The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Stephanie jumped at the sharp three knocks that came from her door. She rushed to finish wiping down the counter, not wanting a single crumb or hair to remain. Her arms felt the fatigue of a full morning cleaning her small apartment, a nearly pointless effort given how pristine she always kept her home.

Tossing the towel into a drawer and out of sight, she reached over the counter and pulled out a bottle of red wine from the rack. Placing it on a small towel, she adjusted the cloth, making sure the edges were parallel with the edge of the surface it sat on. Opening the cupboard, Stephanie pulled out a single wide-rim wine glass, setting it next to the crimson bottle.

With a final glance, Stephanie inspected her surroundings. Nodding in satisfaction, she made her way to the door, stopping at the mirror to scrutinize over her appearance. She smoothed out her top and adjusted her pants. Bringing her hands up to her hair, she rearranged her ponytail, making sure it was perfectly centered and with the right amount of tightness, just the way Veronica liked it. With a nervous sigh and the heavy beating of her heart, she finally approached the entryway.

The door opened to reveal a woman in her mid-thirties. She stood with flawless posture in the middle of the door frame. Her expensive and immaculate business suit hugged her frame tightly, accentuating her disciplined figure. In her hands was a large box.

Stephanie’s eyes met with the woman before her. She observed the annoyed look on her face. Likely from having to hold the box for so long, Stephanie figured. “Sorry, I... sorry.” She knew better than to make excuses. Moving to the side, Stephanie extended her arm into the apartment. “Please come in.” She kept her eyes on the floor until the package was pushed in front of her.

“Put this on the counter,” Veronica commanded. She proceeded towards the couch in the living room with a determined gait. “And I’ll have that glass of wine now,” she added with a wave of her hand, not bothering to face Stephanie.

“Yes, ma’am,” the younger woman responded meekly.

Leaving the box on the counter, Stephanie walked around to pull out the bottle opener. She carefully removed the cork and poured a carefully-practiced amount of wine into the glass, making sure not to spill a single drop.

Veronica sat on the couch, her back straight, her right leg crossed over the left with practiced elegance, her hands delicately placed upon her thigh. She studied Stephanie’s every move as she approached, wine glass in hand. The seated woman accepted the proffered glass with her left hand, holding it as she continued to monitor Stephanie.

With her task complete, Stephanie stood still, her arms behind her back, her eyes once again downcast. She waited on Veronica. She could feel the woman’s eyes roaming over her body, her fiery gaze inflaming the skin beneath her clothes wherever it touched. From the edge of her vision, she could see Veronica bring the glass to her face. She waited as the woman swirled the wine within, listened as she took a whiff, and finally saw the glass approach her delicate lips.

“Flawless,” Veronica exclaimed after her first sip, though she wasn’t talking about the wine. “As always.” Her features relaxed as she stood up, placing the wine glass on the coffee table.

She approached Stephanie, outstretching her arms. “How have you been, my dear?”

Stephanie looked up, a smile forming on her face as she stared lovingly back, accepting the embrace. “I’ve been well, thank you,” she answered. She closed her eyes and focused on the feeling of Veronica pressed against her body. The sound of her breathing in her ear. The scent of her floral perfume wafting through her nose. She wished she could stay there forever, held by her old friend. Reluctantly, however, she pulled back.

Staring into Veronica’s deep green eyes, Stephanie asked, “and how is California?”

Veronica scoffed, gesturing towards the couch. “Sit, and we can both catch up on lost time.”

The two discussed their lives over the past three years. Listening to Veronica talk, Stephanie reminisced on their history together. They had met five years ago. Stephanie was just discovering the intricacies of her sexuality, of her particular... interests. In her efforts to find like-minded individuals, she came across an ad looking for submissive personalities. After days of debate, she finally decided to respond.

Over the next few months, she exchanged messages with Veronica, learning more about the woman. She learned what Veronica expected in a partner—obedience. Learned what she was willing to offer in return—control.

