The Devil and the Sea Ch. 09

25 Temmuz 2022 0 Yazar: sexhikayeleri

College

[Recap: Anya wants to learn how to top Jen so with Henry’s help they’ve concocted Mistress X, an online domme profile. Finally, Jen is allowed to meet Mistress X in the flesh. Anya needs to step up and embrace her inner dominatrix. Henry yields to his dark desires to play with both women’s minds.

You can read ‘The Monogamists’ for the backstory if you want to find out how Henry, Jen and Anya met.]

IN THE FLESH

Jen and I went straight from work on Friday night to the airport. She got changed quickly, stashing her workwear and swapping it for a sexy black dress and heels, buzzing with excitement as she wheeled her little travel suitcase to the elevators. Anya was waiting for us in the foyer, downstairs.

“How do I look?” she asked, doing a little twirl.

“Very fuckable,” Anya replied.

It was the truth: the little black dress hugged her hips, stopping mid-thigh to reveal Jen’s long, bare legs, sculpted by the stilettos she was wearing. She had tied her blonde tresses into a loose bun, strands of hair cascading across her shoulders. The neck plunged in a v-cut, drawing the eye down to her small, perky breasts. I couldn’t help but stare.

Anya waved a finger at the hemline. “You getting on the plane like that?”

Jen leaned close and kissed her, before shrugging on a knee-length jacket that I’d been carrying.

“I just wanted to give you the full effect,” Jen laughed as she covered up.

Anya scowled. “Just be safe, okay?” she said. “Now, let me have a word with Henry.”

Jen reached out and gathered Anya up into a hug. “I’ll be fine,” Jen said, “Henry’s looking after me.”

Jen became serious. “Thank you,” she said, and gave Anya another kiss, “I know how hard this is.”

Anya didn’t answer, but instead turned to me.

“Jen, why don’t you grab us a ride? I’ll be out in a minute,” I said.

Jen nodded and left us alone together.

I waited until Jen was out of earshot. “Question is, are you okay?” I asked.

Anya shrugged. “I’m shitting myself.”

“Do you still want to do this?” I asked.

“Too late for that now. Too late the moment we first showed her that goddamn profile picture. That’s what scares the shit out of me.”

I put my hand on her arm, trying to be reassuring. “See you tonight,” I said.

“Is she okay?” said a woman’s voice.

I looked up. A pretty flight attendant was leaning in towards us, concerned.

“She’s not a good flyer,” I replied.

Jen’s eyes were closed and she was taking long, controlled breaths. Her jacket was spread out across our laps and both her hands were white knuckled on the hand I had placed on her thigh.

“We can help with that,” the attendant said, her delicate face showing concern. A little too much make up, but ruby red lipstick accenting delicate features. I noticed a small scar on her jawline, just beneath her ear.

“She’s just on edge,” I said. Unseen, under the jacket, the fingers of my other hand continued their torturously slow circuit of Jen’s clit. “Sometimes you just have to grin and bear it, even though it seems to take forever.”

The flight attendant smiled and left. I found myself watching her perfectly shaped rear in the airline-uniform knee-length skirt as she walked up the aisle. Jen wouldn’t care that I was looking. At this point she wasn’t able to care about very much at all.

“We’re landing in thirty minutes,” I said. Jen didn’t reply; she just continued with her slow breathing control exercises.

I’d been correct when Jen and I got home from the walk. Anya had been in tears but by the time we got back she had managed to compose herself and was busily pretending that nothing was amiss. It wasn’t until the day after, when Jen went on her morning run before work, that I finally had time alone with Anya. We sat at the breakfast counter and Anya let it all spill out.

It became clear immediately that Anya had reached the same conclusion that I had. She wanted it to stop, but also couldn’t see a way of doing that. So, we hatched a plan to give Jen a night to remember and pause for thought, a way to bring Mistress X to a neat conclusion and move on with our lives. Mistress X would agree to see Jen in a once-off meeting providing certain conditions were met, such as talking to me as the husband to arrange the logistics including the flight to get there.

I hadn’t thought about it, but Anya had clearly been working through the options. It was safer if Mistress X was a plane trip away, rather than nearby, though it would cost more to set up three sets of flights and two hotel rooms. Anya called in some favours with the travel department at work to help disguise the bookings.

Finally, I sent Jen a short message from Mistress X to say she agreed to the meeting but all communications would be with me. Jen would remain in the dark unless I chose to inform her. When Jen got the message, she practically bounced off the couch. My eyes were on Anya though, fretting.

