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Author’s Note:
Welcome to the last of three chapters in this story about an unusual consenting relationship between adult women. Thanks again for all the votes, emails and constructive comments – all greatly appreciated and very useful. As with the last two chapters, there’s a light ‘dominance/submission’ aspect to the story, so please be advised. Most of all, thank you very much for reading and I hope you find it an enjoyable use of your time.
*****
Trish opened her eyes. The early-morning sun brightened her tiny apartment, and she took a moment to savour how clean and tidy it was. Dishes done, laundry washed and put away, dirty clothes in the hamper, carpet vacuumed. Nattie had done a good job.
She rolled over to look at the other woman. Nattie slept naked on her back, covered to the waist in the light blue bedsheet, the ‘Princess’ signature still clearly visible above her right nipple. The signature was a mark of faux ownership – a prop Trish had used to deepen a fantasy she’d been hired to enact with Nathalie. A harmless bit of theatre. Or at least, that had been true yesterday.
Today, Trish wasn’t so sure.
The events of the previous evening had changed things. Maybe it was too much to say the fantasy had become a reality, but the relationship between the two of them had shifted in a fundamental way. Nathalie wasn’t merely a client anymore, and Princess was no longer the fake persona of a ‘fantasy escort’. That much was certain.
She’d taken Nattie out of her own house in an effort to save her life. Bought her dinner. Punished her in a public park. Brought her back to Trish’s apartment and put her to work as a housekeeper. Licked her. Brought herself to orgasm while her pussy dripped onto the submissive woman’s face. None of that had been normal. None of that was in keeping with Trish’s ‘professional’ duties.
After that, Nattie had cried. Tears of release. That part was normal; Nattie always cried after a hard-earned orgasm. Trish didn’t know the reason and wasn’t the type to probe too deeply into the psyches of her clients. Everyone was a little different, and entitled to express those differences as they saw fit. An escort couldn’t be too judgmental.
But after that, lying with her head in Princess’ lap, Nathalie had cried, too. Tears of grief that sprung from a deep well of misery inside her. She’d lost her daughter, her only child, and there was no easy way forward. She’d whimpered and sobbed and sniffled. She’d wailed at the unfairness of it, and the arbitrary cruelty of her pain.
Nathalie was lost and badly hurt, and looking for an escape from the pain. Somehow Princess was the only one close enough to share with.
Having worked all afternoon to get Nathalie to open up and seek help, Trish found herself unprepared for the depths of sorrow and anguish she was faced with. Minutes turned into hours as Nathalie wept and suffered, but Trish couldn’t do more than stroke her hair and face, keep her warm and give her a sympathetic ear. She didn’t have any wise words, no magic phrases that would sooth the pain Nathalie was feeling.
But at least they were connecting, woman-to-woman, human to human, and not relying on the artifice of their ‘fantasy’ relationship. At least this was real, and carried the potential for real healing.
Or so Trish had assumed.
It had been well past midnight when the ache in Trish’s lower back became unbearable and Nathalie’s crying had faded into murmurs and sniffs. Time to wrap things up for the night.
“Okay…let’s get some sleep. We’ll take another look at this tomorrow,” Trish said in a soft voice
“Yes ma’am.”
Ma’am? Even after the heart-to-heart connection, Nathalie was still Nattie?
“Up! We’ll find you a toothbrush, and a cloth so you can wash your face,” Trish had continued, with more than a touch of Princess’ commanding tone. Where had that come from, all the sudden?
“Where will I be sleeping?”
“Right here.” It was still too soon to leave Nathalie unsupervised. Too risky, given the pain she was in and her unsettled emotional state.
“Here?”
“Do I have to repeat myself?” Princess snapped.
“No ma’am. Thank you for letting me stay.”
Princess sighed and shook her head. “You’re sure to get into trouble the moment I take my eyes off you.”
“I’m sorry.”
Princess had directed, admonished and scolded the other woman through her bed-time preparations, until at last Nattie had fallen into a deep sleep on the left side of the bed. Princess had pulled on some loose lounge pants and a t-shirt and joined her.
Was Nathalie mostly Nattie? Trish had long suspected that Nathalie had a real-life submissive streak. More than any of her other clients, Nathalie would immerse herself so deeply into the fantasy that for a while it became indistinguishable from reality. Beyond that, it had become clear that Nathalie had obeyed Princess’ arbitrary and unreasonable commands even between visits – she’d let her pubic hair grow out and refrained from self-pleasure even when Princess wasn’t around. It was obvious that Nathalie’s submission to istanbul escort Princess was more than a once-a-month or twice-a-month thing.