The day finally came when the two would meet up. Stephanie was so nervous. Veronica had told her almost exactly what to expect, but she was still uncertain. Was this what she truly wanted? What if she wasn’t good enough for Veronica? What if Veronica wasn’t like what she claimed to be? Despite her worries, Stephanie knew she had to at least try.

The first day was mostly uneventful, as the two tested the boundaries of their respective comfort zones. Veronica was careful to take things slowly, so as not to scare the inexperienced girl.

In time, Stephanie was taught so many things. Things about herself; who she was and what her desires were. Things about Veronica; how best to make her happy and pleasure her. The days spent with Veronica were the happiest moments in Stephanie’s life, but it all came crumbling down that fateful evening when Veronica said she was moving across the country. Her job required it. Veronica assured her there was nothing she could do.

For weeks, the girl was devastated. She had contemplated packing up and moving to be with Veronica, but in the end she couldn’t just uproot the life she had with her friends and family. Doing so would involve too many questions, questions that she was not willing to answer.

So Stephanie slowly learned to deal with it. She found the best way to cope was to live her life the way Veronica would have expected her to, as if the woman was there to direct her herself. She opted against trying to find someone else to take care of her. No one could replace Veronica, as far as she was concerned.

They still messaged each other, but Veronica’s replies slowly grew further and further apart. In the end, it had been two months since Stephanie had last heard from Veronica. While it still saddened her to think about it, she was finally feeling like she was moving on with her life.

While getting ready to go out to dinner with some friends earlier in the week, her phone had chimed. She read the e-mail. Her heart raced. Veronica was going to be in town for a few weeks. She wanted a weekend alone with Stephanie, and she promised a surprise. Stephanie responded with a simple, “Yes, ma’am.”

The rest of the week was a blur. She went to work, she talked to her friends, she did everything in her routine, but it was all on auto-pilot. Her time at home was spent preparing. Cleaning things that were already cleaned a few days in a row, making sure everything was perfect. She wanted Veronica to feel as though she had never left, feel as though she never should have left.

And then Veronica was at her door, and Stephanie’s heart melted, though she tried not to show it.

“You should know, you were the one person that made it the hardest for me to leave,” Veronica revealed. She watched as Stephanie fought to stay composed as her eyes began to tear up upon hearing it.

Stephanie knew that Veronica was seeing other people. It was explained early on in their relationship. While it didn’t always quite sit well with her, Stephanie eventually accepted it. Veronica was too important to her, and the issue seemed trivial in comparison. To hear Veronica all but say she was her favorite caused her heart to swell.

“Now now, I’ll allow these emotions for today, but starting tomorrow I expect you to act properly. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Stephanie beamed, as she leaned towards Veronica, her arm supporting her on the couch. “Though... you still haven’t told me what we’re doing tomorrow... if that’s okay for me to ask about,” she added quickly, almost forgetting her place.

Veronica’s eyes lit up at the prospect. “I suppose you deserve to know. I’m taking you to a fetish club,” she divulged. Then, with a seductive voice, she added, “as my pet.” Grinning from ear to ear, Veronica watched Stephanie like a predator eyeing its prey.

Stephanie was taken aback at the revelation. “B..but.. we’ve... I.. I’ve never done that in p-public before. I don’t know...” she began, but was cut off when Veronica glared at her sternly.

“Am I seeing disobedience in you?” Veronica questioned authoritatively. She glowered at Stephanie, watching the girl squirm before her.

Reacting to the accusation, Stephanie was quick to retreat into the couch as she responded with a soft but decisive, “No, ma’am.”

The response filled Veronica with pride. “Good girl,” she praised, as Stephanie squirmed a little. The older woman then noticed her partner glance at the forgotten box on the kitchen table. The grin returned to her face. “Come pet, and see the gift I brought you,” she commanded as she stood, approaching the kitchen counter. Stephanie padded behind her.

“Go ahead, open it up.” Veronica watched as Stephanie grabbed a knife from the drawer and began cutting at the tape sealing the box shut. As Stephanie continued her work, Veronica began enticing the girl about the contents. “A colleague of mine got his hands on a special product. Fetish clothing that he said would greatly enhance the experience of the wearer. Always cryptic, that one. I asked if he had anything for the two of us, and this is what he gave me. Inside should be a formal outfit for me, and a lovely maid outfit for you.”