We got to our hotel at eight o’clock. I took Jen aside and made her sit down and eat something from the bar menu in the little bar next to the reception desk. She picked at a grilled chicken burger fitfully.

“You kaçak iddaa gonna eat that?” I asked.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Anya calling. I put her on speaker.

“Oh hi!” Jen called, “We’re here.”

“Yeah and someone is very excited,” I added.

“Remember, how lucky you are,” Anya said, “Mistress X doesn’t ever do live meetings. This is a once-off.”

“I know, I’m very lucky, and I have very understanding partners who I’m very grateful to for helping me do this,” said Jen, then seemingly to change topic, “You all good on your own?”

“I’m lying on the couch with a bottle of red wine and not a stitch on.”

Jen leaned in and scooped up the phone from the table. “Show me,” she said, “Put your video on!”

“Yeah, hold on.”

The screen came to life, showing Anya’s face in close-up and then tilting the camera down to reveal a dark grey polo-neck sweater.

“Boring,” Jen said.

“Compared to you?” Anya replied, archly.

“At least tell me you’re wearing a g-string.”

“I’m not,” Anya replied, then added, “Anyway, I just called to check in. Can you hand me back to Henry?”

Jen blew her wife a kiss and passed the phone back to me. The screen was showing a close up of Anya’s face, looking at me expectantly. I angled the screen so that Jen couldn’t see and made a show of reaching for the end call button.

Silently, Anya hooked a finger into her polo neck and pulled down. Beneath the fabric I could see shiny black latex tight against her skin. Anya ended the call.

“She’s really worried, isn’t she,” Jen said.

I just nodded. Jen made a face and pulled at a little more of her burger, nervously. She popped some chicken into her mouth and chewed for a while, before speaking again.

“I know what I’m putting you both through, and I just want you to know I love you both so much for letting me do this.”

I was about to reply but Jen’s eyes suddenly widened. She produced her phone from her jacket pocket and scanned the screen.

“It’s from her!” Jen exclaimed. I could see the sparkle in her eyes. “She says to go up to room 1204, there’s a keycard for you at reception. I’m to stand outside while you talk.”

“You ready?” I asked, taking her hand in mine.

“Really ready,” Jen replied eagerly, and stood to go. The burger sat forgotten on the plate.

Up on the twelfth floor, we found the door to Mistress X’s room. I turned to Jen and said in a low voice, “Stay standing here until I come back. Do not move.”

I watched Jen as she froze into position. Good. Anya’s job would be a lot easier if Jen was already in the correct mindset. I unbuttoned her jacket and slid it off her shoulders, leaving her standing in the hotel corridor in a short cocktail dress forbidden to move.

“I wonder what someone would make of you if they passed by while I was inside the room talking?” I said. “Maybe I should make this more interesting.”

I wanted to push Jen’s limits. My hand traced up the bare skin of her thigh as I scrutinized her face carefully. She didn’t resist or flicker as I pushed my hand under her skirt and all the way up to the top of her leg. My fingers found the lacework of her g-string. With a slow, insistent motion I began to tug, working her panties gradually down her legs. When they got to her knees I let them fall to her ankles.

“Better hope Mistress X is a fast talker,” I said.

On a whim, I touched a finger to her chin and gently prized her mouth open.

“Good girl,” I said. “Don’t drool on yourself.”

Leaving Jen with her mouth in a beautiful ‘O’ shape and her panties pooled around her ankles, I slipped into the room. Anya was sitting on the bed, still wearing the grey polo-neck sweater and trackpants.

“You good?” I asked, “I thought you’d be changed by now.”

Anya stood and pulled down the waistband of her trackpants to reveal shiny black latex underneath.

“I got changed ages ago,” she said. “I even went across the road to the café to get a sandwich.”

“Dressed like that? How’d it feel?”

“Awesome,” Anya said, “I was getting into character. I was even an arrogant bitch to the waitress.”

She presented me with the hood and fake blonde ponytail. “Can you please dress me?”

I took the hood from her and slowly pulled the sweater up over her head, revealing the sculpted waist and torso, cinched in the black corset. I moved around behind her and took hold of the laces.

“Too slack,” I said.

“It’s hard doing this on your own,” she replied.

I worked the slack out of the laces gradually, starting from bottom to top.

“So,” I continued, “You good? You know the script?”

“We need to test the earpods,” Anya replied, grunting as I brought the corset together and tied the laces off at the top.

“We already did,” I replied. “And we stepped though everything. You were fantastic in rehearsal,” I reassured her.

