Lesbian MILF Seductress: Chocolate

My pet-to-be:

Go and get the package I left on your front step. I expect you to wear these at church as well as the thigh highs I left you earlier. Any disobedience to my expectations will result in a punishment.

Mistress B

Was she serious? Bree and I attended the same church, and I'd often been dismayed by some of the outfits she wore in the house of The Lord. A black woman like myself wearing white nylons would stand out like a sore thumb. Plus, it was obviously an implied racial shot to add to her so-called superiority over me.

Although I was still horny, my anger at her racist assumption had me responding:

Not going to happen!

Clicking Send, I shook my head at the nerve of this teenage girl as I tried to wrap my head around what I'd just witnessed with Carrie and Mrs. Blair. Even though I was angry, it only intensified my burning down below, and for the third time today I went to pleasure myself.

I had barely begun, trying the wand and vibrator on lower speeds, when I was interrupted by the doorbell for a second time.

Angrily, I again grabbed my robe and went downstairs ready to blast Bree. Yet, as I opened the door without checking the peephole, I was shocked to see Mrs. Blair standing in front of me looking nervous. Now dressed respectably.

"May I come in?" she asked, her hands literally shaking.

I looked around to see if anyone was watching, I don't know why, it was too dark outside to tell anyway, before agreeing, "Sure."

Once inside, she said, not making eye contact, "I'm sorry you had to see that."

"It was quite shocking," I admitted, although with my pussy dying for me to finish what I'd barely started, the thought of her eating my pussy popped into my head against my own better judgement.

"I understand," she nodded, looking like a child waiting to be scolded.

"How?" I asked, the question that continued to repeat itself with each revelation.

"It's a long story," she answered, "which I'll tell you another time. I only have a couple of minutes."

"Do you have to go back to your Mistress?" I asked sarcastically.

"No, I have to get home to my husband," she answered, only adding to the complexity of her sin.

Knowing she was here for a reason, I asked, "So why are you here, Mrs. Blair?"

"Mistress Bree sent me over to tell you something," she revealed, in a whisper.

"You have more than one Mistress?" I questioned.

Ignoring my question, she said, her eyes finally making eye contact with me, "Obey or else."

"Obey the pompous demands of an eighteen-year-old?" I questioned.

"It's not that simple."

"How so?" I asked, just as her phone rang.

"Damn it," she cursed atypically. "I have to go."

She turned to leave before adding, "Resistance is futile, Joan."

I scoffed, "That's ridiculous."

"That's what I thought too," she said sadly, before adding, "but Bree is irresistible, and she doesn't take no for an answer."

"That, I find hard to believe," I said, as she opened the door.

Looking directly at me, for the first time not furtively with a look of guilt but earnestly, speaking from the heart, she replied, "Is it? It won't be long until you'll find it dead easy to believe."

She walked out and closed the door behind her as I stood there, pondering her words.

Frustrated, exhausted, and strangely still horny, I locked the door, returned to my room and my bed. My cunt was on fire, in contrast to how I thought I should feel after all that had transpired. I slammed the vibrator into my cunt, wishing I had a man to fuck me hard and take charge, like I desperately wanted. I pumped the buzzing toy furiously as I put pressure on my clit with the wand. My eyes closed, a litany of women paraded through my mind: Nadine, Katherine, Carrie, Mrs. Blair and Bree. Unlike my first two orgasms, which came quickly, this one seemed to refuse to erupt, even though I had both toys on high and was fucking myself as hard and fast as I could.

Frustrated, and somehow knowing what my body wanted, I imagined myself submitting to Bree. I moaned, "Yes, Bree, make me your pet."

The submissive words brought me new pleasure and I continued to go along with this forbidden submission to a white teenager as I declared:

"Oh yes, Mistress."

"Oh God, so close."

"Fuck your slut."

"Make me your bitch."

My orgasm so close, my need to erupt turning me into something I wasn't, I screamed, "My white Mistress, please make me your black pussy slavvvvvve." My legs stiffened, my body convulsed, and my orgasm finally seared through me with the intensity of a thousand suns. I pulled the toy out of my cunt as my cum flooded out of me like a raging river. I lay in bed for several minutes, the pleasure draining my whole body and leaving it helplessly weak. Groggily, my body and mind way past exhaustion; I eventually staggered to my feet and went into the bathroom.

