A Weekend To Remember

This is a confession. It's not mine, but that of a very close friend. She gave me permission to share it with people on Literotica. Of course, I changed names, dates, and character descriptions.

*****

It was the summer of 1988. I was married but my husband was with his brothers in Massachusetts on a fishing boat, leaving me alone for a month. He knew I was bisexual. He knew I was submissive. He didn't know I was going to spend a weekend with my Mistress and her husband up at their summer camp/cabin near Lake George.

I was 24 and full of desire and willingness to please her. I had very few hard limits - no gun and blood play, no knives, no scat. She knew I was going to be alone and informed me that she was having a weekend with some friends up at her cabin and wondered if I had time to accompany her and her husband. I told her that I did and would love to be there. She gave me the directions and commanded I arrive before seven in the morning. When I asked her what I should wear and bring to wear, she just smiled. I took that as a command that I was not to wear anything.

I followed her orders: I arrived at her nice large log A-Frame by 6:30 AM. There was just one car around, one belonging to Mistress. I parked away from it and pulled out my bag of toiletries.

"Excuse me," she called out from the porch. "You're wearing clothes."

"Sorry," I said loudly. I removed my shoes, shorts, blouse, bra and panties, put them in the car.

"You can wear shoes and flip-flops," she added before I left the car. I thanked her. I put my shoes back on and grabbed my flip-flops. I saw her husband smile at me from behind her. She approved of how I looked.

Mistress was Candace Norwood, a 53-year-old woman I met while working in a law office. I was a secretary and she was a client. She came in on a hot summer's morning, angry at the world. I smiled and her emotion changed.

She came to my desk and looked at me, into my soul. Her big blue eyes were warm and somewhat erotic. She put her purse on my desk and placed both hands on top. She leaned into me and smiled. "Thank you."

I looked up at her, confused as to why she would thank me. I hadn't done anything, just looked at her and smiled.

"My name's Mrs. Candace Norwood. I have an appointment with Mr. Childers. Could you be a dear and tell him I've arrived."

There was something in the way she spoke to me. Something inside of me knew immediately that she was a Dominant. I had been with female Dominants before but none had an immediate effect on me like Mrs. Norwood.

I picked up the phone and told Mr. Childers that Mrs. Norwood had arrived. He had me send her in immediately.

"He'll see you," I told her. She smiled and walked away, leaving her purse. I turned to tell her what she had done, but she just shook her head. I took it and put it under my desk, next to mine.

She came out an hour later and appeared at my desk, asking for her purse. When I leaned to get it, she corrected me. "A good submissive of mine gets on all fours."

I didn't need to hear it twice and did as instructed. I had a rush of excitement over come me. I was wet. I popped my head up, looked over the top at her. She smiled and told me to meet her for lunch. We discussed my submitting to her.

She settled me into a small room, just a twin bed, dresser, nightstand and lamp. I put my stuff away and went to her. I assumed my position at her feet: Sitting on my haunches and awaited direction.

"You're going to be used by me and others," She told me in a motherly tone. "I know I've never shared you before, but this weekend, you will be."

I looked up at her and was ready to ask her by whom, but she anticipated it. "A few of my closest friends, ones I've known since grade school. They know I am into the Lifestyle and have heard of you."

Mistress petted my head and continued. "I've given them permission to use you as they like, but within the set limits you've told me. They won't hurt you."

Given permission, I spoke. "Thank you, Mistress. May I ask if I will be fucked by men as well?"

She thought for a moment before answering. "Yes, by my husband, but only if he behaves." He looked at her and shook her head. "If my best friend brings her boy-toy, you'll fuck him and his big dick."

Inwardly, I hoped the man would come. I did love big cock. "Thank you, Mistress."

She put her hand on my chin and forced me to look up. "You know I won't hurt you or allow them to do so. If, at any time, you feel uncomfortable with what's going on, you tell me and I'll stop it." She exhaled and continued. "I do love you, Little One. I enjoy your body and I don't want anything to happen to it."

I smiled and thanked her. Her husband got up and asked if she wanted any breakfast of coffee. She told him to make her and I coffee.

"We'll have it on the back porch," she told him.

At 10, the first one of her friends arrived, a woman Mistress' age. She was Miss Phoebe, a high school English teacher and a good, close friend of my Mistress.

