Caroline Takes Charge Ch. 06

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Aunty Caroline took charge of my wardrobe for the domination magazine shoot. She had already let porn magazine publisher Theresa and her photographer into the dungeon downstairs to set up and now up in her bedroom she was arranging my outfit for the photo shoot.

“What we need,” said the 38-year-old former Penthouse Pet, “is a non-fussy outfit that states quite clearly ‘She may be a trainee dominatrix, but don’t dare fuck with this girl’. Now, where do we start?”

Aunty’s first move was to draw my hair back into a severe ponytail.

Then aunty threw me a purple satin quarter cup bra. “That should fit, let’s see how it works on you,” she said, as I adjusted the garment to cup my 34-inch breasts.

I admired myself in the mirror. The bra was tight across my back, but it did wonders for my heavy-set breasts. “I love it,” I told Caroline.

“Now for a slightly theatrical touch,” said my aunt, picking up some lipstick and smearing it over my areolae, which are quite large. The effect was stunning – garish red around my nipples, which stood thick and brownish pink.

“Here’s a matching suspender belt,” said aunty, throwing me this time a shiny purple, deep-cut suspender, which must have been three or four inches deep. It gleamed sexily over my hips.

The stockings she gave me to go with the purple belt were black, with seams down the back. For shoes, aunty presented me with a pair of Cuban-heeled shoes in bright Man Utd or Arsenal red.

Aunty Caroline checked me out, then announced: “I’d like to make love to you right now, but we have a photo shoot to attend.” And after checking that I had my sheet with the biography I had invented for myself, she led the day downstairs.

In the torture chamber, we found Theresa, naked save for a pair of black stilettos on her feet, and a black leather mask which hid her features. “Hi Caro, hi Sam,” she greeted us, happily. “Sorry about the bizarre mask, but I make it a point of never appearing as myself in any of my mags.

“Now, Sam, let me introduce you to the lovely Melissa, who’s going to make you our feature ‘Dominette of the month’ for Trainee Tormentors.”

A shortish blonde, with golden hair which tumbled in a casual cut across her shoulders, held out her hand in a wave. “Hi Sam, I’m looking forward to working with you,” she smiled.

Melissa was in her 30s I guessed – later I found she was 34 – with large breasts (later I learned they were 38s!) encased in a gleaming black satin bra. Her pussy was covered by a matching black thong, cut high and dragged tautly against her pussy. She had piercing blue eyes, a slight suntan and was barefoot.

“Hello,” I smiled back, already feeling comfortable with her.

“Nice outfit,” said Melissa, professionally eyeing me, I suspect. “Good hauteur, if that’s the right term.”

“Don’t give up your day job, dear Mel,” laughed Theresa. “Right, let’s get to work!”

I then handed my bio sheet to Theresa. “This is what I’ve come up with, Theresa, I trust it’s OK,” I told her.

This is what I had put, in the style of Trainee Tormentor magazine:

Dominette’s name: Lucy Lash. Birthday: April 10, 1985. Occupation: Trainee dominatrix. Location: Brighton. Hair: Brown. Eyes: Brown. Vital statistics: 34-23-34 Height: 5ft 2in Likes: Double domming. casino şirketleri Dislikes: Slaves who waste time. Favourite food: Italian. Fetishes: Watersports.

The last entry in the Dominette of the Month bio was always a quote from the lady concerned – although I guess a lot of them are written by the magazine’s editorial staff.

I’d decided to come up with my own and my quote was “Being a dominette means never having to say you’re sorry.”

“Great, I’ll read it later,” said Theresa as I handed her my potted biography.

Melissa now moved towards her spotlights and after arranging them to her satisfaction, she announced: “I’ll get the low shot up her quim first, then we’ll get some of you being punished, Theresa.”

And with that, Melissa picked up an extremely expensive-looking camera and lay on her back on the floor. “Stand above me, darling,” she ordered and I placed my feet on either side of her torso.

Melissa looked through her viewfinder, then said: “Not aroused enough, we need more moisture there.” And with that she raised herself and licked my pussy with a very gentle and very wet tongue.

