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Message-ID: <30933asstr$992844601@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: pami1968@aol.com (Pami1968)
Subject: {ASSM} RP "Pet" by Pami (M/F fdom) pt 2
Date: Mon, 18 Jun 2001 02:10:02 -0400
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This story contain sexual words, actions, and themes.  If you are under 21, or
the age of legal consent in your jurisdiction, move on, please.  If you don't
like this sort of thing, and consider reading erotica to be "not normal", then
move on.  If, on the other hand, you ARE of legal age, and you DO like this
sort of thing... keep on reading.

Posting of this story without my express permission is a violation of copyright
law.  Please don't test me.

This is a repost of a story I wrote quite a while ago.  I am fairly sure I
won't receive 100's of emails from people who like it, and I am also pretty
sure that it won't hit the famous "top 100" list of ASSTR for number of
downloads, but I wouldn't know, cause I think I have checked that maybe twice,
ever.  But I like it anyway.  A word of advice...part 5 is probably the weakest
part - it was added later, and shows.

It is a story of consenting adults in a fledging BDSM relationship.  If you
like it, let me know.  If you find it realistic, I would love to know that.  If
you think it sucks, and is too 'light' for you... well, it takes all kinds. 
<smile>

PET   Pt. 2 (M/F, fdom) by Pami

**************************************

The next few days were long ones for her.  Work was stressful this week, but
she knew when she got home each day that there would be an email from him to
cheer her up.  He had written about how much he wanted to get to know her
better.  How she was a mysteriously fascinating woman to him, and he wanted to
get under her skin as much as she had gotten under his.  Little did he know
that he HAD.  His honesty and refreshing enthusiasm was spellbinding.  She was
falling under HIS spell, and it was supposed to be the other way around, she
thought wryly.

Friday evening.  6 o'clock.  Her doorbell rang, and she went to answer it.  He
was waiting on her doorstep, wearing khaki dockers and another oxford shirt. 
He looked so darn cute, especially with that one stray lock of hair falling
over his forehead.  He slightly bowed before her and offered a bouquet of
flowers. 

He was entranced.  She looked beautiful.  A pale pink sweater and a little
black pleated skirt.   Her hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, exposing
her throat.  Delicious smells wafted towards him.  "Mmmmm...smells wonderful. 
What are we having?" he asked he as he offered his flowers to her.

"Nothing special, just roast chicken, baked potato, salad," she answered,
waving him in.

He followed her into the living room.  A large smooshy-looking sofa dominated
the room.  The TV was on, but the sound was turned down, and a CD player played
classical music.  Mozart, he thought, although he wasn't an expert.  Warring
with the aromas from the kitchen were the floral scents of about seven or eight
large candles burning throughout the room.  It was a comfortable room, he
thought.  It fit her.

She put the flowers in the kitchen and rejoined him, carrying two champagne
glasses and a bottle with her.  He arched an eyebrow at her as she commanded,
"Sit."

Sit he did.  The couch WAS as comfy as it looked.  He glanced over by the tv
and noticed a picnic basket, and wondered idly what was in it.  She looked at
him and offered him a glass.

"Bubbly?" she asked smokily, with a gleam in her eye.  

He held out his glass and she filled it, and then hers.  She sat down next to
him, and raised her glass.  He followed suit, and asked to what were they
drinking.

"Possibilities.  Let's drink to you and I and possibilities."  

The way she said it, he felt himself stir.  He had dreamed of what would happen
here tonight.  The had thought of taking her to bed and ravishing her.  Of
caressing her curves with his hands and lips.  Of biting her soft flesh.  Of
filling her with him.  Of  taking each other over and over until he couldn't be
roused anymore.  Of lying in each other's arms, his head on her rounded
breasts, feeling each other's hearts slow down.  Of just reveling in the
touching of their bodies.

She smiled at him as they drank.  She wondered if he knew what she wanted from
him.  She wondered if he knew what HE wanted.  She thought not.  But she was
going to show him.  Of that she was certain.