"Come over here and let me get a good look at you," she commanded. I did as told. She took my chin in her hand and had me look into her blue eyes. "I hear that you lick pussy whenever and where ever commanded. I will test that later." She reached down and kissed me on the lips. Hers were soft like Mistress' lips. She smiled at me and reached down with a hand. She touched my pussy lightly.

"You're wet already," she cooed. "Good, I like that." She brought her finger to her mouth and tasted. "And you're sweet."

"Show Phoebe to her room," Mistress commanded. I bowed and took the bag from her friend's hand. I brought her up to one of the two guest rooms on the second floor. I opened the door and waited for Miss Phoebe to enter before I did. I placed her bag on a chair and turned to leave. She put a hand on my shoulder, keeping me in the room.

She whispered. "Between just you and I, do you really like being submissive to women?"

I didn't hesitate. "Yes, Miss Phoebe, I do."

She smiled broadly. "Is Candace the oldest woman you've been with?"

"No, Miss Phoebe, she's not."

She kissed me on the forehead. "I'll use you in a bit, have you eat me. It's been so long since I've had an orgasm. I have to freshen up some and get out of my clothes."

"I'll be around, just call for me." I left the bedroom and walked down stairs.

Mistress called to me, another woman standing by her side. "Little One, when you have a moment."

I slid up to her, went to my knees, and spoke. "Yes Mistress."

She introduced me to her friend Jennifer, a woman that was striking in her looks, and had an air of confidence that was equal to that Mistress had. Her smile was broad and warm, but something in her dark brown eyes made me take pause. Her eyes looked at me with desire, or was it lust? Whichever emotion it was, I knew I was going to enjoy.

"Take her to her room," Mistress commanded. I leaned over to pick up Miss Jennifer's luggage. I felt a warm hand on my bottom as I did.

"You're right," she began. "Her ass is perfect for smacking." She didn't finish the sentence before I felt the sting of her hand.

I yelped, but kept quiet. Mistress expected me to accept all spankings without comment, just soft moans. I couldn't help the yelp, since it was unexpected. I picked her bags up and walked to the stairs. I waited for her to follow me. A man had joined her.

Mistress spoke to me, "This is Simon. He's my friend's toy. Don't worry, my dear, you won't be submitting to him, but you might be asked to clean up Jennifer after they fuck."

I smiled: It had been a while since I had cleaned up a cream pie.

"I think she likes that idea," Miss Jennifer said. She grabbed my ass and pushed me towards the stairs. "Bring me to my room."

"Yes Miss Jennifer." I carried her bags and quickly made my way up to the second floor. She and her Simon followed close behind. I arrived at their room and opened the door.

Her boy toy smiled and took the luggage from me. "We have it from here." He followed her into the bedroom and closed the door. I stood for a moment, unsure of what to do next. Mistress' voice left me without doubt.

"Come down here, I need my cunt licked."

"Yes Mistress," I called out as I bound down the steps. I rushed to find her. She wasn't inside the cabin. I slid open the glass doors that led to the porch. I found her, laying on a chaise lounge, a towel under her, her legs spread wide.

"Eat me bitch," she commanded.

I dropped to my knees in front of the chaise and crawled up, kissing her flesh as I did. I looked into her eyes and saw the twinkle I grew to know meant I was doing well.

The skin on her inner thigh was creamy and soft. She moaned as my mouth touched her. She grabbed my hair and pulled me up.

"I sat eat!"

I put my lips on her wet, well-trimmed pussy and forced my tongue out and into her. She didn't moan: she took my hair and pulled it. I felt a surge flow through me. My breath was lost. I didn't stop to pleasure myself: My needs were secondary to hers.

"Come eat it like you mean it," she commanded. Never wanting to disappoint Her, I placed my hands behind her ass and pulled her closer to me. She finally moaned, showing pleasure in what I was doing. Inwardly, I smiled: I loved to please and pleasure Mistress.

Mistress lay on her lounge, her breathing slowly returning to her. I stood and wanted to return inside; I needed something to drink. Miss Phoebe blocked my path.

"I love the way you get into your work," she joked.

To me, it wasn't a joke: it was the truth. I knew my place in the Lifestyle, just someone's young lesbian submissive, but I did love what I did and was going to do. Mistress was kind and caring. She would never hurt me, not physically or emotionally. I knew she was unusual in the BDSM world, but that's why I loved her.

I demurred and looked down. "Thank you," I cooed to Miss Phoebe.

