The next morning we breakfasted on the bagels and pastries Lynn had thoughtfully brought along with the ribs.
“Um, about last night,” she began shyly, spreading cream cheese.
Uh-oh, I thought. Here comes the denial. I stopped breathing and just looked at her.
“I… I really meant it, Jane. I couldn't have said I love you if I didn't. I surprised myself, but, upon reflection, I find I mean it. I do,” she sighed as if a burden had been lifted.
I reached across, took her hand, and kissed it. “Bless you, my lord."
Lynn smiled radiantly. “Look how long it took me to find the right person. No, Jane, I am not going to let you get away."
“I really am glad, Lynn. Sometimes we say things in the heat of passion we don't really mean."
Lynn stopped spreading cream cheese and lanced me with a glare. “Excuse me?"
“I don't doubt you, love. I meant some people, not all people, and certainly not you,” I babbled.
“Quit groveling,” she ordered.
“I thought you liked groveling,” I said, picking up my bagel.
She stopped to think. “I love it. Actually, now that you mention it, you may grovel at any time. Acceptable."
“I thought so.” I gathered my courage. “Lynn, I was thinking of having some friends of mine over next weekend, frankly to introduce you. I was gonna do a barbecue again, but let folks cook their own. What do you think?"
She chewed as she considered my request. “Um, meet your friends? Well, I have to check my calendar and I'd really like to know exactly who they are before I commit. If they were, for example, parents of students, I couldn't. And there are some other kinds of people I frankly would prefer not to meet."
“Okay, like who?"
“Like anyone from the club. I can't possibly reveal myself to anyone from there,” she said firmly.
That eliminated Bev. “Anyone else?"
“I, uh, prefer not to advertise this to anyone in this county involved in education. I'll explain. In Florida, persecution of gay educators is cyclic. Periodically there are witch-hunts, and people who are merely suspected of homosexuality are dismissed, right along with those who actually are gay. I'm not ashamed, but I can't be out. I can't afford to be."
“Educators from other counties?” I asked.
“Possibly, depending on their position and orientation.” Lynn nodded.
“Well, they would all be gay,” I assured her.
“I can't promise you anything. Give me a list of names with a thumbnail bio on each and I'll get back to you. How's that?” She smiled as though she had done me some enormous favor, and I wasn't about to push my luck.
“I can bring it by this afternoon or tomorrow. When am I seeing you again?” I asked her.
“Oh, honey, you wore me out last night! Let's not have too much of a good thing. Tomorrow afternoon at four will give me plenty of time to catch up on my projects. All right?"
I almost laughed. Lynn's assumption was that I would never have a conflict with her wishes or her schedule. For the moment anyway, her assumption was 100% accurate.
“Absolutely. I'll be there,” I said.
“I'll have a nice surprise for you then, too,” she promised. She got up and kissed my forehead. “Walk me out?” Already her mind was elsewhere and I knew better than to fuss. We had been together over twelve hours already.
“Yes, dear,” I said meekly, helping her gather up her things, and she winked at me in that adorable way she had, letting me know my compliance met with her approval.
I put everything in her trunk and she backed out. Glancing around furtively, Lynn blew me a little kiss and roared off. I had been relegated neatly to my appointed slot, to be released only at her pleasure.
If I hadn't wanted to be Lynn's slave, this might have bothered me. I had different plans about how to be her slave, but I certainly didn't consider myself either her equal or her superior. For now, her strict control of our relationship was acceptable. She had to get to know me and see how far she could trust me. Then she could ease up. She said so herself.
Late in the afternoon she called, which she almost never did, and announced that she had found time to read my book.
“I was most impressed. What are you working on now?” she demanded.
I told her about my Terran exobiologist and her struggle to save a habitable planet for the outcasts of a pre-industrial society.
“Hmm. May I see what you have so far? Bring it tomorrow.” Subject closed.
“Yes, ma'am.” I was willing to be meek, especially in this regard. Her connections in publishing were incomparable. I didn't know a soul but my porn publisher. Lynn's name could open doors.
