The Reluctant Mistress and Her Unexpected Transition Part 22
On the way to the second floor to collect Danny, I detoured through my bedroom for a fresh pair of underwear, then to the bathroom to repair my makeup. Rebecca passed through the kitchen and fired up the burner under the tea kettle. We met in the hallway at the bottom of the stairs. I put my hand on the old crystal knob to open the door, but before I turned it, Rebecca put her hand on mine.
“One thing before we go up,” she said in a lowered voice.
“When I get in Mistress mode, you know I tend to take charge. But I want you to know that I know Danny is your slave. If I get carried away, just give me a look and I’ll back off. Okay?”
I looked at her gratefully. “Thank you. To tell you the truth, I’m a little worried about how he’s going to react when he sees that we’re lovers. I know that you sort of told him, but—”
“But nothing,” Rebecca interrupted. “He’s your slave. As you said, he signed a contract. If he is truly your slave, he’ll learn to accept it . . . he’ll have to, because I’m not giving you up.” She took my cheeks in her hands and gave me a passionate, tongue-down-your-throat kiss.
I clung to the doorknob, regaining my composure. Rebecca’s kisses did that. “I’m not giving you up, either,” I said. “Besides, he’s not losing me, he’s gaining you.”
I opened the door and led the way up the stairs.
The key to the cage was on the carpet just inside the threshold. I picked it up and flipped the light switch. “Good evening, slave,” I said, striding into the room. Danny was crouched in the cage, his head lowered and butt elevated. I was pleased to see his cock swelled in its cage. Poor thing, he must have been stroking it for hours, not knowing when I would come up, keeping himself hard for me.
I circled the cage, tapping the key on the wire frame, letting him get an eyeful of Rebecca’s heels and slender pants legs, another woman in the doorway. “As you can see, slave, we have a guest for Christmas Eve. Say hello to Mistress Rebecca.”
Danny cleared his throat. He kept his head lowered and said, “Good evening, Mistress Rebecca.”
“Good evening, Daniel Simon,” Rebecca said formally, surprising me that she used his given names. How did she even know them? Of course, I realized, she’d seen the paperwork for the checking account. I was a little taken aback, but recalled she called her husband/slave “Hamilton.” It reminded me of when mom was mad, she’d call me “Vanessa Prudence.” Honestly, I wished I had thought of it myself.
I reached over the front of the cage, inserted the key in the padlock, unlocked it and swung open the door. “Crawl out and kiss Mistress Rebecca’s shoes properly, slave,” I instructed.
Danny crawled forward to her sharply pointed shoes. Rebecca let him kiss the tips, then tilted the right shoe up on the heel, exposing the sole. “The bottom is filthy, slave, lick it clean,” she ordered.
I watched Danny turn his head, licking the sole with broad strokes of his tongue. Again, why hadn’t I thought of that? I realized I’d be getting a lesson in male domination all night long.
When he had thoroughly licked the sole, Rebecca thrust her spiked heel in his mouth, making him suck it. When she was satisfied, she pulled it out and made him repeat the process with her other shoe, first licking the sole, then sucking the stiletto heel. She caught my eye, waving me over. When she was satisfied with Danny’s performance, she said, “That’ll do, slave. Now do the same with your Mistress’s boots. I’m sure they’re as filthy as mine.”
Standing beside Rebecca, I tilted my right boot, placing it under Danny’s lips. He commenced licking the sole. I gave him thirty seconds, then put the boot down and raised the left. When he had licked the shoe to my satisfaction, I tussled his hair. “Good boy, now let’s get your leash on.” I kept it hanging on the door knob, so it was an easy reach to snap it to his collar. I gave it a sharp jerk. “Let’s go, boy, the kettle is on and Mistress Rebecca and I are looking forward to our tea.”
Downstairs, Rebecca and I took our places on the couch, admiring the Christmas tree and necking while we waited for Danny to bring in the tea service. When he walked into the room, his erect cock looked like a tent pole under his apron. Rebecca had her tongue down my throat and her hand up my skirt; my panties were already wet again. Our escapade in the dungeon had left me incredibly horny. Eyeing Danny out the corner of her eye, Rebecca snapped her fingers, motioning him over.
