to surprise Susan with the details of the date she had planned. If they met and drove in together, she could also pay for the exorbitant garage parking, and take care of all the other expenses of the date.

 

Renata went to her kitchen cabinet and pulled out a glass, filled it with water, and sipped at it. She was debating whether to sit or pace when a knock sounded on her door.

 

She made her way to the door, her heels clicking on the tile, and opened it. Her breath caught. Susan was dressed in tight black slacks and a fitted navy blue shirt; simple, elegant, and yet so sexy.

 

“You remembered,” Renata’s tone was playful.

 

“Our date?” Susan laughed nervously. “Were you afraid I would forget?”

 

“No, I mean the blue blouse. It’s your color.” She gestured to Susan’s shirt with a tilt of her chin.

 

“Oh,” Susan’s eyes glanced down at herself as if she’d already forgotten what she was wearing. “Yeah, I thought you might like it.”

 

Renata smiled wolfishly, taking a moment to admire Susan, then said, “Let me just grab my purse. C’mon in while I get it.”

 

Susan stepped inside and stood in the entryway.

 

“Hello,” Harry waved. He was fully reclined on the couch, already settled in, and surfing through channels on the TV.

 

“Hi,” Susan said.

 

“Susan, Harry – Harry, Susan,” Renata called to them both as she hastily made her way to the bedroom to grab her purse. She returned and offered her arm in a gentle-womanly way to Susan. “Shall we?”

 

Susan smiled politely at Harry. “It was nice to meet you.”

 

“Have fun stormin’ the castle kids,” Harry said with a terribly affected New York accent, then winked.

 

Renata rolled her eyes and led Susan to her car. She opened the door for her and got in.

 

As they pulled out of the driveway, Susan laughed and asked, “Was that comment Harry made a hint that we’re going to Excalibur?”

 

Renata wrinkled her nose at the suggestion. “No, that was just Harry being Harry. I am taking you somewhere far more sophisticated.”

 

“Do I get to know yet?” Susan asked.

 

“Not – yet…” Renata said, drawing out her words. She wanted to be vague and mysterious to create a calculated effect. She was a sadist after all, and delaying one’s gratification was her specialty. One of the things she most relished about being a Domme.

 

They drove to the restaurant making small talk about the weather and local politics.

 

When they arrived and walked into the restaurant, Aureole’s, Susan’s eyes went wide with surprise. In the middle of the room stood an enormous tower with plexiglass walls. It ensconced a four-story wine wrack. It was the obvious focal point and likely held hundreds and hundreds, if not thousands of wine bottles. A woman wearing a cat-suit as if she’d just stepped off the set of Mission Impossible was lifted up and down on guide wires as she retrieved various bottles of wine.

 

“This is way too much. You didn’t have to—” Susan tried.

 

“I never have to do anything,” Renata said. “If I ever do anything, it is because I truly want to.”

 

Susan cracked a shy smile. “This is great. Thank you.”

 

Renata beamed.

 

They were seated, and the sommelier offered them an iPad to share and asked, “Have we been here before? Or is this your first time?”

 

Renata answered. “I have, but my date has not.”

 

The sommelier smiled and launched into her memorized introduction to the restaurants’ main attraction. She explained how to access the extensive wine list on the device, boasting the largest selection on The Strip with 3000 wines to choose from.

 

“Would you like a minute to look it over?” She asked.

 

Renata turned to Susan. “Do you have any requests?”

 

Susan looked overwhelmed. “I think I’m content to just let you order for the two of us tonight.”

 

Renata turned back to the sommelier. “Yes, we’ll look it over, as we’ll have something different with our dinner, but to get started, we’ll have the Pinot Noir from Willamette Valley. I like the light fruitiness of Oregon wines,” Renata said this last part to Susan more than the sommelier. “We’ll also order the charcuterie fruit and cheese board as our appetizer to get us started.”

 

The sommelier smiled politely and said, “Excellent, we’ll get that put in and be back shortly.”

 

“Have you truly never heard of this place?”

