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This story was written for my Dear Mistress who actually was taking a flight for a trip She did not want to take. Mistress asked me to write Her a story for the trip. This is the public version.
Some of what you are about to read is true. What portions are remains discreetly confidential….. as are the names of the players involved. But rest assured, each person described does indeed have their real-life counterpart.
If this is to be a two or three part series will be up to the readers and of course Mistress
I hope you enjoy…
The alarm held true to tradition and rudely blared its wake-up notification. Anytime I need to use an alarm means something critical is on the agenda. This morning it meant catching a flight to Puerto Rico. The sound of the Rolling Stone’s “I can’t get no….Satisfaction” was apropos as I dislike flying and dislike going to Puerto Rico even more.
The thought of sitting on a plane for over four and a half hours next to perfect strangers with whom I had little in common was pure punishment. Every flight was the same, filled with the same questions, “What do you do for a living”; “Are you married”; “Why not”; “Why are you going to Puerto Rico”; “Don’t you just love going home”; “What’s your last name—Oh I know someone name Ayala.”
It’s not that the people are bad, it’s just they aren’t really prepared for the truth.
I sometimes wonder what they would do if I was honest with them.
“I am a lifestyle Mistress specializing in erotic fantasies. No, I am not married because I have a stable of slaves and submissives that cater to my needs. As my erotic interests include both men and women, there is no one person who meets all of my needs at this point in time. However, there are a couple of ladies and gentlemen who capture my interest and for whom I have a deep fondness.”
“Now as for why I am going to Puerto Rico—it is to fulfill family obligations. Although my heritage is 100% Puerto Rican, I am 100% American in my lifestyle and don’t particularly enjoy going to Puerto Rico. I will admit there are some customs and traditions which I find pleasurable, but answering the trite questions of strangers on the flight to and from is not one of them.”
I then envision myself taking a sip of my cocktail while enjoying the look of shock and horror on their face. Then I’d go for the kill. “What exactly are you going to do with this information anyway?”
While their brains are still in overload, I’d lean real close to them and begin to drag one of my perfectly manicured fingernails up and down their arm—hopefully it would be a woman so she would think I’m going lesbo on her. In my most sultry and provocative voice I’d continue.
“Let me ask You a few questions.” Gazing into their eyes I’d say, “Have you ever been fucked in the ass? Was it with a strap-on or a real cock? Have you ever fantasized about being bound and gagged? Have you ever had your body ravaged by hands, lips, tongues, fingernails, pussies, cocks, balls, assholes, whips, piss, shit or anything else someone thought about? Have you made the connection between the extremes of pleasure and pain?”
After those jaw dropping questions I’d back smugly and mutter, “I thought so.”
The downside would be what to do for the remaining four hours and twenty-nine minutes of the flight?
Thus, my dislike for flights—trite conversations. Unfortunately, they are the same conversations I face with family in Puerto Rico. I can’t tell you how many times people have tried to match me up with a ‘nice Puerto Rican boy.’ They aren’t ready for the truth either.
Oh well, it’s time to play the role in which I was raised: Gina Rosa Maria Ayala. Miss Rosa will stay home for the week. On that thought, I got out of bed and did a quick run through of any last minute items I may need. My bags were already packed since the corsets, vibrators, rubber goods, etc. would be staying home along with Miss Rosa’s persona.
I would miss them dearly as they bring me sooooo much pleasure. Walking to my vanity, I saw the toys I used the night before. The memories of the evening made wet again. My sisters at the dungeon had a little bon-voyage party for me. The head Mistress buzzed me and told me to come to the main salon. I was abducted before I got there.
Those Divine ladies secured me and proceeded to give me a night of delicious sexual torment. They brought me close to orgasm a number of times, but never allowed me to cum. Each time I begged the sisters to let me have an orgasm, they chuckled seductively and told me “You’ll just have to wait.”
On the other hand, I lost track of the number of orgasms my mouth, lips, and tongue provided. The ladies all know my fondness for their loins. The smooth wetness of a woman’s vagina arouses me in a way no thick cock can; and I simply adore cock too. The evening was not fair at all, but in the most pleasant of ways.
