Mistress Sapphira stretched an arm out elegantly and clicked her fingers. Suddenly there was a small bottle in her hand. ‘Would you look at that? Coconut oil! Now, Felicity was my first project, and so don’t be surprised when she isn’t the gorgeous cocktail of humiliated, confused, submissive that Chloe is.’ Mistress Sapphira smirked silently for a tantalising few seconds. ‘But more of that later.’ She strode over to the central stool, and bent down to pick up a whiteboard and pen which were lying on the floor in front of her. She placed the whiteboard and pen into the girl’s hands and whispered something in her ear.
Eve began to grunt and shudder on her stool.
‘Eve had a similar problem to Felicity. A weakness of the mind, a vulnerability exploited by her desire for food. To assess the success of my therapy I will now unlock the deepest parts of Eve’s subconscious by asking her to write her favourite food on this whiteboard whilst unconscious. Ok Eve, can you take this for me?’ She placed the whiteboard onto the girl’s lap and dropped the pen into her hand. ‘And now if you can just do one more thing for me. I need you to look deep inside yourself, explore your cravings. Imagine the taste, the indulgence, the mouthfeel. What does it look like? What does it smell like? Visualise the shape, feel the need. You’re so, so hungry. What do you imagine? Feel your hand guided, held in the pleasant driving force of your hunger. That’s it. Big letters. It feels good to admit it, doesn’t it? Well done, keep going. You’re doing so well! Wonderful. Now, perhaps those cravings for food, instead of going away, were simply . . . concentrated, intensified and repackaged into something much sweeter. If presented with something that might satisfy her desires . . .’ Mistress Sapphira took the whiteboard, Eve’s hand dropping to her side limp and lifeless. The pen rolled under her stool. Mistress Sapphira held the whiteboard and presented it to the audience in mock disbelief. PUSSY was written in large shaky characters, eliciting a flutter of laughter from the audience. ‘Ok Eve it’s time to wake up. That’s right, wakey wakey!’
Suddenly Eve brought her head up, smiling dreamily as her eyes began to take in the room again. She looked up and gazed at Mistress Sapphira with unrestrained adoration.
‘That’s right, Eve. Gently does it. You remember where you are? Good. Eve, you said earlier you’ve lost 15 pounds in over a month. You weren’t telling a fib, were you?’
The girl shook her head earnestly. ‘Of course not.’
Mistress Sapphira beamed with pride. ‘Lovely. And you’ve experienced no . . . regression? Taking up earlier bad habits as a sort of substitute?’
‘I wouldn’t keep visiting you if I did.’
‘I wouldn’t be so sure. Anyway, I was just revealing to our wonderful audience here the secret to your weight loss. You wrote it down yourself, in trance. Do you remember what you wrote?’
‘I would guess something like ‘hypnotherapy’ or ‘Dr Mitchell’ or something like that.’
Mistress Sapphira laughed throatily. ‘I should jolly well hope so! It’s a hard job, but knowing I’ve made a positive impact, and that my clients are grateful for my—oh.’
‘What’s wrong? Did I write the wrong thing?’
‘Oh no, I’m just—well it’s—here, have a look.’
Eve’s face fell. pussy? she mouthed. Surely this was some joke, a temporarily embarrassing hypnotic game. She wouldn’t actually write that, would she? Suddenly the audience was laughing, and it suddenly felt very silly to take it all so seriously. Eve laughed nervously, taking comfort in Mistress Sapphira’s warm smile.
‘I’m not sure . . . any of us expected that. Did you, Eve. I thought not. Of course, being a pervert is nothing to be ashamed of, not in this day and age. I’ve certainly seen worse things happen before a crowd of—what, 500 people? Still, I find it worrying that after all our sessions this powerful, deeply ingrained sapphic desire was never brought to my attention!’
Now Eve was giggling. Mistress Sapphira’s manner meant one thing: It was just a gag. Eve had no clue how she had been made to embarrass herself like that, but at least it was just part of the performance.
