Chapter Fifteen
I’m back,” Violet says, opening and closing the door with a bang that makes Poppy twitch. “I hope you obeyed me,” she says.
“I did,” Poppy says.
“When you speak to me, address me as Mistress Violet. So—answer my question again.”
“I did … Mistress Violet.”
Violet gets to work organizing her equipment: a pair of scissors, a paddle, a cat-o’-nine-tails, and ankle restraints. She returns to the supply shelf for a ball gag, just in case her sexual servant suddenly becomes chatty. People are unpredictable when they’re aroused.
She picks up the fabric shears and hopes, for Poppy’s sake, that the long-sleeved black T-shirt she’s wearing is Old Navy and not Vince or James Perse.
“Stay very still,” she commands, holding the shirt taut by the edge and lining up the scissors. Violet makes sure that Poppy feels the cold press of the metal against her skin as she makes the first cut.
“What are you doing?” Poppy says.
Violet continues cutting.
“What did I tell you about speaking unless spoken to? I’m going to have to punish you for that. And, not that it’s any of your business, I happen to be removing your shirt. Your hands are tied since I obviously can’t trust you, so I have no choice but to cut it off.”
Once the T-shirt is severed in half, she parts it like a curtain and looks at Poppy’s perfect breasts.
Violet recalls, now that she’s thinking about it, seeing Poppy’s frumpy girlfriend at the show a few times.
It’s confusing; Poppy might be the most beautiful girl at the club.
So what’s with the subpar pussy at home?
Poppy squirms, as if sensing or guessing she’s under scrutiny.
Well, Violet is feeling impatient herself.
She unzips Poppy’s jeans and tugs them off roughly.
Then she takes the scissors to her underwear, and Poppy gasps when she grazes her pussy lips with the cool metal.
Violet wonders if her pussy is moist and inviting, if she’s thoroughly wet already. By this point, most people are.
The truth is, Violet isn’t sure what she wants to do with her. She decides she’d like to see her ass. She unties her wrists and tells her to turn over on her stomach.
Poppy hesitates.
“Now!” Violet barks.
Poppy rotates her body slowly.
“I shouldn’t have to ask you twice. Now get up on all fours.”
Poppy scrambles fast onto her hands and knees. Violet retrieves the wooden paddle and with a heavy arm smacks it violently against Poppy’s left ass cheek.
“Ow!” Poppy says.
“No talking!” She smacks her again. “That’s for your disobedience.”
Poppy’s body stiffens, bracing itself against the blows. But she stays silent. Violet walks around to the opposite side of the bed. “Lie on your stomach,” she says.
Poppy flattens herself on the bed, and Violet arranges her arms so she can retie them to the bedpost. She locates her ankle restraints and uses them to secure Poppy to the bottom of the bed, her legs spread wide apart.
Violet admires the alabaster skin of her ass, marred with two angry red splotches like states on a map.
She knows Poppy is tense with anticipation for what will happen next, so Violet does nothing.
Finally, she says: “I’m going into the other room.
Again, you had better not move a muscle. Do you hear me?”
“Yes, Mistress Violet,” Poppy says, her voice soft.
Violet moves from her perch on the edge of the bed to the doorway. For ten minutes, she silently watches Poppy. Surprisingly, she doesn’t make any discernible movement. Violet is disappointed—she’d been looking forward to punishing her.
She strides “back” into the room, making sure her heels on the hardwood floor announce her presence.
“Did you move?” Violet asks.
Poppy shakes her head.
“I can’t hear you.”
“No,” Poppy says.
“No what?”
“No, Mistress Violet.”
“Good girl. As a reward, I’m going to stick my finger in your pussy. Would you like that?”
“Yes, Mistress Violet.”
Violet sits on the edge of the bed, angled so she has a perfect view of Poppy’s cunt.
She licks her thumb and index finger, then presses her thumb into her pussy, easing it in and out slowly.
Poppy moans, and Violet extends her index finger deep into her asshole.
Poppy’s anus clenches slightly in resistance, but she soon gives in to it.
Violet holds her finger inside her ass while working her thumb inside her pussy, occasionally slipping it outside and up against her clit.
Poppy breathes hard and occasionally murmurs something unintelligible.
Violet decides she wants to see her breasts and unties her restraints. Poppy raises her head questioningly but knows better than to speak.
“Get on your back,” Violet commands. Poppy complies, still blindfolded, moving clumsily, as if unaccustomed to having the use of her limbs. Once she’s in position, Violet reties her arms and restrains her ankles. She then strips off all of her own clothes.
“Don’t move your head. Keep that blindfold exactly where it is,” Violet says. Poppy is still. Violet climbs onto the bed, straddling Poppy, her pussy poised inches above Poppy’s mouth.
“Stick out your tongue,” Violet says. Poppy complies, and Violet lowers herself onto Poppy’s mouth. “Lick my cunt,” Violet says. Poppy does, eagerly running her tongue along her outer lips. Violet takes her head and presses her mouth deeper.
Violet feels nothing. The numbness is familiar and excruciating.
But then she closes her eyes, and suddenly, it’s Mallory’s glossy dark hair fanning out on the bed beneath her, Mallory’s delicate features pressed against her cunt.
It’s Mallory’s mouth sucking on her clit, pressing her tongue deeper, until Violet is able to feel some release.
Violet withdraws from Poppy’s mouth and begins fingering herself.
She remains poised above Poppy’s face, so Poppy could sense her and no doubt smell her with no idea what she’s doing or will do next.
Silently, Violet works her own clit until it is hard as a bead.
She moves her body lower so she’s aligned with Poppy’s navel, and while she brings herself closer to orgasm, she stares at Poppy’s breasts.
She imagines how she’ll touch them, twisting and pinching the woman’s nipples until she begs her to stop.
And then she comes, silently, but with a violent shudder that shakes the bed.
When she recovers—it could have been five seconds or a full minute, she turns her attention back to Poppy.
“Did you like eating my pussy?” Violet asks, pressing a finger back inside her.
“Yes, Mistress Violet,” Poppy says quietly.
Violet observes her carefully: Poppy’s cheeks are flushed, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths, her breasts full, her nipples erect and rosy.
She slides forward so she can reach Poppy’s breasts with her mouth.
While her tongue teases Poppy’s nipples, occasionally punctuated with a sharp bite of her teeth, Violet switches the rhythm between Poppy’s legs so that she has her thumb on her clit, one finger moving in and out of her.
Within seconds, Poppy cries out, an orgasm shuddering through her, her thighs gripping Violet’s wrist like a vise.
When Poppy is finally still, Violet unties her arms and feet.
“You may take off your blindfold.”
Poppy slowly, with fumbling hands, pulls off her blindfold. Her blue eyes focus on Violet in a mix of lust, awe, and yes, fear. She sits up, her cheeks flushed, her eyes bright. She looks like someone who’s been properly fucked for the first time in a while. Maybe ever.
“I suggest you don’t mention this to anyone,” Violet says, striding naked to her closet and pulling on a black silk robe.
“I won’t,” Poppy says.
“After all, you’re the one with a girlfriend.”
“She can’t find out about this!” Poppy said.
“I would imagine not. But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re my bitch now, and when I call you for a good fuck, you’d better be available to me. Understood?”
“Um, yes. I mean, I think so.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes, Mistress Violet.”