Stephanie’s hand trembled slightly as she cut into the box. The excitement of what Veronica described was getting to her. She could already picture the two of them all dressed up. She imagined herself already at the club, surrounded by other people, all of them staring at her as she followed her mistress about.

With the tape finally cut, her attention was brought back to the box as she folded open the flaps of cardboard, revealing the treasures within.

Veronica’s hands stretched to grab the edge of the counter as she leaned forward, watching Stephanie remove the contents. Two sealed bags were produced, as well as two pairs of shiny black high heels. Veronica grabbed the bag closest to her, turning it around and inspecting the packaging.

“Doesn’t seem to be any indication of which outfit is in which bag,” Veronica noted, frowning. Handing the bag in her hand to Stephanie, she added, “Open this one. I’ll open the other.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Stephanie replied, gently taking the bag that was handed to her. She grabbed the knife, taking her time to carefully open the packaging, not wanting to damage the contents in any way.

Meanwhile, Veronica claimed the other bag, hastily tearing into it with her nails, and quickly reaching in to pull out the outfit within. As her hand grabbed at the shiny black material, a sudden warmth spread up her arm, radiating throughout her body. Her attempts to remove the fabric ceased as she was caught off guard at the onset of pleasure. Her eyes closed as her body mildly shivered. Her thumb absentmindedly began caressing the silky fabric in her hand.

As quickly as the pleasure arrived, the experience ended. She continued to remove the fabric, as her body ever so slightly relaxed from her usual posture. She glanced up just in time to see Stephanie reach into her bag.

Just as with Veronica, as soon as Stephanie’s skin touched the fabric, the same pleasure coursed through her body. She shook slightly as her eyes closed, and Veronica could swear she heard the girl moan quietly. She stared at the girl inquisitively.

When Stephanie opened her eyes, Veronica asked what had just happened to her. With a confused look, Stephanie could only respond with, “what do you mean?” Every other attempt for an explanation of Stephanie’s reaction was only met with the same incredulity. Giving up on the topic, the older woman returned to the outfit in her hand.

Wrapped as they were, Veronica was still unable to ascertain which outfit she was holding. She began to unfold the material, Stephanie doing the same in turn. It wasn’t until she saw the white bonnet be uncovered that her question was answered. “Guess I got yours. Trade?” she asked of Stephanie. She looked up to see Stephanie staring back at her, the woman’s posture more striking than usual.

Stephanie looked down at the outfit that cascaded over Veronica’s hands, and then at the one she held in her own. She made to swap the two, except her arms didn’t actually move. She wanted to obey Veronica, and part of her worried that the woman was going to get mad at her. Yet when she looked at the other woman, it wasn’t anger she saw. It wasn’t annoyance, either. Instead, she saw concern. She saw conflict.

Stephanie had never seen that expression on Veronica before. She should have been worried. Perhaps something was wrong. Yet there was a tiny voice in her mind that she heard whispering to her. A voice that was whispering that this was right. This was how things were supposed to be.

Veronica saw Stephanie’s hesitation. Was the girl disobeying her? Even in the beginning the younger girl had never really shown any resistance. Yet now the girl looked irritated. Veronica had only ordered Stephanie to trade the outfits—they were mixed up after all.

Is that what happened though? Maybe she only asked Stephanie to trade. But why would she be doing that? She was Stephanie’s mistress, right? If she was Stephanie’s mistress, she wouldn’t request something of her slave, she would command it. Veronica tried to think back on what she had said, but the memory felt hazy and far away. Her efforts to imagine herself being commanding started to feel off.

Stephanie finally broke the silence between the two when she said with a quiet, uncertain voice: “Put it on.” She stared Veronica directly in the eyes afterwards, the other woman staring back, shocked.