They made small talk and sipped their drinks.  They moved into the dining room
and ate supper together, laughing and flirting with their eyes.  He raved over
her cooking.  She modestly denied doing anything special, and reminded him that
he was on dish duty when they were done.  As they finished up the meal, they
companionably cleared the table into the kitchen.  He groaned when he realized
that she didn't have an automatic dishwasher.  And she laughed as she told that
was what HE was there for!

She filled the sink with hot water and they piled the dishes in, as she told
him to leave them to soak.  He had no problem with that, and followed her back
into the living room.  She refilled their glasses.  

She wondered if he realized how much he had drank.  They were on their second
bottle of champagne, but she had only had three glasses, and he had consumed
the balance.  He was quite tipsy, she thought.
It was time.

She sat him down on the sofa.  And leaned over him.  He was sure she was going
to kiss him, and he couldn't wait.  Her sweater hugged her ample curves, and
when he looked up, he looked right into the valley between her breasts.  It was
dark and shadowed, and he leaned forward just a bit and inhaled.  He could
smell the enticing scent of vanilla, he thought.

Her sharp tone stopped him in mid-reverie.  "WHAT are you doing?" she asked in
a clipped voice.

He was confused.  The night was going so well.  The way she had bent over him,
he thought she WANTED him to look at her.  And he wanted to look at her.  Touch
her.  All over.  Especially those magnificent tits.

"I... I... I'm sorry?" he offered.

"Excuse me?" she asked in a dangerous tone.  "Sorry for WHAT?"

"I am sorry for... sorry for..." he struggled to phrase it in just the right
way, but it was hard with her standing so close, glaring at him.

"Hmmmm??"

"Sorry for looking at you that way." he finished miserably.  He knew that he
had just ruined his plans for the night.  There would be no holding her.  No
touching, no caressing, no lovemaking.  Nothing.  His face was bleak.

"That's not good enough," she told him.  "Tell me what you were looking at, HOW
you were looking at it, and why you shouldn't have been."
He groaned.  This was unbelievable.  She was the most maddeningly moody woman
he had ever met.  And yet...he was still thrilled by her.  He still wanted her.
 He still wanted to touch her.  Everywhere.

"Yes, Ma'am." he started.

"Miss," she interrupted him.

What?" he asked, confused.

"Yes, Miss," she spurred him on.

"Yes, Miss," he parroted, "I was looking at your...cleavage..."

"No, boy, you were looking at my TITS, weren't you?" 

"Yes, Miss," he started over.  "I was looking at your tits.  I was thinking
that I wanted to bury my head in them.  And I shouldn't have been looking
because you didn't tell me I could.  Right?" he asked hopefully, looking at
her.

She relented.  "Now, see...that wasn't so bad, was it, boy?  You just tell me
what you want and we'll see if we can help you out."

She was so excited.  He was on the edge.  She KNEW it.  She KNEW that he was
the right one.  He would love her the way she was meant to be loved.  She
wanted him badly.  She loved his voice, his mind, his body, and his soul. 
But...it would be HER way, or NO way.  

He shook his head.  The champagne was whirling through his system, clouding his
judgment.  Did she just invite him to talk dirty to her?  That was what he
THOUGHT he heard.  He cleared his throat, because it was suddenly dry.

She sat next to him.  She poured him another glass of champagne.  That was it
for him, she thought.  She didn't want him drunk...just uninhibited.  She held
it to his lips... "Drink...you are thirsty, aren't you?  Drink..."  

He drank down about half of the glass.  And looked at her.  God, she was
beautiful.  And if that was what she wanted, well, he would tell her exactly
what he wanted to do to her.

"I want to take off all of your clothes," he started.

"Ah, ah, ahhh.." she admonished.  

He looked at her confusedly.  What did she want NOW?

"What do you call me?" she asked sternly.

"Miss," he automatically answered.  He looked at her face, and her luscious
lips parted in a smile.  He smiled back, and barely even noticed as she gently
pushed him to his knees in front of her.  

"Miss," he started again, looking intently at her face above him, "Miss, I want
to take your clothes off and touch your whole body."  He paused.  "I want to
kiss your lips, and your neck, and your ti- I mean, your breasts," he continued
as he watched her smile broaden.

