We waved our respective husbands goodbye on their business trip together and my heart was pounding. Standing, I could smell the warmth of her perfume, I watched the movement of her body and the caress of her hair surreptitiously. I wanted to touch her, be touched by her. I was horny. I was reluctantly becoming used to having to do whatever Susan asked of me again. It scared me, but it also excited me a little more every time Susan asked me to do something.

We had never spent a night together before this. Now we had the prospect of nights and days. Susan had known about the trip before me and she had invited me, via our husbands, to stay with her at her home while they were away. Andrew and John thought it was a wonderful idea. I was terrified but I also knew I was deeply excited by the idea. What would she expect of me? I had sat at home trembling as time passed, by the thought of what Susan might ask me to do. It could be something really nice, but at the same time I was utterly terrified by the prospect of her dominance. It left me so vulnerable in my desire for her.

The men went through into the passenger’s section at the air terminal and disappeared. Susan turned and looked into my eyes. I felt my girlish blushes as she kissed my lips so tenderly in that public place. It still surprised me that after only a slight hesitation I returned her kiss. My vagina pulsed and I nearly swooned there and then. Her lips seemed to be playing with mine for the short time the kiss lasted. My eyes were still closed as she pulled away from the passionate but brief kiss. She smiled at me as I leaned forward trying to maintain the kiss.

Feeling foolish I felt a fresh rush of embarrassment and blood to my face as I knew my response to her and the knowledge of the public place kicked in. My mouth opened and closed after the separation. Two women kissing in public. They could have been long lost friends meeting again after a long parting, but not like this kiss, this was a lovers kiss. If I had seen two other women kissing as we kissed I knew that I would have presumed something other than friendship, if others had seen me they would have been correct.

The airport bar was dark and half full. We sat on leather seats in a corner with our glasses of wine. Susan unashamedly inspected me, and I felt it. It made me blush, I couldn’t stop the blushing. Sitting, the leather chair was cool, and it stuck to my legs. Normally I hardly ever wore a dress I realised. She had made me dress me in nothing but a simple tank dress, buttoning all the way down the front, made of a purple silk, which seemed to whisper as I moved. She had told me skirts or dresses unless told otherwise. She liked my legs, I wasn’t that impressed, but she told me that she did, so I did as I was bid. I had forgotten how uncomfortable it was to keep pulling it down and be sitting carefully. I was distracted and self-conscious by the sight of my thighs. I was also fidgeting as my knickers were becoming uncomfortably damp.

My initial fears had been quite simply over-ruled by Susan once she had dominated me the time we met again. Meeting my ex-teacher again. A teacher who I had submitted to lovingly, sexually, submissively. I wanted her as much, if not more, than when I was her pupil. I felt her pupil still. I had willingly given myself to her as a frustrated school student.

Over the following years I had constantly remembered and fantasised about our feverishly heated sex, my desperate submission, her easy dominance of me, even when doing the most trivial things. It embarrassed me now what she had me do for her at times. It excited me too, I reluctantly admitted to myself. I had wanted to please her. I remembered how easily I had accepted she wanted and expected me naked in private, wanted her fingers on me and even in me in public places. I had wanted to show her that I would do anything for her even if she had me act like a slut. Over the years I had ached for those times, my body throbbing and lubricating freely because of her and what I had done for her. I was petrified that she would just see me as I was then, an easily led kid with a crush. Ten years older now, married now.

She must know I couldn’t possibly do all that now, but I felt things were falling apart since I met her again, since she had taken me again. I could not get Susan out of my mind.

I hadn’t been able to sleep properly for nights after giving myself to Susan again. I had expected her to get in touch immediately but she hadn’t and it left me in frantic turmoil. Eventually, as I was doing some ironing, she had phoned.

“Hello my pet.”

“Hello Susan.” Suddenly breathless.

“Excuse me? Is someone there?” Sharp. “If there isn’t, what do you call me?”

“No. Oh sorry, I am alone. Sorry. Hello Mistress. I am sorry, I didn’t know if I should or not.” Feeling like a silly little girl.

“Of course you should unless there is a very good reason. Don’t ever forget. I am sure you’ll be a good girl from now on wont you? After all you told me you wanted me to own your slutty little self again, didn’t you?”

“Yes Mistress.” My face had been hot with embarrassment as I had stood holding the phone. My bra tight and my pussy twitching.

“What are you doing? Are you alone, I gather you are?”