Veronica glanced back at the material in her hands. She felt a warmth where it touched her skin. She had never worn such an outfit before. It was fine for others, but not for her. She would never dare to. Despite this, she couldn’t help but visualize what she would look like wearing the very maid uniform she was began clutching to her chest. Her eyes were on the table as her imagination began to sweep her away. She saw herself encased in latex. She was kneeling. Her hands laid on her thighs, palms facing upward. She was vulnerable. She was... obedient.

There was someone standing before her. She shouldn’t look up, but she had to. Veronica had to know who owned her. She was looking at the woman’s feet. Her eyes traveled upward, along the woman’s legs that were wrapped in latex so shiny she could almost see herself in them, yet so dark she felt like she could be sucked right in. Farther up, the woman’s hips came into view. The latex so tight, so flatteringly form fitting. Veronica could only describe it as perfection. Higher still, she stared at the waist of the jacket that hugged the woman’s torso so properly, accentuating her body so dramatically. Traveling upwards, Veronica saw the woman’s arms, folded below her chest, her tits almost spilling over them. The woman’s fiery red hair cascading over her shoulders, framing her face. Finally, Veronica stared into the deep brown eyes of.. Stephanie?

Veronica shook her head. This wasn’t right. This outfit was meant for Stephanie. Stephanie should be the one on her knees before her. Stephanie should have been the one that was afraid to look up. Her hands now kneading the latex that was held to her chest, Veronica was determined to regain control. She wasn’t some meek woman to kowtow to another. She just had to look back at Stephanie and assert her dominance once more.

Veronica finally glanced up, and cowered at the scowl on Stephanie’s face.

Stephanie had been watching Veronica the entire time. Where she once felt reverence, she now felt superiority. She had watched Veronica struggle, and it only angered her. Had she not given the woman a command? Was she not deserving of respect? Of admiration? Most importantly, was she not owed obedience?

Stephanie grew tired of Veronica’s struggling. Something within her broke free, as she snapped at the hesitant woman. “Now, slave!” She watched Veronica jump. A shrinking part of her screamed back, but Stephanie ignored that voice. She was the one in control now. When Veronica only nodded her head, Stephanie let loose again. “You will speak when you are spoken to, understand?”

“Y-yes..”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, mistress.”

Both women shivered at the word.

Veronica placed the outfit back on the table, unfolding it completely. She stared at the garments. Before her was a long-sleeved low-cut black latex shirt, a loose pleated skirt, a pair of latex panties, two thigh-high stockings, a white apron, and a bonnet. She wasn’t sure where to start. She looked up at Stephanie pleadingly.

“Undress first, slave,” Stephanie commanded in a tone that implied it was obvious. The command seemed to vibrate through Veronica’s body, causing her to tense in surprise.

“Yes, mistress,” the obsequious woman responded. She began taking off her jacket, draping it gently over the back of the chair to her right. She followed with her shirt, then her pants, and finally her socks. Each item was folded carefully and placed upon the seat of the same chair as the jacket. She reached for the latex shirt first.

“Forgetting something?” Stephanie questioned with an exasperated sigh.

Veronica glanced up at Stephanie, but then quickly averted her eyes. “No, mistress. Sorry, mistress.” She proceeded to remove her bra, adding it to the pile. Hooking her thumbs under the band of her panties, she brought the fabric down, before pulling out first one foot, then the other. She straightened back up, and began placing the last article of clothing with the others.

“Ah ah, hand those over.” Stephanie held her hand out towards Veronica. When the older woman gave her expected response and placed the underwear in Stephanie’s hands, Stephanie grabbed the knife that was on the counter, cutting the band of the fabric. “You won’t be needing these anymore,” She proclaimed as she proceeded towards the garbage can to toss them away. “Continue.”

Veronica grabbed the latex undergarment first. She held it in her hands momentarily, before finally bringing them down to place her feet through the opening, afraid that if she stopped moving Stephanie would yell at her again. The fabric glided easily across her bare skin as it traveled upwards, eliciting a pleasurable gasp. The sensation was almost enough to distract her from continuing, but she persisted on. The moment the article was in place, sensually pressing against her womanhood, Veronica let out a deep moan as she closed her eyes, her arms outstretched along the counter, supporting her weight.