When I did get back to my güvenilir bahis apartment, my need to cum hadn’t subsided one bit. There was no way I would last a week in this condition. I can’t make it twenty-four hours under normal circumstances. I needed to cum right then and there.
I tossed my clothes onto the corner chair in the bedroom and went directly to my dresser toy drawer. I grabbed the two items which never fail me in time of need. One was my thick black-cock phallus with the suction cup base and the other my bullet vibrator.
This being the morning after, I surveyed the room. Everything was where I left it after my shattering orgasm. My clothes were in a heap on the chair. The black rubber cock was still on the wooden bench but on its side. I couldn’t tell if the suction had given way or I simply fucked it off its mount. The bullet vibrator was on the floor where it dropped when the spasms ripped through me.
Picking up the rubber cock, I thought how I rode just a few hours earlier while watching myself in the mirror. I love looking in a mirror during sex. Here I was again, naked in front of the mirror with the same dildo. I couldn’t control myself I needed to cum again, right now.
I brought the black cock to my mouth and began to lick it. My eyes locked onto the image before me. I tasted the salty traces of my juice from the night before. I imagined I was cleaning a cock that had been pulled from one of my sisters’ cunts. I could feel myself getting very wet and beginning to detach.
Detachment was something I was taught years ago by a senior Mistress. The idea is to separate ones’ mind from their body and from the image of their body. It allows the encounter to become more intricate and complete.
The olive skinned Latino woman in the mirror had a hungry look about her. She had no inhibitions about using her mouth to clean the black cock coated with someone else’s essence.
After sucking and licking it with abandonment, she slammed the cock onto the wooden bench. Her hands then went to her breasts and began to molest them.
Her nails latched onto her dark-plump nipples, digging into the flesh as she pulled them from her breasts. A hissing sound came from my throat as I saw the woman clench her teeth. Her nails attacked them. I could see the pain in her eyes; a pain which caused cream to start to flow from my cunt.
With a final pull, she released her buds and then began to slap at her tits, not caring where her blows landed: on top, the side, underneath. Her eyes were glassy and wild. Her mouth opened from her building lust. Her words startled me for her voice sounded like mine and what she said was exactly what I was imagining.
“Look at my cunt, bitch.” Her hands left her reddened tits and pulled open her loins. Her hips were jutting toward me. I could see thick cream covering her lips and dripping down the side of her thighs. Her clit was swollen and standing out from her wet box.
“Look at it!” she screamed at me this time.
“I bet you want to suck it don’t you? Well you can’t. You’re just going to watch me as I fuck this big…..black….cock. “
With those words she impaled herself on the waiting rod. A gasp of pleasure overtook me as the cock buried itself completely into her box. The woman was thrashing her head around like a crazy person. One hand was pushing on her mound while the other was frigging her clit.
I could feel her pleasure and it was driving me wild.
The woman spotted the vibrating egg on the floor and grabbed it. She pushed the whole thing into her mouth. I could even taste the dried juices on it. I may not have been able to lick and suck on her cunt, but the taste of pussy had not escaped me.
Yanking it from her mouth, she switched it on. Her hips were grinding back and forth on the phallus while she worked the egg. Placing the egg directly onto her clit drove both of us to another level. I wanted to cum so badly but all I could do was watch her pleasure.
She began to fuck and bounce on the mounted cock. It was lewd to watch her pulling herself off, and then slam herself down on it. I could feel it on my own cervix. She was merciless.
My cream was flowing freely and I felt a tingling need in my ass. It was as if the Latino woman could read my mind. She pulled herself off of the cock and placed the head of it against her asshole. Mine opened in anticipation and when I saw the cock disappear inside her, a feeling of fullness overtook me too.
Both of our eyes fluttered and even closed for a few seconds. As soon as they opened, we found each other again. A distant knowing smile overtook both of us—one causing the other.
I could tell she loved anal sex as much as I did.
She took the vibrating egg and pushed it into her soaked vagina. Placing her hands on her knees she started lifting her buttocks up and down on the thick shaft. The woman started speaking but without words. I could easily read her türkçe bahis lips, “I need this….. I love this…., I want it…..”
Her rhythm was building and her ass slammed down on the black rod on each thrust. With a firm plunge she drove herself completely onto the cock and began to work her pussy and clit again. I was starting to lose it as I watched her.