‘But of course! That’s the nature of deeply ingrained subliminals. Oftentimes the subject won’t even realise they exist, let alone how they are affected by them. Of course Eve would never tell me about them—because she didn’t know they were there. Perhaps Eve’s lying. Perhaps she’s not’ She threw back the curtain with a flourish, to reveal Felicity still dozing peacefully.
Eve insides somersaulted, tugged, knotted. Surely Mistress couldn’t actually be implying . . . what she thought she was? And what, that she was going to—to prove it? On stage? Something was off. Her eyes darted nervously between the sweetly napping girl before her and the dominatrix whose eyes gleamed with something that turned her stomach sick. She couldn’t do anything awful, surely. Not here, not in front of so many people. ‘Mist—Dr Mitchell, I don’t feel—’
‘Hush now, Eve dear. You can trust me, you know that.’
Eve knew that. Why did she always have to overthink things? She realised she had tensed her legs, and let them relaxed. It felt much better.
Felicity mumbled something unintelligible before opening her eyes. She looked around until she found that familiar gaze of Mistress Sapphira.
Eve saw the memory of a warm dreamy smile on Felicity’s face. She was all too familiar with that wonderful feeling of emerging from one of Mistress’ trances, and felt a small pang of envy.
‘Up here, my sleepy little dormouse. Now, while you’ve been out, Eve and I have been playing a little game. Eve, would you like to explain?’
‘Uh, no. Where are you going with this?’
A smirk spread across Mistress Sapphira’s face, utterly ignoring her. ‘The pleasure falls on my shoulders, it appears. Eve has a little problem. She really really wants to eat your pussy, she’s just too embarrassed to say so.’ The confusion in Felicty’s expression flashed to shocked anger, and Mistress Sapphira took a perverse delight in her shock.
‘It’s not true!’ Eve blurted out. ‘I don’t want to eat your pussy. Mistress, say it’s not true.’ She looked at Felicity hopefully. Eve knew it wasn’t true. Mistress was just making it up for a game.
Felicity, her mind still sluggish, felt an urge to angrily protest against this public objectification, but she was oddly calm. She was suddenly reminded of an old biblical story she’d heard as a child—God told Abraham to kill his child, but right before he did so, God revealed it was merely a test. That’s what this was, a test. Mistress Sapphira wasn’t evil, she was just playing a game—albeit one that, in Felicity’s opinion, was in terrible taste. It wasn’t like Mistress Sapphira could make them do something they didn’t want to, or have them have sex on stage, especially when there were hundreds of witnesses. That was ridiculous. Eve was just getting too worked up, and it didn’t suit her. If they just played along, she was sure they’d all be able to laugh about it afterwards. Despite this, something about Eve’s urgency was slightly off-putting. ‘Eve, relax. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. It’s okay.’
Mistress Sapphira resisted the urge to giggle. ‘How wonderfully pure. What a shame it isn’t true. I’m sure Eve can’t imagine anything more delightful than burying her face between your thighs, but she just needs a little bit of encouragement. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?’
Eve shook her head vigorously. The act gave her strength. She could resist. She would be fine. ‘I would never—’
‘Mistress, you don’t have to do this. She’s not comfortable. This is weird.’ Felicity said, her voice wavering.
‘Yeah’ Eve chimed in. ‘This is getting really weird.’
‘I never took you for such bores. You two don’t know that—you’ve barely got to know each other!’ With a flourish Mistress Sapphira revealed a small bottle of clear liquid from her previously empty hand. ‘Do you know what this is? That’s right, it’s oil. Coconut oil.’
Felicity’s face turned a deathly pale, her body rigid.
‘Eve, I trust you to use this with your best judgement. This is powerful stuff, and something Felicity happens to be dangerously addicted to. Just one small drop is like crack, and will send her into an indulgent frenzy. See the way she stares at it. She knows she would do anything for the feel of that warm, slick lubricant on her soft skin. She loves it.’