“Good, and don't forget those bios,” she ordered.
“Yes, ma'am. I'm working on them,” I assured her.
“Excellent. One more thing: you won't need your uniform tomorrow. See you then, honey. Bye."
“Ciao,” I said, but the line was already dead. I shook my head and grinned. Only Lynn could call me “honey” and hang up on me in the same minute. And since it was her demanding, imperious nature that had attracted me, I couldn't complain, so I went back to work.
Inspired by thoughts of literary success at last, I wrote all day, copied what I had onto a disk, and made up the bios as demanded. All of this went into my briefcase along with more toys that Lynn liked.
Everything seemed to be going according to plan, hers and mine. Therefore, I went to Lynn's house with the most optimistic of attitudes on Sunday afternoon, looking forward to the surprise she had promised. So far, everything she had done had been wonderful. As I rang the doorbell, I had visions of eating a banana split out of her pussy.
“It's open,” I heard her call out. “Come in and close it behind you."
I stepped in and shut the door. Lynn wasn't there, so I waited. She liked making me wait, I remembered. I put my briefcase down and stood patiently.
“Jane."
She had appeared without warning, standing in the archway that led to the bedrooms, attired in a formal English riding habit, minus the hat. My mouth went dry and I felt my knees wobble. Her high black boots glistened; her hair was perfectly combed. The white breeches were immaculate, the black velvet trim on her black coat like a starless night sky. Her brilliant white stock was decorated with a single pearl. In her gloved hand was a crop.
“Come here,” Lynn said, her chin high.
“Dr. Jeffries,” I breathed.
“Now, Jane,” she said.
I walked toward her, but she frowned at me so intently I gathered this was incorrect and dropped to my knees, crawling the rest of the way until I was prostrate at her feet. I felt a boot on my neck.
“Do you love me?” she asked.
“More every minute,” I mumbled against the Spanish tiles.
The boot was removed, but quickly found a new home on my ass. I began to wet myself. “Oh, God,” I moaned.
“That's a good start,” she said. She kicked my legs apart and I whimpered. I hadn't been in subspace since the day I fixed her window, and that had been a brief trip, however sweet. She slid her left boot up under me into my crotch and pressed down on my butt with her right.
“Ah! Please, Dr. Jeffries,” I groaned, writhing against her leather. It was marvelous.
“Get up, horsey,” she directed.
I scrambled to my hands and knees and she seated herself on my back, but gently, keeping in mind I was no spring chicken. Her weight was well down toward my hips where I could carry her safely.
She swatted me with her crop. “Giddyap."
“Um, where to?” I asked.
“My bedroom, down the hall,” she said. “Move it."
Looking ahead, I saw the double doors at the end of the hall were open for the first time ever, and I lost no time taking my mistress to her chambers.
I was panting by the time I got there, and sore, and Lynn got off me quickly. “You all right?” She sounded a little anxious.
“Yes, ma'am,” I told her.
“Have some water.” Lynn pointed. There was a large bowl of water on the floor near the bathroom.
I trusted her not to make me share with Paprika, so I crawled over and drank. I wondered if she'd make me go outside and pee in the grass when I needed to.
“Come here, Jane,” she called me, and I turned to find her seated in an armchair. Obediently I crawled to her and French-kissed her smooth, shiny boots. Ambrosia. I nuzzled her instep and rested my cheek on it. I could have stayed like that all night.
“You like that, don't you?” she asked. “I think maybe you like it too much. Take your clothes off. Animals don't wear clothing."
Hastily I removed everything and folded it under an antique dresser out of the sight of my mistress and waited on my knees for her next command.
“Look what I have for you,” Lynn said, holding something up where I could see it. It was my clit clip. She must have palmed it the other night at the house.
I smiled, “My lord is too kind."
“I am, aren't I? Lie on your back for me, slave,” she said, tilting her chin in that haughty way she had that just drove me wild.
I lay down immediately at her feet.
“Spread your legs wide,” Lynn said. “Around the legs of the chair."
