No Touching (18+ only)

My Sunday story is a long one, coming by way of apology for being so sporadic in my fiction posts over the last few weeks (although you’ll know why if you read my previous post!). After all the paranormal erotica I’ve been writing and reading in the last couple of months, I thought I’d write something very real. So, feel free to get just a little bit down and dirty with a Mistress, her boyfriend…and her slave-girl.

Happy reading! x


He was a few paces behind her as she stopped outside the door to her flat. His breath sounded hard, and she knew it wasn’t due to the two flights of stairs they’d just walked up. His flat was four floors up, and she had never seen him with anything but even breath on the numerous occasions he’d returned with a brown paper bag full of curry containers, having left her pouring vodka and coke, or wine, and trying to find the knives and forks amid the chaos that reigned in his kitchen drawers.

She turned to face him, one hand on the key in the door, the other hand stroking along the zip of his jeans with her nail. She knew the vibrations would travel through to the sensitive, hard muscle that strained at the denim. He looked flushed; it really wasn’t hot, as his jacket attested to, as did her belted coat, which was needed, even though she’d only come downstairs to greet him at the main door. Leaning forward, she brushed his nose with the tip of hers and tilted her head so that her lips rested near his ear.

“Are you absolutely sure you want to do this? It’ll be like I said, I promise. No touching the—.”

He kissed her, hard. To stop her saying the word. She knew it.

She felt the heat resonating from inside his jacket. It took her all her self-control not to rip it down over his arms where they stood, so she could get to work on biting off his shirt buttons and licking and nibbling all the way down, from his throat to his belt. His throat made a kind of glugging sound, and he nodded.

“Tell me in words. Let me know you mean it.” A nod wasn’t good enough. She wanted to be sure he was still curious enough to come in.

“Yeah. Just let me come in with you. Get me through that door, before I burst through my flies, will you?” She knew what he meant – his cock was digging firmly into her hipbone, and it turned her on so much, especially considering what she was wearing underneath her coat.

“When we go in, follow me into the bedroom. There will be someone else in there, but don’t let that worry you. You’ll see plenty of her tonight.”

She watched that unnerved look spread across his face. “Is she your…your…?”

“Slave-girl? You can say it. It’s fine. Yes. She’s called—”

“I don’t want to know. Not—right now.”

She tried to keep her own breathing even as she led them into the hallway. She would soon know – know if he was able to handle it. She kept her eyes firmly on him as she slipped off his jacket, taking her time, hanging it up before slipping off her coat to reveal a black corset. It pushed up the bottoms of her breasts and laced in a line from the valley between them to just below her navel. The only other thing she wore were black sheer stockings. She watched his eyes bolt wide open and take her in; listened to the gasp as it sunk into his head that she wasn’t wearing panties. She closed her eyes as the coolness of his fingertips slipped into her pink folds, revelling in the contrast of temperature. She tightened, thrusting herself into his fingers, gentle moans leaving her lips as he pushed two fingers inside her. Cold fingers always made her wet instantaneously, as he was just discovering. Steadying his nerves. Anything to keep him wanting more.

She led him into the bedroom, straight towards the bed, but she couldn’t prevent him from looking round and spotting the girl, sitting demurely on the corner chair, her collar around her neck with the chain clipped on, its length laid across her palm and tied all the way over at the bedpost, just as she’d been instructed on the phone. She smiled. What a good girl Pet was.

She watched him licking his lips, trying to stop his tongue sticking to the back of his throat. She took his hand, noting the quiver that was running through it, and placed it back where it had been before, letting him concentrate on the wetness he had caused while she undid his shirt, sliding her hand inside and feeling her way down to the rest of his clothes. She trailed kisses around his ear and over his cheek while she expertly ridded him of the remainder of his clothes. His cock had rested itself in her palm, his concern showing clearly in his semi-flaccid state. She felt her way around his ridge, rolling her thumb over the tip of his cockhead. As he began to harden, she took hold of his shaft and began to stroke, nice and slow, watching his breathing getting stronger, deeper. He swelled beautifully for her. When she felt beads of pre-cum forming she scooped them off and stared him straight in the eye, her finger entering her open lips, her tongue scooping them up and swallowing their deliciousness.