‘No no no no no no no.’ Felicity cried, but she knew it was true. She felt her skin tingle and her mind fog over as the thought sent delightful shivers through her body. She cursed herself for not seeing this coming. A series of images bombarded her mind, as she remembered all those dreamy massages and mind shattering orgasms she’d received courtesy of Dr Mitchell and her warm, silky oil . . . as Eve sat entranced by the bottle Felicity was gripped by terror. If she stayed here she knew she was doomed. She stood up on trembling legs, but she felt so weak . . .
Mistress Sapphira was standing behind Eve, running a hand down her arm. ‘She wants to leave. Should I make her stay?’
Eve watched as Felicity stumbled off the stool and took a few clumsy steps. She looked dumbly at the bottle, then at mistress, then back at the girl. Was this whole thing a trick? What was going on? Felicity was getting away, that was for sure. Mistress was holding something that Felicity wanted, or didn’t realise she wanted, or something. Then why was she leaving? Things weren’t making sense. Maybe Felicity didn’t know what she was doing. She just needed some more time to figure this whole thing out, but she felt control of the situation rapidly slipping away from her. Felicity was getting away. ‘Yes.’
‘Felicity! You heard her. We’re not finished yet, darling.’
With a helpless moan Felicity turned around and staggered back to her stool.
‘I’m sorry! I just—’ Eve’s gaze shifted nervously, avoiding Felicity’s hateful stare. Had she done something wrong? ‘I just . . . I have to figure this out. I’m so confused.’
‘I don’t care that you’re confused. I need to leave. Let me go. LET ME GO! Listen to me, please. I won’t say anything, I promise, please—just . . . let me go.’ Felicity’s voice was now barely a whisper.
Eve’s tone rose in pitch. What should she do? ‘I don’t . . . I—’ she looked despairingly at Mistress. ‘Please, I—’
‘Tell her to let me go! You don’t want this. Don’t you remember what she’s doing to you? She’s controlling you!’
‘I don’t know what I want! What you’re saying can’t be true. Mistress? Please, say it’s not true.’ Eve looked around in a panic. All those eyes—the bright lights—if only Felicity would shut up-
‘You know what you want.’
Eve’s bottom lip trembled. ‘No. I don’t . . . I don’t want her pussy.’
‘Then—then let me go!’ Felicity screamed. ‘Don’t you hear yourself? Someone, please help me!’
‘I need to think!’ Eve cried, shaking and holding the back of her pounding head.
‘Think of me! Help me!’
Eve felt something in her hand. Mistress Sapphira had given her the small bottle of oil. Could it really do what Mistress said?
‘Don’t do it.’ Felicity wailed. ‘Nooo . . .’
‘I’m sorry. I need to . . . I don’t know.’ Eve said helplessly. She stared at Felicity who thrashed about on her stool. Surely she wasn’t happy. She needs to calm down, relax. She looked so confused.
‘Look how yummy she looks. Don’t you want to taste her? She’s getting all hot for you, I can tell.’
‘No, you . . . you’re making me. It’s . . . it’s not right.’
Felicity wailed and stamped her feet on the floor.
‘You’re so hungry, Eve. It’s not fair. You want it. You need it.’
Eve shook her head, her throat dry and a desperate aching inside her. It wasn’t right, not here, not now. Even so, it was getting so hard to think. Felicity was making so much noise, and a deep pounding in her skull added another distraction to her already confused mind. Didn’t Felicity realise she just wanted the best for her?
‘The oil.’ Mistress Sapphira drawled, as if reading her thoughts.
‘Please, please God, someone stop it. I can’t . . . I can’t . . .’
‘God, Felicity—shut up! I need to think. I need . . . I need . . . you to stop. You’re so loud.’ She stepped up from her stool and began to walk towards the poor girl.
Felicity’s tear-stricken face lit up in desperation. ‘You don’t want to do this. Think. Think!’