Anya wriggled out of the trackpants, revealing long black latex stockings topping off wicked stiletto heels. Her bottom was sculpted to a firm, trim heart shape in the latex of the one-piece body she wore. When she turned to face me though, I could see the doubt in her face.

“Jen kaçak bahis will go for this big time, you’ll see,” I said.

“Just be there,” Anya said, tapping the little white earpods into her ears. “She’s my puppet for the night, and I’m your puppet.”

I didn’t reply. Instead, I slid the hood over her beautiful face, adjusting the openings until all that was left of Anya was a pair of soft, wide brown eyes and a set of kissable lips in vivid dark red lipstick.

“You’re not my puppet. You’re going to make the calls. If you need input you can ask.”

I turned her around to zip the hood up, gripping the blonde fake ponytail that emerged from the hole at the back and holding it out of the way of the zip.

“How?”

I tugged lightly on the ponytail. “Do that. I’ll see it on the video. Then you can shake your head or nod. That should be enough.”

She retrieved the little eye lenses case from her bag and gathered up the rest of her clothing from the floor, hiding any evidence of Anya ever having been in the room. I went over to the table, where her laptop was open and brought up the webcam app. It took me a minute or two to get the feed live on my phone and the camera angle adjusted so I would be looking sidelong at the bed. I blacked out the screen and stepped back. All Jen would see was a powered-down laptop, but it gave me full access to the room. I was sure that Anya was going to be brilliant tonight, but this little lifeline was important to her. I could tell how badly she wanted not to disappoint Jen.

“Testing,” I said into the phone.

“Loud and clear,” came a voice in a soft French accent from behind me.

When I turned, the sight took my breath away. Mistress X was standing in the middle of the room, her one-piece black latex body transforming her torso and cleavage into a shiny sculpture of curves. The collar was tight around her neck, meeting the collar of her hood without showing any skin gap, so my eye was directed down her glossy black skin from the curve of her neck, to the shiny black orbs of her ample breasts, contained and pushed up by the merciless corset that angled her waist to a narrow point, before flaring out again to her beautiful, rounded hips. There was an exposed strip of skin at the tops of her thighs, and then it was shiny featureless black latex all the way down to her stilettos. But as my gaze travelled back up to her face, it was her eyes that arrested me. They were icy blue and pitiless.

“Are you still in there?” I asked.

In reply, she snapped open the two press-studs at her crotch to peel back the latex panel covering her pussy. The lips were swollen and slick. Then I saw: she had bleached her neat trim of pubic hair to match the ponytail.

“No Henry, I’m not,” she said, in lilting French tones.

She smoothed the latex panel back into place, her finger lingering where the shiny material compressed her pussy lips.

“Bring me your wife,” she said.

I opened the door, to find Jen standing exactly as I had left her in the hallway outside. I couldn’t tell if anyone had walked past her and I wasn’t about to ask.

“She’s ready for you now, come in,” I said. She took a step and her panties fell to the carpet.

“Leave those there,” I said, “You won’t be needing them.”

I let Jen precede me into the room. She made it no more than two steps before coming to a complete halt as she came face to face with the object of her fantasies. Both women regarded each other silently.

“Let’s skip introductions,” Mistress X said, breaking the silence. “Your husband has been very helpful in detailing your strengths and weaknesses. I will make full use of that information in this session. I’m going to give you a new understanding of what I expect with regards to service.”

She turned to address me as she began to walk around Jen in a circle, making a show of examining her from all angles. “Your wife is taller than I imagined,” she said.

Mistress X completed her circuit and leaned in close to Jen’s face, the cold blue eyes vivid against the glossy black. Even though both women were in heels, Jen was still half a head taller.

“That can be rectified,” Mistress X purred. “Kneel.”

Jen dropped directly to her knees on the carpet in front of the other woman. Mistress X smiled at me: Jen had passed the first test.

“Eyes down.”

Jen’s head tilted immediately to the floor.

“Now,” Mistress X continued, “Shall we see what we have to work with? Pull your dress up to your waist and spread your legs.”

Jen shuffled on her knees, working her hemline up over her bottom. She then spread her legs wide, exposing her pussy.

“Hands on your head.”

Jen folded her hands together on her head.

“Good. This is position one. When I want you to display yourself, you will use position one. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Jen replied.

Mistress X’s demeanour changed.

“A demerit already, so early into the night,” she said, her tone hardened.

I could see Jen’s body stiffen. This was a crucial part of the script, and Anya had rehearsed it many times with me, even down to the specific wording. If it went smoothly, the rest of the night illegal bahis would follow. The room was silent, Mistress X waited.

“Yes, Mistress,” Jen said.

