Alessandra's Conquest
By
Alessandra Tamino (alessandratamino@yahoo.com)
(Disclaimer: Names have been changed to protect the guilty! Not for minors, prudes or anyone repulsed by frank descriptions of lesbian sexual experiences.
This is the latest in the series begun by Alessandra's Awakening, but I think it can stand independently, even though I advise readers to check out the series in its entirety. Please email me with feedback! Thanks to S. for her most naughty inspiration!)
My deliciously exciting affair with Claire lasted 6 months: she was a master -- or should I say, Mistress -- at exploiting my unquenchable thirst for submission in ever-startling and ever-consuming creative ways. She intoxicated me with her artistic domination and weekly I prepared for novel delights in degradation -- not the crude inelegant sort I had thrown myself into at the club, but the succulent surrender to aesthetically discriminating depravity. When I came from Claire's ministrations I didn't just `orgasm' -- I exploded. And I'm happy to say that my slavery (and tongue!) excited her to rather marvelous orgasmic heights as well.
But she had to leave -- a great job beckoned on the West Coast and I was too ensconced in my own career to be able to follow, so we parted wistfully but amicably in the Spring, nearly a year after my introduction to the dark world of lesbian sadomasochistic love.
When summertime arrived work grew more demanding in preparation for the Fall announcements of grants to artists, so my firm typically engaged a number of temps. They assigned me one young college student for the season: Sara.
I suspected she might be trouble. She was only 19, and although her face was plain, she just radiated lithe sensuality. Her long firm legs, pert buttocks, full breasts and lovely tan held me spellbound during our first meeting. I was determined to observe all proprieties at work, however, and would never dare to risk anything stupid.... I had already taken the precaution of `dating' a man -- a good-looking, virile guy who conveniently happened to be secretly gay -- to quash the rumors about me that had begun to circulate.
Over time I appeared to have satisfied my bosses that I was a healthily heterosexual all-American girl. But I had to be vigilant in the face of temptation.
Not that I should even presume to be able to attract a tender young thing who most probably had her fill of eager boyfriends, as most girls her age did. Consequently my dealings with Sara were strictly professional.
Sara was an ideal subordinate. She carried out every task cheerfully, never took offence when asked to correct or revise or repeat something, and smiled incessantly -- at me, at least. Did I imagine she was also flirtatious with her `boss'? She seemed to have no eyes at all for the men in the office, though they clearly ogled her, and on the occasions when we had to collaborate at close quarters on a memo or report I noticed uneasily that her leg might lightly press mine, her arm might graze my own, or her hand alight on my shoulder sending thrills through my tingling cunt and my core.
Perhaps she had found me out and was simply teasing me... I grew more and more aroused but also more and more angry. The dormant domme in me was rearing her head in my fantasy life as I imagined doing to this tender teasing bitch the kinds of things Claire had so remorselessly done to me: to whip and slap her, to pinch her nipples until she cried out, to make her beg for my hand or lash or fucking fingers.
By the third week of her employment I was, frankly, in heat, pure and simple. I attempted to minimize my contact, but Sara always found a way to be `nice' -- she brought me coffee unbidden, she asked about plans for lunch, was ever-ready to run errands. In short, I could find no quarrel whatsoever with her work or attitude, except in provoking my lust. On the Friday of that week, a day when the office was allowed to dress casually, Sara wore a linen summer dress that revealed her breathtakingly athletic body (like me she was 5'7", and lean and trim). A red bandanna circled her neck: she looked divinely alluring and I squirmed all day until it was time for her to leave.
I planned to work late to finish a project and cool myself down, but Sara came into my office after the others had gone and sweetly asked whether I wouldn't mind joining her for a bite at a local café since her friends were out of town and she was on her own. I was taken aback and before I knew it I found myself agreeing. She wore no bra and the large nipples of her beautifully shaped young breasts were clearly visible, capturing my gaze.
"Well," said I to myself, "what harm can there be in being social?"
Sara was delighted and we made our way to a quiet spot within walking distance of both the office and my apartment. It was a cool summer night and the company of this attractive girl 10 years my junior both inflamed and disturbed me. I resolved to keep things strictly above board, however. As we talked of little things Sara's `plain' face grew more and more appealing, more and more attractive. Her lips were full and sensual, her eyes dark and inviting. The light deft touches of her hands across the table stoked my lustful fires into a blaze.
Not to be immodest, but I must have looked ravishing to her in the chiaroscuro of the café: my mistresses often commented on how beautiful I became when aroused, and how aromatic too! I fear that Sara couldn't help but sense and smell my burgeoning interest in her. She became more radiant and animated and I began to think of nothing but possessing her in one form or other. Our words were like a soft dreamy soundtrack playing behind the action of mutual desire.