“She must like you, Sam,” said Theresa, “or she’d have sprayed you instead.”

I quivered as Melissa’s expert mouth licked for what I knew was longer than necessary, before she lay back and started snapping.

I don’t know if you’ve seen the issue of Trainee Tormentors that I feature in, but this pose resulted in one of my favourite shots – looking up my shiny blacking stockings, to my semi-shaved pussy with my prominent piss flaps, then up further to my upthrust boobs supported by the fantastic quarter-cup bra. In the one they chose for publication, I’m pointing down at the camera with a stern “Don’t piss me off slave!” look. I love it.

Next, Melissa got the 45-year-old busty publisher to adopt various poses of submission as I stand around her, wielding a cat o’ nine tails, or a cane, paddle or buggy whip.

Aunty Caroline then fixed Theresa up in the flogging frame and I used the cat on her back – very lightly, but not lightly enough to avoid leaving some tell tale whip marks.

In some pictures, Theresa is shown licking my pussy, but my favourite picture of them all is the one on the title page of the feature underneath the headline “We love Lucy – but don’t dare fuck with her!”

It shows Theresa in the upper position of the push up punishment, her breasts hanging down, nipples erect, a slight sheen of perspiration on her naked body. I’m standing with a black leather paddle in one hand, and one of my Cuban-heeled shoes is perched daintily on Theresa’s buttocks. Fuck, it’s such a sexy shot!

“Right,” Melissa announced after taking plenty of pictures of me pretend punishing Theresa, “now I’m going to get some solo shots. Thanks Theresa, Caro, you can go.”

Aunty Caroline and Theresa then left and Melissa arranged herself on the see saw we’d used the previous day for Theresa’s punishments and told me to stand above her face. As I did I noticed that her camera still lay on the floor.

“Don’t you need the camera, Mel?” I inquired, and then I felt her hands cup my buttocks.

“I don’t need any camera for what I’m going to do now, darling Sam,” I heard her reply, her voice quieter and throatier than before.

And now her exquisite tongue casino firmaları was at work on my pussy, flicking first into my cunt, then moving up across my sex trench to my clit. Then she was flicking the piss flaps, before plunging into my cunt again, and finally delving to my anus, probing it with thrusting tongue flicks.

“Fuck Sam,” she gasped, after her initial foray at my minge, “you taste so fucking sweet, so fucking tasty, yum!” And then she was at work again, making me pant as she attacked my clit.

“Oh yes, Mel, that’s the story, suck it, lick it, kiss it, I can’t get enough, please bring me off, bring me off!” I heard myself plead as her oral adoration brought me up to the peaks of excitement and then tumbling over the top as my climax crashed through my groin.

I moaned and grunted in lust as Melissa slowed the pace of her cunnilingus, then I made to move from her, but still she gripped me firmly by the buttocks.

“You’re not going anywhere, missy,” she informed me, “there’s another taste treat I want from you and I’m staying down here till you give it to me. Come on, let it go!”

And instantly I realised that Melissa was also a piss freak!

“Ohmigod, you’re into watersports,” I said, somewhat obviously, as I now realise.

“Watersports, golden showers, pussy piss, you fucking name it, I like it,” gasped Melissa, “now piss, you lovely little bitch, piss!”

It must have been the panting urgency in her voice that got to me, because although I didn’t think I had the slightest need to urinate, the next thing I knew I was letting go a stream of yellow liquid into her wide-open mouth.

For 25 to 30 seconds I concentrated on giving her a nice long drink, then I was done. Melissa looked up at me with beatific smile on her face.

“Fucking sensational,” she said from her position on the see saw, “tasty, very tasty, the nicest nectar there is!”

Melissa climbed from the see saw and pulled down her thong to reveal a box with light brown hair, through which two generously fleshy piss flaps descended.

She smiled then placed the thong over my face, arranging it so that the wetness of the gusset lay against my nostrils. The powerful aroma of femina odora sent my senses reeling.

“Nice?” Melissa asked, her eyebrows raised in question mark.

“Oh fuck, you smell great, Mel,” I replied, savouring the fantastic feminine fragrance invading me.