"OH... sweet..." she smiled at him.  He was coming along beautifully.  She knew
that he had a submissive streak in him.  He was drifting down the path that she
wanted him to go down with only the barest nudges from her.  

He smiled dreamily back at her.  She was glorious.  It was going to happen.  He
knew it.  She was going to let him make love to her.  It was so right...he
hadn't ever felt this wonderful with a woman before.  It just felt like the
world was in balance.  He would do anything for her.  And so he told her.

She looked into his crystal clear blue eyes.  She could see the genuineness in
them.  He truly meant it.  He had just never realized that deep down he wanted
to have someone control him.  She wondered if he realized that was exactly what
was happening.  Well, he would by morning, she thought.  And he would be HERS.

She asked him to stand before her, as she remained seated on the sofa.  He did,
softly swaying with the champagne running through his veins.  She took his hand
and held it to her cheek.  His fingers automatically went to caress her, and
she pulled away.

"No, pet.  You only touch what I want you to touch.  Do you understand?" she
told him sternly.

"Yes."

Her smile disappeared.

"Yes, Miss," he tried again, and was rewarded when her smile reappeared and she
pulled his hand over her cheeks. 

She took his index finger and ran it over her lips.  She flicked her tongue
out, tasting him.  Looking at his face while she did so.  He stared back at
her.  Captured by her touch.  The softness of her lips was incredible.  And she
opened her mouth and sucked the finger inside the wet warmth....sucking and
licking at him.

He couldn't help it.  He groaned.  Her mouth was amazingly hot and wet.  He
wondered what it would feel like if it were his cock inside that mouth.  And he
felt that cock grow and harden in his pants.

She glanced down at his crotch and saw the growing bulge.  She smiled around
his finger, but didn't stop what she was doing.  Just a little more, she
thought to herself.  Just a little more and he will be yours.

He wanted to rip his clothes off, throw her skirt up and pull her panties down.
 He wanted to grind himself inside of her.  Damn it, he wanted to fuck her!

She saw the feeling in his eyes.  She pulled his finger out of his mouth and
said, "Tell me, pet... tell me what you want...."

He opened his mouth and started.  "Miss," he said without prompting, "I want to
fuck you.  I want to bury my cock inside you and make you come."

"Ahhh, pet...that is music to my ears.  Why don't you take your clothes off and
show me what you have for me," she told him.

He started to strip hurriedly.  He drank her in with his eyes as she watched
him avidly.  Her hands drifted over her breasts, kneading and stroking them
through her sweater.  He could see her erect nipples even through the knit
material of the sweater.  His mouth watered.  He tore off the rest of his
clothes and reached down and grabbed his throbbing cock.  

"Please, Miss, let me suck your ti---breasts," he begged.

She half-smiled at him, at his eagerness.  "You mean, my TITS, don't you
sweet?"

"Yes.  Yes.  I want to lick and suck your tits.  Please," he moaned.

"Come down here, then," she told him.  And he sat down on the sofa next to her.

Her smile disappeared and that cold look of disapproval settled in her eyes. 
He knew he had erred, and immediately slid to his knees on the floor in front
of her.  His eyes were directly in line with her nipples and he couldn't help
it, he stared at them.

She chuckled, and slowly pulled her sweater over her head.  Exposing the lace
bra to his hungry eyes.  He could see her dark nipples through the fabric and
started to lean towards them, until he faintly heard her disapproving noise. 
He looked at her face, and knew what she wanted.  "Please.  Please, Miss...may
I touch your glorious tits?"

"Yes, pet...but no hands....just your mouth," she told him.  She was so
pleased.  He was SUCH a quick learner.  She knew she was going to experience
ecstasy with him tonight.  And she would make him come harder than he thought
possible, binding him to her forever.

He opened his mouth and centered in on a nipple.  He grabbed it through her bra
with his teeth and bit lightly.  He was pleased with her intake of breath.  He
rolled it back and forth between his teeth, grasping his hands together behind
his back to keep himself from using them to cup and knead that firm breast in
his mouth.  God, his cock was hard.  He couldn't believe how hot he was.  He
could smell the vanilla even more potently now.  It must be some sort of lotion
on her skin, he idly thought, as he sucked that nipple through the fabric.  He
wondered if the rest of her smelled the same.