She put a hand on my chin and lifted my head. "I could use you soon, but I need to get something to eat. I'm famished."

"It's understandable." I looked to Mistress. She was resting, her eyes closed. I smiled in her direction and followed Miss Phoebe into the kitchen. I needed something to drink.

"How long have you been with her?" she asked.

I reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of beer, one Mistress knew I'd like to have ice cold. "I've been her submissive for a year. " I took a sip and found a towel to sit on.

"Where did she find you?"

I looked at her and smiled. "She found me at a 'play party.' I was there as an unattached submissive, having been released by my previous Master when His wife decided He could no longer play."

"That's interesting. I've never seen any unattached subs at parties I've attended." She walked towards me, her smile somewhat evil. "If I had seen you before she did, I would have made you mine."

She reached out, ran her fingers through my hair, and leaned into me. She whispered, "You would have been delicious."

I took a step back and looked towards the door. "But you didn't. Mistress did."

Miss Phoebe smiled at me a retreated a few steps. "That she did." She inhaled deeply. "I am going to use you later."

"I know that, Miss Phoebe. I hope Mistress gave you a copy of my guidelines. I have hard limits and will never cross them."

"Yes she did. She told me to not push you on your limits, that I should just enjoy you."

I smiled and gave her a hug. "I'm glad that you understand."

"Yes, I do. I know that you're not mine, and I have to treat you as I'm allowed." She kissed my forehead. "But make no mistake; I know I don't have to be gentle."

A wry smile came to my face. "I know, but you can't leave marks or give me bruises."

Her eyes widened. "It would be a pleasure to leave some welts on your fine ass."

"But I do not like them," I interrupted. Mistress would have punished me, most likely with orgasm withholding or being humiliated publicly, but Miss Phoebe wasn't Mistress.

She spoke softly. "I understand." She gave me a welcome small smile and asked, "May I ask why you don't like marks and bruises?"

I answered her quickly: it no longer bothered me. "My father would spank my sisters and I all the time, leaving bruises and marks. It wasn't done out of love. He would send us to school with our legs bruised and cut."

"I am so sorry."

"I'm over it. He was a fucking bastard that hated us for not being boys." I sighed and took a large gulp of beer. I smiled and looked at the half-finished amber. "It took a lot of therapy and loving from Mistress to help me get over it."

She nodded and smiled. "That's great. I promise I'll follow your guidelines and not push them."

I thanked her, took my beer with me, and headed to the lake beach. There was a chaise lounge on the sand with my name on it.

I had a book next to the chaise and read some before I finished the beer. I was unsure, should I get another and keep reading or see if my Mistress was awake? I grabbed the empty bottle and stood, ready to get another but stop. I saw Gerald, Mistress' husband, approaching. He was smiling and holding one of my beers.

"She thought you could use another," he told me.

"She doesn't want me?"

He shook his head. "She's in bed, resting. She told me that you wore her out."

I smiled broadly and accepted the beer. "Thank you." I took a sip and asked, "Did she tell you if I had any other tasks?"

He shook his head. "The only thing she said was for you to rest up and relax."

I thanked him again and returned to my reading.

"Come with me," Mistress told me after dinner. I followed her up to the master bedroom, my eyes looking down at my feet. She stopped at the threshold, allowed me to go in first. She closed the door. She sat me on her bed and joined me.

"You know that you can refuse my friends, without fear of consequence," she told me.

I thanked her and asked why she told me this.

"Phoebe wants to uses your ass as a whipping post."

I felt my pussy become wet: It had been a long time since I had endured a good leather spanking. Mistress hadn't pounded me in a long time: she was afraid that she'd mark and scar me. However, from what she told me, her friend was an expert with it.

"I know Mistress. I will remember that." I took a deep breath and spoke. "What if she refuses to listen to me?"

"Then I would deal with him." Anger and reassurance showed on Mistress' face. It made me feel protected.

"Thank you," I whispered. She hugged and held me tight. Mistress realized me and headed out of the room. At the threshold, she stopped and turned to me.

"I won't allow anyone to hurt you or do anything that you do not wish to perform. Your hard limits are just that, hard and absolute."

I questioned her reasons for being overly protective now. She smiled and shook her head. "I just want you to be happy."

I interjected, "Pleasing you makes me happy."

She returned to me and kissed my forehead. She put her hand on my cheek and smiled. "That's why I love you," she cooed before leaving me in her bedroom.