 

“I haven’t. I don’t come down to The Strip much. To be honest, I’m more of a stay at home, read a book, or watch a movie, kinda gal.” Susan said. Then hurried to tack on, “This is really wonderful though! I should get out more.”

 

Renata chuckled. “You and Harry would get along very well.”

 

“So is Harry your room-mate? He seems nice.”

 

Renata laughed softly. “No, just a very good friend. He is going through a tough time, so he wanted to loiter at my house, which I do not mind. I am also his professional Mistress. Although in recent years we have become less formal about our professional workings, as our friendship has developed. To answer your question, I live alone.”

 

The sommelier returned with their wine and allowed them to taste it, then she poured them each a glass. Within minutes the appetizer arrived as well.

 

They sipped their wine. Conversation began to flow as easily as the red libations pouring from the bottle. Susan seemed delighted by the spectacle of the Wine Angels. Susan watched the acrobatic women on guide wires move up and down the tower with finesse and grace.

 

“Can I ask you something?” Susan ventured.

 

“Of course. Ask me anything you like.”

 

“What exactly do your clients pay you to do for them? I mean the other night you tied me up, but then we ended up having sex. You really don’t have sex with your clients? Off the record. I promise I’m not asking as an officer,” Susan’s words were rushed and held a hint of nervous energy.

 

“Truly, I don’t. Harry is my friend and would not mind me sharing some details of our Scenes with you. When he first came to me, he’d recently gotten out of a relationship and into another. His first relationship was with someone in The Lifestyle. Then the next relationship he got into, his partner was not interested in being a part of The Scene. He was open-minded, which was good for Harry. He allowed Harry to come to me and pay me for my services.”

 

“So, do you do Shibari with Harry?” Susan asked.

 

“Yes, he absolutely loves to be bound and gagged. It is one of his favorite things to do in Scene, among other things.” Renata wiggled her eyebrows a bit.

 

“What other things?” Susan asked, taking a bite of her cracker with goat cheese spread on it. She averted her eyes to the food.

 

Renata could tell Susan was curious but embarrassed. “He loves to be flogged and spanked.”

 

“I—” Susan began but then hastily took a sip of her wine. She set her glass down and sighed. “I guess I’m having a hard time understanding how people can want you to do these things to them.”

 

“Did you enjoy being bound by the ropes the other night?” Renata asked.

 

“I guess so, but that seems different.”

 

“Hhm, perhaps so. In some ways, yes and in other ways, no.”

 

Susan laughed. “I can’t lie. I might be a little more confused now than I was before.”

 

Renata chuckled. “Yes, I suppose I am probably confusing you. Forgive me. I have to admit that it has been quite some time since I have dated, and even longer has it been since I’ve dated someone outside the community. The Lifestyle is so much a part of who I am, I have not interacted with anyone vanilla in years.”

 

Susan raised her eyebrows. “Did you just call a black woman, vanilla?” She snorted.

 

Renata chuckled. She couldn’t tell if Susan was shocked or amused. Renata smiled seductively. “‘Vanilla’ is a term used to attribute to people who are outside the community. More specifically, people who engage in sex that is considered more conventional and normal.”

 

“So are people inside your community called chocolate?” Susan smirked.

 

Renata’s husky laughter burst out of her. “Not exactly, but maybe we should start a new trend and coin that phrase?”

 

Susan grinned at Renata’s flirtations then nodded thoughtfully as she bit into an olive. “Well I won’t lie, I went home and did some research. I downloaded a copy of ’50 Shades’ and tried to read it, but I couldn’t really get into it.”

 

Renata pursed her lips tight. She paused to think about her response. This was a good thing Susan was interested, but it irked her more than she could express, that when people typed ‘BDSM’ into a search engine, that book is what came up at the top of the list.

 

“The community, unfortunately, holds a biased perception in the eye of the general public as being deviant and perverse. The vast majority of us in the actual community were not pleased with that book. It glorifies an abusive relationship and uses BDSM as the vehicle of control by which the main love interest prefers to exert his control. I am not saying that people in the community don’t do this, but healthy s&m relationships, whether personal or professional, should not be conducted in the way those characters and their actions were portrayed. Furthermore, a good Dom or Domme would never try to coerce an individual into the lifestyle. A person is either going to be naturally drawn towards it, and their proclivities towards being a submissive, a dominant, or in some rare cases both, will organically unfold, or they will not be interested.”

