This was new; the Blue Haired Minx had me all soppy, cradling me in her arms, mesmerising me with those big doe eyes. Beautiful brown eyes burning into me with purpose.
Obligingly restrained, my arms had been tethered behind me using the waist straps of my dress. Bound at elbow and wrist, removing my ability to touch, hug or hold;
I became a plaything.
I’d found myself dropping to my knees before her, kissing her feet as she stroked my hair. Climbing onto her lap at her request, enjoying the smoothness of her latex dress, I nuzzled into her cleavage, kissing her neck. I was eager to please, obeying the command to open my legs so she could push my white knickers aside.
I was surprised at myself; surprised at how she tapped into the submissive side of me. Impressed by how easily she transitioned into Domme, straightening herself to dominant pose, firm instructions. A natural. Like the dynamic between us had clicked into its rightful place.
I’d played a power exchange with him, my man, getting satisfaction from carrying out his orders, receiving praise. But this was different; a very natural, very public display of submission. Something I’d previously kept quite private, something that was responding to the power of her words, her calling me a ‘good girl’.
The party continued around us, music and the tinkle of happy voices. I was only vaguely aware that we were being observed, appreciatively so. Lost in connection with her we could have been anywhere, we could have been alone.
She had such gentle fingers, expert technique without any hesitation. I melted in her embrace until an additional pair of hands came in to hold me, firmly gripping my thighs, holding my legs open to allow her access without ever having to break eye contact.
The details are lost in a whirl of moaning, back arching pleasure. Her soft lips pressing on mine with passionate kisses until my mouth contorted in pleasure and she pulled back to watch, to admire the effect she was having.
A camera snaps, were there other people here? Oh yes. The party. Momentarily I am aware that they would have never seen me like this before. I love my friends, loved that I felt safe enough to be vulnerable; to bow to the compulsion to sit at her feet, to let them enjoy watching me be ravaged like this. Watching me build to climax.
My hazy spacey memory doesn’t recall a warning, whether I told her I was about to cum, if she knew I was about to tropical storm all over the kitchen floor, a warm, wet jetstream. What I do recall, with crystal clear clarity, is the triumphant look on her beautiful face.
Real or imagined I heard a voice say “Don’t stop, she’s still going”
Was it me? Did I say that that out loud, or in my head? Either way, it was true. Her skilful fingers continued as I was rocked by another wave. She held me strong as my core tensed, the phenomenal propulsion prompting an appreciative murmur from our audience.
Mutually satisfied, she with her achievement and me in a happily ruined puddle, I don’t know how long I stayed there in her arms. Content. Admiring the gorgeous girl who had spoiled me so. Spoiled our audience with an act some thought only happened in porn.
I felt like a star.
She seduced the submissive in me and made me fly. I could have never predicted we’d make it rain that night.