“Yes Mistress, I am alone in the house, Andrew’s at work. I was doing the ironing.”

“Well turn it off now.” I had done as I was told and waited. “I want you naked now my little slut, do you hear? You like being naked for me don’t you slut? You did when you came over with your husband and he left you with me, didn’t you? Describe what you are doing as you undress.”

“Here Mistress?”

“Oh yes. Don’t argue my sweet sub, just strip that body of yours.”

“Yes. Yes Mistress.” Oh God. I had pictured myself undressing for her that last time. Was I really going to do this? I stood shaking, breathing heavily. “Yes.” Giving in to her. Giving in to myself. She knew me too well. My body had shivered at the thought of obeying her.

I took my clothes off. Described my movements and the articles of clothing. It hadn’t been easy with one hand holding the phone. She made me take everything off even though it was really embarrassing doing it. Though no one could see in the windows it had still felt so wicked and frightening being naked at a time like this and especially being commanded to do so. She had correctly guessed that my face was burning and my nipples were hard. Eventually I admitted I was kicking off my jeans and knickers. My clothes were strewn across the carpet. My nipples had hardened with the cold and that something else. My body throbbed as I stood naked, holding the phone, my other arm around my waist. I had wanted to touch myself but was scared to just yet. I had become so quickly aroused it had scared me.

“Did you play with yourself after leaving me at the weekend subby?” As if reading my mind.

“Yes, yes Mistress. It excited me.”

“I’ll let this go for now slut but in future I will determine, your playing, your orgasms. Is that clear?”

“Yes Mistress. Thank you. I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

“Its alright little one. I know that you didn’t know. Do you think it is correct, that I should have that control, my sweet slut? Is that what you would like too?” Her voice had done strange things to my stomach.

“Yes Mistress.”

“Tell me that is what you want then, ask for it nicely.” I had closed my eyes and stood there naked. Inside, my vagina had pulsed, my breathing had been laboured and I had been reduced to her horny little girl again by what she made me do. So horny and so humiliating it being within her control.

“Please Mistress, please tell me when I can play with myself or orgasm. I would like that Mistress. It will make them special and make me realise what I am.”

“And what is that dear?”

“Yours… your slut Mistress. Your… sub, your horny… your horny little subslut that you can do with as you will. Oh God.”

“And does that knowledge both shame and excite you my love?”

“Oh yes. Oh yes, Mistress.” A whimper.

I was told to play with my breasts. Both softly and roughly, squeeze my nipples until they hurt, pull them and all the time describe to her how it had felt, describe the redness of the marks I had left and what I had been doing for her. For her. For her. My nipples ached and I had been so aware of my vagina throbbing inside me and pulses of liquids lubricating me.

“Are you hot for me my little girl?”

“Oh God yes Mistress.” I had so clearly heard the need in my voice. It humiliated, it excited. “Very hot for you.”

“Do you want to finger your hot slit for me Emma slut?”

“Oh yes please Mistress”

“What is it, that word for your pussy that you find so embarrassing my sweet?”

“My cunt, Mistress.” I had croaked the words out. I had felt sweat under my arms.

“Well finger your hot cunt nicely as though it was me doing it to you. But don’t you dare cum yet.”

“Oh no, I won’t Mistress.” Then I had groaned as my fingers had slid over my clit and between my lips. I hadn’t realised how wet I had become. I slid inside myself and circled my clit over and over described what I had been doing. Admitted I was fingering myself because I had been told to, that I was doing it for her. I had never became this horny doing it alone. My legs had splayed lewdly to give myself even easier and lewder access. She had made me hold the phone next to my pussy so that she could hear the squidshy sounds of my lubrication and my fingers. I died of shame, I nearly came, only suddenly remembering that I hadn’t supposed to.

“Oh, oh Mistress. I nearly came.” Panting.

“Do you want to cum my little bitch?”

“Oh yes please. Please.”

“Put your fingers in your mouth and listen then.” I did, sucking hungrily at my juices. So aware of the taste of my juices. “I want you to stay naked for me until I tell you to dress. I will call and allow you to cum if you have been good for me, but you have to wait. Do you understand?”

“Yes Mistress. But please….” The phone had gone dead.

“You’re wet aren’t you Emma?” Reality now, in the bar.