It was a stretch but I managed it, thrusting myself up at her. I thought she would put the clip on right then, but she had other plans. She settled back in the chair, crossed her legs at the ankle and rested her heel deeply in my crotch. She picked up the remote to her TV and turned it on to some nature program or other. “Don't move,” she advised. Then she ignored me.
“Uuhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” I gasped. The weight of both her legs was right on my clit! How was I supposed to hold still? I couldn't. I writhed against her boot.
She joggled her leg, sending waves of sensation through me. “Didn't you hear me?” she snapped. “What did I tell you?"
“You… you said not to move, but then you made me,” I whined, pressing against her for more.
Lynn snarled down at me, “If you move again, I'll take my boot away and put the clip on. I'll take my boots off and I won't let you kiss them or lick them again. If you want to feel my leather in your cunt, Cunt, stay still."
She let me feel her heel move again, and then she stopped and I lay in delicious torment under her boot, willing myself to motionlessness and concentrating on the sensation of her hard touch in my softest, most vulnerable place. I could feel myself oozing. “Oh, thank you. Oh, please, Dr. Jeffries, don't take your boot away,” I begged.
“Be quiet, you reptile. You don't deserve the touch of my leather,” Lynn remarked, and she shifted slightly so that the edge of her heel dug in.
“Ahhhhhhh!” I shrieked, but I was perfectly still. “Thank you!” I groaned. “Oh, Jesus, thank you."
“Aren't you ashamed of being so helpless and so needy?” she whispered, looking down at me over the toes of her boots. “What kind of person would beg to writhe under the boots of such a demanding bitch, hmmm?” she teased and she wiggled her foot again.
“Oh, don't stop, please don't stop,” I babbled. If she kept doing that I would come, but we both knew that wasn't going too happen.
She rocked her boots in my crotch and I moaned in ecstasy under them. “Oh, God, I love you so much,” I practically wept.
Lynn looked down her nose at me. “Oh, I know you do, but you're not going to come that way. Far too easy and way too soon. You have to earn it.” Without warning, she removed her boots from my crotch and I wailed with loss.
“Lick my heel clean, slut."
I turned over, grabbed her boot and licked it where it had rested in me. I was on fire. I hurt so bad, wanting her.
Viciously she yanked her foot away and rolled me over. Swiftly she knelt and clipped me, easily holding my arms out of the way, and then she lay full-length on top of me, devouring my mouth.
“Lynn, Lynn,” I muttered through a haze of longing. “Let me love you. Let me eat you, please, please.” My hips jerked out of control, the sensation of the pressure of the clip on my clit was intense. What was more, she still had her gloves on and her touch on my bare skin was extremely exciting.
“How dare you address me by my first name, you unworthy piece of trash?” she demanded. “Roll over."
I heaved myself onto my stomach and lay whimpering as she applied the crop to my bare ass. I hadn't been whipped in such a long time. The heat was delicious, as was the knowledge it was being applied by the dominant of my dreams. “Jesus, Dr. Jeffries, ma'am, oh, thank you!” I howled.
I don't know how many she gave me, but my ass was on fire by the time she got done, to match my pounding clit, and it was glorious. Tears of joy ran down my cheeks and I wallowed in her absolute authority over me.
I heard the sound of a zipper and then she was prodding me with her booted foot. “On your back."
Lynn knelt down on top of me, her knees pinning my thighs to the rug, her gloved hands on my shoulders. Her coat was off and her pants were down and I saw she wore no underwear. “Fuck me,” she ordered, and lowered herself between my legs so that there was contact between her thigh and my clip. I worked my hand up inside her and began to stroke her.
“Oh… yes,” she sighed, “Oh, God, yes, baby, do me. Mmmmm."
She thrust against me rhythmically, pushing the clip into me each time. I writhed against her. Maybe I could have thrown her off, but my only desire at that moment was to please her and feel her come.
“Ohhhh, Mistress,” I gasped. I had never called her that before.
“Oh, yes, I am that. I am your liege, your lord, your lady, your master, your owner, and more, and don't you ever forget it,” Lynn grunted in my ear. Her eyes were shut in concentration as she approached climax. “Fuck me, you sleazy excuse for a slave."