Eve shuddered. ‘I can’t! Please. Don’t be angry with me.’ She stood over Felicity now, clutching the bottle.
Felicity’s chest heaved with every breath and a glassy look entered her eyes. ‘No, no no please don’t’ she began to mumble incoherently, her wide eyes unblinking, tied to the bottle.
‘I . . . I don’t know—just sit still.’ Eve whispered as she unscrewed the lid and dribbled some into her hands. She sent one last shaky look back at Mistress Sapphira before rubbing the oil into Felicity’s shoulders.
Felicity tensed up, here it was, the change, unable to think, unable to run, just condemned to mindlessly giving in to what she realised she completely needed more than anything right there—wow! Goosebumps sprung up on her pale skin as a warm flush shot through her body. Ecstasy! A mindless, delightful queasiness overtook her and her nipples hardened underneath her dress. Before she lost herself to the pleasure, a small part of her felt relief in her submission, knowing that nothing she could have done would have changed anything. She could barely register the faint gasps of wonder from the audience. ‘Oooh, oh my God you bitch, I—I can’t believe you’re—’ She was cut off as Eve began to rub the oil into her skin. ‘Mmmmh, yeah, oh, that’s . . . that’s nice. Just keep doing that. Oh wow . . .’ She swayed lightly on the stool as her protests muddled themselves into giddiness. Her voice, warm and rich, had lost its shrill tone, the slick oily pleasure washing away all her spite.
‘That’s right. See? It’s all okay now.’ Eve let out a breath she hadn’t realise she was holding. She had done the right thing.
‘Mhm. Yeah, I guess so. Ah!’ Felicity giggled, shuddering under Eve’s gently massaging fingers.
‘I told you I’d figure this out. You’re much nicer when you relax, you know.’
‘Ooh! I just—I just need this so much . . .’ she gasped.
‘I know, just—just keep still—’
‘So good . . . so . . . mmh . . .’ The harsh lights shining from the rafters, the sweat on her forehead, and oil on her skin gave her body a brilliant shine. She moved her legs apart, steadying herself on the stool as she melted into Eve’s caress.
Eve tried to ignore Felicity’s quivering chest, but with every second she found her gaze drawn down past her neckline to that decadent décolletage, the sharp neckline guiding her vision down between her breasts. It seemed to Eve that the thin fabric of her dress did not cover, but lavishly display her smooth curves—and the light so clearly elucidated the shape and form of her bust, that Eve felt almost as if Felicity was wearing less than nothing at all. She bit her lip.
‘You . . . you know, I—I really—’
‘Don’t stop!’ Felicity cried, her hands leaping up and plastering themselves onto her warm, slick skin, her voice becoming slurred and squeaky.
Eve took a step backwards. Mistress Sapphira stood there, silent. She looked towards the crowd. All eyes were transfixed on her friend Felicity as her hands roamed, slid up and down her shoulders, neck, collar. With a strange detachment, she noticed a similar sweaty sheen on the audience members. Eyes and jaws hung wide open, gasps and moans escaping every few seconds. Unbuttoned blouses hung open, and nervous hands fiddled with skirts. Some were even less discreet. When she looked back at Felicity a moan slipped past her lips and her thighs clenched. Felicity’s dress straps hung lazily off her shoulders, and her bodice had been pulled down to where it was now just lightly cupping the base of her breasts. Grinning in sublime joy, her slick hands slipped over her firm flesh and palmed over nipples, suffocating her skin with a wonderful oily sheen. Eve had never wanted so badly as she did then. She whimpered and took a few shaky steps towards Felicity. ‘I—I’m so sorry, Fliss, I—I need you. I need it. Don’t be mad at me.’ Her creamy thighs offered no resistance as they were pushed apart, and both girls began to wriggle in delight as Eve pressed her face up against Felicity’s steaming sex and began to nuzzle her sweet pussy.