Naked, I stared at myself in the mirror. What had just come over me? Why did humiliating myself get me off? Why can't I resist Bree in my fantasies? Why did I say what I'd said?

Deciding I would confront her tomorrow, I finished in the bathroom and went to bed... drifting off into slumber within seconds.

...

Waking up the next morning, I showered and, deciding to make a statement to Bree, I dressed all in black. I don't know why I did it, but I decided to check my email, knowing it could only be more condescending gibberish from the teenager. To my surprise, there was no email from her, and I wondered if she was done playing this game with me, or if she had something else she intended next.

I was just getting ready to leave, when I heard another knock on the door.

Sighing, I opened the door and wasn't surprised at all to see it was Bree. She walked in, brushing past me, and said, "You don't follow instructions very well."

"Get out of my house," I ordered, annoyed by her entitled attitude.

"Go get dressed as I instructed," she ordered.

"Not going to happen," I responded firmly.

She sighed, "You're a lot more stubborn than most of my conquests."

"Conquests?" I questioned. "You're disrespectful enough to call me a conquest?"

"Yep. I always get what I want," she continued, walking towards me.

"Well, I guess that winning streak just came to an end," I shot back, "my condolences," ironically, not at all unnerved by her threatening persona.

"I admire your confidence," she smiled, now standing directly in front of me.

"Not sure I care," I replied, maintaining my confidence.

"Ever eaten pussy?" she asked.

"No," I answered firmly.

"Mmmmmm, a cunt-licking virgin," she smiled, her tone and the pursing of her lips frustratingly sending a tingle down below against my will.

"Leave my house," I demanded.

"Knees," she retorted, not budging.

"I'm not some mindless bimbo," I countered.

"I know that; I don't go after bimbos, they're too easy," she smiled, before adding, "do you think Mrs. Blair and Nadine are bimbos?"

"No," I admitted, not wanting to condemn them, "but that doesn't mean I'm going to follow their lead."

Her hands cupped my breasts, "You have nice tits."

I slapped her hands away. "How dare you!"

She chuckled softly, "Denial is so adorable."

"Just what am I supposed to be denying?" I questioned, again getting drawn into her game.

"That you want to submit to me," she responded confidently.

"I don't want any such thing," I responded, although last night's fantasy flashed through my head.

"Is your cunt wet right now?" she questioned.

"Yes, it's soaking wet thinking of submitting to you," I shot back sarcastically.

She stood firm as she quipped, "I know that was an attempt at sarcasm, but I also know that within every sarcastic jab there is truth."

"Says the voice of worldly wisdom from an eighteen-year-old," I responded, trying to use her age against her.

Ignoring my words, she said with a sly smile, "Tell you what. If your cunt is dry right now, I'll walk out this door and never bother you again."

I froze as I felt wetness leak out of my pussy and into my panties. I should have responded with a quick retort like I often did in court when a witness threw me a curveball, yet I wasn't able to say a word.

"Your silence is convincing evidence in support of my allegation," she opined.

"Leave," I repeated, although it was weaker than my earlier demand.

"Just let go of your inhibitions," she purred.

"Bree, leave right now," I repeated, desperate to get her out of here as images of last night's fantasy continued to play in my head.

"So is your cunt dry?" she questioned.

"Bree, I'm not going to ask you again," I threatened firmly, using all the resolve I had left in me.

"It's a simple yes or no question," she said, not moving. "Being an experienced lawyer, I'd think you would understand that not answering a direct question implies evasiveness, so in conclusion, your jury of one has determined that you are indeed wet."

I scoffed, although I avoided eye contact, as my pussy got wetter, "You're trying to out-lawyer me?"

"No, just weighing the evidence," she shrugged, as she darted her hand quickly under my skirt and touched my undeniably wet pussy. "Hmmmm, case closed."

I suppressed my knee-jerk reply about her evidence being inadmissible because of the lack of a search warrant, and simply moaned at her touch, it being ages since anyone except she had touched my pussy.

"Unfortunately, I need to get to church," she smiled, tapping her finger on my clit, making me twitch, before she added, "as do you."

She leaned in and kissed me quickly, before moving away and ordering, "I expect you to change into what I ordered you to wear, my pet."

Her words 'my pet' sent another tingle to my pussy as I stood still, paralyzed with apprehension.