“Do you want to watch?” She looked at him with a passion that burned into his very core as she whispered the words. His cock, gripped in the palm of her hand, jumped at her eye contact. His answer returned:

“No, I want you.”

The heat of his breath brushed against her ear. The words – too forceful. But he hadn’t demanded to leave, so it was a start. But he went almost flaccid in next to no time. She had to keep control; keep calm.

She smiled at him. Barely audible, she whispered. “Patience.” In a much more public voice, she uttered, “Well, I want to see,” She untied the chain from the bedpost and reeled in the slender nakedness of the young woman, so he could see how she made eye contact with Pet, and the unfaltering, adoring gaze of her slave in return. How she wished she could watch his face, too. To take her cue. Her fingers hooked under the leather collar around the slave’s neck, and she drew her in until only a hairsbreadth separated their lips. She caught the sound of the hoarse gasp that came from where he sat.

“Take that other chair, girl. The one by the wall. Sit down and straddle your legs over the arms. I’ve decided I want this Dom to fuck me.” She sensed him shuffling a little. The word was maybe a bit much for him, really, at this time, but it was how she wanted him to feel. Not below her—unless that’s what she craved. And she knew from experience already that he loved that as much as she did. “I want to watch you make yourself come while I’m fucking.”

She gave a quick smile to Pet, brought her lips to brush the young woman’s, then kissed her hard, watching his face. His eyes stared and, squeezing, she felt a motion in his cock, losing its fear of being in the room, maybe. Or just enjoying two women snogging, one of them naked, just as he was, and just as she was between her black corset and her stockings. She placed her lips into Pet’s ear. “Don’t worry. You’ve done nothing wrong. You’re a good girl. Just follow my instructions, and I’ll be very pleased with you. No punishment.”

The look in the slave-girl’s eyes went from anxiety to disappointment in a split second. And her attentions weren’t so far elsewhere that she couldn’t take pity on her. “I do believe that some sort of punishment is in order. You failed in your duties. You didn’t greet me at the door, like I expect. Turn around.”

She watched his eyes, and as Pet turned around, revealing a neat, round arse to them both, she detected a light spark in his face. His cock began to shift in her hand, to grow, and she felt a sudden stiffness in his shaft when she reached under the mattress and drew out a paddle. It wasn’t very big, just big enough to take the place of a hand – but it had been in the agreement – no touching the slave-girl.

She thought for a good minute, and eventually opted for the risky manoeuvre, handing him the paddle. “Bend over, girl. The Dom is going to punish you today.” She touched his arm, held his eyes, squeezed his cock that had reached full hardness, and stayed hard the moment he held the paddle in his hand. She smiled. A bit of headway, then? Did he like the word? The idea? Was it something he fantasised about, in the darkness of his bedroom, alone in that big double bed? Maybe.

“Your Dom will punish you now.”

She watched his face. It was reddening, and a little tick had appeared in his left cheek. He flashed his eyes at her, wide, and his nostrils flared. She stroked his cock with her thumb, loosening her grip a little, smiled at him; nodded. He frowned back, and she saw his hand holding the paddle waver. She put her finger under his chin and lifted his head so their eyes meet totally and unhindered. She mouthed, “Do you want to?” He didn’t move for a moment; blushed further, until she could feel the heat escape his skin and travel through the air to hers. He nodded, and his voice gave a hoarse whisper. “Yes.”

She watched as he spanked her slave. He brought the paddle down on her right cheek, then her left, just as she’d shown him she could do with her hand on her arse, from the very first time he’d ripped her clothes off in the kitchen and they’d fucked like rabbits. He’d remembered. Right, then left, so tentative at first that he may as well be caressing her, but he felt his way into it. Over and over. The pink rose to the surface of her slave-girl’s backside, and left clear finger marks after the fourth set. His arm moved further back each time; came down harder, and Pet squealed involuntarily at the thwack of the sixth set. His breathing was hard. She looked at him. His eyes were aflame, somewhere else; the power had taken over. Grabbing his hand, she halted his move, and slid her hand over his. The look he gave her – not knowing what he’d done – whether it was wrong – made her stomach squirm into knots she’d never had before. She mouthed, “Gently.”