“Better,” said Mistress X, “But not fast enough. Your reaction to my commands must be immediate. You’re very lucky that I decided to do this. I never meet my toys in person.” She bent down to Jen’s ear. “This is the only time this will happen. Don’t make me regret giving you the opportunity to serve me in the flesh.”

Mistress X straightened up again and ran a hand through the tangles of Jen’s blonde hair.

“So much potential. But clearly in need of a lesson. Take your hands down and remove your dress. It looks like I need to introduce position two.”

Jen moved quickly, wriggling the cocktail dress over her head, eager to obey. Mistress X took Jen’s left hand and guided it up to Jen’s breast.

“One hand here, playing. Begin now,” Mistress X said. Jen’s fingers began to tweak and caress her already-hardening nipple.

She took the other hand and crouched down, latex creaking. Entwining her fingers with Jen’s, she placed the other hand on Jen’s slit and held it there.

“Have you ever masturbated in front of a stranger before?” she asked.

Jen shook her head and then hurriedly followed up with, “No Mistress.”

“Begin now.”

Mistress X stood up and we both watched Jen’s hands begin to work at her nipple and her pussy lips.

“Inside,” Mistress X said, “I want you to fully explore yourself in front of me.”

Jen dipped her fingers into her own pussy and began to rub her clit with her thumb.

Mistress X turned to me and said, “Well she certainly knows how to do that Henry. I think she might even be enjoying it. Does she know what a safeword is?”

“Yes,” I replied.

“Good. Then let’s set one.” She placed a hand on Jen’s head. “Your safeword is ‘fucktoy’. That is the only word you are allowed to say unless I ask you to speak. You are now my fucktoy. Do you understand?”

“Yes Mistress.”

“Good. Now, Henry,” she turned back to me, “I assume that the toy has been denied all week? And teased?”

“Yes,” I replied, noting the way Jen was now being referred to as a toy. Anya was really getting into this. With the soft French accent, it was almost impossible to detect her inside the black latex disguise.

Mistress X’s tone became conversational, addressing an equal. “I think I can take it from here,” she said. “I must say, your preparation has been excellent, I’m very grateful that you’ve spared me a lot of the boring groundwork.”

I knew what she meant. “It was my pleasure,” I said.

Mistress X paused for a moment. “Do you like seeing her like this? I assume this is a new thing for you both? Does it turn you on, seeing your wife on her knees masturbating and under my control?”

The question was unexpected, and I realised that Anya had trapped me into having to respond. She really wanted to know, and this was the only time she’d be able to make me tell her.

“I think it’s very sexy,” I said truthfully, as much for Jen’s benefit as Anya’s. Mistress X shifted her position slightly. The words had hit a mark, so I pressed on.

“I want you to take command of her. She is used to obeying her husband, but I’m giving my wife to you because she says she needs to experience female control.”

I watched the latex-hooded face opposite me carefully. The shiny black material hid almost all expression, turning Anya into an inhuman dominatrix. But under the mask was a woman who I realised needed this as much as the woman still masturbating, forgotten, at our feet.

She swallowed, her mouth dry, a sign that my words were having an effect. Jen, ignored between us, was oblivious to this exchange.

“It’s actually quite common,” Mistress X continued at last, back onto the script. “Married women reach out to me frequently. Often, it’s easier to ask a stranger on a video call to take control and do things that she would never ask someone she loved.”

She ran a hand absently through the blonde hair of the woman beneath her. “Of course, with a call, it’s always so safe. You can end it at any time.” Her hand snaked under Jen’s chin and she tilted Jen’s head back until she could make eye contact.

“It’s a lot more real in person,” she said. “You can find very quickly that you have no power at all. Even safewords become useless because you can’t bring yourself to stop. You end up as a mindless fucktoy being broken by your Mistress.”

Jen’s body shuddered and her hands went slack.

“Did I tell you to stop?”

Jen resumed, hurriedly.

“Henry, I’ll probably need to keep her until midnight. She should be thoroughly broken by then.”

As I walked back down the corridor, my mind raced. The sight of Jen on her knees, obeying her fantasy Mistress, kept replaying in my head. I recalled the way Jen had been on the day in the park, as she lay on my bed after we had used her: empty, compliant. She had become locked into a submissive state that I had never seen before, way past the point of our normal games. I had to admit, it had triggered something in myself also, a need to control, to push her. I wanted to do that to her again, and that was what I wanted to get out of tonight. I wanted to see Jen, helpless and obedient, at my whim. I had spent long enough hiding from this dark urge. It was time to embrace it.