"You'd better hurry, aren't you a greeter today?" she asked.

"Just leave," I whispered, mortified by my weakness.

"See you soon," she smiled, with a wink. At the door, she turned back and added, "Obey, my pet."

She finally left, and as soon as the door closed I dropped to the floor. My cunt burning, I rolled onto my back, thrust my hand inside my pantyhose and began frantically rubbing myself. I imagined just giving in and obeying Bree, allowing myself to let go of, as she called them, my inhibitions. The orgasm built quickly, and I was so focussed on getting myself off that I didn't hear the front door open, nor did I know I was being filmed as I screamed as my orgasm hit me, "Yesss, Mistress Bree."

I quickly learned that the door had indeed opened, and that I was being filmed when I heard Bree say, "I don't recall your Mistress Bree giving you permission to come."

I opened my eyes to see Bree standing over me, her phone filming me. "P-p-please don't film this."

She put her phone away, repeating her earlier instructions, "I expect you to change into what I instructed you to wear," and again she left.

I quickly stood up, mortified that I'd given into the temptation and doubly mortified that she now had blackmail evidence against me. Glancing at the clock, I realized I had to get going as I was indeed a greeter at church today. Afraid that if I disobeyed Bree, she'd show someone the video of me pleasuring myself, I went upstairs, got undressed, put on the white panties and white thigh high stockings she'd ordered me to wear, and slipped on a white blouse with a fun flower-patterned skirt that was long enough to cover the stocking tops. I grabbed a pair of flats and hurried out the door, my stress level reaching new heights.

I considered not going to church at all, but in addition to my being a greeter, it was the day of the new parishioners' luncheon which I was in charge of. I prayed that obeying her ludicrous clothing expectations would keep her from outing me in public... since I had to assume she wasn't planning to out herself.

I got to church a couple minutes later than I was expected, hurried in and apologized to the other three greeters, who all gave me surprised looks before pretending that a black woman wearing white nylons was normal.

The next twenty minutes flew by as I chatted with friends, parishioners and a few new people, forgetting that I was dressed as instructed by Bree... until Bree and her mother arrived, both dressed much more conservatively than I was.

Carrie leaned in and whispered, "My dear, you look good enough to ass-fuck."

I gasped, not remotely expecting such words from her, even though the last time I'd seen her she'd been essentially naked.

Bree put a couple of round things in my hand and ordered, "Put these in your cunt, or else."

Before I could respond, she sauntered into the sanctuary with her mother, neither of them looking at all like the devious sluts they really were. Sadly, it was I who looked like a slut in my current attire. I slipped into the restroom to see what the balls were. In a stall, I opened my hand and saw two metal balls. I sighed. I considered not obeying, but sensed that if I didn't obey Bree's every command going forward, the video of me pleasuring myself would go viral. I needed to get her alone, to confront her one on one... but church wasn't the place to do that. Reluctantly, I pulled my panties down and awkwardly inserted the metal balls in my frustratingly wet pussy. Why does she always make me so wet?

Once the balls were in, I left the stall and found that with each step, they moved around inside me, causing teasing pleasure. I returned to my greeting spot, and I didn't dare move a muscle from the waist down until the church service began.

Slowly, cautiously, trying to be casual, I walked as smoothly as possible into the worship area, feeling shame at what I was wearing, why I was wearing it, and from what was inside my vagina. As I watched Mrs. Blair conducting the choir, the image of her naked and on her hands and knees flashed into my head. I glanced over to where Bree and her mother were sitting together, and Bree was staring at me. I quickly looked away, shame coursing through my very being. All during the service, every word the minister said about sin seemed to be directed at me, and yet I often zoned out, since every time I shifted my legs, the balls inside me shifted, serving as a constant reminder of my current predicament. All through the service, I tried to figure a way out of this complicated mess, but every idea that came to my mind required Bree to show some compassion... a trait that in her, seemed unlikely.

The service coming to an end, I left early to prepare for the new parishioners luncheon. Every movement sent teasing pleasure surging through me, and I wasn't sure how I was going to make it through the entire luncheon.

I was just about finished getting the cold cuts ready, when the minister's wife, Allison, asked, "Are you okay, Joan?"

I answered, "Oh, just tired," which was true.

"Why don't I finish up for you?" she offered sweetly.