But the past day had raised an even more pressing question: how much of Trish’s personality was actually Princess? Trish had always found her ‘Princess’ persona an easy one to summon and maintain, but she’d assumed that was because she was a trained actor and well-prepped for the role. Princess was self-centred and bratty and demanding and unreasonable – it was a fun role to play. Almost liberating, in a sense.
But yesterday had been the first time the role had generated real feelings. Powerful lust. Protectiveness. Ownership. Yesterday, Princess had shattered the strict confines of the transactional, client-escort relationship Trish had always maintained. Yesterday, Princess had overruled Trish and claimed Nattie for her own.
So…who was she, really? How much of this was real, and how much was fantasy? Were she and Nattie in a relationship now, or was this something else? Even after a decent sleep, things were no clearer.
With a fingernail, Princess lightly re-traced her signature on Nattie’s breast, recalling how eager the other woman was to have it there, to belong to her mistress.
“Mmm…that tickles,” Nattie said in a groggy half-whisper.
“You’re awake?”
“Yes ma’am, just now. What time is it?”
Princess sat up and grabbed her phone from the nightstand. “Nine-forty.”
“We slept late.”
“Well, you probably needed it,” Princess said.
“Thank you…and for last night as well. It felt good to talk to someone.”
Princess nodded, then reached down to brush some stray, brown hair away from Nattie’s face. For a while neither of them spoke.
“So…what now?” Nattie said at last.
Princess looked into her eyes. “Are you still planning to kill yourself?”
Nattie looked away. “No…I don’t think so.”
“You don’t THINK so?” Princess allowed an edge to creep into her tone.
“I mean…I was never one-hundred percent sure I was going to. Things just got to be…a little much.”
“You should have called,” Princess admonished. “Don’t I always tell you I’ll come when you need me?”
“I’m sorry.” Nattie still wouldn’t meet her eyes.
Princess stroked her cheek tenderly. A few more moments passed in silence.
“I should have called you,” Princess said in a quiet voice. “I should have reached out.”
“It’s okay. It wasn’t your problem,” Nattie said.
There was another prolonged silence.
“So…what now?” Nattie asked again.
It took a few moments to realize that Nattie was offering up control, putting the decision in Princess’ hands, where it had always been since the start. It was how Nattie preferred it. Princess, too.
“It’s time to stop dawdling around in bed. Get up…stand at ‘inspect’.” Princess said.
“Yes ma’am,” Nattie said, the eagerness in her voice scarcely concealed. She slid out of bed and stood straight, feet apart, eyes forward. Naked…and sexy.
Princess swung her legs around, sat on the side of the bed and stretched. She stood and slowly approached her subject, then circled her at a leisurely pace. The redness on her rear end from the spanking had faded overnight; only a couple of small blotches were discernible against the pale skin. When she was standing in front of the shorter woman she looked down at the signature on her breast.
“What is this?” Princess asked, running her finger over the ink.
“Your signature.”
“And what does it mean?”
“That…I belong to you?”
“You don’t sound very sure,” Princess said.
Nattie flushed a lovely shade of pink. “It means I belong to you.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Only when you pay me to visit you, or all the time?”
Nattie hesitated. “Ma’am?”
Princess looked into the other woman’s eyes. “Do you only belong to me when I come to visit you, or do you belong to me always?”
It was a question Princess could never have asked before yesterday’s revelations – it was too ‘real’. Acknowledging the real-life realities of the client-escort dynamic would have broken the ‘fantasy mood’ prior to yesterday. But perhaps that wasn’t true anymore.
Nattie’s eyes widened and Princess knew she’d hit close to the mark. “Always,” her voice was barely audible.
“I can’t hear you.”
“Always…I belong to you always.” Her blush deepened.
“Mmm. Again,” Princess said, running her index finger back and forth over her signature again, teasing the soft flesh of Nattie’s breast.
“I belong to you always.”
Princess’ finger went lower and started making slow circles around the aureola.
“You’re mine?”
“Yes ma’am. I’m yours.” Nattie’s breath was coming faster.
“Always?”
“Always.”
“You’re not going to cause me any trouble, are you?”
“No…no, I promise.”
“You’re going to do as you’re told?”
“Yes.”
“Yes what?” Princess pinched Nattie’s nipple and began to roll it firmly between thumb and index finger.
Nattie gasped at the esenyurt escort new pleasure. “Yes ma’am, I’ll…do as I’m told.”