While I was embarrassed for Danny to walk in on us engaged in heavy petting, Rebecca was totally at ease. “Put the tray on the table and then get on your hands and knees, slave,” she ordered.
Danny put the tray on the coffee table and dropped down on all fours. “Position Five,” I instructed, wanting him to know I was still in charge. Rebecca poured our cups. We steeped the tea bags, nibbling on tree-shaped cookies that Danny had arrayed on the plate, a festive touch. I tossed a cookie under his chest. “You may eat it, pet,” I said. He picked it up with his lips off the floor and somehow managed to get it in his mouth without using his hands. Good doggy.
We sipped our tea, exchanging knowing, lustful glances. There should be a word for that, maybe there is in some other language, a succinct word for, “exquisite anticipation of wanton sex.”
Cme Here , Slave!
Rebecca started it off. “Slave, come here and remove my shoes. I want a foot rub,” she ordered. Danny crawled over to her. He undid the straps and buckles, set the shoes aside and began massaging her feet. Rebecca has beautiful feet, long and slender, with beautifully manicured nails, which I noted were painted a festive green. Rebecca leaned her head back in bliss. Danny massaged her feet just the way I had taught him, gently manipulating each toe, working his thumbs into the spaces between toes, pressing his knuckled fist against the arches. I felt a little jealous that he was devoting his attention to someone else, but it was Christmas; this was my gift to Rebecca.
When Danny had given each foot several minutes of attention, Rebecca opened her eyes and leaned forward, reaching over his head to grasp his collar. She jerked up on it so that he looked her in the eyes. “That was nice, slave. Now do the same thing with your tongue.”
“Yes, Mistress.” I noted the expression on Danny’s face, the glaze in his eyes; he was already deep into subspace. I felt a pang of disappointment. Silly, but when it had been just the two of us, it was easy to think that his journeys into subspace were entirely due to my effect on him. Obviously not.
Rebecca let go of his collar and leaned back again, enjoying the sensation of Danny lovingly sucking each of her toes, sucking on her big toe, deep throating it like it was her dick, then making firm strokes of his tongue against the bottoms of her feet, then thrusting the tip against her arches. I recalled Danny giving me this same massage once in his apartment and took note; I would demand more tongue-foot massages in the future. When Danny had given each of Rebecca’s feet several minutes of attention, she languorously spread her arms, reaching out to touch my shoulder, her eyes asking, “You, next?”
I shook my head. This was her night. I smiled and gestured with my hands, spreading my fingers wide like they were fireworks going off, signaling ‘let the games begin, the night is yours.’
She mouthed a silent “thank you” and joyfully looped her eyes. That look alone was why I loved her. “Okay, slave, that’s enough,” she announced. “Now, help me undress, I’ve been in this suit all day and it’s getting warm in here. Time to get more comfortable. Move back and stand up.”
Assuming the position
Danny crawled backwards a few feet and rose to his feet, assuming position two, his feet spread to shoulder width and hands laced behind his head, as I had trained him to do when he wore his cock cage. His erection was magnificent, lifting the weight of the cage almost horizontal, the head of his dick poking out from under the apron like a camel nosing under a tent. Rebecca leaned off the couch and stood up, took two steps forward until her abdomen was pressed against the apron. She reached behind Danny’s waist and undid the apron strings, letting it fall. Now Danny’s cage cock was pressed against her crotch like a small rocket. “Undress me, slave,” she commanded, like a queen with her handmaiden; obviously, this was something she did all the time with Hamilton. I watched, curious, wondering how Danny would respond. I had never let him undress me. So much to learn.