 

“Oh, I didn’t even consider that book might not be accurate, much less offensive. I’m so sorry.”

 

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Do not apologize. However, let that be a lesson to you that popularity doesn’t make it a truth. Sadly, many genuine truths in life can be mired by an overwhelming consensus in the masses.”

 

“Yes, Ma’am,” Susan said with a slightly mocking tone.

 

Renata quirked an eyebrow. “It’s Mistress, actually. If you feel so inclined to go that route.” Renata was only half-joking.

 

Susan’s mouth dropped into a little ‘O’ shape and she seemed to be trying to regain her composure. She bit her lip and seemed to be considering something. She then did something that completely surprised Renata. Susan dipped her chin in a provocative gesture and stared straight into Renata’s eyes through her own hooded lids. “Okay, then. Yes, Mistress,” she challenged Renata.

 

Up until now, Susan had not taken any assertive action towards indicating she was interested in Renata’s lifestyle. Renata’s chest filled with a burst of excitement. She couldn’t have asked for a better segue into her next question. She had wondered if Susan was suited for the lifestyle. She had decided she wanted to date Susan even if Susan was not interested, but Susan couldn’t ignore the fact that Renata’s life was so thoroughly integrated with The Lifestyle.

 

She couldn’t lie, it would be wonderful to have a lover who was also her sub. There was an intimacy that enshrouded two people when they committed to a loving BDSM relationship that could never unfold in a professional relationship. As such, Renata had a void that had long since been unfulfilled.

 

Renata placed her wine glass down. Then looked Susan dead in the eyes and said, “Does any part of the BDSM lifestyle appeal to you? Is it something you’d like to try?”

 

Again, Susan’s mouth fell open in surprise. Renata was well aware that her directness would stun Susan, but it was her way. Renata felt Susan’s curiosity, her interest, but was unsure if it was merely to know more about Renata’s world, which was so interwoven into who she was. Renata waited with bated breath.

 

“I can’t lie, that when you tied me up the other night, it was a turn-on.” Susan’s expression was bashful, and she looked down at her lap.

 

Renata waited. Susan seemed to want to say more. Renata resisted the urge to reply too quickly, allowing Susan the time to process her emotions. It was not uncommon for individuals who were introduced to The Lifestyle later in their lives, to feel misgivings or shame about their piqued curiosity.

 

Susan looked up and said, “I guess I wouldn’t mind trying other things if it was like the other night.”

 

Renata’s face broke into a wide, knowing grin. “I have many other things we can try, my dear. And rest assured, I’ll break you in gently. I’m very good at that.”

 

Renata watched Susan’s reaction to her flirtatious arrogant statement. Susan was rendered speechless and seemed immediately flustered.

 

“Excuse me,” Susan said. “I’m just going to go the restroom real quick.”

 

“Of course,” Renata said with a sly smirk on her face. As she watched Susan’s sexy backside retreat to the restroom, she thought to herself, proclivities indeed.

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Susan’s Story – Part Ten

Renata and Susan enjoyed a fun yet sexually charged date. Throughout their evening meal, their sexual innuendos and flirtations continued to notch up. Then, of course, Renata, being the highly sexually charged person she was, had taken Susan to an adult-themed show.

 

They’d gone to Cirque du Soleil Zoomanity. A performance for adult eyes only. Susan had to admit, it was breath-taking, and arousing, but it only added to her already mounting sexual frustration. By the time they got back to Renata’s, it was little wonder they weren’t tearing each other’s clothes off.

 

Susan speculated that the entire date from beginning to end had been calculated and executed with detailed precision by Renata. The sensual Wine Angels, the decadent Dinner, the bawdy yet, artistic performance, even the insistence Susan park at Renata’s and they drive together to the strip, showed Renata’s devious planning.