I sat for a few moments, smiling that I had a Mistress that cared for me. I stood in anticipation to leaving, when Miss Phoebe walked in. She had removed her clothing, showing me her body. I was astonished how well she had hidden the size of her breasts. They were large.

She must have seen me lick my lips. "You're not the only one that's thought they were delicious," she cooed.

I noticed she carried a black leather whip and held a riding crop in her hand. She closed the door and smiled. "Your guidelines say you love hard ass play," she told me.

I squirmed on the bed, knowing what was to come.

She placed the whip next to me and flashed a devilish smile. "Do you believe leather will touch your ass?"

I nodded slowly.

She held the crop up for my inspection. The mere thought of it stinging my ass or other places made me wet.

"I've been told that you like this used on your ass, against your breasts, and especially on your pussy. Is that true?"

I nodded quickly: I couldn't hold back my excitement. Miss Phoebe leaned in and kissed the top of my head. "Lay on your stomach," she commanded sweetly.

She didn't need to repeat herself. I slipped fully onto Mistress' bed and lay on my stomach. I tried not to think of what was to come: I stayed still and did not squirm.

"Tell me how this feels?" she asked. She placed some leather across my calves and slowly brought it up my legs.

I inhaled sharply: leather makes me so horny.

"Tell me how this feels," she whispered. "Be honest with me."

"It feels wonderful," I quickly answered. It was difficult for me to stay still, not grind into the bed.

"I know where you want to feel it next." She moved it up to my ass, moving it across my naked flesh. Punishment would come to me if I moved: I stayed still. I bit my lip. I controlled my breathing, not allowing her to hear me gasp.

"Do you like this?" she asked. Miss Phoebe unfurled the lashes and ran them across the tops of my thighs and ass. I nodded.

"Would you like to feel its sting, Lauren?"

I nodded.

"Tell me what you want done."

"I would like Miss Phoebe to use my ass as she fits. I would love for Miss Phoebe to use her whip on my ass."

"If that is what you wish," she spoke. She didn't allow me to ready myself.

The sting of the leather across my ass flesh was exquisite, a feeling that always made me instantly wet. I stayed still, didn't move, and waited for another bite from her whip.

The second one hit my left cheek, harder but so deftly. I gasped at the nip. I let out a small but audible moan.

"I see you like that." She hit the right one as hard as the left. The bite felt wonderful. I put my face into Mistress' sheets and groaned.

Miss Phoebe gave me two more bites before stopping to touch her handy work. Her naked hand against my ass was wonderful. She increased the pain. I pushed back against her hand: I wanted it to hurt more.

"Don't worry, Lauren, I'll make it hurt," she answered my unasked plea.

Miss Phoebe leaned into my ear and licked it. "Would you like me to feel how wet you are?"

I nodded quickly.

"Spread your legs," she commanded. I opened them as wide as I could. Without warning, she ran a hand over my pussy. "You are wet."

I wanted to scream for her to insert something inside, a finger, the crop handle, the whip handle, a brush handle, anything. I knew better: I kept quiet.

She stung me again, harder; my ass felt the leather across both cheeks. I released a soft, "Oh God," in answer to the pain.

Miss Phoebe whipped me repeatedly. I moaned and didn't care if allowed to or not. She hit me twice more before stopping. She gently caressed my flesh, allowed her fingers to touch my lips.

I pushed back against her. She slapped my ass. "Don't," she harshly said.

I gave a weak apology.

She ran something hard against my pussy. "Is this what you'd love inside of you? Would the submissive like that?"

I whimpered, "Yes, please Miss Phoebe."

I felt a hard leather handle pressed against my wet opening. I resisted the feeling to push against it, to have it enter faster. Miss Phoebe slowly entered me, teasing me. I want her to fuck me with it, to put it in and fuck me. I wanted her to leave it in while she whipped my ass, make me cry with pleasurable pain. I wanted so much.

"Does this feel good?" she asked, slowly pushing the crop in to me.

"Uh huh," I mumbled.

"Do you want more?"

I nodded quickly. "Yes Miss Phoebe."

I felt the handle inside of me, five inches at least. It was making my head swim with pleasure. She slowly withdrew a few inches before pushing it back.

I wanted to scream for her to use me, fuck my cunt with it. I wanted to tell her to leave it and hit me hard with the whip. I was to the point where if she left marks on my ass, I wouldn't complain.