Danny started with the jacket, which was already unbuttoned. For a moment, he seemed perplexed about how to proceed. Then, keeping his eyes cast down, he circled behind Rebecca, stepping into the narrow space between her and the couch. Standing behind her, he slipped the jacket off her shoulders and pulled it free. She stood there, unmoving, patiently waiting, arms fanned out slightly from her sides. I watched, fascinated; I had no idea the simple act of undressing a woman could be so extremely erotic. Danny neatly folded the jacket and laid it on the couch. He returned to face Rebecca. She wore a silk blouse with buttons up the front. He fumbled clumsily, finding it difficult to push the fat buttons through skinny slots. Eventually he got them all. Her blouse opened, exposing her flat midriff and the taut belly button of a teenage fashion model. Danny grasped the lapels and pulled the blouse apart, exposing Rebecca’s magnificent breasts, uplifted in a sexy, dusk-lavender underwire bra with Chantilly lace trim, the perfect balance of cleavage and exposed flesh. I knew my slave’s eyes were popping out of his head.
“Are you just going to stare or are you going to remove my blouse?” Rebecca rebuked him.
“Sorry, Mistress.” Danny hastily lifted the blouse, forcing Rebecca to raise her arms as he pulled it free. He lay it on her jacket and stood back, awkwardly, unsure of how to proceed. “Get on your knees and undo my pants,” she said patiently, as if speaking to a child.
Danny dropped to his knees. He fumbled with the integral belt and buckle, finally got it undone, then did the buttons. The pants were tight on Rebecca’s hips, making it difficult to pull the waist down. Danny managed to get a grip on the seams and tugged the pants down, exposing Rebecca’s beautifully muscled, slender legs. Placing a hand on Danny’s head, she stepped out the pants. He folded them and added them to the small pile of clothing on the couch. “Now the panties, slave,” Rebecca instructed.
Hands trembling, Danny inserted his fingers into her panties and slipped them down, exposing Rebecca’s immaculately trimmed bush, a sight I knew well. The panties came down to her ankles and she stepped free. She took them from him and dangled them in front of his nose. “I’m giving these to you as a Christmas gift, slave. Open wide.” She pushed the panties into his mouth, filling it.
“Now this—” Rebecca pointed to her crotch, at his eye level, “—is your temple, slave, your place of worship. You will keep your head below it always, unless otherwise instructed. Is that clear?”
“Mff, mff-mff.” Danny acknowledged, bowing down.
“Stand up,” Rebecca ordered. “Put your hands behind your head.”
Danny rose to his feet and assumed the standing position. Rebecca took his rigid cock in her hand and began rubbing the head of his engorged penis against her clit. “Feels nice, doesn’t it?”
“Mff, mff-mff.” Danny gave a muffled reply, his eyes bulging, cheeks puffed out from the panties.
Eye’s on the Floor
“Eyes on the floor,” Rebecca commanded. Her left hand gripped the cage, maintaining an oscillating motion of Danny’s glans against her clit. “And don’t you dare even think about cumming. If you feel you are getting close, take a step back, is that understood?”
Danny nodded his head. “Mff, mff-mff.”
“Now I want you to listen, slave, listen carefully. Mistress Vanessa has generously decided to share you with me. That doesn’t mean you’re my slave, but it does mean that from time to time she will loan you out to me, for service or my pleasure or to your further training. Got it?”
Danny nodded his head. Rebecca increased the intensity of the oscillations, her hips and derriere gyrating in rhythm. “Good. Now the most important thing you need to know about our arrangement is that you may never—and I mean never—allow yourself to cum unless you are in the presence of your Mistress, and only with her permission. That means no matter what I do to you when I have possession of you, may not orgasm. You are to pull away or use your safe word. Is that clear?”
Danny nodded his head obediently. “Mff, mff-mff.” I watched his knees. From experience, I knew that the moment they started to buckle, he was on the cusp of an orgasm.
Rebecca pressed her groin against the head of Danny’s cock, putting her weight into it, grinding the glans against her clit. I could see she was getting aroused. Her tops of her breasts threatened to escape her brassier. I knew Danny’s downcast eyes were fixated on them. Then I saw it: Danny’s knees buckled. He stumbled backward, jerking Rebecca’s arm out. She maintained a tight grip on the cock cage, keeping him from falling backwards. He regained his balance, steadied on his feet, lungs heaving.
“I think your slave is ready, Mistress Vanessa,” Rebecca announced. “Why don’t I lead him down to the dungeon while you put on your new strap-on?”
Next: Double Teamed