 

Renata seemed to be up to something even now, as they stood on the stoop, despite her seemingly nonchalant demeanor. It was clear to Susan; their evening was not over yet. When Renata turned the key in her door, Susan wondered if Harry would still be splayed out on the couch, but the house was empty. She had also expected, maybe even hoped, Renata would push her up against the door, and lay siege to her, ravaging her body like that first incredible night they met.

 

Instead, Renata threw her handbag and coat on the couch, turned and asked casually, “Nightcap?”

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Susan paused in disbelief. “Um no, I’m good.” she said, trying to hide her sexual frustration. The burning ache that had ratcheted up and up, from being so close to Renata all evening, combined with the very sensual date, created arousal in Susan that had gone from a candle flame to a roaring bonfire. She was barely able to restrain herself from throwing Renata up against a wall and ripping her clothes off.

 

Renata helped Susan out of her coat, standing mere inches behind her. She leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Would you like to stay the night?”

 

Susan’s breath caught. She felt a flood of heat fill her, and her pulse quicken. The question was posed as less of an inquiry and more of an assumption that Susan would. The invitation just had to be verbalized. Renata was a woman of blissful contradiction, constantly flitting between being direct and subtle. It left Susan’s head spinning and her heart pounding with wonderful anticipation of what Renata would do next.

 

“I—” Susan huffed out a breath and licked her lips. “Yes,” she managed to barely get the words out. Renata stepped around to face Susan, then pressed her soft lips against hers.

 

Renata’s hands found their way to Susan’s hips, and she pulled Susan in close. The warmth of Renata’s body against her own, caused a fresh wave of arousal to ignite. Their kissing moved in waves of furious passion to feathery softness. Susan’s hands snaked around to Renata’s back. She fumbled to find the zipper to Renata’s dress, but Renata grabbed Susan’s arms and forced her hands back down. She gently clasped her wrists, then wove her hands into Susan’s. Renata was only going to allow Susan to hold her hands. Susan groaned with frustration.

 

Renata broke their kiss. “Come. Are you tired?”

 

“Am I tired?” Susan chuckled with disbelief. “Uh, no.”

 

“I was hoping you would say that,” Renata wiggled her eyebrows playfully. “I have some things I would like to try with you. I think you will enjoy very much.”

 

Renata lead Susan gently by the hand to the playroom.

 

Renata moved in close to Susan and began to slowly unbutton her blouse. She slipped it over Susan’s shoulders with a slow, deliberate motion that made Susan acutely aware of the texture of the fabric against her skin.

 

Is there anything this woman can’t turn into a sensual act?

 

Susan closed her eyes and let her head fall back. She felt Renata’s finger trace the soft hollow at the base of her throat, then move down to the exposed mound of her breasts above her bra. Renata’s hand traced up and along the strap of the bra. She worked her hand behind Susan’s back and then in one graceful motion, unfastened the bra letting it fall to the ground. Susan’s gasped at the cool air across her breasts, the rush of heat that flooded her between the thighs. Susan’s opened her eyes and saw the playful smirk on Renata’s face.

 

Renata then began to unfasten her pants. She worked the pants down over her hips and waited for Susan to step out of them. Susan was so aroused she ached for Renata to touch her.

 

Susan hoped she would remove her panties but to her disappointment, Renata left this meager article of clothing on her. It felt torturous, but Susan didn’t object. Renata took Susan by the hand and pulled her to the large fixture in the corner of the room shaped like a giant ‘X.’

 

“This is the cross,” Renata explained. “We’re going to use this tonight if you are willing?”

 

Susan bobbed her head up and down. Her curiosity was beyond piqued. An unexplainable force had completely disintegrated her willpower. She wanted to lay herself bare before and allow Renata to with as she pleased. Susan’s minds was beyond doubt and apprehension. She had crossed a threshold of no return.

 

Without any other words, Renata inched Susan’s body towards the cross and motioned for her to lay her chest against it. She then took each of Susan’s arms, one at a time, and placed soft leather cuffs on them. She took the cuffs and snapped them into place on the top-most points of the cross. Renata moved her hand between Susan’s thighs to widen her stance. Susan was now in a standing spread-eagle position. She felt vulnerable, and yet it surprised her how this excited her as well.