“What if I’m not there? Will you do as you’re told even when I’m someplace else?”
Nattie nodded. She was breathing open-mouthed now, gazing deep into Princess’ eyes.
“Why is that, Nattie?”
“Because I belong to you…always.”
Princess stepped back and let go of Nattie’s nipple, bringing a groan of disappointment.
“We’re going for breakfast,” Princess decided.
“Yes ma’am.”
“But you soiled your skirt with that wet kitty of yours, didn’t you?”
“Yes…I’m sorry.”
“I suppose I can loan you something to wear.”
“Thank you.”
Princess went to her dresser to see what would work best. Nattie was a little shorter and a little more rounded, with wider hips and larger breasts. She pulled out some gray track pants and a baggy campus sweatshirt. The pants has a drawstring at the waist and elastic around the ankles so it could go a size up or down without too much trouble. The sweatshirt should fit Nattie’s larger chest.
“Put these on,” Princess said, tossing the clothes to the other woman. “I want you dressed when I get out of the washroom.
She went to the washroom for a quick shower and emerged wearing a towel to find Nattie had dressed. The track pants were a little saggy in the leg but fit snugly around Nattie’s hips and rear end. The sweatshirt fit well; the other woman’s larger chest filled it out nicely.
“Good enough,” Princess decided.
“Ma’am? Maybe…a bra?”
“The one you wore yesterday is dirty and I don’t have any that will fit,” Princess said, gesturing dismissively at the question. “And we know why you’re not wearing panties, don’t we?”
Nattie nodded as a blush bloomed on her face.
“Why is that?”
“I…can’t keep them dry.”
“Now get moving and undress me. I’m hungry and don’t want to stand here all morning.”
Nattie hurried to obey, helping her mistress out of the towel and into lacy, white panties, a matching bra and a yellow sun dress. Dressing up while keeping Nattie in unflattering clothes made Princess seem all the more beautiful by comparison, as intended.
Before leaving, Princess packed a bag with some of the things she’d need for the rest of the day. She planned to keep Nattie busy and engaged, and not wallowing in depression. Princess left the house in white heels, while Nattie wore a borrowed pair of flip-flops.
As they walked to the car, Princess could see the bounce and sway of Nattie’s breasts under the sweatshirt. Unrestrained, they certainly drew attention to themselves. Princess felt the fires of arousal beginning to ignite inside her.
She drove a short distance to Len’s Den, a dim, moody coffee shop close to the college. Ten o’clock on a summer weekday was a slow time for business, so Princess was able to find them a quiet booth near the back.
“I’ve never been here,” Nattie said, once Princess had finished ordering for both of them.
“This is where you come to pull an all-nighter,” Princess said, indulging Nattie with a smile. “Free internet, strong coffee and open until three in the morning. During exams, this place is packed with stressed-out, sleep-deprived students. With the students gone for the summer, I guess this place is pretty dead.”
“Thank you for bringing me.”
“I figure it’s time to introduce you to some of my hangouts.”
“Oh, why is that?”
“We’re going to be spending more time together.”
“Really?” Nattie said, her tone was cautiously eager.
Princess sighed. “Why do you make me say everything twice, silly girl?”
“I’m sorry. It’s just…why?”
“Because if I leave you alone, you get into all sorts of trouble,” Princess said, shaking her head reproachfully. “Besides, you belong to me, so I plan to keep you for a while.”
Nattie’s eyes widened and her mouth opened in disbelief.
“Unless you don’t want to spend time with me,” Princess added.
“No! I mean…yes! I’d love that. I’d really love it.”
“You belong to me, right?”
Nattie nodded, looking around nervously for witnesses. There were none – the booth provided privacy and the place was almost empty in any case.
“Say it.”
“I…belong to you,” she mumbled.
“Sounds like maybe you’re ashamed of it.”
“No…not at all,” she said, then more boldly, “I belong to you.”
Princess gave a brief nod. “After all, you’re wearing my signature, right?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Show me.”
“Ma’am?”
“Let me see it.”
Nattie hesitated and gave another quick look around then slowly raised the bottom of the sweatshirt up over her breasts, baring them, exposing the signature over the right nipple.
“Mmm. You have very pretty breasts,” Princess said.
“Thank you ma’am. Can I cover them again?”
“Stay as you are.” Princess looked into Nattie’s eyes, reached across the table and took Nattie’s left nipple in her fingers and began rolling it gently. Nattie turned a deep red. Princess etiler escort fondled her subject until she saw the server coming with their breakfast. By that time, Nattie’s eyes were closed, her breathing a little more rapid.