The waiter's sudden presence at our table jolted me out of my reverie and before I knew it Sara had paid the tab. I protested vehemently but she didn't budge and I playfully told her how naughty it was for her to pull a trick like this. She demurely replied that perhaps she should be punished....
I caught my breath and attempted to ignore the implications of her remark: did she know what she was doing to me? As we moved out into the cool night air I asked whether she would need to catch a cab or bus home. She seemed crestfallen and said no, maybe she'd just go to the movies instead by herself, and thanked me for my company and said she knew how busy I must be and hurried off, almost in tears, I thought. Before I could help myself I cried out:
"Sara, wait...." She turned.
"I have an idea -- why don't you come up to my flat for a bit. We could watch a video and I'll be happy to drive you home after that: it's my way of repaying you for the nice meal tonight."
She was all smiles.
When we entered my flat I felt an immense relief. In the privacy of my home, away from the prying eyes of co-workers, I could do anything I wanted. I could explore the forbidden, I could have this tender willing flesh do my bidding -- or not. I was utterly free to choose and the exhilaration of such freedom made me dance with confidence.
I ushered Sara in and put down my things and went to the kitchen to pour a little wine while she went to the bathroom. When she returned as I waited for her with our glasses she was completely naked except for the red bandanna and her heels.
I gasped in astonishment at both her beauty and boldness:
"S-sara," I stammered.
"I'd love a glass of wine, Sandra," she coolly replied.
I started towards her, mesmerized, but she sharply interrupted:
"Get down on your fucking knees, you cunt."
I dropped immediately, a warm thrill coursing through my body.
"Now crawl over to me and make sure you don't spill a drop."
I held the glasses aloft as I made my way over to her near the sofa. She looked like a goddess. Her skin was tanned, firm, her pussy hairless and oh so tender-looking. Sara took the glass from my right hand and sipped it.
"You are very hot, Sandra, very very lovely," she murmured, "but now I'm the boss."
"Yes, S-sara," I replied, shaking with anticipation.
She took the other glass and asked whether I'd like some. I began to reply but she flung the wine in my face, pulled my head back sharply and slapped my mouth hard.
"You do NOT have my permission to speak, slut!" she directed.
I attempted to bow my head in submission but she yanked it up and again slapped me hard, three times, with her wine-soaked hand.
"You love it, bitch!"
I did. She gave me her fingers to kiss and lick and suck, silently.
"That's how you'll get your wine, sandraslut."
When I had finished licking her fingers clean she unbuttoned my silk blouse and removed my bra, exposing my small breasts with their large rock-hard nipples.
"I'm really going to enjoy playing with you, cunt, getting back at you for all those stupid meaningless make-work jobs you have me do at the office."
She pinched and pulled both nipples extremely hard and I grimaced as my cunt involuntarily shuddered. She removed her bandanna and tied my hands forcefully behind my back. I was still kneeling, topless, in front of this savage young goddess, my heart racing. I hadn't been with anyone in so long, and I was overcome by the yearning to give in to all my dark dormant desires: I wanted to shout for Sara to use me as she saw fit, but I held my tongue.
Sara poured another glass of wine for herself and returned. I was motionless. She removed the belt from my jeans and dipped the end of it into the wineglass.
"Kiss it, bitch," she commanded as she offered it to my lips.
I did as ordered, tasting the tang of leather.
The first blow landed on my navel and I gasped: it was hard but delicious.
"If you make a sound, bitch, you'll pay for it," Sara hissed. I bit my lip.
The next lashes rained across my midriff, warm and stinging. Then she worked her way up my flanks, each lash becoming harder than its predecessor.
"You like being whipped by your new boss?" she asked. I nodded and she continued and I flinched and caught my breath and winced and began to sweat as this cool beautiful goddess for whose pussy I lusted thrashed me brutally. I had never been subjected to a treatment of this intensity. The lashes hurt terribly but I loved them. Yet tears began to well in my eyes.
"Does it hurt, cunt?" Sara asked.
I nodded, still under the command to be silent.
"Good, they're supposed to," she responded mercilessly. LASH!
She now took aim at my chest and the flesh around my small delicate breasts grew red and hot. I writhed involuntarily.
"Stay still, sandraslut." Again she resumed her whipping, stinging my tumescent nipples. I thought I would faint.
"Do you want me to stop, slut?" she inquired.
I nodded out of desperation and pain.
TWACK! TWACK! She lashed even harder.
Grabbing me by the hair she asked again:
"Do you want me to stop?"
I shook my head.
"That's better." She now bent down to kiss my nipples: how exquisite her soft mouth and tongue felt!
But she quickly took aim at them again with the belt tip. My god, it was so wonderfully painful! I was so alive, so vibrant with sensation! I lost count of her strokes and finally couldn't suppress a howl as pitched forward, panting heavily.