 

“Is this okay?” Renata asked.

 

Susan bit her lip and nodded her head ‘yes.’

 

“I want you to respond, ‘Yes, Mistress’, or ‘No, Mistress.’”

 

Susan licked her lips and said, “Yes, Mistress.”

 

“Very good,” Renata smiled and leaned into kiss Susan softly on the lips. It was a tender and loving gesture. For some reason, this took Susan aback, and her core flooded with heat.

 

“Do we remember our safeword, my beauty?”

 

“Yes, Mistress,” Susan breathed out.

 

Susan could hear Renata moving quietly about the room. Susan kept her head low and forehead pressed against the slats of the cross.

 

“I’m just going to warm you up. This will feel good. I’m going to use a flogger. Are you okay with this?”

 

“Yes, Mistress.”

 

Then the sensation and sound came. The soft thumping of the flog against her back. Surprisingly it created a relaxing sensation as the leather lightly smacked and brushed against her skin. Renata was using soft downward strokes, barely flogging her. She continued with this rhythm for several minutes.

 

Then, Renata stopped and ran her soft fingertips down Susan’s back in a tender caress. She continued to touch Susan with a soothing hand as she spoke, “Many say the sub has all the power, but I believe this to be inaccurate. In any loving relationship, there must be a balance of power. BDSM is all about a power exchange, but the exchange must be in harmony with the two individuals involved. You, my beauty, as the sub, hold all the power to dictate where your boundaries lie. I, as the Domme, hold all the power in caring for your needs and respecting those boundaries when we are in Scene. Do you understand?”

 

Susan thought about this for a moment before she responded. “To be honest, I don’t know if I do completely understand, but—” Susan stopped and bit her lip, tentative to continue.

 

“Yes—” Renata encouraged her on.

 

“I would like to learn.”

 

Renata had moved to the side of the cross where Susan could see her. “Don’t forget to address your Mistress with her appropriate title, when in Scene. It’s a sign of respect and subservience to your caretaker. So, come again?”

 

“I would like to learn, Mistress.”

 

“Then I shall teach you,” Renata flashed her wolfish grin, and moved to stand behind Susan again. “I will flog you very lightly so we can determine your thresh-hold. You will count and use your safewords to indicate harder or softer lashes. Green, will mean harder. Yellow, will mean softer, and red, will mean you need to stop altogether.”

 

“Yes, Mistress.”

 

The tassels of the flog came down hard, but surprisingly not uncomfortable. Even more startling was her rush of arousal as she felt herself flush with heat and wetness.

 

“You will count the lashes, my beauty,” Renata said.

 

Susan nodded and said, “One.”

 

Thwack!

 

“Two. Green.”

 

“Really? Okay, then.” Susan noted the surprise in Renata’s tone but had little to ponder this before the next lash came.

 

Thwack!

 

Susan let out a guttural moan of pleasure. “Three.” She licked her lips. “Green.”

 

The next lash did hurt, but again Susan was surprised how the blissful sting of the leather was all at once exciting and relaxing. It seemed impossible but she found herself easily melting into Renata’s dominance.

 

“I am going to keep you at this intensity. If you need softer blows, remember, yellow.”

 

“Yes, Mistress.”

 

Susan counted off the strikes. “Four… five… six… seven…” Her pulse was raced with excitement.

 

She felt herself getting lost in the heat of the strikes against her skin.

 

“Fifteen… sixteen… seventeen…”

 

Renata stopped intermittently and softly whispered in Susan’s ears, murmurings, inquiring as to how she felt, all the while rubbing a soft hand tenderly across her back. Then the strikes would start again.

 

She felt her body buzzing and her mind floating.

 

“Twenty-seven… twenty-eight… twenty-nine… thirty.”

 

Susan was panting heavily as she counted off the last lash.

 

At some point, the pain ceased to be pain. It was a sensation unlike anything she’d ever felt. Something began to well up in her, as her emotions bubbled to the surface and seemed to expand in every nerve in her body. Then all at once, suddenly, and without warning, she began to cry.

