Date: Wed, 7 Jul 2004 08:55:25 -0700 (PDT)
From: sonya kininski <sonyakininski@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Fireworks Continue: Part 2

The Fireworks Continue: Part 2

By

Sonya (sonyakininski@yahoo.com)


Disclaimer:  If you are under 18 or offended by
graphic depictions of lesbian sexuality with a
sadomasochistic theme, please go elsewhere.  Otherwise
feel free to email feedback.  This is a fictional
continuation of the story begun by "Holiday
Fireworks."


Part 2

I sat, spent, on the edge of my bed, musing.  It was
late afternoon. The idea of a pet lying in wait for me
stirred up my lust even though I had just been sated.
In some strange way I felt closer to the absent Alex.
I felt as if I were Jen, subdued and exhilarated by a
sadistically sexy Mistress, that I was both Jen and
Alex simultaneously somehow...  I grew confused.

It was disgusting enough to admit to the sick
pleasures of being slapped and toyed with, fucked and
humiliated, but it was even more disgusting, I
thought, to be the sadistic bitch who meted out such
alluring punishments.  What kind of person was I
really?

I had friends, good friends; I was generous, giving,
loving, affectionate to them and to family.  I didn't
steal or gossip or willfully hurt anyone in my public
life.  And yet how could I reconcile that person with
the imperiously cruel woman who had slapped her
friend, spat in her face, bound and gagged her into
total submission and thrilled at the fact of her being
completely at my mercy?  I saw the protests, the glint
of fear in her eyes, but I also saw the excited gleam
of obeisant joy.  I saw Jen's hardness melt away, saw
the craving for a commanding hand as I myself had
craved one.

I needed to take a walk, to clear my head, to come to
my senses, so I threw on a light white linen minidress
and sandals.  I kept on my white lace bra but forsook
my panties: I wanted the cool air to waft along my
thighs and to play about my wet pussy as I walked.

I emerged from my bedroom and knelt by my docile new
pet.  Jen was languorously calm, bound as she was, and
I removed the scarf from her mouth to kiss her.  She
returned my kiss with surprising fervor and I caressed
her luscious body as she purred in contentment.

"You must be hungry," I said.

"Mmmmm," she replied.

"Not for me, silly!" I playfully rejoined.  "I'm going
to get us something a little more filling, if less
pleasurable, to eat."

"Whatever you wish, Mistress," Jen whispered sultrily.

"You're awfully sweet," I replied.  Jen smiled and I
couldn't resist another passionate kiss.  Power was a
heady aphrodisiac: my lust grew.  Jen's face was
fine-featured, almost chiseled; her dark eyes were
riveting, her lips full and soft.  Yes, she was
beautiful, not merely attractive, but beautiful.

"I want to make sure you're comfortable while I'm
gone," I said.

I gagged her again effortlessly and unfastened the
scarf that held her raised foot to the rear sofa leg
and used it to tie her ankles together fairly closely.
 Then I untied the scarf holding her other foot to the
front leg.  I also detached the scarf stretching her
hands over her head and momentarily unfastened her
wrists.
I took the detached silk scarf and tied it around her
lovely narrow waist and then righted her.  She was
sitting up for me, completely docile, and I had the
impulse to slap her again, but I refrained.  Instead I
rather roughly pulled her hands behind her back and
bound her wrists and further bound them to the scarf
around her waist.

"Now, get on your knees, my sweet little cunt, and let
me guide you to the bathroom."

She complied as I grabbed a fistful of hair and led
her to the loo, where she relieved herself.  It took
at least a minute, no doubt because of the alcohol she
had imbibed, and I wiped the traces of pee from her
pretty privates for her and eased her again to her
knees.

I couldn't believe how pretty she seemed, how
kitten-like, how... grateful.  This wasn't a new person:
no, this was the person I had dimly secretly somehow
knew from all our dance classes together, all our
little talks, all the clues, all the bitching about
her husband, all her prurient interest in me and Alex.
 She simply and purely loved women, and was
discovering it rather late, like me.

Jen taught English in a private junior high school and
I imagined the effect she must have had on her
students, male and female -- and the effect they had on
her.  I wondered how she fantasized about them, those
nubile 13 and 14 year olds, and about the restraint it
must have taken.  Maybe that's where the hardness came
in, the hardness as a necessary facade, without which
she might have acted on impulse and jeopardized her
career, not to mention her entire life!  Yes, I bet
she would beg to be set upon by her young students,
and to set upon them...

As I mused I was guiding Jen slowly into my carpeted
bedroom.  The effects of her drinking had mostly worn
off but I assumed she'd be tired again after our
pleasures.

"Are you sleepy, darling?" I asked.

She nodded.

"And thirsty too, I bet," I replied.  Again she
assented.

I returned with a shallow bowl of water and set it at
my feet before removing her gag.  She leaned over
without hesitation and started lapping, my good little
pet, until I nudged the bowl over with my foot to
spill the little that remained.  And I waited.

