I begin to stare at my submissive as she's curled up on small, black pet bed at the foot of my large king-size and a sudden urge to be next to her arises. "Kitten?" I say softly, just enough for her to hear me. "Yes, My Goddess?" she whispers back in her perfectly relaxed voice. "You're sleeping in my bed tonight, now get up here." She moves towards me with elegance, every curve in her body noticeable to me, for I've seen in her in this naked state thousands of times before. Her raw beauty still amazes me, just like it did when we were in middle school.
I'm snapped out of my trance when I hear my pet's collar jingles. I'll never admit it to her, but every time I hear that bell, I get quite excited. I love feeling as if I own her. She's mine, just as the paper contract we have framed in our Orange Room states.
"Audrey?" my kitten purrs to me, immediately regretting it.
"What did you call me?" my voice slightly raised.
"I'm deeply sorry, Queen," she knows a punishment is coming, I can see the slight excitement in her eyes.
She lays face down, ass up on our white bed sheets. We decided that white sheets would always be good for nights that we were playing because Charlotte could just bleach them in the morning. Anyway, I look down at her ass and decide I'll use the belt that I often wear to work on her tonight. I'd get one of our nicer whips, but I don't want to have to go down to the basement tonight.
I ask my kitten if she's okay with a beating and she nods without hesitation. As I dominate, I should make more of our decisions, but consent is very important to me and I refuse to do anything without asking. This has always been the way we've played, even when we first dabbled in BDSM. Constant questions, making sure she's comfortable, making sure she never feels violated or hurt in any way. Sometimes I think it annoys Charlotte, but she understands why and I would be uncomfortable if I wasn't sure that she was okay with what was happening.
The belt feels a little heavy in my hands, but it's probably just that I'm tired. I ask once again if my kitten is okay with her punishment and she assures me that it's okay. I fold the belt in half and whip her with just about half of my strength, not wanting to go too quickly.
"Whenever you put on that collar, Kitten, my name is no longer Audrey. I'm Queen, Mistress, Goddess. How many times do we have to go over this?" I whip her again, this time with more force.
"Yes, Goddess," my kitten says with a wavering tone in her voice.
"You'll receive five hits and maybe that will teach you to respect me, you slut," I say a little louder than I meant to.
"I'm sorry, My Queen," she says softly, relishing in the feeling of the beating.
I hit her three more times and I can tell she's enjoying it. I'm also getting very wet during this entire process. The enjoyment I feel from taking control is quite extreme, and it's taken me many years of practice to learn to stay calm during sessions.
"I plan to fuck you now," I say in my "dom" voice as Charlotte likes to call it.
She only gives me a simple nod because she's still recovering from her beating.
I thought about grabbing a dildo from my nightstand drawer, but tonight was going to be slow and enjoyable, and I didn't want anything to find her G-spot but me. It was my job. We worked very hard at the beginning of our relationship teaching me how to properly finger her, and I wanted to use those skills now.
I slip one finger in and I can tell my kitten wants to moan, but she knows that she isn't allowed to without my permission.
"Kitten, you're allowed to make noise," I speak down to her as she slowly floats into subspace.
She can only manage a simple "mhm" at this point.
As I slip a second finger into her, I notice she's bleeding. An utter sense of panic rushes over me momentarily, but then I think back to breakfast this morning when she mentioned her period starting.
I can hear now that I've found her G-spot and she's getting close. We've probably been at this for ten minutes, which doesn't bother me. Other than the fact that I can't feel my hand, this is basically euphoria. I love seeing my pet on the verge of orgasm.
I can feel her clench up, almost ready to cum, and that's when I pull out.
"You didn't think it would be that easy, did you?" I say, teasing.
Kissing her lips gently, she whispers "I love you, Mistress."
I start to nibble down to her neck, knowing exactly where to sink my teeth. I'd learned over the years that my kitten had one spot that drives her crazy. As I bite down, the deepest, most pleasurable moan escapes from her mouth and I know I've found it.
I want to mark her tonight. To leave a perfectly shaped hickey on her beautiful neck. To prove I'm in charge to not only her but to the whole world as well.