“What… do you like best?” I whispered. “What title?"
“Shut up, Jane, and get me off,” she commanded.
“Can I eat you?” I begged.
“Not right now.” Lynn was panting with need. “Inside deeper, and harder,” she gasped. “I wanna come so bad, all over you. I want you wet from my orgasms. Understand?"
“Mmmmmm, yes, ma'am, Dr. Jeffries. I love you, Dr. Jeffries,” I recited, stroking her slick, soft canal and the hard, throbbing organ to which I was truly enslaved.
“Yes, yes, yes, like that…” she coached me. Then she went still.
“Oh, Gods!” she screeched, bearing down into my hand with all her strength and all her weight. “Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!” Her little hips jerked and thrust as she climaxed, and I felt her wetness, which was already considerable, spread over my thighs.
“Oh, Lynn, baby,” I murmured, quite sure she wasn't listening. “Come hard, lover. Come really hard."
She did so and made me feel every tremor through my clamped clitoris, which was enormously engorged in response to her passion and pleasure. I pushed up as she pushed down, and she screamed and squealed and moaned.
Finally Lynn collapsed on top of me, gasping for breath, and I caressed the back of her neck, which was wet with sweat. “Dear, sweet Dr. Jeffries,” I grinned up at her. “That's the title you like best, isn't it?"
She opened one eye. “Yes, I think so, and whenever I'm dominating you, that's what I want to hear. Remember that, if you want to come."
“I want to come, Dr. Jeffries,” I said sincerely.
“We'll see.” She pushed up. “Go get me some ice water from the kitchen, slave, and don't you dare touch that clip.” She sat back down in her armchair and started undoing her stock so she could open her shirt. I quickly kissed her feet and ran to do as I was told.
When I returned, I brought her the water on my knees and waited with my head bowed. Lynn put the glass aside and beckoned me closer. “Spread your legs wide, slut."
I was kneeling before her and between her boots now, and she reached between my legs and played with the clip.
“Oh, please, Dr. Jeffries, please touch me,” I whimpered as the spasms tore through my groin. I doubled up. “Oh, God, please."
“I should make you do yourself,” she remarked, looking down at me.
“Please let me feel your leather,” I begged. “Please."
Lynn reached between my legs again, caught the clip with her fingers and eased it off. “You know what happens now, of course. But only if I touch you.” She tossed the clip on the table and sat back, looking at me.
“What do you want me to do? I'll do anything,” I begged, desperate. I had been on the verge for what seemed like hours.
Lynn pulled me close and began to tease my nipples with her gloved fingers. I squirmed and wet myself even more as she tortured me ever so gently. She eased her tongue into my mouth and let me suck it. She did everything I wanted except to touch my clit, which felt hugely swollen.
Then she stroked, just once, and let go of me. The orgasm was like a shock wave and I collapsed on the floor at her feet. “Lick my boots while you come,” she demanded, and I slobbered all over them uncontrollably, smooth and slightly bitter to my tongue. I ground my hips against the floor and rolled back and forth as I gobbled her leather. I started to reach between my legs for more sensation, but she was quicker than I. She let me have a good swift kick to my bicep that felt like an electric shock and she warned me, “Don't you dare touch yourself. Get up!” As soon as I had struggled to my knees again, she stroked my clit once more and knocked me flat on my face to lick her boots again, and she did it to me again and again until I couldn't move, couldn't come, couldn't even breathe.
In those moments, she made me completely dependent on her touch, and made sure I knew that no matter how small she was, no matter how often she came to my room to be dominated herself, I was her property, and even my own clit didn't belong to me.
As I lay still on the carpet, blinking up at her, Lynn stood over me, rested her boot on my throat and said, “Never touch yourself without my permission, Jane. If I ever find out you've been masturbating, you won't come for a month. All of your orgasms belong to me. Is that clear?"
“Yes, Dr. Jeffries,” I told her, stroking her boot. “I belong to you. You're the boss."
Her smile was benevolent. “Good girl."