Finding Mistress Arlene

"I'm Misty. I'm Arlene's assistant." She was incredibly cute. I wondered how she got a stripper's name.

"Assistant?"

"Arlene brings me on board whenever she has a new ... uh ... resident ... in her house. I was told you were starting today."

"How many times have you worked here?" I imagined she had a load of personal information about Arlene. Maybe for the article.

She looked at me funny. "You know that Arlene doesn't want anyone to discuss the details of her personal life."

"Of course. My mistake." Of course it wasn't a mistake but I didn't want it to get back to Arlene that I had been trolling for personal information.

She lowered her head as to emphasize the importance of what she was going to say. "You don't want to making those kind of mistakes."

Message received.

She looked at my overnight bag, which was embarrassingly a plastic shopping bag from a local supermarket. "I'll take that from you. Mistress Arlene will provide all of your clothes during your stay." She reached out her hand.

I handed her the plastic bag and she held the handle as if she were holding a dead rat. "I'll put this in a safe place and return it to you at the end of your stay. You can give me a list of the personal items you require and I'll pick them up today. Let me show you to your room."

I couldn't resist asking her. She was cute as a button. "You're not ... umm ... with Mistress Arlene ... are you?" It was a clumsy question but I'm sure she knew what I was getting at.

"Do you mean am I one of her subs?" She giggled. "No, I'm really just her assistant. But sometimes ...". She stopped herself before finishing her sentence.

She walked into the house and I followed. We went up a flight of stairs and she assigned me to the bedroom at the top of the landing. I wondered why I was put in a different room this time, but didn't bother to ask. I didn't think Misty would know anyway. "This is your room." We walked into it. She opened the curtains, and the waning light from the setting sun cast a reddish hue in the room. It was small but comfortable. A queen size bed, dresser, chair with ottoman and reading light and a connected bathroom. She opened the closet door and flicked on the light.

"Here's your wardrobe for your stay. I've taken the liberty of buying you new underwear and bras as well. They're in the dresser. Hopefully the shoes will fit."

"How did you ..."

"When you were here last I'm sure you didn't see me, but I was here, and took your measurements and sizes from your clothes and shoes and I'm sorry if ..."

"No ... no ... that's fine. I'm just amazed that you've stocked my wardrobe." I flipped through the hangers. Casual dresses, cocktail dresses, silk blouses, and wool skirts, all still with the tags on them, neatly arranged in a line. I spotted a leather collar hanging from a hook. I recognized it immediately as the collar Gwen gave to Arlene. I looked at the engraving on the plate. It now said "A.D. & C.N." She added my initials to the collar. It was a nice touch.

Misty noticed me fingering the collar. "Mistress would like you to wear the collar whenever you're in the house. Did you want to put it on now?"

"Sure." I handed to her and then stood in front of the bathroom mirror. She stood behind me and fastened it around my neck. I looked in the mirror and adjusted it as I felt the cool leather pressing against my neck. It was comforting. It told me that both of our hearts also belonged to Gwen.

Misty spun me around so I was facing her. "Perfect. Now let me lay out your clothes for today. Mistress Arlene will be waiting down in the living room."

She stood next to the bedroom door, awaiting a reply.

"Thank you Misty for everything."

She shut the door behind her. I looked at the bed and saw she had picked out a turquoise blue cocktail dress, slit up the side almost to my waist and designer heels. There were no undergarments. I threw my clothes in the corner for Misty to retrieve later and stood nude in front of the mirror, looking at myself with my collar on. For more times than I could count over the past two weeks, I wondered what the hell I was doing. As my father said to me, "Cassie, why don't you find a good man and settle down and start a family?" With my Domme waiting downstairs for me, I doubted his advice would be heeded anytime soon.

I pulled the dress up and fussed with the zipper until I got it all the way up. Without a bra, my breasts made an obvious outline in the clingy dress. It fit perfectly. I tossed the cover of the Christian Louboutin box and unwrapped four inch heels in a color that matched my dress. It felt naughty wearing the form fitting dress without any underwear. I looked at myself in the full length mirror mounted on the back of the closet door. Sexy. Very sexy. I wiggled my hips in an exaggerated motion, watching my boobs threaten to bounce outside my dress.