"I thought I told you to keep quiet, bitch!"
"I'm sorry, S-sara."
She smacked my face and scolded me once again for speaking out of turn and spat on my face as well and slapped me several times for good measure. My skin tingled and my pussy ached. I longed to kiss her feet in gratitude for ministering to my innermost desires.
"Open your mouth, you helpless little bitch." I did so and she spat in it at least half a dozen times, following each by a slap across the mouth. My lips were swollen puffy from her abuse.
Sara stepped back to survey her slave. She brought out of her purse a throwaway camera and took several shots of me topless, kneeling, hands bound behind, striped with her lashings.
"A little insurance, slut, something for your friends at work to see if you get uppity."
I really should have known better. All the precautions I had taken were now for naught, and all because I relented and allowed this beautiful young bitch a kindness. But in giving myself up to her, to someone so young who had such control, I was in a strange sort of heaven.
As she stood before me I took the risk of lowering my head and kissing the tip of her left shoe. I gazed up and could fathom her own heat, so I continued, licking and kissing her leather pump, moving my tongue along the heel, placing my mouth over her exposed instep. I could feel Sara begin to quiver. I moved to the other foot and did the same and I began to smell the perfumed lust from her cunt.
With my hands still bound behind my back I turned my head sideways to lick the inside of her ankle and calf. I took my time for I could hear the soft moans issue from her lips. I brushed my own lips very very tenderly on the outside of her magnificent thighs many times before I went inwards. Sara's eyes were sick with desire. She stepped backwards and spread herself out on my sofa.
I moved in for the kill like a hungry and dangerous tigress, but slowly and with careful deliberation. I wet the cleft between her thighs and pussy with my tongue, then traced a circle around Sara's swollen moist labia. I let out a soft breath directly over her open pinkness and Sara gasped. I nudged the tip of her clitoris with the very tip of my tongue and Sara bucked, and then I slid my tongue all the way down her slit to her nether rosebud as she groaned.
I pressed my tongue and mouth ever more forcefully into her as I licked my way from top to bottom, bottom to clit, ever more deeply engaging the delicate smooth lips of her shaven cunt, ever more deeply penetrating her savory rosebud and vaginal canal, ever more quickly making the journey upwards and down, downwards and up, until Sara clutched and pulled my hair with fury while bringing my head hard against her shivering tender flesh as she came in wave upon wave of shrieking pleasure.
"Yes, you bitch," she shouted, "I'm cumming, oh you slut Sandra, YESSSSSS!"
My face was covered with young Sara's copious cum and she took it into her hands and kissed and licked it clean and she pulled and bit my lips and kissed me long and deep.... I myself was burning to come now.....
Sara then viciously pulled me to my feet by the hair (how did she know what I lusted for so well?) and ripped off my jeans and had me kneel on the sofa so that my head was down in the fold between the back and seat. My cunt and ass were fully open, fully exposed, and I could see my pink pussy clearly as it beckoned to my new goddess.
Sara gingerly licked my cunt and I sighed, knowing what would soon come. Through my spread legs I saw Sara step back and take the belt -- my belt! -- in hand again. She stroked my firm ass and I shook, then she spat on my rosebud before lashing it with expert aim and I screamed.
I sank into a delirium as the lashes grew harsher, irregular and unpredictable in tempo, and closer to my most tender parts. Again my eyes filled with tears as the belt tip stung my clitoris and the wet silky tender giving lips of my throbbing pussy, and out of sheer rebellious perversity I refused to come for my Mistress though she commanded me:
"Do it for me, bitch, come for your Sara!"
I heaved and panted but staved off the mounting pressure as Sara lashed harder and harder. I was resolved to beat her at her own game, even at the cost of a pleasure I burned for. I steeled myself against the pleas of the whip, against the crying out of every fiber of mine to give in and burst with release.
"Don't be naughty," she cried, whipping me again with increasing savagery.
I was on the verge of swooning in capitulation when the lashing suddenly ceased. All was silent for 10 -- 15 -- 20 seconds maybe, ... until finally I felt the softest, most deliciously delicate mouth bestow a much-needed kiss on my aching burning swollen yearning voraciously insatiable cunt, and I collapsed immediately into a phantasmorgasmic transport, moaning and shaking and thrashing about without control. How amazing, how powerful it was, and how beautiful was this new serene goddess! I cried uncontrollably with joy as Sara took me into her youthful arms and I begged to lick her ass and cunt in thanks, to do whatever she desired.
Eventually that night we both repaired to my bed, naked, unbound and unbridled, to continue the exploration of each other's sensual splendors: two lovelies freed by an honest slavery to the depth of their lesbian passions.
Oh what a summer it turned out to be!
(Thanks to all who took the trouble to email me with encouragement. A.T.)