Tiffany Reisz

The Mistress Files


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hard,” Sheridan said with a giggle so amorous she sounded intoxicated. “He slammed into me in one stroke. My hips had bruises on them the next morning from how hard he went it. I kept going to the bathroom just to look at them. He owned me with that thrust.”

      He owned me.... The Mistress had pegged Sheridan as a submissive. With three words she outed herself.

      “On the opposite of the foyer was this big mirror. I remember turning my head and watching him as he fucked me.”

      “I love doing that. Men think they’re the visual ones, but who needs internet porn when you’ve got a mirror at the end of your bed?”

      “I should get one. God, it was amazing watching him. I’d never done that before really...watched him while he fucked me. He was almost out of his mind. He wasn’t even holding onto me, just the edge of the table. He just...” Sheridan paused for a breath and to open her thighs even wider. Good, The Mistress thought. Sheridan was close to going out of her mind waiting to be penetrated. “He just pounded me. It was brutal. I heard the table feet scraping the tile floor. And he was grunting and panting like he was in pain almost. You should have seen him...I did see him. I still can see him.”

      The Mistress let Sheridan fall silent. The girl was no doubt lost in the most erotic memory of her life, the memory of a man so consumed with lust for her he nearly ate her alive in the foyer of his town house before he even could be bothered with a “hello.”

      “What else can you see?” The Mistress asked as she opened Sheridan wider and stroked her inner lips. The girl was slick with desire and remembered passion.

      “He grabbed the back of my neck and held me down hard against the table. He was absolutely ramming into me by that point. I don’t know...it was like he knew that would be our last night together even though I hadn’t told him.”

      “Did you orgasm then?”

      Sheridan shook her head. “No. He came first. Loudly. Usually he was so quiet during sex, really intense. But that time he just groaned. I usually couldn’t feel it when he came, either, but that night I did. When he pulled out, his cum dribbled down my legs and onto the floor.”

      “I hope he had a forgiving housekeeper.”

      “He left me laying on table while he zipped his pants back up. Then he grabbed me and picked me up. I laughed out loud at that. Crazy... It was so Gone With the Wind, him carrying me up the stairs. I told him I could walk.”

      “You look like you weigh about ninety-five pounds. Let the man carry you.”

      “I did and I loved it. I loved it when he threw me onto his bed upstairs. And I loved it when he took his belt and whipped the back of my legs with it.”

      “Ohh...masochistic streak. I can work with that.”

      “I hope you do, Mistress,” Sheridan said, her voice dropping an octave. “He didn’t hit me very often. Didn’t want anyone seeing the welts.”

      “Occupational hazard in my world. Our world,” The Mistress corrected. The sooner Sheridan accepted her kinky side, the sooner she’d be able to enjoy sex again.

      “Exactly. But I was eighteen then and we were wild that night. He whipped me from ass to ankles....”

      “I’m putting that on my to-do list.”

      “And then he tied to me to the bed on my back. He was already hard again. He crawled on top of me...I loved looking at him. I don’t know why but he always wore his suit during sex. Never undressed. He’d take off his jacket, roll up his sleeves, but that was it. He’d leave on the vest or his tie... I loved it, though. It felt so dirty being naked while he was fully dressed in his sexy business suits. Maybe that’s why he did it.”

      The Mistress kept her mouth shut. A man in his late thirties, early forties, having an affair with beautiful a teenage girl? She knew exactly why he kept his clothes on during sex. Sheridan’s lover didn’t want her seeing his aging body. But The Mistress didn’t tell Sheridan that.

      “What did he do then?”

      “He fucked me again. Not as hard this time. Slower...much slower. It was always slower the second time. And he finally kissed me. And while he was kissing me he started rubbing my clit. That was my favorite...when he touched my clit while inside me. I came every time when he did that.”

      “Like this?”

      The Mistress turned her hand and pushed three fingers deep into Sheridan’s body as she carefully rubbed her clitoris with her other hand. As the first penetration, Sheridan gasped and dug her hands back into the cushions.

      She nodded mutely. Just like that.

      “Keep remembering, Sheridan,” The Mistress ordered. “But don’t talk. Just remember how good it felt, this man on top of you and inside you, and how it felt when you hit that moment when the pressure starts to build and you know if he just keeps doing exactly what he’s doing you’re going to come and come hard....”

      The Mistress pushed the knuckle of her thumb into Sheridan’s G-spot and smiled as the girl flinched with pleasure. Sheridan’s head fell back and the heels of her shoes dug so hard into the silk cushion that the fabric started to rip. Lost in ecstasy, Sheridan didn’t even seem to notice.

      A lifetime of experience with the female orgasm had taught The Mistress that all she had to do now was not stop. A red flush spread across Sheridan’s chest. Her breathing had quickened wildly. Every muscle in her legs had gone taut. The Mistress pushed in another finger and the girl’s body opened to her like a flower. With a little lube, she could have shoved her whole hand into the girl. But they’d save that for next time. Now all that mattered was getting Sheridan to the edge and pushing her over it.

      “I want you to come for me, Sheridan. I’m ordering you to come for me. I’m not taking off that blindfold or letting you out of this room until you come for me. I don’t care if takes all night. You can do this.”

      “I don’t know...it’s been years...I—”

      “It’s not you, Sheridan. It’s them. The guys you’ve been with who didn’t understand who you are and what you are. You can orgasm. There’s nothing wrong with you. They didn’t know what they were doing. Vanilla sex with a guy who treats you like his best buddy isn’t going to do for it. And it shouldn’t. You deserve better sex than that. You belong at the feet of a man who owns you and treats you like his property and inflicts orgasms on you like a punishment....”

      “Oh, God...” she panted between breaths.

      The Mistress pushed harder onto her clitoris, moved her hand faster and deeper insider her vagina....

      “There’s nothing wrong with you, Little Miss.”

      Sheridan’s hips rose again off the cushion and hovered a few inches in the air.

      “This nothing wrong with you at all,” The Mistress said and shoved in once more.

      With a loud and lusty cry, Sheridan’s back arched, her body froze, and every muscle inside her fluttered wildly, almost painfully around The Mistress’s hand as an orgasm years in the making ripped through the girl and sent fluid pouring out of her and onto the red silk.

      When the last contraction subsided, The Mistress carefully pulled out of Sheridan and let the girl take a few minutes to breathe.

      Sheridan’s breathing slowed. The Mistress grinned as a laugh, a beautiful tired laugh, escaped Sheridan’s lips, and a smile as wide as the sky spread across her face. Nowhere on the girl’s face did The Mistress see shame or self-loathing or fear.

      The Mistress reached behind Sheridan’s head and untied the blindfold. Sheridan blinked a few times and looked up into The Mistress’s eyes.

      “I can’t believe that happened,” she said in a faint whisper. “I haven’t come with another person in years.”

      “Welcome back. Next session