 

Renata was there instantly, removing the cuffs, and easing her into a sitting position on the floor. Susan collapsed and let Renata cradled her against her body. She held Susan in a firm embrace as the tears began to flow uncontrollably.

 

“Shh… Just let it out. Don’t think or analyze. Don’t be ashamed. Just feel,” Renata said with soothing, yet authoritative firmness.

 

Susan’s body shuddered with great, wracking sobs. She clung to Renata like a life-line. She wept like she never had before. The dam of her emotions had broken, and she couldn’t staunch the flow, even if she tried. All the pain that had built up over the months, from the loss of her brother, the betrayal of her lover, the bullying from her coworkers, it all came out in a torrent of raw emotion. Somehow, this near-stranger, whom she couldn’t explain why she trusted so wholly, held her and caught every drop of her anguish.

 

When her tears ceased, Renata dabbed at the droplets on her cheeks tenderly and pressed her lips in a tender gesture to Susan’s.

 

Renata’s kiss, her touch, spoke a language without words. It said I will hold your trust like a precious gem and treasure it. I will catch you so you can tumble into my willing arms safely. I will bear your burden of sadness. 

 

Susan gripped Renata’s shoulders as one might if they were clinging to a cliff about to fall. She pulled Renata into herself and kissed her with a fervor and passion like she never had.

 

After what seemed like only moments and yet a lifetime, Renata carefully pulled back from their kiss.

 

“I need to tend to your welts, my beauty.”

 

Susan’s face was anguished. She wanted more. She wanted them to make love.

 

Renata whispered, “I know what you want, and we will, but I would not be a good Mistress if I did not tend to all of your wounds.”

 

Renata stood and offered her hand to Susan. She pulled her up and kept Susan’s hand firmly locked in hers, as she led her to the bedroom. Renata gently sat Susan down on the edge of the bed.

 

Renata went to her bathroom and came back shortly with supplies. She applied various topical solutions to Susan’s back with her soft and gentle touch.

 

Renata then stood in front of Susan and unzipped her satin dress. In a sensual gesture, a strip-tease of sorts, she removed her arms from each of the straps and let it slide off, exposing her body in its full glory, now waiting for Susan to worship her.

 

Susan’s breath caught. Renata was on her in one fluid movement. Susan clawed at Renata’s panties and bra clasp, desperate to feel every inch of Renata’s skin against her own. Renata likewise worked at the fabric of the satin panties that Susan had been wearing, inching them off her hips and down her legs.

 

Their bodies were entwined in a bramble of limbs and emotions. Susan wanted to worship this Mistress’s body, offer her gratitude in reciprocation of what she had given Susan in just one short evening.

 

Susan straddled Renata, and Renata seemed entirely willing to let Susan pay her respects. Susan cupped Renata’s breasts and worked the hardened nubs, flicking her tongue. Renata arched her back pressing herself further into Susan’s mouth.

 

Susan trailed her tongue up and down Renata’s body until she reached the sweet crevasse between Renata’s thighs. She pressed her tongue between Renata’s smooth lips and flicked her tongue, tasting her glorious wetness, drinking it, savoring every drop. Renata let out a deep throaty moan of blissful torment. Susan could feel the nub of Renata’s clit harden and it caused her own arousal to peak.

 

She lapped softly at first, slow and torturous, causing Renata to buck and squirm. Susan slowly increased her speed and Renata’s hips rocked back and forth, pressing herself further and further into Susan’s mouth. Susan could tell by Renata’s increasing wetness, her hardness, she was about to topple over the edge. Renata tangled her hands into Susan’s hair and screamed as her hips gyrated on each powerful wave of pleasure. Susan drank the ecstasy of her lover’s release. When the high finally began to ebb, they both collapsed, breathless and sweaty, into each other’s embrace.

 

Renata made love to Susan, and Susan to Renata. They lost track of time as they moved into the early morning hours. Both were exhausted from the blissful exploration of one another, crossing paths they had never experienced with any human being in their entire lives.

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