Mistress Sapphira, who had watched the scene unfold whist leaning against the apparatus, nodded approvingly. She stood up suddenly and walked to the centre of the stage. ‘A round of applause for Eve and Felicity!’
The sound of quiet mewls and moans from the hundreds of seats were drowned out as the audience erupted into cheers and gasps, a fair few of them shuffling for a more comfortable position in their seats as Felicity bucked obliviously on her stool.
Mistress Sapphira strode over to Chloe as she continued. ‘That was easy. Chloe here presented more of a puzzle. A phobia. A phobia of flying. Phobias are ugly things. Horrible, sticky, messy things to try to untangle. Not something that can ever be done cleanly—if only there was some other way!’ Her eyes glinted conspiratorially. ‘As it turned out, Chloe was a remarkably receptive individual. I suggested a twisted pleasure in exhibitionism, and I gradually eroded her notion of shame. As the suggestions took effect, she gradually began to wear more and shorter skirts, and Chloe began to realise heels were the only footwear worthy of her figure. If your husband has ever expressed confusion or even annoyance at spending obscene amounts of cash on pretty clothing—imagine Chloe’s boyfriend; or even Chloe herself, who didn’t even know why she was doing it.’
Mistress Sapphira’s monologue was being interrupted at regular intervals by a rabid whimper or cry from the other side of the stage, but she continued.
‘Keep it down, girls. Just for a little while. That’s it.’ She walked over to the writhing couple and drew the velvety curtain between them and the sleeping beauty.
‘I had never tried such a heavy handed strategy, and clever little Chloe here was so close to figuring something out. I had already made sure she trusted me totally, and all these odd changes got her all worked up and troubled. There was just one more step. I had made Chloe powerless to these new behaviours and urges she found within herself, but there was one more thing needed to complete the conditioning. Rise and shine, Chloe.’
Chloe lifted her head groggily, wincing from the lighting. Mistress’ hands cupped the sides of her face, making her unable to turn her head. ‘Huh?’
‘Chloe, let’s not beat around the bush here. It’s true you’ve experience a change in behaviour recently, isn’t it?’
Her eyes darted frantically as she nodded. ‘Y-yeah. I guess.’
‘And how has that made you feel?’
‘What? I don’t like it. I hate it. It doesn’t feel, uh, like me. I know it’s not right but I know I can trust you.’ she cried out helplessly. ‘Why do I have to behave like . . . like such a pervert? Look at me!’ She indicated to her bare skin.
Mistress Sapphira let out a throaty laugh. ‘My dear Chloe, always getting in a muddle. The problem is not the behaviour. It’s your reaction to the behaviour. I suspect there is still one more step in your conditioning. I only want you to be happy Chloe. Don’t you want to be happy?’
Chloe felt a rising panic. ‘Uh, yeah. I guess? Wait—’
‘Good. Remember what we talked about. This long project tries to free you from your inhibitions. First we dissolved them, to make way for a new, more exciting you. Then, we spiced you up with a much more fun personality. Now all we have to do is help you realise how much you enjoy this new personality.
Suddenly everything seemed to click together. Chloe had known it all along. ‘But I don’t—oh my God—it’s you, isn’t it? You’re doing it on purpose. You’re the reason I . . . I feel so powerless . . . and I can’t remember anymore—and why I’m always acting like such a . . . a pervert! You’re turning me into a slave! You . . . you . . .’
‘That’s right, Chloe. Take all those negative feelings, purge them from your unhappy mind. Very good. Good Girl.’
‘I’m not purging them! Stop it. I don’t want to—I don’t . . .’
‘It’s so liberating to be the new Chloe. It feels so nice to—’
‘No it’s not! Stop! Stop, you—you’re scaring me! Oh, Don’t . . . don’t make me . . . make me want it . . .’
‘Good Girl. Don’t looks so terrified. The less clothing you wear, the happier you feel. You know it to be true. Good Girl.’
‘Yes, honey. All these natural feelings . . .’ she winked at the audience. ‘. . . you have to learn to embrace them. Enjoy them. Relish in them. That’s right.’