Moving his hand with hers, she placed the paddle in between her slave’s legs. Holding onto him still, she let him feel the paddle against the waiting pussy, rubbing it towards her slave’s clit and back again, all the way, so that it made contact with her arse. She listened for the sound of his breath easing, before giving further instruction.

“Squeal once more, girl, and your Dom will do it again. And this time it will be on your cunt, make no mistake.”

She guided his hand. Left, right, against her pussy. A little scream. Harder – left, right, up. Another scream, as the slave-girl hitched her backside up, pressing it onto the flat of the paddle. He looked at her, confusion mingling with heady excitement filling his face. She smiled. Pet always knew what to do.

“I would like to know if you’ve finished screaming. If not, your Dom’ll continue until he chooses to stop.”

A little scream. She nodded at him again, and this time he smiled back, and the frown lifted a little. She took her hand away, and he found his own rhythm. His whole body heaved; his eyes glowed, and he seemed to be remembering what she’d said about taking it gentle. She nestled down into his groin and drew his cockhead into her mouth, soaking him with her tongue, and her clit pulsated as she heard a stifled grunt from him. With every spank, she drove her tongue tip into his slit, and felt his head swell at the ridge that cocooned itself behind her teeth. She looked up at him through her black mascara-elongated eyelashes, her mouth sucking gently at his head.

“I wanna fuck you. Right now.”

Slowly, brushing his chest with the front of her black corset, watching his eyes gorge on the sight of her tits pushed up and not quite showing the top of her nipples, she removed the paddle from his fingers. Then she kissed the cheeks of the slave-girl’s backside, and examined her pussy which had become a swollen purple-pink, and ran in its own cum.

“Go to the chair. Face away from me. On your knees.” She refused to let Pet’s incredible doe eyes make him uncomfortable. “You’ll not watch your Dom fuck me. You’ve not earned it today.”

The girl positioned herself on the chair. She watched him watch; felt his shaft slacken slightly in her hand. She gripped it hard, thrust the paddle in his hand. Her lips brushed the side of his head, and her whisper fell from her lips into his ear.

“Please. Oh please, sir.”

He sat himself right up on his knees. She saw the smile just about touch his lips before vanishing, and he shook his head. But his cock was hard, ready. Its velvet cockhead shone wet at the tip, and she ran her finger end over the big vein that ran down his shaft. She pressed her cunt against the bedsheet, knowing he could see the wet that spread into the fibres. His cock pulsed at the head, and she bit her lip in anticipation.

“No. It’s not what I want.” And she realised, then, that his eyes had gone pink and watery, as he mouthed. “Not to you.”

It took everything in her power not to cry there and then, as he pressed her down onto the bed. He kissed her cheeks, took away the saltiness of her first tears, as she put on her act: still the Mistress.

“Wet your finger end. Play with your clit. Now.” She tugged on the chain, and the slave-girl dutifully played. She fixed her eyes on the way the young woman wetted her little nub with her own spit, and rolled her finger over it, around it, pulled at it, and she slapped her own pussy for him. His cock was inches from her; her breathing became more erratic. She mustn’t stare at him; no eye contact right now to get him all worried and nervous, fucking knowing there was someone else was in the room. So she held her gaze on the little pussy on the chair. She had always enjoyed this part of her job, watching her slave-girl stroking her pussy, and her own cunt oozed wetness as she waited.

Finally she felt it. The hard stiffness. Not his cock, but the paddle handle, driven up between her pussy lips, pushing slowly, deep inside her. He was stroking his cock; she could see his hand performing the motion out of the corner of her eye. She glanced at it; it was still hardening, growing bigger than she’d believed it could ever have got on this night. He began to time his stroke to his thrusts into her, and suddenly she felt herself shoot cum down the paddle handle.

Her voice held its Mistress quality – just. “Now fuck yourself with your finger. Do it.”