I girded myself to leave the safety of my bedroom into Mistress Arlene's private castle. I had no idea what pain and delights awaited me as I took a deep breath and walked gingerly out of the bedroom on my new pumps. The heels clicked on the hardwood floor and reverberated down the stairwell as I walked side saddle down the stairs, trying not to fall. I think it was the second time I wore heels this high and the first time it did not turn out well. Fortunately Misty was at the bottom of the stairs, no doubt predicting my discomfort, and offered her arm so she could give me a bit more confidence in walking to the living room.

I slowed for a moment to gather myself and then with my best posture entered the living room. Mistress Arlene was sitting in a wingback chair facing away from me, so I could only see the top of her head. There was no mistaking that gorgeous head of chestnut brown hair. She rose out of the chair and turned to look at me. Her face froze for a moment as she took me in, and then her eyes traveled up and down, a smile emerging on her face.

"You look lovely tonight, Cassie." I beamed at the compliment.

"Thank you ..." My voice trailed off. My eyes went instinctively to the floor.

She took three steps toward me, stopping only inches in front of me. Her left hand reached behind me and cupped my butt cheek, giving it a firm squeeze.

"It's Mistress, my pet." She squeezed my ass cheek again. I could feel her hot breath against my ear as she leaned forward.

"Thank you Mistress," I recited with reverence.

"That's better, my pet. I must say you do look lovely in that dress. I used the buyer for my clothes to find these for you. She did a better job than I expected." She ran her fingers down my bare arm, making the fine hairs stand on end. For a moment I felt like she was the wolf and I was the prey. Then she broke the tension. "So how do you like your new clothes?"

"I love them Mistress. They're beautiful and they fit perfectly. I've already tried most of them on but ..."

She waved her hand. I stopped.

"I think you've answered my question. How are the shoes?"

I tried the short and concise approach this time. "They're beautiful, and challenging to walk in."

She managed the beginnings of a smile at my last comment.

"I want you to accompany me to meet a couple at their house. They know about our new arrangement and they're eager to meet you. They know you're not fully trained so they won't expect you to be. I've told them that I've given you a collar, and that means within the limits we've agreed on, my friends are welcome to you as well."

She paused for a moment, as if to ponder whether she should continue. She did.

"I want to see your natural reactions to this situation. You're free of course to do what you like, but if you want to maintain our arrangement you'll have to accommodate the wishes of my friends. To reassure you, the guests are my friends, and they'll want to preserve our friendship."

I was being thrown into the deep end. She wanted to see if I could swim.

She took my hand. "Shall we go?"

* * *

Lucien and Marie were nestled together on the sofa, enjoying another glass of Marie's family's wine from their estate in Bordeaux. Lucien held his glass up to the light, viewing the opaque red liquid. "Arlene should be here any minute," he said, swirling his glass.

"It was such a shame, wasn't it?" said Marie, resting her hand on her husband's thigh.

"It's still hard to believe. But sometimes things work out for the best. I haven't seen Arlene this excited in quite a while. I'm happy for her." Lucien carefully placed his half-empty wine glass on the coffee table and slipped his hand inside his wife's blouse, cupping her breast. "She speaks so highly of her new sub Cassie."

Marie let out a contented sigh, moving her hand up higher on her husband's leg, touching the head of his flaccid penis through his fine wool pants. "Rosalie was so ..."

"young, and beautiful, and perfect ... " added Lucien, finishing the thought.

"So beautiful," said Marie dreamily, unbuttoning Lucien's pants and helping him slide his pants down to his ankles. She gripped his heavy penis, the muscles tightening and hardening in her petite hand. She slid to her knees in front of him and lowered her head, sucking in the mushroom head and pushing it against the back of her throat.

"so fucking perfect ..." Lucien growled, as Marie stretched her lips to encircle the base of his rock hard cock, feeling the tingling that told him he would soon be coming in his wife's mouth.

* * *

Misty drove Arlene's Vantage while Arlene and I sat in the back. It was a beautiful car, rich in appointments like Gemma's Maybach, though sleeker in appearance. Arlene stared forward for most of the ride, though occasionally she would slide her hand on the seat toward me and allow me to put my hand on top of hers. I stole many glances towards her, drinking in her image of a fair complected woman with delicate facial features going down to a slender neck and a glimpse of her cleavage. She was wearing a cocktail dress like mine, but she was also wearing a bra. She also had heels like mine, but walked in them as if she was wearing a pair of comfortable sneakers.