Chloe made a small garbled noise and her eyes rolled into the back of her head.
‘Good Girl. Don’t worry, take all the time you need. You’ll soon realise your problems just . . . dissipate. It feels better this way. You can trust me. Your inner beauty has been revealed, honey, and the best thing to do is just to enjoy it. Can you do that for me?’
Chloe trembled. ‘I don’t . . . I don’t . . .’
‘You don’t have a choice. I don’t want to pull you, kicking and screaming, into your new life. Don’t you understand that?’
‘I—I don’t understand . . .’
‘Of course you don’t. But you don’t have to. We’ve come so far from the poor, confused little girl who came into my office those weeks ago. But look at you now! A confident, sexy, liberated woman. You love your body, and you love your mistress. Isn’t that right?’
Chloe whimpered. She knew it was the truth. ‘Y-yeah, but—but I . . .’
Her eyes were fixed in front of her, staring blindly into hell. Members of the audience were touching themselves openly, or touching each other. Couples rutted on the seats, and clothes hung off chairs or were strewn around the floor. The air was hot and musky. Suddenly there was a buzzing beside her. Then a voice. ‘Who are you?’
The voice was small and tinny, and she could only hear it in one ear. Nevertheless, Chloe could feel the anger rising, even if she couldn’t quite make out the words.
‘What? I . . . I don’t know. Please don’t be angry.’ Something was terribly wrong.
The voice continued, but it was going too fast and saying too much, and Chloe just desperately wanted it to be over.
‘Stop it! Please. Stop talking to me. Go away.’
A crushing guilt began to close in on Chloe. ‘Wait. I didn’t mean it. Please, don’t be—’
There was suddenly a new voice. ‘Ouch. Chloe, you can be a very silly girl sometimes. But I’d never have thought you could be so cruel.’
Chloe’s head was spinning. ‘Wh-what? What did I just do?’
‘If you ask me, not recognising your own boyfriend is a damn good indicator of the strength of a relationship. Wouldn’t you say the same?’
Chloe wailed as tears began to stream down her face. ‘Oh God, please, I . . . what have I done I need to call him . . .’
‘What? You just broke up with him, girl. I love you, Chloe, but you can’t do this to yourself. You clearly didn’t like him.’
A dark feeling of remorse and self-loathing had taken hold of Chloe, but as she listened to Mistress Sapphira’s words, she found herself agreeing with them. She couldn’t even remember her boyfriend, or what he looked like. She couldn’t have liked him that much. But she should still feel bad about it. After all, she could have at least let him down gently. ‘Well, maybe. But . . .’ and as Chloe began to speak she realised that she didn’t know what to say, and then she realised she didn’t have anything to say at all. Was she really only speaking for speaking’s sake? If this was her resistance, then what did it count for?
‘I think you’re finally beginning to understand, sweetness. You could wallow in pity for a man you don’t even know. Perhaps you did something wrong, perhaps not. What does it matter? It cannot be helped. The sorrow you think you feel is merely an illusion. As you sit here, on the chair, it does not crush you and squeeze you and break you. It pulls you and tugs you and brings you down. You cannot remove it. You have just to let go.’
Chloe realised the truth in Mistress Sapphira’s words. It felt wrong to just ignore what she had done—but the feeling of ‘wrongness’ was exactly what was stopping her from—as Mistress Sapphira said—letting go! ‘I . . . I see what you mean.’
‘That’s my good little girl. Free yourself. There is no pride in standing against the tide. You have freed yourself, my darling, you have made your bed and now you want to stay up past your bedtime. It’s high time to leave all that behind you.’ Mistress Sapphira watched in satisfaction as Chloe nodded along to her tune. ‘This is your life now. This is your delight. Doesn’t it feel good to finally be you?’
Chloe nodded, a smile forming on her face. Where was the pain, the guilt, the shame? It was gone, and she was better for it. She wiped away the tears that welled up in her eyes.