She trained her eye on the smooth cunt that her slave-girl pointed upwards at her, and was sliding a finger into, obeying her instructions. It slid to the first knuckle, then the next, and found its rhythm in and out, her juices coating her finger until it slid easily enough for her to insert a second. The slave-girl’s tiny moans came, muffled by the back of the chair. She thought about tugging on the chain, bringing the collar across Pet’s throat, but she let the noises come. She couldn’t keep her eyes off him any longer. Her whole face burned, her entire body quivered, pleaded with him. She held his eyes with hers now, and a big tear fell and ran sideways down her face, to land in her hair.

The paddle ripped from inside her, and it hurt like hell, but then he was inside her, fucking her with every ounce of strength that he had. He drew her hips up to him so that there wasn’t even space to insert her finger between the base of his cock and her pussy lips. He sat her up and lifted her onto his cock, manoeuvred her up and down with his strong arms, exactly as he had done the very first time they had made love. Over his shoulder as she sucked into his neck, her slave-girl fucked alone, blind to their pleasure.

“Use your other hand. Put a finger in your arse. Fuck both holes.” She watched the girl work her finger round with her spit, until her hole opened up enough to let her finger in. Just because Mistress said so.

He gave her everything he had. His cockhead pounded inside her soft tissue, filling her, pressing against her walls and thrusting right up against her cervix. She felt the tickle of his balls as they flicked her backside with each thrust. They aroused her more than she’d ever notice before, and without thinking, she drew her finger into her mouth, and moved it up and down her crack. Her whisper breathed towards him.

“Please. Give me something you’ve never given me.”

She noticed the grin. She hadn’t seen that in a long while. For the first time, his eyes turned to glance over at her slave-girl, her finger working her arse as ferociously as her cunt.

“Not that. I don’t want to give you that. I choose not to.”

Panic welled inside her stomach, and she swallowed, trying to keep her breath even; failing.

“I’m sorry. Just fuck me, then. Do whatever you want to do. Only fuck me and don’t stop.” She pushed her cunt onto his cock, imploring him with every inch of her velvety insides. “Master, I’m yours.”

He pulled out, just as the slave-girl changed fingers. Only her little one entered her backside now, and she moaned long and hard into the seat as her pussy took a third finger inside. She glued her eyes onto her slave-girl’s body, her full thrusts onto her fingers a stark contrast to the way he had pulled out of her. She stiffened, biting the inside of her lip, and stifled a sigh; failed again, hadn’t she?

His hands were stroking her ankle bone, and she relaxed just a fraction, more out of instinct than anything else. His thumbs worked into the tendons at the bottom of her calves, spreading their way up slowly, to the back of her knees. She waited, not looking, for the little pat on the buttocks, and the sound of him throwing his clothes back on and leaving the room. She tightened her grip on the chain, winding it around her hand so that her slave-girl could no longer take comfort in biting down on the fabric where she rested her head.

“Come without a sound. Or I will pull you off the chair.” And then that act of disobedience, her slave’s face appearing from out of the back of the chair, looking at her, wide-eyed, frowning, open-mouthed. “Turn back around. I commanded you to face away.”

Then his whisper against her cheek. “Don’t be angry. It’s not her fault. If you’re angry, then I won’t continue.”

She laid still, her eyes met his, and she waited. He picked up her legs, hoisting her ankles onto his shoulders.

“Now watch me master you.”

Briefly, she felt his cockhead touch the sensitive crinkled rosebud of her arse. Instinctively, she pushed herself up against the stickiness of his cockhead. Then, without warning, he thrust himself into her arse, and her gasp at the sharp pain mingled with a guttural groan.

“What’s the matter? Is it bigger than you were expecting? This is it at its biggest, darling.”

He was grinning at her; grinning properly. She gasped again; smiled; nodded.

He fucked her. Her muscles gripped his shaft as he moved slowly at first, then a little faster against the sensitive tissue. She watched as he looked down upon the sight of his cock inside her. Her juices eased his pathway, running from her and dampening her thighs, as she felt him expand against the walls of her arse and he moaned, “Oh, wow.”

