My eyes focused through the haze of desire to see Emma clad head to toe in black PVC and brandishing a whip behind him. It was that which had made contact with James, forcing him back, and now he was on his knees before her.
“I’m sorry, mistress, I lost control,” he said, an unexpected hint of fear in his voice.
She walked around him, her heeled black boots clipping the floor, the whip trailing a path around him as she contemplated his bowing form. “Sorry isn’t good enough, you shall be punished.”
“Yes, mistress.”
I watched in awe as this man, whom I had never seen behave anything less than superior and in charge, was now humble and contrite.
“Firstly, you can strip off. It’s only fair that I have you both in a similar state of dress.”
“Yes, mistress, may I stand?”
“You may.”
Emma stopped pacing and stood legs apart observing us. Even though I knew she would be wearing the one piece, it didn’t lessen the impact of seeing her in it for the first time. She looked fucking hot! Her hair pulled back in a severe ponytail just as ithad been outside Dr Tate’s office. Her lips, blood red, were set in a hard line, her eyes glittering severely as she watched us, the whip moving provocatively through her hands. My eyes dropped to the long, black cord and I couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel. Would she use it on me?
“Ready, mistress,” came James’ submissive voice as he came to stand naked between us, his cock standing proud before him.
“I want to see you on your knees before that pussy James.”
“Yes, mistress.”
He walked toward me and dropped to his knees, his mouth so close that I could feel his breath tickling at the damp hairs of my pussy.
“Good boy. I want you to make her cum with your mouth, James. You have ten minutes. If she doesn’t you will be punished.”
James took up the task with relish, he used his hands to separate my folds as his mouth covered my clit and then he sucked, the sensation both shocking and arousing beyond measure. He repeated the move, cleaning the area of my juices and then his tongue was on the job, working me like the expert he clearly was.
I didn’t think I was going to last five minutes, let alone ten. My eyes flicked to Emma’s and I could see she was turned on, enjoying the sight of me losing control. It then became a battle of wits. I wasn’t going to come; I wanted to see him punished! Each time my body mounted to the peak, I forced my mind to think on something else.
Finally, Emma announced, “Ten minutes are up, James.”
He groaned, his mouth still buried in my pussy, refusing to let up.
“James!” she warned.
Obediently, he stood and stepped back from me, his heated gaze fixed longingly on my lower body.
From behind him, Emma stroked the whip down his back and I watched avidly as she dipped it between his legs to toy with his balls. And then she flicked it back and he braced himself, just as the whip made contact with his backside.
He cried out gruffly and his cock jumped, moisture forming at the tip in his excitement. Emma repeated the move, and each time his erection stood proud, the pre-cum dribbling down his shaft. I licked my lips at the sight and clenched my pussy together in a desperate attempt to satisfy the powerful ache they had stoked up within me.
“Now turn around, James, I want you on your knees doing the same to me. Let’s see where you were going wrong.”
“Yes, mistress,” he said obediently, moving to kneel before her.
Emma positioned one leg on a stool and taking hold of a concealed zip at her crotch, she parted the fabric, spreading herself before him and his eagerly awaiting mouth.
I could see the fire burning in her eyes as she issued him with command after command, controlling every move of his mouth, his tongue, his fingers. All the while, she stroked the whip up and down his form, the gesture both provocative and threatening, a continual reminder that one wrong move and there would be a consequence.
James lapped it up, he was like a cat that had been given the cream and I was jealous. I suddenly wanted that whip on me, her commands to be directed at me. My body throbbed with prolonged need, every bit of it aching from having to fend off my orgasm and witnessing their erotic display before me.
Emma must have sensed the desperation emanating from me as she lifted her heated gaze to mine, the hard tip of the whip handle following her shift in focus and coming to rest at my ankle. I bit my lip, my eyes pleading with her to continue the attention.
Slowly she raised the black leather, teasing a path up my leg, the whip almost but not quite making contact with my crotch before it dropped down the other side. She repeated the move, the touch so soft I had to strain to feel it. I started to writhe and moan, pulling against the restraints as I begged her to bring it against me.
“Poor Abi wants to come, James,” she said, taunting me as she moved her hand to his head, pinning him against her crotch as she rode his face, reinforcing to us both that she was in charge, she would determine who got satisfaction and when.