We were about twenty minutes away from our destination when Arlene turned at an angle in her seat to face me. It was the first time since we got into the car that she overtly acknowledged my presence. Our eyes met and she held out her finger in front of her. My eyes followed it as it touched the inside of her knee, her legs spread slightly apart, and then up her thigh, bunching up her dress against her waist and revealing her uncovered pubic patch, neatly trimmed, the ends of the cropped hairs already bristling with her musky essence. I watched her finger slide between the lips of her cunt, digging into it so it emerged coated with a viscous fluid.

I watched her finger come out of her cunt and then waved in front of my face. I looked into her eyes. She nodded. I leaned my head forward and licked her finger like an ice cream cone, tasting her honey. It was ambrosia to me.

I felt good about my decision to be with her. She understood what I wanted more than I did. There was no place I wanted to be than by her side, allowing me to reveal my inner self, without judgment.

The car exited the freeway and came to a stop at the light at the end of the exit ramp. There was no privacy panel in this car and Misty could hear, and if she wanted to, see everything that was transpiring in the back seat. My eyes went back to Arlene's finger, now moving again between her legs and resting there. I looked into her eyes again and there was silent assent. I knelt on the thick pile carpeting and put my hands on the outside of her legs, feeling the softness of her alabaster skin, and then kissed the inside of each thigh before dipping my head and laving her pussy with my tongue.

I stopped for a moment to catch my breath and her hands were suddenly clutching my head, pressing my lips hard against her sex. I gasped for a breath and licked her labia, then sucked each plump lip into my mouth before fucking her with my tongue. Her hips moved against me, her movements becoming more urgent as her breathing became ragged.

"Hfff, hffff, hffffff," her breath went as she tried to suppress her orgasm. Her body tightened, time stopped for a moment, then she relaxed, sinking into the soft leather of the bench seat. My face was slick with her wetness.

There was silence, but for the sound of the tires on the road.

She caressed the back of my neck, her breathing slowing. She lifted her hips to straighten her dress. I felt a shiver as her fingers danced across my juice smothered cheek. "That's a good pet." Her fingers pinched the back of my neck. I winced. "A very good pet."

* * *

The car came to a stop in front of a house that was built in the fashion of a French chateau, with a formal garden in the front and a broad expanse of raked gravel leading up to it. The car lurched forward as it was slammed into "Park" before it came to a complete stop. I caught myself by grabbing the armrest until the car stopped rocking.

"Misty ... shit," I uttered, loud enough for both of them to hear. It just came out. What can I say, Misty was a shitty driver.

Arlene looked at me with a cold stare. It said "I'm going to deal with this later." She let herself out.

The door slammed shut and I was left in the quiet of the luxury sedan, unclear on what I was to do next. Misty sat motionless in the driver's seat. I decided it was nothing. Someone would get me when I was needed so I resigned myself to sitting there not knowing.

Unfortunately the car windows didn't have a line of sight to the house's entrance, through I could hear muted voices. The hosts sounded like a man and woman with the same foreign accent, probably French. I heard Arlene's voice. Then the door to the house closed. It shut with a substantial "thud." Misty decided to get out and left me there by myself. She left the doors unlocked and the keys in the ignition. These were good friends.

I'm sure it was only minutes, but it seemed like hours, that I waited in the car as the car's temperature got colder and I started to get chilled in my skimpy clothes. I was starting to think about going to the front door when the door next to me opened and a man peered inside. He was probably the French guy I heard talking earlier. Maybe early 30's.

He seemed very pleased to see me as he looked at me. He was polite enough not to stare, but he couldn't have helped seeing that I wasn't wearing a bra in a very revealing dress. He gave me a hand to help me out of the car so I was standing next to him. I'm about 5'6" and he was probably four or five inches taller. He was wearing well-tailored clothes, though his expensive white shirt under his crooked sport coat was wrinkled and his zipper was half down. Did I say he was handsome? He was handsome. Like Jude Law in The Talented Mister Ripley. And he clearly had dressed in only 30 seconds before meeting me. I went from bored to intrigued.

"You must be cold," he said hurriedly, taking his jacket off and throwing it over my shoulders. I saw his breath billow out in front of him as he talked. His hand was resting on my hip, but not in an overtly sexual way. I pulled the jacket tighter around me, drawing the lapels together in one hand.