Stephanie grinned at her. “The leggings, next,” she demanded. Another tremor jolted her, this time stronger than the one from her previous instruction.

The command shot another short spike of arousal through Veronica as the pleasure from before slowly subsided. “Yes, mistress.” She reached for one stocking, lowering it to the ground. She positioned her foot once again at the opening, and began raising the material. The latex glided effortlessly up her thigh, putting ecstatic pressure on all sides of her legs. Veronica struggled to maintain her balance on her one foot as her skin tingled, almost falling over as she caught herself by her elbow on the counter.

With one stocking in place, Veronica proceeded with the other one. The same movement, causing the same pleasure on her skin. As soon as both legs were fully covered to the extent the stockings would allow, another surge of pleasure shot through her, more intense than the last. This time Veronica was more prepared, and she simply indulged in the sensation. She had to keep going.

With more haste, Veronica grabbed the shirt, quickly raising it above her head and onto her arms. She felt the pleasure of the fabric as it crossed her skin, but was no longer interested in lingering on these lesser sensations. The skirt followed suit, both items ending with the same blissful result as the others. Veronica was acting on auto-pilot as she finished with the apron and the bonnet.

As soon as the bonnet was firmly affixed to her head, Veronica’s mind shut down entirely, save for the constant roar of an orgasm that tore through her. Her body stood still, her eyes downcast, unseeing.

Stephanie watched Veronica as a sense of fulfillment overcame her. Each time Veronica had finished with a piece of clothing, Stephanie had commanded her which to put on next. Each time, Veronica responded with the same two words, almost unconsciously. Each command sent another shiver through Stephanie’s body. And now there Veronica was, standing in front of her, waiting for another command.

Except that wouldn’t do, her slave didn’t deserve to be standing. Stephanie made her way around the counter, still carrying her own outfit in her hands. She approached Veronica, stopping by her side. With one hand, Stephanie pointed to the ground. With a “Yes, mistress,” Veronica kneeled before her.

The kneeling woman was ready. Now it was Stephanie’s turn. She had to be the best mistress she could be for her new slave, so she had to prepare herself for the part. It didn’t matter that she had never been dominant before, never been assertive. She knew what she had to do. Better yet, she knew what Veronica had to do. “Undress me, slave.”

“Yes, mistress,” Veronica intoned. She stood up as Stephanie placed her outfit on the table. With dutiful care, Veronica unfastened her mistress’ pants, pulling the garment downwards. When Stephanie stepped out of them, Veronica proceeded to fold the pants neatly and efficiently, placing them on the other chair. She progressed through Stephanie’s remaining clothes, handling each item with the same attentiveness, until nothing remained to cover her skin. Veronica returned to her kneeling position.

Stephanie stood confidently, towering over Veronica. She took a moment to admire the woman’s subjugation. Her body covered in that perfect material. She wanted to conquer her—to own her, but she knew she wasn’t quite ready yet.

The nude woman allowed herself a moment to reflect on what had transpired, on how much Veronica had changed. The once indomitable will of the woman kneeling before her, now nothing more than a toy for her to have her way with.

Stephanie paused at that thought. What had caused that change? Why had their roles reversed? Stephanie still had her memories of how she was before, as much as she cringed at them now. Where had this sudden preeminence come from? And her slave... no, Veronica... how had Veronica gone from the domineering woman she was to the docile thing at her feet?

Stephanie shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. It all seemed to start when they opened the package, she realized. She turned toward her outfit on the counter, eyeing it suspiciously. Part of her wanted to reach out and grab the garments, but the voice telling her not to was growing louder. She returned her gaze to her partner, concern bubbling inside of her. Something was wrong, and she had to stop this. She reached down and grabbed Veronica by the shoulder.

As soon as she touched the material, a strong force shot up her arm and up to her head, clouding her mind. Her eyes unfocused as she stepped back. Turning to the counter, she thoughtlessly reached for her property. She grabbed the latex, bringing it to her chest, pressing it tight against her skin, as she once again felt the radiating pleasure. Her eyes regained their focus, as a grin appeared on her face. This is how things were to be. This is what she was entitled to.