Without direction Jen moved her head down and kissed
the arch of my right foot.  Her dark hair hung about
her face and covered my foot and I could feel her soft
lips and exquisite tongue and caught my breath as she
kissed and imperceptibly licked along my insole and
ankle and calf.  She sent amazingly erotic shivers
through me!

"Good girl," I said affectionately, "good sweet slut."
 Then I lifted her head up forcibly and replaced the
gag.  I moved her to my bed, her back to its
footboard, untied her wrists and retied them to each
of the bedposts.  She was on her knees, ankles bound
tightly to each other.  Her arms were  stretched
sideways and suspended by my scarves, and she was
gagged.  If she wished she could rise up a bit and
lean forward and let her luscious breasts dangle, or
simply rest her firm ass on the backs of her bound
legs.  I decided to fasten her bound ankles also to
the lower legs of the bed, and finally to blindfold
her.

She looked divine. I could scarcely contain myself,
scarcely imagine how aroused the sight of this willing
"womanly" young beauty would make me.  Part of me
wished to pinch and slap and hear her grateful muffled
moans, part of me to lick and stroke and stoke the
fires of her own lust to a point that became
unbearable...  All the while MY pussy grew wetter and
wetter, my throat drier and drier with pure yearning.
She was mine: she knew it, and I knew it, and we both
loved it.

I checked myself: I needed to walk, to think, to make
things clearer.

I knelt down before Jen and whispered in her ear,
softly: "You are such a pretty bitch... I can hardly
keep my hands off you, Jen," I said.  "But I'm going
to go out for a bit, love, and while I'm gone I want
you to think of how naughty it was for you to come
here drunk and make those really unkind comments about
lesbians.  So think hard about that, and about how my
sweet slutty lesbian pet deserves to be reprimanded."

The air was cool and my head swam as I meandered
aimlessly through the park and along the river.  Many
people were about but I hardly noticed them.
Eventually I landed in a cafe and ordered a latte and
a container of sliced fresh fruit  -- strawberries,
grapes, melon -- to take out.  As I sipped my coffee I
kept thinking about the willing helpless Jen, wishing
to be her, wishing more fervently for Alex never to
have left me.  But this strange new sensation of
complete control filled and excited and worried me
too.  I decided to have another coffee, to let Jen
experience what I had when Alex left me dangling that
fateful last day of our encounter, waiting, wondering,
worrying, anticipating...  Her lovely breasts called out
to me, so much fuller than my own, so ripe, but I
determined not to abuse them the way Alex had mine.
The clamps she had used left my nipples sore for weeks
afterwards, no doubt to serve as a reminder of her.
No, I would surpass my once and former Mistress in the
delicacy of my `torture'.

I had been gone for about 2 hours.  Jen sighed when I
entered the bedroom.  I removed the scarf from her
mouth and proferred strawberries, which she greedily
consumed. Yes, I had her eating out of my hand.  I
stroked her hair as she fed and I took the juice that
dribbled from the corners of her mouth and spread it
around her breasts.  I bit into a strawberry and slid
the uneaten half up and down her cunt's swollen slit.
The sudden chill caused a shudder.

I stood and whisked off my dress.  My pussy was so
wet, so wet... I rubbed a piece of melon along it and
gave it to Jen to savor and I pressed her
juice-covered mouth to my pussy and she licked me
tenderly.  I was in a special kind of heaven, a
beautiful slave at my feet ready to be taken, ready to
tend to any erotic wish.

"Jen," I said, "it's Saturday night...I'm going to keep
you here with me until tomorrow afternoon.  Do you
need to make any phone calls?"

"No, Mistress."

"You can call me Sonya for now."

"No, Sonya."

"Good."

"How do you feel?"

"Wonderful, Sonya."

"And sober?"

"Yes," she giggled. "I drank because I was afraid."

"And now, are you afraid now?" I asked.

"No, Sonya."

"Maybe you should be."

"I want to please you, Sonya, I can't believe how good
it feels to please you.  I think you're ravishing."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, dear pet," I
replied.  "And I think you're beautiful too, and I
want to take my time with you.  And of course you need
to be punished for your naughtiness."

"Yes."  I could smell her excitement.

"You've been very naughty, haven't you?"

"Yes, Sonya."

"You made me very angry, especially that crack about
lesbians."

"I'm sorry, Sonya."

I untied the long scarves that linked her ankles and
wrists to the bedposts and bade her rise, still
blindfolded.  I took her juice-coated nipples into my
mouth very delicately and Jen sighed.  I then led her
onto my bed.  Because of her bound ankles she was
forced to move very slowly.  I pushed her over the
side of the bed and lifted her knees so that she was
on all fours.  I took the scarves dangling from her
wrists and bound her hands tightly behind her back and
fastened them to the scarf around her waist.  The side
of her face rested on a pillow near the head of the
bed.

I ran my left hand along her smoothly muscled back and
then abruptly brought my right hand sharply across her
rounded firm delectable ass, leaving a red imprint.

