butterfly
My weekend had been a blur. Some parts of it I remembered vividly, some parts were fuzzy, and other parts I couldn't remember at all. And to top it off, some of what I swore I remembered seemed impossible.
Lauren and Shane could fly—they were warrior angels. Well, at least that was what they had been in my dreams. They were fighting off these two bad angels, and there was a girl angel...or was it two? Wait, maybe they hadn't been flying. But they were fighting and up on the ceiling...unless I was on the ceiling and they were on the ground, but that didn't make sense. Oh hell, none of it made sense. I'd have to chalk it up to a crazy dream. It had to have been a dream. There was no way that Lauren and Shane were in my Mistress' playroom.
I didn't even remember ending our scene in the playroom Saturday or how I got to bed. The last thing I did remember was feeling like I was going to come. Had I? Why couldn't I remember?
On Sunday morning, the only clue that told me the entire thing hadn't been a dream was a bouquet of lilacs sitting on my dresser with a card that said, Playroom 10:00 am.
There was nothing set out in the playroom except a blindfold, and I wondered if she was going to have me go out again.
She didn't. In fact, it was a wonderfully relaxing afternoon.
First, she bathed me in warm bath water until I was positive there was not a speck of dirt on me. Then she carried me back into the playroom and placed me on what I recognized was a small bench on the floor. When I knelt on it, I knew I was at the perfect height to give her an amazing blowjob.
That was exactly what she wanted. It was similar to the times before in that she tasted delicious, and once again, I felt invigorated. My Mistress lifted me and placed me on something soft. I recognized the feel as the leather table, but it now had a sheet on it.
My Mistress then proceeded to give me a head to toe massage, and I tried to fight the sleep, but it was of no use. I felt myself drift off and awoke hours later on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. There was music playing softly and candles lit around the room.
I sat up and picked up my journal before heading home. I wished this were my home. I wanted to be here always—maybe not in the playroom, but definitely with my Mistress in this apartment. I realized that it likely wasn't even possible. I wasn't sure if I was the only woman who used this playroom, let alone the apartment. Refusing to allow myself to think of my Mistress with another, and not wanting it to kill the amazing buzz I had, I chose instead to bask in the feeling of peace she had given me.
Things were amazing when we were together, yet there was something that kept me from feeling truly happy. The entire time I was in the playroom with my Mistress was wonderful. She claimed me as hers over and over, and I served her in every way she asked. But when we weren't in the playroom, I was constantly thinking about her. That wouldn't have been a bad thing, except I often wondered where she was and what she was doing.
Mostly, I wondered if she was with anyone else the same way she was with me. I knew it was selfish, but I wanted her all to myself.
The other thing I wanted was to see her. Initially, I'd found the blindfold to be erotic, but lately it made me wonder what she was hiding. Was she someone I would recognize—like a politician or a movie star—and was afraid the secret would get out? Or was she a married woman who didn't want to take chances?
Maybe it wasn't her face that she didn't want me to see. Maybe it was her body. I imagined it grotesque, covered in scars. Perhaps she was handicapped or deformed in some way. Each time I pictured it more hideous than the last, and yet, every time, I decided that it didn't matter. The fact was: I was in love with her—no matter her physical appearance. I just wanted the mystery to be over.
But I knew I would never have the courage to bring it up. First of all, she didn't give me the opportunity to talk to her freely, and as butterfly, I'd never speak out of turn like that. Second, as much as I wanted to see her—to know the truth—a bit of me was scared that asking her would ruin everything. I was worried that somehow it would be a deal breaker. Or if I did find out she was married, what would I do? Would I be strong enough to end our relationship, knowing it was wrong?
Today at work, I was still thinking about my questions when the flowers came. They had come yesterday, as well. A huge bouquet of lilacs. The scent instantly reminded me of the playroom, as it had done the two days before.
It still bothered me that I couldn't remember how Saturday night had ended, and that I'd had that bizarre nightmare about the people I work with being able to fly. I picked up the card and noticed that it had a long purple ribbon attached to it, much like the white one I'd used as a blindfold the day I'd gone to get the flowers. The card simply read: I can't wait until tonight. Meet me on the seventh floor—now.
I looked around quickly. Was she here?
I didn't see anyone out of the ordinary. In fact, the office was mostly empty since many people had gone out for lunch. Lauren and Shane were talking near Sarah's desk, and Teri from the mailroom was walking through. That was about it.
Giving the flowers one final sniff, I grabbed the purple blindfold and headed for the elevators. My heart beat anxiously, as it always did when I was about to serve my Mistress.
As I walked into room 727 my phone rang. "Hello?" "Hello, butterfly," my Mistress whispered. "Open the blinds."
I looked across the nearly empty office toward the large picture window.
My heart raced as I pulled the string, revealing the city outside.
"Now, remove your panties. Keep the rest of your clothes on and get on the desk."
Slipping off my damp panties, I climbed onto the desk.
"Unbutton your blouse and pull up your skirt. That's it, little one, show the city your pretty pussy."