‘You’re such a wonderful girl Chloe. You deserve to be happy. You love yourself, don’t you Chloe? Why don’t you show the audience how much you love yourself.’
Chloe beamed. ‘Like this?’ she asked as she began to rub the outside of her thin panties.
‘Exactly, my Good Girl.’
Mistress Sapphira walked to the centre of the stage as Chloe tugged her panties to the side and exposed her flushed, puffy pussy. ‘Some of you sceptics may be wondering what this has to do with helping Chloe with her fear of flying. The perceptive among you may have figured this out. Indeed the problem lay in the flying itself, not the phobia. So, removing the need or desire to fly, is in my book at least, just as good—and perhaps even sweeter—a recipe. Revealing to Chloe what really makes her happy, which is—what is it Chloe?’
Chloe’s frowning concentration instantly turned to a look of pure adoration. ‘Uh, ooh, being a Good Girl for Mistress, and—ah! Showing off my pussy!’
‘Exactly. Thank you, honey. Chloe will never need, or want to fly. Chloe just wants to do as her lovely Mistress will tell her. You have been a wonderful audience, and I hope you all learned something about Diversion Tactics!’
A few minutes after the curtain had fallen Mistress Sapphira went to fetch Chloe. After the show the girl had gone backstage, and Mistress Sapphira now found her giggling among a number of guests who were complimenting her on her performance.
‘Thank—ooh! Thank you so much, you’re very pretty!’
Mistress Sapphira made her way through the crowd. She saw that Chloe was entertaining a number of women who were taking turns stroking, kissing, and groping her.
‘My sincerest apologies, but I need to have a little world with Chloe.’
The women turned to look at her, removing their questing fingers from her skin.
‘Please, Mistress, I—ooh!’ She squealed as someone walking past slapped her bottom, ‘Just a little longer . . .’
‘You can come back later, I just need to sort of a few things out.’
Chloe looked around apologetically. She called out ‘Bye Lily!’ and trailed behind her Mistress. When they were far enough away she grinned naughtily. ‘Some of those women wanted to buy me or something. I think.’
Mistress Sapphira raised an eyebrow. ‘Mhm? And what did you say?’
‘That Mistress Sapphira owns me, but you can enjoy me for the time being.’
Mistress Sapphira nodded. ‘Good Girl.’ She stopped at a changing room door with a great blue sapphire painted onto it. She unlocked the door and sat herself on the table, spreading her legs as she shook back her hair. ‘Close the door will you, Chloe? Great. Now come over here, my cunt is desperate!’
Chloe bent down and unclipped the brilliantly blue leotard of her Mistress, popping free her hairless pussy. As she began to lick and nuzzle, Mistress cooed and groaned in pleasure.
A knock at the door, followed by giggling.
Mistress sighed. ‘Come in!’
The door burst open to Eve and Felicity, hair dishevelled and eyes gleaming. Felicity’s oily bare breasts firmly thrust out from her chest, her dress still pulled down to her waist.
Mistress tutted. ‘Is there a reason for this interruption?’
Eve giggled. ‘You were right. I really like eating pussy. Especially Felicity’s.’
Mistress Sapphira rolled her eyes. ‘I already knew that.’
‘But we’re running out of oil.’ Felicity continued, showing an almost empty bottle. ‘And I think I might go a bit funny if I stop having oil. I might not want Eve eating my pussy anymore, but I really like it.’
Mistress Sapphira sighed and rummaged around on the table before chucking the pair a clear bottle of coconut oil. ‘Knock yourselves out.’
The pair gasped and began to scamper out of the room.
‘Hey! Come back here, or no more oil. Good. Now I want at least five orgasms before dinner, or no more pussy for either of you! Understood?’
The two girls grinned and nodded.
Mistress Sapphira laughed throatily and flexed her toes in pleasure. She stroked her hands through Chloe’s hair. ‘Wonderful. Good Girls.’