“Help me dress, slave,” she ordered, finally ready to continue, her resistance all but forgotten. She handed her clothes to Veronica as the other woman vocalized her consent.

Veronica started with the socks. Still kneeling, she delicately covered Stephanie’s feet with the latex, the material slipping on with ease as it conformed to the shape, a perfect fit. Next came the shirt, as she stood up to bring it over Stephanie’s head, allowing her arms to fit through as she brought the material down around her chest, finally covering Stephanie’s stomach, the high neck reaching up to her jaw line. The shape of the material—the tightness—emphasized Stephanie’s tits in such a magnificent way. If Veronica was capable of thought she would have been drooling over them.

As each piece of latex was pulled into place, Stephanie felt the same rush of pleasure Veronica had felt in turn. She was in control, though. She relished the experience, but would not allow it to sway her.

Soon enough, the tight trousers covered her skin, pulled over the hem of the shirt, the line separating the two pieces almost invisible. She handed Veronica a pair of gloves, as the girl held them open for Stephanie to insert her hands.

Lastly, the jacket. With the single button holding it closed, Stephanie’s outfit was complete. She closed her eyes as a final outburst of ecstasy shot through every nerve of her body. She was able to maintain her composure, but just barely. As she came down from the bliss, Stephanie realized she had been pawing at her chest with her hand, the fleshy mound covered by two layers of black latex.

She felt decadent.

“Well done, slave,” Stephanie purred. She looked down to see Veronica had returned to a kneeling position, awaiting her next command. “Arise. Let me have a look at you.”

“Yes, mistress,” the woman repeated, her eyes still angled downwards as she assumed the position her mistress expected.

Stephanie inspected her property thoroughly. She adjusted her uniform as she saw fit. Eyes on every part of Veronica, Stephanie circled around, allowing her hand to trail over the older woman’s body. Stephanie raised Veronica’s arm, the other woman allowing her body to be positioned but otherwise remaining still and inexpressive as Stephanie studied her physique. She squeezed Veronica’s chest, observing how her tits bounced and jiggled from the attention before returning to their original impressive shape.

Stephanie forced the woman’s mouth open as she probed it with her fingers. “Suck,” she commanded. A muffled reply was all she heard as Veronica’s lips wrapped around her digits, Stephanie’s fingers being drawn in. With an audible pop, she removed her hand.

Stephanie reached down and grabbed the other woman by the ass, the latex-covered flesh spilling between her fingers. She drew her hand back and with as much force as she could muster brought it crashing down upon Veronica’s rump. She smiled at the ripples that shot out from the strike.

For her part, Veronica merely gave a small jump at the unexpected blow. No noise escaped her mouth, no visage of pain or discomfort crossed her face.

Satisfied at the object standing before her, Stephanie was ready to move on. With a sway of her hips, she crossed the room. Calling out behind her, she shouted, “follow me, slave.”

“Yes, mistress,” came the reply, as Veronica turned about and proceeded to the bedroom after her mistress. Her gait was rigid, lacking any sense of personality. Efficiency was the key for her. All that mattered was to carry out her objective. She didn’t need to think, so her brain didn’t bother doing so. Every sense of hers was ignored unless it was required to fulfill the task at hand.

Stephanie began arranging the pillows on the bed as Veronica entered the room, coming to a stop next to her. With elegance, she laid herself down, adjusting her legs towards the foot of the bed, her knees bent. She pointed to the area before her feet and gave her command: “kneel”.

With assent, Veronica climbed onto the bed, facing her mistress. She lowered herself until she was seated upon the back of her heels. She placed her hands in the customary position upon her thighs, and then waited.

Stephanie rejoiced in the control she held over her former mistress. She couldn’t imagine how things were allowed to be different before. Veronica clearly made a better slave than she ever was, and Stephanie was certainly a superior mistress. This was a fact to her, more true than any other belief she held, and it drove her wild. Ever since she had finished donning her attire, her pussy began aching with need. She could feel herself leaking onto the latex that contained her lust, a lust that she would satisfy on her own terms.