She saw him eye the paddle. Slowly, he drew himself out, his eyes glued to the implement he’d played a little with earlier, as if mesmerised by the sight of the object. He took it up, turning it over, spotting the trail of slave cum and wiping it on the bedsheet. “Maybe I’ll try this, too.”

She shut her eyes, a wave of happiness spreading through her. Finally… She waited for the slap against the bare flesh of her arse. But instead, her shoulders burned as she found herself yanked across the bedsheet. He hoisted her higher and higher, until she was balanced on the now tender parts of her shoulders. Her pussy throbbed, and she felt the wetness pooling around her entrance as he brought the cool wood of the paddle down to spank her hot cunt. He dropped it on the floor as soon as it had made contact with her, and she saw the momentary panic in his eyes. Then they were overtaken with – something else she couldn’t quite explain. He drove two fingers inside her as he spanked her clit, tentatively at first, then his fingers adapted to their target and she felt his skin making repetitive stinging contact with her hood. He tweaked the position of his hand and her clit hardened to a rock under the touch of his middle finger, her pussy lips swelling at the spanking they were receiving from the rest of his hand. Her entrance had swelled around his fingers and as he drew them out, her cum slathered them up to the point where they met his palm. He held his fingers to his lips, and she watched him inhale the muskiness of her juices. She licked her lips, her chest heaving, turned on at the prospect of seeing him taste her. He made eye contact, and brought his fingers to her lips, working them around their perimeter until finally pushing them into her mouth. His fingers filled her mouth, just as his cock filled her arse.

He was vigorous, not quite vicious, but he took his fingers from her mouth and pinned her hair to the bed. Her body writhed against the sheet, unable to move without ripping her hair from its follicles, as he thrust into her, lifting her tits over the top of her corset and bending his head to take in each nipple, grazing his teeth on it, biting it, pulling it. Every part of her sex throbbed, sensing darts of pleasure up as far as her ribs, until behind her eyelids were nothing but speckles and flashes, like tiny stars. Her orgasm began to fill her, growing with every push of his cock against her walls, again and again, until she reached breaking point. Her exposed tits pressed themselves against the sweat-drenched hair of his chest; she clung to his shoulders, shoved her fingers up into the base of his hairline, ran them through the neat cut blondeness and wound her fingers into the longer hair around his crown. She pressed herself into his cock and screamed her orgasm. A guttural groan welled deep in his throat and through her orgasm she felt his final thrust, hard against her as his cum shot deep inside her. He collapsed over the end of the bed, her hair sticking to his hand and making her wince. She fell at his feet, pulling her slave-girl completely off the chair towards them.

It took a few minutes for her breath to level so she could speak. Her slave watched her, head bent, through her eyelashes, and she recalled the same feeling of awaiting instruction as he had grown in confidence in the room, while she served him. She did feel guilty about Pet’s little tumble, and she mouthed at her, “Are you OK?” A nod of affirmation was all she needed to continue.

“You are a good girl. Now you can have your reward. I’m going to suck my Master clean. You will lick his cum from me.” She patted her slave on her long, dark hair as she received her look of gratitude from big, brown, servile eyes. She knew he was watching. Knew that’s what he would like to see, even if he wouldn’t admit it – yet. So she lay herself on the floor and reached up to his cock while her slave-girl went to work, sucking and licking at her pussy until all his juices had been swallowed, and she had licked him clean. She encased his balls with her tongue, licked at his shaft, and sucked the saltiness from his cockhead. And all the while, she kept the agreement in place. No touching the slave-girl. Her suggestion, made to respect him. He wouldn’t be asked to do that. Not yet.

She unhooked the chain from her slave’s collar and laid it on the floor.

“Off you go. Good girl. Get Lucy to put your cream on, then two coffees, please, and some biscuits. Chocolate ones, or you’ll be punished later.” And she knew she’d get a plate of custard creams. She let Pet go with a wink, and a kiss blown from the very end of her fingertip. Pet really was her favourite.

She’d done her stint for the day, hadn’t broken the rule. But who knew, maybe the rules would change – next time? There would be a next time now, she was sure of that. Because she could read in him what he wanted, really, even if he would never ask. But there were ways around that…

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