My building orgasm brought everything back together with a jarring reality that I was the woman in the mirror.
My pussy exploded with cum and piss. I started shaking as my orgasm overtook every sense in my body. I ground harder onto the cock. I frigged my clit faster. I started crying and then I collapsed.
It took me a few minutes to recover. The bullet had shot of my cunt and was buzzing away on the floor. I was blown away. Christ was that incredible.
Lifting myself slowly off of the cock, I saw bits and smears of my brown caviar on it. I thought of one particular slave who would crave cleaning this. But alas, I was alone and the task was mine.
Looking at the clock, I freaked!
I had about forty-five minutes to clean-up, shower, do my hair, make-up, dress and get out the door. My horniness hadn’t diminished as I prepared. In the shower, I drove my whole hand into a very wet and wanton pussy. I even slipped a few fingers into my ass. Each time I had to remind myself of the time. Although I am Mistress who is in charge at the dungeon, my control has no impact on the airlines. I had to get ready.
The sound of the door buzzer occurred just as I finished. I ran to answer the door.
“Hello,” I said into the intercom.
“Miss Ayala, this is Luke—the driver. I’m here to take you to the airport” was the response from the other end.
“Be right down.”
Taking one final look at myself in the mirror, I thought my make-up to be a bit too heavy. With a slight chuckle, I knew it was in direct response to my horniness. My pussy was still wet as I made my way down the stairs with my luggage. How was I going to make it the whole week?
I was a bit surprised to see a limo waiting for me rather than a cab. The arrangements for the trip were made by one of my slaves to whom I gave specific instructions with respect to cost. If he exceeded my budget……
Luke opened the door to the limo and guided me in. The interior was very nice with plenty of room. My eyes were immediately drawn to a champagne bucket next to seat. The neck of an un-corked bottle emerged from the ice and a solitary flute was being chilled along with it.
The door closed as I settled in. I heard the trunk pop and the sound of my luggage being loaded. A few moments later, Luke got in the front and started the car. He started talking as we pulled away from curb.
“Help yourself to the Champagne. Compliments of Mr. Ransdale.”
The sound of the phrase ‘Mr. Ransdale’ made me smile. To me, Mr. Ransdale was my slave ronald. Still, I must admit I was impressed as I pulled a bottle of Veuve Clicquot from the bucket…my favorite. I filled the flute, but didn’t replace the bottle. I drank the first one quickly and refilled. Hey, I was on vacation.
The drive to the airport was soothing. The sound of the road and the buzz from the champagne had my head bobbing. I knew I was dozing but figured Luke would wake me if I fell asleep.
The sounds of voices stirred me. It took a few seconds after my eyes opened to realize I had done more than just fall asleep.
I found myself in the center of a very opulent airline cabin of, what had to be, a private jet. I was naked, gaged, bound, and laying on a plush, white, fur carpet surrounded by a group of well-dressed, beautiful people. Something told me this was not AA flight 2057 bound for San Juan.
The more I looked around, the more I was getting turned on. For some reason I wasn’t afraid because Luke spoke of Mr. Randsdale—slave ronald. I did wonder how all of this was going to play out, but for now, being the bound centerpiece was arousing.
I counted five couples, all perfect strangers. The men were dressed in black tuxedos, starched white-shirts, and a black bow tie. The women wore Hepburn-ish dresses of various colors. All had their hair pulled up elegantly. Each woman wore pair of matching three-quarter length gloves.
Their make-up was perfect—perfectly overdone—each woman reeked with sex. I wondered about their kinks and needs and what role I was going to play in all of this. There was a sexual charge to the cabin.
Everyone was sipping champagne and talking in low murmurs as couples. It was if the other couples weren’t even there. The one thing they all had in common however was all eyes were on me. I noticed each man was having his cock fondled by a gloved hand stroking the outside of his trousers. The swelling bulge in their pants told me the women were good at their task.
There was one woman in particular whose look produced an urge in güvenilir bahis siteleri my loins. She had beautiful blonde hair with soft white skin and the bluest eyes. Her dress matched her eyes. She reminded me of a Goddess from an ancient deity.