Stephanie reached down and took hold of the zipper located on her trousers. With a deliberate leisurely pace, she unzipped the pants, finally bringing her waiting pussy into view. With that task complete, Stephanie slowly opened her legs as she leaned back, resting her head delicately on the mountain of pillows behind her. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she gave her next instruction: “pleasure your mistress, slave.” The other woman’s response sent thrills across her skin.

Veronica leaned forward, placing her arms under her mistress’ legs for balance as she pressed her mouth against the woman’s opening. Extending her tongue, she gave her first long, slow lick along the lips.

The dominant woman moaned softly at the tongue that caressed her.

Veronica maintained the same steady pace of her ministrations, licking the folds in the same repetitive manner. When Stephanie realized this, she began ordering the woman every which way to bring her the most pleasure. Telling her to go faster, slower, deeper, harder, and every combination. Each command brought the same thrill as always, and every muffled response spoken into her crotch sent vibrations deep into her core.

Veronica became a frenzy of motion. She pressed her nose against her mistress’ clit, as her tongue dove into her slit with reckless abandon. She hadn’t been commanded to touch herself, but if she had been capable of conscious thought, Veronica would have been writhing from the pleasure of her obedience. The euphoria of being able to please her mistress. At the moment, though, all her movements were devoted to the small section of exposed flesh pressed against her face.

Stephanie gyrated against the tongue assaulting her. She pressed hard against Veronica’s face, trying to push the tongue deeper than it had already gone. She shouted more commands almost automatically. Her muscles were tense, as the pleasure rose higher and higher, like a tsunami rising up out of the ocean onto the shore, until the wave reached its apex and came crashing down with devastating destruction.

Her eyes shot open as her back arched, her mouth wide but with no sound escaping. Her right hand was gripping the sheets with such force, her knuckles went white from the strain. Her left hand holding Veronica by her tied-up hair, pressing the woman’s head against her crotch powerfully. Despite all this, Veronica kept licking, prolonging the raging storm in Stephanie.

Stephanie laid back on her bed as she came down from the intense orgasm. Her body occasionally spasmed at the continued attention on her folds. “That’s enough, slave,” she finally declared.

“Yes, mistress,” Veronica responded as she returned to her position.

Stephanie continued to relax on her back until the last bit of euphoria had diminished. After some time, she finally sat up to regard her pet. Grabbing her by the chin, she tilted Veronica’s head up to look her in the eyes, her own juices still slick on the girl’s face. “You did well, slave. You deserve to be rewarded. Cum hard now. Cum for your mistress!”

Veronica had begun to give her usual response, but was cut off as the orgasm shattered her mind and body, the words turning into gargles in her throat. She lost her balance, collapsing sideways on the bed, her legs kicking outward. She pressed her hand against her crotch, but didn’t dare to reach under the latex that covered her now-convulsing pussy. Didn’t dare to penetrate herself with her fingers. Her other hand mauled at her tits, as she writhed on the bed back and forth.

By the time the orgasm began to subside, Veronica had already began forcing herself back into position. She had to remain at attention, even while enduring such an onslaught of pleasure. Struggling to speak, she managed to proclaim her regret over losing her composure with a, “s-sorry... m-m-mistress.”

Stephanie simply laughed. When her former mistress had finally stopped twitching, she spoke up: “What do you say, slave?”

“Thank you, mistress,” Veronica answered, her voice still shaky.

“Good girl.” She caressed Veronica’s cheek lovingly. “Now go to the bathroom and grab a towel. Place it on the floor at the foot of the bed, that’s where you’ll be sleeping tonight. And no washing up. Understand slave?”

“Yes, mistress,” came her response, as Veronica got up to carry out her orders. She returned to find Stephanie resting luxuriously on the queen-size bed, eyes closed. The slave placed the towel on the floor, as she curled up on top of it and went to sleep almost instantly.