Thankful to get out of there and get myself off, the balls really beginning to get to me, I agreed, "That would be great. I really am not feeling too well."

"No problem," she said, continuing where I'd left off. "Why don't you just go home and get some rest? I can handle the luncheon."

I thanked her and headed out. Unfortunately, I had barely left the room before I came face to face with a smiling Bree. She asked, "Going somewhere?"

"Home," I answered.

"I think you have something of mine," she said.

"Please, not here," I whispered.

"Of course not," she replied, "but where?"

"At my house," I answered quickly, thinking I might have some control of the situation in my own home.

"And what do you plan to do for me once we meet at your house?" she asked slyly.

I wasn't sure what to say to this question. Yet desperate to take this conversation away from the church and to a less potentially career-ending location, I whispered, "Obey."

"Without hesitation?" Bree questioned.

"Yes," I whispered, terrified of her outing me.

"Yes, what?" she asked, testing me.

I didn't want to say the words, yet I knew this wasn't the place to be defiant, "Yes, Mistress," I whispered.

"Good girl," she smiled, "I'll meet you at your house in half an hour. Leave the ben wa balls in place until I remove them myself."

Yes, Mistress," I nodded, thankful to get out of there with my secret intact.

"You're welcome," she responded, as if she were doing me a favour.

I exited the church and went directly to my car. After taking a deep breath, I drove home. Once there, I wracked my brain for ways to convince Bree not to blackmail me. Half an hour became an hour, as the trepidation continued to rise in me and no real plan formulated.

Then came the inevitable knock on the door.

I walked to the door, the balls again reminding me of my submission to her. Taking a breath, I opened the door and she asked with ironic courtesy, "May I please come in?"

"Yes," I nodded.

"Yes, what?" she questioned, not moving.

"Yes, Mistress," I reworded, wanting to get her alone.

She walked in, carrying a duffle bag with her. Once I'd closed the door, I said, "Bree, we need to make a deal."

"Agreed," she said.

"I need that video deleted," I clarified.

"Knees," she ordered, ignoring my words.

"Please, I... " I began, but was cut off.

"Knees, now," she repeated, her tone not angry, but firm.

I obeyed, a gush of wetness leaking out of my pussy and into my wet panties.

"Crawl to me," she ordered.

I again obeyed, my body leading the way, even as my mind attempted a return to rationality.

Standing over me in her three-inch heels with a gloating expression on her face, when I reached her she lifted one foot and ordered, "Remove my heel, my pet."

I obeyed, hands trembling.

"Lick the sole of my foot, my pet," she continued.

I pleaded, "Please, Bree."

She sighed, "Stand up."

I did.

"Don't move!" she ordered, her tone firm as she stood up, pulled my skirt down to the floor and repeated more gently, "Don't move."

My body trembled with both anxiety and excitement, the conflicting emotions confusing me even more.

She said, as her fingers touched my wet panties and I moaned, "You've been lying to yourself."

"I'm not a lesbian," I pointed out, which was true, although my fantasies during the past couple of days had blurred that notion.

"Neither am I," she shrugged, "but I'm definitely bisexual."

"I'm not bisexual," I clarified.

"You just didn't know you were," she corrected, looking hypnotically into my eyes as her finger slid past my panties and directly into my pussy.

"Aaaaaaaah," I moaned, having someone else's finger inside me bringing out emotions I hadn't felt in a long time.

"Sooooo wet," she purred, as she pulled out one of the balls and popped it in my mouth.

I coughed and almost choked on it, I was so surprised.

She retrieved the second ball and sucked it into her own mouth. "Hmmmmmm, not bad," she said a moment later as she took it back out of her mouth. When she offered her hand to my mouth, I dropped the ball into it. "I have to ask. For someone who isn't a lesbian, or even a bisexual, why is your cunt soaking wet? It's so lubricated right now I could probably fist you."

I stammered, "I-I-I can't explain it."

"Oh, but I can," she smiled, "you're a submissive who dresses as if she isn't."

"It's not that black and white," I countered, and then realized the irony of my phrasing.

She laughed, as she plunged her fingers inside me, "Oh, I think it's very black and white."

"Hmmmmmm," I moaned, again not able to control my body's reactions.

"Now you've got me curious," she pondered, as she slid a third finger inside me. "Have you ever been fisted?"