Lesbian Dominatrix: Girl on Girl Domination and Submission

Lesbian Dominatrix: Girl on Girl Domination and Submission by Tara Cummings

Book: Lesbian Dominatrix: Girl on Girl Domination and Submission by Tara Cummings Read Free Book Online
Authors: Tara Cummings
Wendy dimmed the lights and turned on some soft music. Picking up her cane, she ran one finger lightly along its length. Gripping the delicately designed handle. She admired the tool. It was her favorite.
     
    With a hand-grip of colorful, woven rubber in a geometric pattern, the shaft was long, flexible and made a delightful whoosh when whipped through the air. The sound of it connecting with an ass was sheer music, better than any symphony could produce.
     
    I enjoyed it as well.
     
    It was me who stood before her now. She had preferred to begin a session with me standing naked and vulnerable. I wore wrist cuffs, arms spread wide and secured by chains anchored to opposite walls. Other than the wrist cuffs, ankle cuffs, collar, and chastity harness my body was pleasantly naked and waiting to serve and amuse her.
     
    She took a deep breath and focused on her feelings. She was well aware of what she wanted and how to attain that prize. My pussy was warm and wet, a constant reminder of the pleasures I would soon have. I loved that feeling.
     
    Stepping forward, she used the end of the cane to tap against my shoulder blades. My spine straightened and my body tensed ever so slightly. I was a nice looking girl, a secretary who was as in shape as a woman who played tennis three times a week would be. I was Wendy’s perfect type.
     
    The minute she was close enough to feel the heat of my body a ripple ran through my back from shoulders to ass. She skimmed the cane handle over my outstretched arms and admired how my tanned skin, slightly wet with a sheen of sweat, reflected the lower lighting.
     
    Thinking about the complete control Wendy wielded over me made her nipples harden and her breath quicken. Today was my birthday and I made a few special requests which Wendy was willing to honor. We had decided on using this nicely appointed dungeon room of a local BDSM club for our ‘celebration’.
     
    “The customary safe word?” Wendy asked.
     
    “Yes, Mistress,” I answered immediately. She ran the tip of the cane down my spine and smiled when I exhaled a soft, “Hell, yeah.”
     
    “Already?” A quick flick of Wendy’s wrist and the cane snapped forward with a lyrical whistle and slapped across my ass cheek. Small ripples worked through my flesh from the point of impact. I sucked in a quick breath and Wendy watched the muscles in my ass tense then relax.
     
    She stood back and moved her cane in a crisscross pattern over my butt.
     
    Slap. Slap, slap.
     
    I arched up on my toes and leaned back against the chains and groaned. Noises were permitted, words were not unless Wendy asked a direct question or my safe word was needed. She set her cane to the side and picked up the butt plug. She slathered a generous amount of lubricant over it before standing behind me, her body flush with mine. I could practically see the heat waves between us.
     
    Standing there, against me, for a few seconds, Wendy concentrated on her breathing and the feel of my skin against hers.
     
    She used the nail of one hand to caress my ear while she whispered. “Preparation is everything.”
     
    Using slow, steady pressure she eased the plug into place. My legs trembled and my knees dipped as much as they could from the restraining chains. Wendy brushed her lips over the back of my neck, quickening my breath. I let out a girlish whimper as she eased the plug up into me. The chains rattled as a small shiver prickled down the back of my legs.
     
    Backing up, she took her cane in hand and smacked my ass cheek twice, then my other before standing back and admiring her work. There was a lovely pattern of thin, red lines over my soft skin. She put the cane between her teeth and pulled a strap between my legs and fastened it to the waistband of the chastity belt. There was a round piece of leather that pressed between my cheeks and provided constant pressure to the plug.
     
    She sauntered around to face me with a smirk. She took the end of the

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