“You can cover now,” Princess said, and Nattie was decent – though flushed – when the server dropped off their coffees and bagels.
“Thank you for breakfast,” Nattie said, reaching for her coffee.
“Nattie?”
“Yes ma’am?”
“Do you want me to touch the right one too?” She pointed at the other woman’s right breast.
There was a tellingly brief pause as Nattie met her eyes, then slowly raised the sweatshirt again and leaned forward. “Yes…please…”
“Tell me why.”
“Because…it feels good.”
“Even in public?”
“Yes.”
“I guess I can touch you whenever I want? Wherever we are?”
Nattie’s eyes closed again. “Yes.”
“Because it feels good?”
“Oh, yes.”
“And because you belong to me.”
Nattie nodded. “I belong to you.”
Princess reached across and grasped Nattie’s right nipple, and gave it the same gentle attention the left one had received.
“When I ask you to show me my signature, what are you going to do?” Princess asked in a low voice.
Nattie’s eyes were still closed. “I’ll…show you.”
“How?”
“I’ll…expose my…my breasts.”
“Anywhere? Even in public?”
She nodded, breathing fast.
“Why?”
“I belong to you,” Nattie said, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
Princess extended the caress by another few seconds, then withdrew her fingers. “You can cover now, Nattie. The coffee’s getting cold.”
Nattie’s disappointed sigh expressed how much she’d been enjoying the naughty attention. She lowered the sweatshirt into place again.
They ate in silence for a little while; neither of them had eaten since supper the previous day and the coffee and bagels took the edge of their hunger.
“May I ask where we’re going after this?” Nattie asked, between bites.
“The Student Wellness Centre at the college. We’re going to find out what help is available. You know – to help you get through the grieving process.”
“I’m not a student.”
“When it comes to this stuff, they’ll help anyone. It’s important.”
“Just being close to you…spending time with you…is really helping to take my mind off it. With you I can let go. Leave all that pain behind. I don’t have to think about it anymore.”
“Not thinking about it will do for now, I guess, but I’m not sure that’s a long-term solution.”
“I just really love our time together,” Nattie said.
Princess nodded. “I’m enjoying it too. But I need to know you’re in a good place – even when I’m not around.”
“I’m not thinking of using the pills anymore. So you don’t have to worry…”
Princess smiled at her, then reached out and squeezed Nattie hand. “I’m really glad. It’s a huge relief.”
“So we don’t really need to-“
“We’re going,” Princess said, in a voice that allowed no argument.
Nattie breathed a resigned sigh. “Yes ma’am.”
“When we’re done, I have a treat in mind for the afternoon,”
“I’d love that,” Nattie said, with more enthusiasm.
“And if you’ve made a mess of my track pants, I’ll give that bum of yours some more attention, too.”
Nattie’s renewed blush told Princess all she needed to know.
The finished and Princess paid, then it was back in the car for the ride to campus. The Student Wellness Centre was closed for the summer break, but Princess took a number of self-help pamphlets from a card-holder just outside the Centre. There was advice and a phone number.
A little disappointed but not discouraged, Princess drove back to Nathalie’s house. Had it only been twenty-four hours since she’d last been there? So much had changed in such a short time!
“Heels, Nattie,” Princess snapped when they were both inside.
“Oh, right!” Nattie knelt and removed the white heels.
Princess walked to the kitchen and sat at the table. She tapped the table top with nail of her index finger. “I want the rum and the pills here, now.” Her voice was impatient and no-nonsense.
“Yes ma’am,” Nattie said, then hurried out of the kitchen. Princess heard the other woman in the bathroom, then the living room, and then she entered the kitchen and put an unopened forty-ounce bottle of rum on the table, followed by a small plastic pill bottle.
There was silence for a few moments, then Princess picked up one of the pamphlets from the Wellness Centre and began to read. After a moment she looked up at her subject.
“Why are you standing?”
Nattie looked uncertain. “What would you-“
“Kneel here until I decide what to do with you.”
“Yes ma’am.” The other woman settled uncomfortably onto her knees on the laminate floor.
“Honestly…how can I read with you looming over me?”
“I’m sorry.”
The pamphlet contained useful information, and she was pleased to discover she’d already done several of the suggestions. Don’t leave the person alone, keep her away from whatever she planned to use to endanger herself. Common sense stuff, for sure, but it was nice to know she’d been on target so far. Professional counseling was also recommended, and there were some numbers listed that Princess planned to call.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32