“That’s just the appetiser,” she laughed, “get ready for the real thing.”

Then she pushed me so I was lying on the see saw, my head comfortably resting on the rubber pillow. Her hand pulled away the thong, which was a pity because it smelled so fucking fantastic.

But then my regret was replaced with ecstasy as her aromatic pussy lowered itself to my face. What an odour! It was strong, but so fucking feminine! I didn’t want her face sitting on me to ever end!

“Oh suck me, my sweet Sam, suck me!” Melissa moaned as she began to writhe and grind on my sweating face, due to the spotlights in the torture chamber, which she had left on.

“Yes, my cunt, then my anus, cunt, then anus,” she instructed, as my tongue went to work on the moistness of her minge.

I obeyed her commands, licking first the lush wetness of her vagina, then probing deeper to lick around the musky sweetness of her arsehole.

Next güvenilir casino I flicked back across her cunt, along her labia lips before contacting the engorged clitoris. Although it was my first attack on the “little man in the boat”, she started to buck and heave as I worked there.

“Flat tongue me, flat tongue me, I’m going to come, yes, come on Sam, I’m coming, I’m coming!” she cried as I brought her to a climax that must only have taken a minute or so!

My hands caressed her lovely lush bum, and I sensed she would not wish this part of our seduction to end before I had reciprocated in tasting her nectar!

I was right, because after her panting had subsided and she had regained her breath, Melissa spoke in a now calm voice: “Time for drinkies, Sam. That OK with you?”

For a reply I traced my tongue along her minge and whispered: “Try and stop me!”

And her response was a strong, thick stream of yellow urine, which I caught dead centre of my mouth as she released the frenzied flood.

Her salty piss flowed for what seemed like ages, but in reality could only have been some 30 seconds. I swallowed it all down, then licked her urethra, tasting more of the tanginess.

“Open up, I’ve got more,” she gasped, and once more I accepted a piss present, only this one was much shorter and less strong than her initial flood.

I stood up and kissed Melissa on her warm mouth, inhaling the aroma of my pussy as I did. “Switch those spotlights off before they explode,” I told her, “then we can go up to the spa pool.”

Naked, we climbed into aunty’s spa with its wonderful panoramic views out over Brighton. We were cuddled together, breasts sliding over each others, smooching when Aunty Caroline and Theresa arrived from upstairs.

As they entered the spa opposite Mel and me, I noticed that both were somewhat flushed and for a moment felt a pang of jealousy that aunty had been unfaithful to me.

It was a thought I instantly dismissed since I had just enjoyed a minor flirtation with the lovely Melissa – if performing cunnilingus and then indulging in urine drinking may be described as “a minor flirtation”!

“Hello young lovers,” smiled Aunty Caroline, as she slipped into the shoulder depth water. Theresa, I noticed as she climbed into the pool, was sporting a rather reddened backside!

“Shoot concluded satisfactorily?” asked Theresa, as she cuddled next to my aunt.

“It went swimmingly,” said Melissa. “In fact, I think I’ve got some very tasty shots,” she said, then she kissed me on the mouth, allowing to taste the mixture of pussy juice and piss on her lips. “Wouldn’t you agree, Sam?” she asked, saucily.

“Very tasty indeed, my dear Mel,” I answered. “I just hope I can look as tasty when the pictures are published.”

Aunty Caroline interrupted our double entendres to announce: “Right, we’ll have a nice lunch and some excellent Chablis, then I suggest a session in the torture chamber this afternoon. All in favour?”

“Who’s going to be the slave, aunty?” I queried.

“Well,” smiled Caroline, “it can’t be me because I’m a dominatrix.”

“And it can’t be me,” I added, quickly. “After all, I’m a Trainee Tormentor!”

“And you can count me out,” said Melissa. “It sounds as if we’re going to need some pictorial memento of this punishment session and I’m the official photographer!”

“I guess that leaves me,” said Theresa, in mock disappointment. “Three against one – that’s so fucking unfair!”

“Yes, agreed my aunt, “but so fucking sexy!”

To be continued.

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