A final fling is exactly the way Mistress wants it.
Jacob, my boyfriend of six months, was an obedient slave and an attentive and skilled lover. He was the kind of good looking creature I was proud to have on my arm, yet his lack of imagination meant I’d tired of him. I’d brought him to the hotel for a final fling, my farewell.
The hotel was run by my friend Melissa, a woman after my own heart. It was a female-led house and all its staff and guests followed its female-spun rules. Jacob, devoted as he was to dominant women like Melissa and myself, had wanted me to take him there for ages, though he had no idea what I had planned.
As Jacob struggled with my heavy bags I told him to get the room ready, and dropped the key to the floor for him to collect. I turned my back on him and walked off to the bar to greet my friends, smiling to myself as I pictured him struggling up two flights of stairs with the unnecessary luggage. Six bags, only one of which had my things inside; the rest were full of metal weights and rags.
I spent twenty minutes chatting with my friends, Melissa among them, before we all went up to our rooms to prepare for the night’s party.
Jacob knew what I expected from him. All my things were to be neatly packed away, luggage out of sight, and a bath drawn and ready. I was not disappointed, and Jacob too was as I wanted him; naked and kneeling in the corner, his eyes to the floor.
I strode over to stand in front of him so that all he could see with his downturned eyes were my feet and ankles. I kicked off my heels and stood in stockinged feet, then removed my jacket and threw it over him, blocking his view. I undressed, leaving my clothes and underwear strewn about the room. I took the jacket off him and lifted his head with two fingers placed firmly under his chin. He could have seen my naked form if he’d been brave enough to look, but I fixed his gaze, supervising what he could see and what he couldn’t, and he trembled.
“Wait here for me and don’t move an inch until I call for you,” I said, my voice a firm whisper. I sank into the bath and enjoyed the peace and the bubbles lapping my skin. When I was done I called for Jacob. He stood in the doorway, reluctant to come in, so I lifted my arm and beckoned him the final few feet. He could have peered directly into the soapy waters and seen, among the fading bubbles, my wet thigh, the curved mounds of my breasts, my décolletage, my neck. But of course, he didn’t dare.
He held up the towel so that it dropped from just above his eyeline, and there was a gentle ripple, then a cascading waterfall, as I stood in the bath. If he had looked, he’d have seen trails and droplets of water falling from my body and clusters of soap bubbles clinging to my hips, my calves and my bottom. Instead, he closed the towel around me, his hand brushing against my shoulder fleetingly. I slapped his face hard for having the audacity to touch me, but I wanted to tease him, so I pressed my body firmly against him and moved my thigh between his legs, feeling his rock hard cock against me.
I leant in close and whispered my farewell surprise in his ear. “I want you to make me come, and once I have I’m done with you.”
He shuddered. He’d had no idea this was what I’d planned, and his fear and disappointment were fuel to my fire. I was hot and impatient to use him, his body, his lips, his tongue and his cock. I pulled him through to the bedroom and told him to lie down. I climbed onto the bed and sat on his face. I let him find his way alone at first but soon tired of his technique. I’m so particular about what I like and how I like it. I lifted myself off, sliding my wet c**t down his body, leaving a trail of my juices on his chest, then fixed his gaze once more.
“Like this,” I said, as I brought my lips to his and used his mouth as though it were my c**t. I turned around so that my arse was in his face and he began to lick me again, much improved. I turned my attention to his cock and balls. First I raked my nails down his shaft and he winced and wriggled beneath me, contrary to my instruction not to move, and so I slapped his balls hard with the palm of my hand and he stifled a groan with his mouth still wrapped around my c**t.
I alternated my vicious treatment of his pride and joy with more tender caresses, sensing carefully his level of control. I was close to coming myself, so for the next few minutes I intensified my mistreatment of his cock; more nails, wicked flicks to the head and squeezes to his balls, one in each hand, with all my strength. My c**t, by then dripping wet, was just the soothing cure his sore and battered cock needed. I allowed him to feel the warm, soft, moistness of my c**t as I slid him inside me. I came quickly and lay breathless at his side. But I remained kind, stroking his hair and wiping the tears from his face. “It’s all right,” I said softly. “It’s not farewell just yet.”
We joined my friends in the hotel bar. They had started the party without me. Men in black aprons and nothing more served strawberries and champagne to five exquisitely dressed goddesses. As I entered, a deflated Jacob a few paces behind me, the women stood and cheered.
“A fine looking boy. Tall, dark and handsome, just like you said.”
“I’m done with him now. So, which one of you wants him and what shall we trade?” Melissa stood up without a pause and snapped her fingers. One of the boys in black aprons hurried to her side, hands behind his back, eyes to the floor.
“Not as tall, but a little bit younger. A fair trade, wouldn’t you say?”
Jacob and I shared one last gaze. And we each had a glint in our eye.
