Owning Regina: Diary of my unxpected passion for another woman (34 page)

Before I had met Regina, I would have probably had sexual fantasies about some exotic romp in the back seat with him.  But in this case, the thought was nowhere in my mind. All I could think about was that I had the beautiful gazelle of a woman facing the wall, handcuffed in opera gloves, and waiting patiently for me to return and have my way with her. The notion was a thousand times sexier than any fantasy I had thought about with a guy!

The driver pulled up at my office and I asked him to wait while I went it to grab something.  The office was dark, but nobody would care if I let myself in.

When Tucker was with me at work, I was eyeing this roll of industrial quality pallet stretch wrap... basically heavy-duty Saran wrap. I thought it would be fun for bondage games with Regina.

I jumped back into the car with Coast Guard boy and told him to return to Regina’s address. I have no idea what he thought about me holding this 3-foot roll of pallet wrap. Whatever.

He dropped me at Regina’s curb and I headed in, kind of turned on about what I was planning.

I made a beeline for the bedroom.  And there she was, still holding Bettie Page with her nose.  Her ass was still pink and displayed tons of thin whip marks. “Very good job,” I commended her for maintaining the postcard on the wall. “Release the card to turn and kiss me,” I ordered. She did. It was a slow and fun kiss that felt more loving than dark. But then she interrupted the kiss with, “Mistress, may I please use the bathroom?”  Rather than answering, I simply grabbed her by the collar and dragged her coldly to the toilet. As the seat touched her cheeks, she winced with a little yelp from contact with the whipping wounds. I stood and watched her as she peed.  A slave like her is not worthy of privacy.

Her hands were still locked behind her back. Obviously, she wasn’t going to be able to wipe herself.  As her compassionate Mistress, I did the job myself. She was greatly embarrassed that I had to tend to her in such a way, “Please forgive me, Mistress.” But I gave no response at all. When she was all set, I told her to go back to the bedroom.  The real fun was about to begin!

First step, blind fold.  It’s amazing how taking away someone’s sight instantly weakens them and makes them incredibly vulnerable. It suddenly makes one feel dependent and submissive, even if they are in loving and trusted hands.

I found a black scarf in her dresser and wrapped it several times around her head to more than cover her eyes.  Her lips, the only real feature left in the clear, were thirsty with anticipation, wanting a kiss or a ball gag or anything at all.  Really.

But instead of floating a gentle kiss onto them, I took my panties I had been wearing all day and crammed them deep into her mouth in a harsh motion. She was devouring the forceful treatment, showing so with an approving moan as she felt the pressure of the panties being crammed to the back of her throat.

Hoisting up the heavy roll of palette wrap, I started encircling her head many times, leaving just her nose exposed for breathing.  Since the saran wrap roll was wide, I had to funnel the sheet down to a width that would that was only a few inches wide, which made it extra strong and tight around her eyes and mouth.  The black blindfold was becoming less and less visible as the layers of wrap added up. Same with her mouth. I loved the idea that under all that wrap, my panties were still jammed in her mouth.

With her head in a complete state of sensory deprivation, I transferred my wrapping action to her torso.  Her hands were locked behind her back in the gloves, so I just wrapped right over them and around her chest about a million times as tight as I could.  I wanted to leave lower half completely exposed so she could walk and so I could play with her as I wished.

The aesthetic result was extremely pleasing! Regina’s head was completely covered in heavy plastic except for her nose. Her torso was strictly bound under the wrap with so many layers that the definition of her arms and boobs was completely lost.  She was a tight little package with only long legs and a perfect ass protruding.

For my own curiosity, I reached my hand down to gently touch her pussy. Sure enough, it was dripping wet! She was in heaven!

To taunt her a bit, I caressed her clit a little with my left hand while I pinched her nose with my right.  With the lack of air, she started making terrified moans pretty quickly.  She was struggling against the plastic wrap.

But I was just messing with her. Before she could really get worked up, I released her nose and pussy, and gave her a playful slap on the butt. “Don’t worry. I’m not really a cruel Mistress,” I ribbed.

From her closet, I found some really high black pumps. It’s not something she would have normally worn, but perhaps she bought them for some swanky soiree at some point.  Regardless, I wanted them on her feet.  Lifting up her right foot, I had her slip into the shoe, but she started losing her balance and almost toppled over (she wasn’t expecting to be tested on her balance and couldn’t grab anything for stabilization because her arms were in bondage).  I jumped up and held her from falling over. She regained her balance and I slipped her other foot into the second shoe. Her elongated legs looked ever more delightful sticking out of the plastic wrap.

I told her I was going downstairs. But I didn’t think she could hear very well due to the plastic wrap and blindfold fabric over her ears.  So I moved my mouth right next to her ear and spoke loudly and clearly: “I’m going downstairs by the piano.  You need to make your way there by yourself.   Do you understand?” She nodded.  “If you fall, I will no longer be your Mistress, do you understand?” I threatened, then hammered it home with, “YOU BETTER NOT FUCKING FALL!”

I headed out the room and down the stairs, stomping loudly so she would hear me abandoning her despite her covered ears.  But then I tiptoed back upstairs to observe the slave in action.

Due to spinning her in the palette wrapping process, she had no idea which direction was anywhere.  With no vision and limited hearing, she moved extremely cautiously as she began to try to navigate outside the bedroom.  She would take a baby step forward, but before putting weight down, she tested to make sure it was solid footing.  Once assured, she would land the foot and do the process again for the next foot. 