"Thank you" I said in a shaky voice, my body starting to shiver in the cold of the night. He grabbed my hand and helped me as I navigated the sidewalk and the stairs up to the porch of an absolutely gorgeous house. I was still unsteady on my heels, so his help was appreciated. When we stood on the porch he noticed his zipper was down and saw that my eyes were focused on his crotch. We shared a glance, and I saw his baby blue eyes and I knew I was going to be having sex with him soon. I was starting to get wet, and I could feel a cool breeze blow up my pantyless dress.

* * *

"I am happy," said Arlene. "And when you meet Cassie you'll know why."

"She might be getting cold, waiting in the car by herself," said Lucien. His Italian wool pants were still resting on his feet but now his cock was hanging limply between his legs. No one seemed be particularly concerned that Lucien's lower half was exposed and Marie's tits were still outside her dress.

Marie got up to refill Arlene's wine glass. Her nipples practically touched her glass as she leaned over to pour. She made it a full pour. Already Arlene's second.

"Your wine, I presume?" said Arlene, holding the full wine glass up in thanks. She lowered it to inhale the essence in the gossamer thin wineglass. She swirled it and her nose pronounced it fit to drink. She tipped up her glass and took in a mouthful. The deep red liquid filled her mouth with flavors of cherries and plums. The tannins danced on her tongue and the roof of her mouth.

"Of course Arlene. Nothing but the best for you. It's the 2000 vintage, one of my favorites." Marie picked up her glass and tapped it against Arlene's. "And I'm so happy for you." There was an uncomfortable silence as Marie caught herself before she mentioned Rosalina. Arlene acted as if she didn't notice her catch herself.

Arlene straightened up in her chair to talk. "Well, Lucien, I think we've caught up and I don't want my dear to catch the death of cold out there in the car. Can you go and fetch her?"

Lucien stood up and quickly hiked up his pants and stuffed his wayward shirt inside his pants. He grabbed the sport coat that was draped over the back of a chair and walked in his shoes until his feet slid inside. "Back in a minute." He left the living room in a hurry.

Marie got up from her chair and sat next to Arlene on the love seat. Her hand rested on her friend's bare thigh. "Tell me. Is she the one?"

"I don't know. She's so rough. But I see so much of me in her." The Domme paused before revealing something new about her submissive. "I think Gwen also saw a lot of me in Cassie."

The brunette arched her eyebrows. "So she's met Gwen?"

"It's a long story, but the answer's yes. I know it'll be difficult not to compare her to Rosalina ...". Arlene's voice trailed off at the mention of her former submissive. Marie was relieved that Arlene mentioned Rosalina's name first. It was inevitable that one of them would start crying before the evening was over.

Marie hadn't heard Arlene mention Rosalina's name in weeks, and knew that maybe Cassie was someone who was beautiful, smart, had spunk, and a submissive streak a mile long. The four of them used to dream up games that involved Rosalina in some sort of sexual act that would leave everyone breathless. Rosalina's zest for life made everyone smile. But best of all, her submission to Arlene was complete.

The front door thudded shut and then there were two pairs of footsteps, one's unmistakably Lucien's, and the other a set of high heels. Marie could hear the heels scaping against the floor tiles in the front entranceway. Someone who didn't wear them often. Marie stood up, zipped up her skirt, smoothed it, buttoned her blouse, and sat in a chair opposite her longtime friend, clutching Arlene's hand in hers.

* * *

The living room was exquisite. The furniture looked to me like French antiques and the windows were covered with curtains made from a floral brocade with a royal blue theme. It looked like a movie set for a period piece in the 1800's. Two women were sitting on a sofa next to each other holding hands -- Arlene and a shorter, attractive woman with dark hair. The woman stood, her thin frame open in a welcoming stance.

"You must be Cassie," the dark haired woman said, hugging me tight as if she'd known me for years. "I'm Marie." She let go of me and held me at arm's length, looking at me with a critical eye.

I had to kick myself to answer. The whole situation was a bit overwhelming. "Pleased to meet you. I'm Cassie," I said, trying to hide my nervousness. My eyes darted back and forth between Marie and Lucien, who was now sitting in one of the chairs.