I did as she said and looked out the window nervously. Was she watching from out there? Was someone else watching?
"I want you to play with yourself. Get that pussy wet. Pull those beautiful breasts from your bra and rub your nipples."
I began to rub my clit and felt the wetness coat my fingers. I tugged on my nipples the way I liked and was surprised to find myself on the edge of orgasm in only a few minutes.
"Now put on your blindfold and lay back. Keep that pussy wet while you wait for me, my butterfly."
I continued to rub my clit and tug on my nipples while lying on the desk. I didn't stop when I heard the office door open, though for a moment I was afraid it was someone other than my Mistress.
"Spread your legs for me," she commanded, and my legs fell wide open as if they had a mind of their own.
"I wish that you could see how beautiful your pussy looks, little girl. It's flowered open for me. Your puffy pink lips are glistening around your bright cherry center—and this," she said, pinching my throbbing clit, "looks good enough to eat."
I couldn't help the whimper that escaped my lips.
"Shhhh, little one. I am going to finger fuck that wet pussy and you will be quiet. You will not say anything except 'thank you, Mistress' when I allow you to come, which I will only do if you stay silent. Do you understand, pet?"
When I nodded my head, she thrust her fingers into me hard. I inhaled sharply but didn't make a sound. She thrust them in and out quickly, adding what felt like a third finger. I started panting when she stepped closer and placed her other hand on my stomach, pressing down slightly.
I couldn't help but to whimper when she curled her fingers upward, pressing my sensitive spot with each stroke while applying pressure from above. I was given specific instructions not to come, yet despite my breathing and wiggling, I was quickly losing the battle. The little self-control that I had was no match for her expert hands.
"You need to come, don't you?" she whispered in my ear, continuing her relentless pace.
I nodded furiously, my breathing now ragged, alternating between holding my breath and gasping for air. My legs began to tremble and I felt fluid flow from my body. I concentrated on not coming before she granted me permission—if she granted me permission. I couldn't even think about what would happen if she didn't.
"Do you know I fucking own this pussy?" she growled. "It's mine."
I nodded again, my lips pressed together in a tight line. She did own my pussy, and I'd allow her to do anything with it she pleased. Right then, I wished what she'd do with it was let it come. I tensed, my entire body trying to hold off through the next wave of pleasure.
"Good girl. Now come for me."
"Oh, thank you, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress," I choked in relief as my orgasm rocketed through my body.
I could tell I was squirting again from the sensation, though my Mistress' mouth had covered my pussy. Her tongue flicked at my clit and wet center as I filled her mouth again and again. I could hear her swallowing, and it turned me on to no end.
Even after I was finished coming, she continued licking me as I lay there panting in a pool of my own fluid, trying to catch my breath. Moments later, I heard the zipper of her pants and I held my breath in anticipation.
Everything was quiet for a while. I thought I could hear the sound of her stroking herself, but I wasn't sure. It wasn't loud like it had been the other night after I'd given her a blowjob. Suddenly, her hands touched my pussy again and spread my lips. Her finger gently circled my clit, and then I felt something else rub along my entrance. It felt thick like a vibrator, but she didn't put it in me. I jumped in surprise when cool liquid landed between my open pussy lips and ran down my slit toward my ass.
I couldn't help the groan that left my lips when I realized it had been her cock touching my pussy. She had again marked my pussy as hers, and I loved it.
I inhaled and exhaled deeply, just basking in the feeling. Something soft touched my lips, and for a moment I thought it was her cock, but when it moved,
I realized it was her lips. She kissed me long and hard, her hands trailing over my breasts, rubbing my nipples gently. Her kisses ironically didn't arouse me further, but calmed me down. With one final kiss, she pulled back.
"You may go to the ladies room and freshen up. You'll need to fix your hair and makeup, as you look like you've been thoroughly ravaged."
I heard the door click and I sat up, taking the blindfold off. I could see my reflection in the glass and I did look like I'd been ravaged—which I had been, and I'd loved every minute of it.
I fixed my blouse and pulled down my skirt, then slid my panties back on—though they were wet from earlier. When I was decent again, I headed back down to the ladies room on my floor, hoping not to run into anyone along the way.
Luck was only half on my side. I did run into a woman, but thankfully I didn't know her. She looked a bit familiar, though. She was one of those supermodel type women who never had a hair out of place. When I walked in, she was just washing her hands at the sink. She inhaled quickly and smiled, which I found very unnerving.
"Um, hi," I said, trying to make small talk and wondering how I was going to wash up with her in there.
"Hello," she replied, drying her hands. "I hope you don't mind my saying, but you smell absolutely lovely."
Was she kidding? The smell of sex surrounding me had to be overpowering. I couldn't think of any type of a response to her statement.
She walked out of the ladies room, and I sighed in relief. I was due back from lunch in five minutes, so I would have to make quick work of it. The last thing I wanted was for Candy, Shane or Lauren to know what I'd done over my lunch break!