“Yes.” It just popped out. Furious with myself at my admission. Did she know what I had been thinking? Could she smell me? Her hand slid over my cheek and I leant my face against her as a tear filled each eye. Her finger moved to my mouth and played along my lips causing me to open unaware of my action. A finger slid within and I suckled on it. It felt so humiliating and submissive sucking on that long finger deep within my mouth. Sucking her finger. Mouth opened. Her inside me. So sexual. Obviously submissive. Not sure why I was so turned on. Crossed my legs, a ripple of pleasure shoot through my body. Not remembering ever being this turned on as an adult by the anticipation, of the promise. I felt like a schoolgirl on a date. My vagina pulsed wetly. The finger left me. My mouth attempted to follow it. Feeling slightly foolish, not in control. Was I ever with her? She kissed me again. After the parting of our lips. My chest tight. Breath coming in gasps. She was still so near to me. Peppermints on her breath, eyes like cuffs, holding me.

“Remember our days in the past. I will have you naked for me soon.” I could feel the breath in my throat as my chest tensed with excitement. “You’ll like that wont you?”

I didn’t want to answer. I wanted to say no, that I just wanted her loving, just wanted to be loved by her. Instead my mouth whispered, “Yes.” Thinking of displaying my nakedness for her, displaying my submissiveness.

“Emma, you really are an exhibitionist slut aren’t you?” She laughed the words though I blushed yet again and hung my head in shame. “Look at me. Tell me you liked being naked for me.”

Looking at her, the feeling of helplessness like tendrils around my body. My eyes watery, my throat tight. . She continued to look at me. Making me speak. My voice quivering, “Yes… Yes I do.”

“Why did you like being naked Emma?”

“I knew it pleased you even though it was wicked. It… made me feel… exposed and vulnerable, knowing… you… had control. It made me feel easy…. like a slut.”

“You are. Such an easy slut too. You are always so wet when you are naked for me. Just think of displaying those tits and cunt of yours to me again. It makes you wet doesn’t it? Makes you feel like a slut doesn’t it? Makes you know you are my slut again doesn’t it?”

Looking away, looking down, feeling her eyes on me. Eventually I whispered “Yes.” I wanted to hide. Wanted to be held. I knew that when I stood naked for her she would find me wet again and know me. Know my real self. I realised suddenly that I had thought ‘when’ rather than ‘if’. I knew any control I had was slipping.

“You should call me Mistress shouldn’t you?” It felt like I had some control by not using her title. A vague notion of keeping a little bit of control. “I will forgive you this time, but remember in future. Or I will punish you again.” I remembered the way she had smacked my naked breast on our first meeting as adults. I remembered the hurt and the arousal. I shivered.

“Yes Mistress” I whispered.

“Have you been good for me little slut?”

“Yes Mistress.”

She phoned me every few days. If I was alone and at home she always made me strip so I was naked as I spoke to her. She wanted me to know my nakedness and feel submissive. On my mobile she made me find somewhere where I could touch myself. Oh it had been so easy to do as she had said. I had touched and played with my body. I was easy. I had cum if she allowed me to, been frustrated when it was refused. It was easy to slip into accepting her authority over whether I could give myself release. It kicked in even more arousal. It made me feel she owned my body, whose hands I was in.

For the last three days I had not been allowed to cum even though I had had to masturbate for her to hear every day. For her to hear my gasps and pleas. For her to hear the lewd wetness of my fingers in the river between my legs as I placed the receiver down there, for her to hear my moans of frustration. I had been obedient yet afterwards laughed at myself at the silliness of my obedience. I had become more and more in need of her.

“Did you do the two things I ordered you to do?” My face suddenly flared. Her voice did not hint at the enormity of her request. At first it hadn’t seemed much to me, but it had changed me, changed how I saw my relationships. On the surface it had been something that was normal and to be expected, but it turned out to be something very different indeed. She had told me to sleep with my husband. No, rather I was to be fucked by my husband. I had been surprised, but the act didn’t sink in then. My lesbian lover, my Mistress, was commanding me to sleep with my husband. It seemed bizarre.

“Yes. Yes Mistress. I mailed you.”

“I know. I read it. Tell me.”

Even as I had listened to her giving me the instructions I had not fully realised everything it had meant. In the middle of the night. No clothing. Make him hard if need be with my hands. No lights. On my knees from behind. Make him cum. Pretend my own climax. Not to cum under any circumstances. It hadn’t seemed much. Just an ordeal to go through for her. I ‘d do anything for her. I was obsessed by her, her control of me. Though I couldn’t in the life of me think why she would demand this of me.