After about 11 such steps, she encountered the wall between the bed and the dresser. She traced the wall to the right with her toe and used it as a guide to eventually get to the doorway.

Using the foot testing method, she finally figured out where the stairs were. Keep in mind, she was in 4 inch heels!  Carefully, she was able to lower herself down on the first stair.  She collected her balance and then went for another... then another.  There was something so sexy about seeing her struggle with each step in such a precarious action. She looked really weak and vulnerable as she teetered to each step. I loved that she neither had vision nor use of her arms.

She managed to get to the bottom of the stairs. It was funny to watch her tap around with her foot to make sure she was, in fact, done with the stairs.  Now she had to figure out a way to get to the piano.  So again, she began trying to trace the wall with her foot in order to make her trek. Just to have fun, I turned the piano bench on its side and butted it perpendicular to the wall so that when she came upon it, she would think it was a corner.

It worked. She met the “corner” and began to follow the turn. But quickly she ran out of piano bench and stood, confused.  Then I quietly lifted the bench away so that she was stuck without her bearings. When she went with her toe to find the wall again, she was lost. 

I interrupted her confusion by appearing out of nowhere and hugging her. Even though her eyes and mouth were blocked, I could tell she was really happy to feel me.  I hugged her dearly and let her know that she did a great job getting down the stairs.

Grabbing some nearby scissors, I cut away the palette wrap from her mouth and removed it all below her eyes, her torso still restrained. Her face was red from both the heat and compression. I pulled my panties out of her mouth, then gave her a brief kiss. “Baby, Are you okay?” I asked. “Yes,” she replied, “ I’m fine, Mistress. I’m really glad you are here with me. My mouth was starting to ache.” I wouldn’t usually refer to my slave as “Baby,” but it just came out that way.

I assured her that she was in loving hands. We kissed for almost a minute, a burning warm kiss. My little package was a great kisser!

After an ample period of personal connection with each other, I turned cold and marched her to the piano bench that I had righted once again. I had her go to her knees and then lay her chest on the bench so that her ass was sticking off the end in a perfectly exposed position.  Once again retrieving the wispy switch, I began whipping her ass in slow and gentle swats that wouldn’t even hurt a baby. It was merely a way to let her know that I had the whip in hand. She welcomed it with sighs of approval.

After maybe thirty strokes, I slowly increased the magnitude, but stuck to the steady metronome-like cadence. Soon her ass was getting redder and her cute little sighs were transforming into moans.  Same tempo, I really started going with the whip. She was starting to wriggle and squirm on the piano bench. Soon, I was scaring myself as her ass started to get dangerously red and welted.  But she was still onboard for whatever I would give.

I stuck the whip in her mouth to hold for me. Of course, she complied, giving that classic “rose in the teeth” image. (By the way, where the hell did that ever come from and what is it supposed to mean?).

To soothe her wounds, I took some tissues out of a box on the end table and dragged them across her reddened ass as lightly as if a cloud were kissing her skin.  At the realization that the torture may have been over, she enthusiastically spoke in garbled words around the whip in her mouth, “Mistress, I love you so much! I love you so much!  Thank you! Thank You! Thank you!  I love you!” I kept the tissue treatment going for long enough for her to calm way down and slow her breathing and excitement. She was in pure bliss.

When she was good and relaxed, I surprised her with a vibrator, placing it lightly on her clit. Apparently, it was just what she needed. She quickly got into a gentle thrusting rhythm and did the best she could to reciprocate with the vibrator. (I mean, her hands were still cuffed and she was face down on the piano bench... the poor girl).

Not even a minute later, she was lighting up in a big time climax. All the energy of the evening was bursting out in ten seconds of violent thrashing and moaning!

And then she just deflated like a rag doll, dropping the stick from her teeth. I really wanted the real Regina back ASAP so I sweetly said
,
"That was some kind of crazy day I had." After a giant pause, she softly sighed a few times as she collected herself and then let out with, “Oh, baby. I feel like a bus hit me. Can we take a bath together and be close?” Of course, I was eager to do the same.  I quickly untied her and hugged her sweetly.

I drew a hot bubble bath and put her right into it. Then I went and made a plate of cheeses, kiwis, and olives to accompany a fresh green veggie juice. She was really grateful and started munching right away as I slipped into the other end of the tub with her. I began rubbing her feet… which caused her eyes to close and head to take rest on the end of the tub.  There was no music, just lovely silence.

After about five minutes of rubbing her feet, she finally spoke with her eyes still closed: “I’m getting my period.” I asked if she was feeling that way during the scene, but she said that the scene must have masked the symptoms. It just hit her like a ton of bricks.  I continued rubbing her feet, staring at her loveliness.  A few minutes later, she was sound asleep.  I mean, REALLY sound asleep, completely spent!

I didn’t know if I should wake her or not, but after about twenty minutes, I gently woke her and dragged her to bed where she hit the pillow and continued right on sleeping. It was 2am. Time flies when you’re riding the emotional rollercoaster of kinky passion. Come to think of it, my period is due in the next day or so also. It’s funny how we’re in sync.

--- SATURDAY APRIL 14 --- A new game goes public

At morning, we woke up together around 9:30, completely relaxed to the core. Regina made us coffee and a poached egg plate and served us in bed where we talked about our jobs, old boyfriends, Tucker, family and life. We shared details of how it felt to each of us when we played “the game.”  Both of us agreed that the feeling, whether playing the dominant or submissive, felt tingly, rushing, vibrant, ethereal and otherwise beyond description.