We used to be scared of giving each other marks that we couldn't cover. I guess that's natural because as kids, hickeys would have alerted our parents that we were fucking and that would have been horrible. Now as adults, though, we often mark each other. So often actually that once one of Charlotte's coworkers asked her if she was being abused. We had a good laugh over it and started to be a little more cautious about hickeys, but tonight I didn't care.
I slowly work to her hips, which are by far the most sensitive part of my kitten's body. She jolts forward when I sink my bite into her. She wants me, she wants me to dominate her in every sense. I would take her down to our Orange Room and give her what she wants, but I don't think I have enough energy tonight and domming through exhaustion can be risky and unsafe. So until I can rest up, I'll stick to endless teasing that makes for multiple killer orgasms.
As teens, Charlotte loved foreplay. She still does, no doubt, but now I've learned to love it too. The moment I'd walk into her house, I was ready to fuck. Slowly as our relationship progressed, Charlotte teased me for hours, so I taught myself to enjoy how wet I got. I'd often end up with my inner thighs being completely moist before she was even close to pleasuring me.
I'm almost ready to taste her now. She's begging for my tongue through soft whimpers and purrs. As I place my mouth upon her clit, ready to pleasure her, my cell phone rings. It's 3am and only patients ever call me this early in the morning. Glancing over at my phone, I see that it's Evelyn. Out of the four patients who have my cell phone number, she's by far the one who needs it most. The fact that she called me, rather than texting me raises concern. She has to be in danger. I answer the phone quickly, scared that something has happened to her.
"Audrey, fuck. I did it. I fucking did it," Evelyn yells over the phone to me.
"What did you do? I'm glad you called me," I say, scared as hell. Being a clinical psychologist is a tough job, to say the least. I've been seeing Evelyn for the past 5 months now and her progress is still very slight. I gave her my phone number about 2 months in after she expressed her suicidal ideation. Knowing that she's been really low the past 2 weeks, she probably attempted her life.
"I'm drunk, I cut, I fucking attempted," she says with very slurred speech.
"Can you tell me what you used to attempt?"
"Fuck it. I'm done. I'm sorry I bothered you."
"I need you to stay on the phone with me."
"You can't tell my mom, please."
"I'm legally obligated to make sure your mother finds out, I'm sorry. You can hate me, but I have to make sure you're okay." The phone line goes dead and I begin to panic. I see Charlotte has removed her collar, which is only allowed in situations like this. She's also grabbed me some clothes and a glass of water. We both know it's going to be a long night. I scroll through my contacts and find Evelyn's mother, Rosie. I tap on her name and know I'm prepared to really ruin someone's night. She picks up immediately. "Hello, Rosie, it's Audrey Ambrosio, Evelyn's therapist."
"Dammit, what did she do?"
"I need you to go and check on your daughter. She's informed me that she's attempted her life. You also should take her to the hospital if possible."
"I will, thank you for informing me."
"It's my job. I'm going to call Evelyn back and try to talk her through this." I hang up the phone, anxious to see how she's doing. As I dial Evelyn's number, I notice Charlotte's fully clothed now and it's a little upsetting. We haven't had sex in weeks because I had had a stressful day at EMDR and wasn't exactly in a position to be aroused.
"You told her, didn't you?" Evelyn says angrily.
"I had to, I'm very sorry."
"Well, I'm fine, okay?" "I don't think so. Now, will what you used kill you?"
"No. I took Tylenol, I'll be okay."
"I'm going to suggest you go to the hospital, just to be sure."
"Yeah, I figured you would say that. I will. Can I call you if I get put into inpatient?"
"Always, Evelyn. Please let me know how you're doing. Good luck." She hangs up the phone and I immediately begin to cry. Charlotte is already prepared to hold me through the pain. I don't handle this job as well as I should. As I continued to see Evelyn, I realized how much like me she is. Her story almost mirrors mine, so I feel like I can really help her. Along with that, every time she turns for the worst, it takes me back to when my own mental illness had almost taken my life. I nestle my head between Charlotte's boobs and just let it all out. I love crying into her as she holds me close. I can just forget about everything and remember how far we've come. It's quite amazing actually. "I'm really sorry about this baby," I say through sniffles.
"I knew this was a possibility when I married you hunny. And you know I love holding you."
"I love you, Charlotte Rose Ambrosio."
"I love you to the moon and back, Audrey Kathlynn Ambrosio."