I realised fully when I did it. I knew what I was. I was a whore. I was Susan’s whore. It could have been anyone. In the dark. Hot and ready and wet due to all the prior thought. My fingers finding his cock. Hard in his sleep. Felt his hard cock. Waking him. Not speaking. Kneeling for it. Kneeling to be fucked. Having to explain how I wanted him to take me. The heat searing my face in the dark. I had knelt like the bitch I was, pushing up my sex . A cock at my engorged lips, at my well lubricated opening. A cock sinking deep into my body easily. Feeling it more than usual. Wetter than usual. Full. A fucking. Just a fucking. Because I was told to. Ordered to. To fuck, on command.

I was a whore who knew her place and did as I was told. I had broken faith more by fucking Andrew than by fucking someone else. I had become a whore, not just an unfaithful wife, but a whore for my lover. Half asleep he rutted me. He took me fulfilling his own needs not fully realising the little things. In and out of me his cock had pushed and I had accepted it into my body. For her. After, I lay, my body still sensitive with use, his liquids dribbling from me, unable to sleep as I stewed in humiliation and unfulfilled lust. I knew when I woke the next day. I knew now. I knew when I had followed her instructions further and described exactly, in detail, what happened and why, then e-mailed it to her. I also knew it made me so wet. Susan had broken almost all my resistance.

Eventually I looked up at her. At her face, serene, perhaps looking a little amused or quizzically at me. “Yes Mistress, I whored myself for you.”

“Did you cum?”

“No Mistress.”

“Did you want to cum?”

“Yes Mistress.”

“Because of him?”

“No.” No it wasn’t the physical part, nor was it Andrew. Though I had liked being filled, used. It was something quite different. Doing sexually as I was told to do. Being a sexual plaything for her. Pleasing her. “Because of you.” I felt her hand caress my cheek and my eyes closed. She knew. I hoped my dress hadn’t a wet patch on it. She kissed me again and I tasted her lipstick.

“And you’ve done the little task for me?”

She had wanted me to do something that showed I was hers. Just a little thing she said. Have my nipples pierced, have a tattoo saying I was owned, or go and have my pubic hair removed. God! Just a little thing. I couldn’t do the others so I gave in to being waxed. My pubes. It was shocking. I remember not quite believing her as she told me, as I listened to the words. All of my hair there. I think really she knew I couldn’t do the others, that she just wanted me to accept that I would do it.

I had done as I was told yesterday. It was so embarrassing. Surprisingly the woman didn’t bat an eyelid, simply carried on gossiping about nothing, telling me how popular it had become that summer. But for me, I knew why I was there. I knew who had made me. I knew that I was doing her bidding. As she removed it I was wet. The pain and discomfort were nothing to the humiliation I felt. I don’t know if she knew about my arousal but it was something I cannot imagine her missing even though she managed to do it by sliding the thong from one side to the other. Even though I hadn’t been undressed fully. Oh god I was so ashamed of my wetness and the plumpness of my labia. I couldn’t wait though to get home and touch my smooth skin. I drove straight home. Undressed quickly. I needed to touch it, myself, frig myself. That bulging flesh was pink and blotchy but I knew it would go as would the slight stinging. It felt wonderful. But the smoothness was wonderful. I looked at myself in the mirror. Looking like a cross between an innocent child and an easy slut. I had decided I would tell Andrew that the doctor had recommended it for thrush.

“Yes.” I hung my head but she lifted my chin with a finger and raised her eyebrows. “Yes. My pussy is bald for you.”

“Is it nice?”

“Yes . It feels so smooth.” I couldn’t forget my baldness down there. I always seemed aware of it.

“Good. I will see for myself soon, wont I? But you forgot the Mistress.” She took out a small box. “For your jewellery. Everything.” I wore little jewellery. My wedding and engagement rings and earrings. That was all. I passed them over and she put the box away in her handbag. It seemed so easy to pass my rings over somehow.

We finished our drinks and with Susan’s perfume still in my nostrils we walked to the car park, my hand in hers as I had been instructed. Like a child, like a submissive, like a slut. Hers. It was hot in the morning sun as we approached the multi-storey car park car, cooler and darker within the open skeleton of the building. I opened the passenger door but was stilled before entering. I had my arms on the top of the door and roof. She moved around standing behind me. My pulse racing in anticipation. I hurriedly looked around. A family were getting into their car on the far side, a man pulling a case near the lift, no one near.