What She Wanted

Part 5 of 8

Without even a word she pulled me to her as if I was on the end of her golden leash. A gesture and I was turning, crawling, my mouth still stuffed and tonguing her panties. I crawled with purpose, but slowly, savoring the sight before me, the first time I’d had the luxury of feasting on her frame, tip to toe. She sat on the light gray sofa, laptop open and at her side, but instead of staring at it, she was focused solely on me. One leg was tucked under her, the other dangling, her toes pressed against the hardwood floors I crawled across. I traced the delicate lines of her ankle, her calf, over her thigh, seeking my first glimpse of her flower.

I’d been basking in it for longer than I could be sure, my mouth full and yet feeling infinitely empty everywhere else. The tease we’d spoken about online. The endless tease. The hint, the trace, the breadcrumbs I would follow on the path to her pussy, her clit, her cum. She’d spelled out the way for me in her stories, in the brief exchanges we’d shared, and with each suggestion of a reward, of just a taste, there was always an obstacle, a hurdle I’d have to overcome, a barrier to surpass. And each time I’d met the challenge, desperate for the next, as if we were playing a ruthless yet tender match. How she understood the game I wanted to play, I needed to play, I begged her to play with me without even offering her any outline of the rules or even the objective.

Had I even told her what I wanted in some explicit, crude way? My head was fuzzy, the ache between my legs muddling my thoughts. Perhaps she’d always known. Perhaps I was that transparent, showing her all my cards while she held hers safely back. Offering what she wanted, what I wanted, what she carefully drew out of me just as she drew her panties out of my mouth with a smile as I knelt on all fours before her. I held my mouth open, unsure, waiting, barely containing myself when her fingers traced the line of my jaw and her voice washed over me.

“What a very good girl, princess. You’ve been so very good. Time for another reward. Would you like that?”

I nodded, the swollen, sore clit throbbing again. If she would only touch it, tease it, anything. I would do whatever it took just for her to drag her fingernails across it, send shivers up my spine and draw out the moans that felt ready to burst out of my lungs.

“Now, my darling little princess, I’ve written a little story all about how you earn the right to kiss my pussy. I thought to read it out to you, but I feel like it’s not quite finished yet. There’s something missing, and I’m not sure what it is. I thought it would be much more useful, and certainly more fun, to let the scenario play out, and we’ll see what happens. And then I’ll go back and edit the story and publish it. Would you like to help me with my story?”

I nodded. “Yes, Goddess, please.”

It was her stories, after all, that brought me here. Stories of someone who seemed like me. Tales of pretty blonde girls being punished by harsh mistresses. Scenes of punishment and denial, pain and pleasure. At first they were just there for the taking, for my own personal enjoyment, but the writing touched me in all the ways I’d fantasized about those mistresses touching me. I couldn’t stop seeing myself in her stories. I couldn’t not speak up, praise her, offer her my kindest words and let her know how each of them resonated within me. It wasn’t long before she was asking me how those stories should unfold, what seemed right for a girl whose kink fit that need. And then those conversations changed, and she was asking me what scenarios I wanted to be in, how I wanted to be punished, and finally if I wanted to be allowed to cum or not. And it had been nothing for me to respond, to lay it all out in the open for her, even when I wrote my own stories, to give myself away and reveal all.

And now I was going to be an actual part of the story, act it out and be the girl I read about? “Yes, please, Goddess. I’m yours.” There was no other possible answer.

“Would you like to kiss me, princess?” I nodded. “My lips, my body, my pussy?” I nodded again, my heart pounding in my chest, unsure I could form words. “You’ve come so far, my pretty girl. I think it’s time for you to get your wish, and my pussy is ever so ready for your attention. I’m practically dripping sitting here staring at you, writing my little scenario and wondering how it’s going to feel when your tongue laps at my pussy, what it feels like flicking across my clit.” She smiled down at me and shifted a little, her eyes locked on mine.

“You may begin here,” she said, lifting her foot to my lips. “Oh your knees, princess. Begin at the tip and work your way up to your reward.”

I shuddered and shifted, leaning into her foot, running my face across the smooth skin, inhaling the coconut scent. I cupped her heel in my palms and pressed my lips to her toes, one after another in worship, offering her my submission. Dragging my mouth across the top of her foot, I lingered at her ankle, littering her instep with kisses and moving north, slowly, deliberately, so eager to hurry, to rush north to the reward I’d sought for so long, but enjoying the moment, the slow build as I caressed her calf, surrounded her knee with tender kisses and felt the heat of her thigh.

Somewhere above me, a sharp intake of breath, goosebumps rising on her skin as I pressed on, trailing upward along her inner thigh. Already I could smell her desire, hear her breathing change, feel her shift and squirm. She pulled her other leg from underneath her and opened for me, inviting me in, but I kept moving slowly, deliberately, savoring every inch of her and letting her enjoy the tease, the torment, the building need, just as I was, my pussy empty and neglected, throbbing and desperate as I pushed closer to her heaven.

And then she was sliding forward, pushing me back and raising my eyes up to hers. “Now open, princess,” she said, and offered me the end of a long, clear dildo. I opened, felt it pushing in, slowly deeper until it was touching the back of my throat. “Good girl,” she offered, smiling. “Now, the other end goes right in my pussy,” and I watched her, my eyes glued to her perfect flower as the other end of the dildo slid right inside. She moaned as she slid it home, her tongue flashing across her lips. “Oh, my darling, here’s the scenario I just wrote. A pretty little princess fucks her Goddess with a double-ended dildo, and she works very hard to make Goddess cum. The princess pushes the dildo deep into her goddess’ pussy while taking it deep down her own throat, deeper and deeper and deeper, until her tongue can reach her goddess’ clit to make her cum.”

I swallowed around the dildo, feeling the first lines of drool dripping down my chin. Another challenge, another reward. Another obstacle to overcome to pleasure her, to please her, to surrender myself to her. I felt the tears stream down my cheeks. How she knew what I needed, what I wanted, what I existed here in her world for.

“Fuck me, princess. Goddess wants to cum,” she said, a sudden hardness to her smile, and then she laid on her side, legs open for me, and closed her eyes.

I began to fuck her.

Long, deep, slow strokes at first. My hands on her thighs, holding her open, my face buried between her legs, I fought against the invasion, sputtering, chocking, gasping for breath through my nose as I fucked her. Each thrust deeper and deeper and deeper, I closed my eyes, letting it happen, willing myself to keep going, until I felt the first contact, my lips flush against her pussy. I grunted, flashing my tongue out, blind to my aim but desperate to feel her clit, to give her what she wanted. She responded with a moan, and I felt her body shudder under me. Again and again, I fucked her hard and fast, my own desperation matching hers, my own moans echoing hers, until another infinitely deep thrust, the cock forced deeper still until my tongue found her swollen nub. I flicked and lapped and flattened my tongue, searching for her response, feeling her trembling, her moans filling the room, my ears, my head.

I shuddered, unable to breathe and the room began to swim. My knees buckled as I labored on, determined, desperately pressing my tongue against her clit, basking in her pleasure, until the world shifted, and I felt the invasion gone, the dildo pulled free and replaced with her lips, her tongue, her warm breath. I blinked through my tears, found her eyes there looking into mine, and then she pulled away and smiled.

“Good girl,” she mouthed, her voice barely a whisper. And then she guided my mouth back to her pussy, and I slid my tongue between her folds, where it belonged.