"Ooooh," cooed Jen.

I repeated the blow and she quivered and cooed again.
My hand hurt from the force of the slaps, so I quickly
retrieved a hairbrush from my dresser.  I slowly
pressed the soft bristles along the crack of her ass
and into her pussy.  Jen wriggled involuntarily with
pleasure.

Very deliberately I took a handful of hair in my left
hand and lifted Jen's head up off the pillow.  With my
right hand I brought the flat side of the wooden brush
against her lovely buttocks.

"Oh!" she yelped.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

"No, Mistress," she replied.

I slid the brush along the upper outside part of her
right thigh and then brought it sharply down causing
her to recoil and yelp again.

"Do you know how to count, slut?" I inquired.

"Yes, Mistress," Jen said meekly.

"Can you count backwards from 21?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Good girl.  I'm very fond of mathematicians...and
mathematicians like challenges, don't they?"

"Yes..."

"Well, your challenge will be to keep count as each of
my loving strokes gets harder and harder.  Do you
think you can do that, bitch?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Start counting."

I swung and smacked her squarely in the middle of her
buttocks.

"21!"

I roughly pulled her hair and spanked my lovely pet
harder and harder.  By "15" her ass was completely
red.  I waited for the sharp stinging to subside after
each blow, and each blow became more and more intense,
as did Jen's reactions.  Her breathing quickened and
she writhed uncontrollably, but she kept the count.
Her pussy was wetter and wetter, too, the slut.  I
coated the flat side of the brush with her pussy juice
and continued to spank her fiercely.  Her counts
became cries and shrieks.  My final blow landed in
between her buttocks and caught her pussy lips.

"One!!!" Jen screamed, and as I released my hold on
her hair her face fell into the pillows.  She was
sobbing and heaving as I removed the blindfold now wet
with her tears.
I stroked her cheek.

"Are these tears of gratitude or hurt, bitch?" I
asked.

"Both, Mistress," Jen quietly replied.

"Just as they should be," I said.  "Let's try not to
be so naughty."

"No, Mistress," she sobbed.

"Good.  Now I suppose you'd like to thank me, wouldn't
you?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Of course you would."

I unbound her ankles and spread her legs and pulled
her feet towards the posts of the footboard.  Her wet
cunt was deliciously open and I ran my hand across it
and had her lick my fingers.  I loved working the
scarves.  As I tied and untied I never failed to
stroke and caress a part of her lovely body.  The
tying and untying of knots became a mesmerizing ritual
for me and a way of enhancing her excitement too.

My own pussy was dripping with desire, aching for
attention, yet I knew I had to exercise restraint.  I
slid onto the bed and pushed a pillow under my hard
smooth butt and drew Jen's face into my crotch by her
hair.  I lifted my legs upwards and backwards.

"Now, my sweet little bitch, thank your Mistress
properly: I want your lovely grateful tongue in my
ass, and I want you to stay away from my pussy unless
I tell you otherwise."

I pulled Jen's face harshly towards my anus and her
tongue sought out and reached my nether-bud.  She
circled it and swathed it and prodded it and now it
was my turn to purr.  I pulled her head rhythmically
into me and she made her tongue rigid and poked it
into my anus, deeper and deeper with each stroke.

"Lick your Mistress's ass, you slut, lick it!"  I
commanded.  Jen licked, and sucked, and prodded, and
fucked my sensitive nether-hole with her warm soft
tongue and lips.  I loved it, I loved her...But when
her tongue strayed upwards grazing my yearning cunt I
quickly recoiled and smacked her mouth.  She was
drunk, but not with alcohol: she was drunk with
submissive pleasure.  I eased my anus to her lips
again and she resumed her exquisite ministrations.
Then I pulled away again, becoming a bit frenzied.

I slid backwards toward the headboard and as she
watched I began to massage my pussy, to press my clit,
to finger my sopping clit.  The sight of her prostrate
body being denied the pleasure of pleasing me made me
hotter and hotter.

"I want you to watch, you bitch -- you have to earn the
right to please me."

So saying I kept my legs lewdly spread and worked my
hands and finger into my pussy, and I came.  Jen
suffered: I knew how fervently she wished to be the
instrument of my orgasmic explosion, how fervently she
yearned for that power over her new Mistress, how
fervently she herself wished to be licked and fucked.
But I wanted her to wait, to appreciate her
privileges.  Her night was over.  After massaging her
sore buttocks with baby oil I left her bound and
frustrated and face-down on my bed while I arose to
leave.

"Good night, slut," I whispered.

"Please, Mistress!"

"Please what?"

"Please touch me, please don't go, please touch me or
let me touch you, let me lick you and kiss you
wherever you wish!"

"I'll think about it.  Good night."

"You're a bitch!" Jen screamed. "How can you treat me
like this?  Please!  You fucking bitch I want you!  I
want you, Sonya!"

"I know you do," I replied softly, closing the bedroom
door.

End of Part 2.
Feedback welcome: sonyakininski@yahoo.com