She was wet, she knew.  She could feel the dampness of her pussy on her thighs.
 His teeth felt SO good on her nipple.  But the other was getting neglected. 
So she pulled away from him, ignoring his whimper, and pushed the other nipple
at his mouth.  He latched onto it right away and worried it between his teeth. 
She let out an involuntary moan.  "OOOhhhh, pet....that feels SOOOO good," she
groaned.

He vaguely heard her and couldn't help himself.  He pulled his hands from
behind his back and began massaging her tits through the bra.  Immediately she
pulled away.

"Oh, pet, I am so disappointed in you," she told him in a downcast voice.

He recognized his error, and tried to plead ignorance.  "Miss, I couldn't help
myself.  You are just so beautiful and I couldn't help myself. 
Please...please...let me make it up to you.  Please," he begged.

She looked down at his eyes, and saw the contrition there.  She gloated
inwardly.  Oh, he is SO delicious.  Deliciously submissive and doesn't even
realize it.

"Well, pet," she told him as she got up off the couch, "since you begged so
nicely, I am going to forgive you this time.  BUT...." she added as she saw the
smile on his face, "I am not going to take any more chances."  With that she
reached into the picnic basket and pulled out a set of black cuffs.

He looked at the cuffs, and he felt his cock pulse.  He had never been tied up.
 He had never really thought about it.  But...as she walked over to him and
told him to put his hands out to her, he couldn't deny the thrill of excitement
that ran down his spine through his twitching prick as he felt the leather
around his wrists.  She walked behind him and said, "Hands to the back,
please."  And he automatically brought his hands behind his back and heard the
click of a lock as they were fastened together.

She looked down at him.  He knelt on the carpet, sitting on his heels, hands
behind his back, cock hard and pointing almost straight out.  She could see a
small glisten at the end.  And she smiled at him.  He smiled back
automatically.  She resumed her seat on the sofa and said, "Well, pet, since
you handled that so well, I think you should get some reward, don't you?"

He nodded eagerly.  Her hands came up to her nipples and pulled on them.  She
reached behind her and unfastened the lacy bra and pulled it off.   He moaned. 
There they were.  Those glorious tits.  The flesh was a creamy white and he
could see the veins running under the skin toward the hard nipples.  Those
nipples.  He HAD to get them into his mouth.  "Please?  Please, Miss?"
Instead of answering him, she reached out and ran her hand through his hair. 
She pulled firmly on the curls at the back of his neck and heard him groan. 
And then she pulled him forward.

He automatically opened his mouth and sucked.  Her nipple was about as big as
his thumbnails, he thought as his whole world devolved into these two breasts. 
These tits.  He could kiss and lick and suck them forever, he thought.  He
pulled hard at her nipple, and heard her groan.  He wished he could do this for
hours.  

She let him suck and kiss and nibble at her tits for a long time.  She made
sure she switched him from side to side so that each tit got its fair share of
attention.  He was wonderfully good at it, she thought, as she realized that
she was going to leave a huge wet spot on her sofa cushion.  Well, he would
just have to do something about THAT, she thought, with a smile on her face.

She finally pulled him away by the hair.  His face was red, and his lips were
swollen.  His cock was still hard, she noticed.  "Well, sweet...that is
certainly good for your first try," she told him with a smile on her face.

He just looked at the smile on her face and heard her approving tone.  He
wasn't paying attention to her words.  He just wanted to touch her more.  He
wanted to lick her.  He wanted to taste her.  The aroma of the vanilla had been
overcome by the scent of her pussy.  He could smell how aroused she was.  It
kept his cock hard.  He wanted to stay here like this always.  Always making
her feel good.  Always hearing her approval.  He pulled at his hands,
indicating that he wanted to touch her.  She saw, and asked him if he was
uncomfortable.  "No, Miss, but I want to touch you.  Please.  Let me touch
you."