When our eyes met, her head tilted as if she sensed my urge. Without breaking eye contact, she leaned back and whispered something into her man’s ear. A thin sensuous smile broke across his lips as he nodded in agreement with her whispered words.
The woman looked back at me and gave her lips an overtly sexual lick. Her hand grasped the thick rod outlined in her man’s pants and she began stroking it while watching me. She was so hot. I could feel juice leaking from me and running across my ass cheek onto the fur.
The trance was broken by a door opening behind me. Each couple looked up and smiled. I could hear footsteps but couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman because of the carpeted floor. The question was answered by the pair of formal black men’s shoes appearing next to my head. I could see tuxedo pants rising from the top of them but my bindings prevented me from seeing the whole person.
It didn’t take long to realize who it was.
“Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce our guest of honor. Before you is Gina Rosa Maria Ayala, known to many as Miss Rosa. By now I am sure she knows who I am.”
Indeed I did, it was my dear slave ronald; however, at the moment I wasn’t sure how dear he was nor how much of my slave he was.
“Miss Rosa has been my Mistress, or should I say, my owner for a number of years now. In fact, my commitment to her was on her golden birthday when she asked me many questions about my unending devotion to her. At that time it seemed I pleased her enough for her to accept me as her own.”
There was a slight pause and he squatted such that I could see his face. I had to admit he looked dashing in his tux. After taking a sip of champagne, Ronald reached out and caressed my hair as he began speaking again.
“It wasn’t my intent to become Miss Rosa’s property. In fact, I would even say she stole me from another Mistress with whom I was sessioning. I was being led to an upper floor and passed by her. Our eyes met and I felt the arrow pierce my heart. Her beauty, her look, her eyes, and her sensual smile captured me instantly. The memory of which is making me quite hard.”
I glanced at his crotch and indeed his cock was straining against the material. I caught myself. It wasn’t his cock, it was my cock which I allowed him to use. But that was yesterday. His voice broke my thoughts again.
“Miss Rosa is a switch and we all know what that means.”
I could hear the couples’ mumbling agreement.
“Miss Rosa also knows I am a true submissive, but what she doesn’t know is how I can use my submissiveness to be dominant. Do you Miss Rosa?”
Our eyes met. I could feel his devotion but there was a glint which I had not seen before. Ronald was right, I was always in control.
“When I am with Miss Rosa it is always HER fingers penetrating my ass. It is HER flogger slapping my cock. It is HER teeth biting my nipples. It is HER lips sucking them.”
Scenes form out numerous sessions raced through my mind.
“Miss Rosa has played me well. She has fed me her nectar. I have licked her cream from her fingertips. I have suckled at her breast. I have felt the softness of her lips upon mine. She is indeed my Mistress.”
The thought of watching slave ronald drink my nectar brought back so many memories.
“She has even fucked me with her strap-on. I’ve been fucked like a bitch, begging Mistress to give me more of her cock. I’ve been fucked gently while Mistress was making love to my pussy ass, whispering erotic desires into my ear.”
“Miss Rosa loves to share me. I remember the night I naked sat at her feet, while a sissy slave belonging to another Mistress dance for us. Later, she fucked me alongside the sissy slave who was being fucked by her Mistress. Do you remember that night Miss Rosa?”
How well I remember that encounter.
“During another session, I even stroked the sissy slaves cock and fingered her asshole. Miss Rosa knows all too well that stroking and fingering weren’t the only things I’d do to please her. In fact, I think she’d love to see me with the sissy slave kissing, touching, sucking and fucking each other in front of her and the other Mistresses while they sat comfortably in their house salon.”
slave ronald’s words were true. The thought did cross my mind. I could also tell he was planting a seed in my mind for the future. He paused, taking another sip of champagne.
“Miss Rosa is a wonderful Mistress who feels my genuine and sincere devotion to her. She is also a generous Mistress, who allows others to have their way with me. My ass is always available for another Mistress’ cock. My mouth is always available to drink another Mistress’ nectar and or take whatever else they wish to share.”
I remembered asking slave Ronald if he would even take my brown essence. It’s an idea stored in the back of my mind, but one that I have yet to enact with him. I made a point of noting his comment.
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