She stopped smiling and rose from the couch again.  "I thought you understood
pet... what matters here is what I want.  Not what YOU want.  Now...are you
uncomfortable?"

He rose to his knees again.  "No.  No, Miss.  I am not.  Please...let me kiss
you again."

She reached into the basket again.  He caught the glint of silver as she pulled
something out in her hand.  "Pet... you know that you have made me feel good by
worshiping my tits.  You have a gift.  Every time you nibbled or sucked on my
nipples, I felt it here," she said, cupping her pussy through the skirt.  "Now
it is time for YOU to feel it."

With that she reached down and pulled on his left nipple.  It felt good, and he
groaned.  The nipple grew hard immediately, and she gave it a sharp pinch.  And
giggled as she saw his hard prick twitch with that pinch.  She felt the other
nipple and did the same.  Another giggle.  "Sweet, you seem to enjoy that
pinch.  Do you?" 

"Yes, Miss.  I love it when you touch me.  Please...."

"No, that isn't what I asked," she answered.  "Do
---you----like---the---pinch?" she asked again, punctuating each word with a
pull on one of his tits.

"Yes.  Yes.  Yes, Miss.  I do," he told her, looking down at his hard cock and
then back up at her face.

"Good.  Honesty is important, pet."  And with that she swiftly attached metal
clips to each of his nipples.  The sharp pain made him draw a few deep breaths,
but he noticed that the throb of each nipple seemed to resonate in his erect
penis.

"Oh. Miss!" he looked at HER nipples...just inches from his face, and still
gloriously hard and seemingly calling to him.

She walked the few steps to the couch again, and he turned with her, not
wanting to lose sight of her for even an instant.  He wasn't quite sure why,
but he felt like he was adrift on an ocean and she was his anchor.  She frowned
down at the sofa.  And he followed her gaze.  There upon the cushion was a dark
spot.  She reached her finger down and touched it.  "Hmmm.... wet....  I wonder
what it could be.  Any ideas, sweet?" as she took that same finger and touched
him lightly under the nose.

He inhaled deeply and knew without a doubt that it was the nectar from her
pussy.  He didn't reply, just breathed again.

She pulled on the chain connected his nipple clamps.  The sharp pain made him
look at her.  "I asked you a question, pet..."

"I....It... I think it is....you, Miss," he stumbled, not knowing what she
wanted him to say.  

"Hmmmm....perhaps it is," she mused.  She took her finger and put it under her
skirt.  When she pulled it out, it was shining with her juices.  "Why don't you
compare it, sweet?" she asked, as she ran the wet finger across his upper lip,
dampening it.

He inhaled again.  God...she smelled so sweet and tangy.  He wanted a taste,
and he flicked his tongue out to try to lick the wetness off of his face.

She smiled again, and watched as his cock twitched yet again.  She idly
wondered how much he could take before he came without her even touching him.

"Miss....please..." he begged.  "Please...I want to taste your pussy. 
Please.... let me eat you."

"What, pet?  You want to lick my cunt?" she teased him.  "Would you do a good
job?  Would you make me come?  Would you lick all of my wetness up?  Drink me
down?"

He moaned at the picture she painted.  "Yes!  Yes, please...let me lick inside
you.  Let me suck your clit.  Let me make you come..."
She pulled on the nipple clamps again, enjoying the moans he made.  She sat
herself on the sofa again, and slowly pulled her skirt up.  He could see....she
had NO panties on.  Just the thigh high stockings.  The lace tops were
startlingly dark against the whiteness of her thighs.  And her pussy.  It was
BARE!  She was shaved.  He could see the red of her slit.  He could smell her
juices.  He swore he could even feel the heat from between her legs.

She reached out again and pulled on his hair.  "Come to me, pet....  Lick me...
 Eat me... Suck the cream from my cunt....  Make your mistress feel good."  As
the words slipped out of her mouth she had a momentary quiver of uncertainty. 
She hadn't used the word mistress yet.  She didn't want to lose him.

"Yes," he moaned... "Mistress...."

And with that final word he buried his face into her hot, wet cunt.  He felt
like he had finally found happiness.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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