Owning Regina: Diary of my unxpected passion for another woman

by Lorelei Elstrom

  REGINA

  Yes, Mistress. Thank you for allowing me the privilege of serving you in this way.

  She was very solemn and dutifully took to her task as I turned over on my tummy. She straddled my middle back and put a little weight down as her hands went to work navigating their way up my body. I could feel her energy change when she realized I was completely nude. Her energy felt like she was unbelievably turned on.

  Strangely, she first went for my hair and softly ran her gloved fingers through my hair over and over. At first, I felt a tendency to micromanage her with commands of what to do and not do. The hair stroking was not what I had in mind when I had ordered the massage.

  But before I could fuck it all up by barking out some other instructions, I suddenly felt this vibrant tingling over my whole spine. My hair and had never been touched like that! My mother had never given me the long, sensual hair brushing that we have all seen in old movies. My hair was never sensual to me. But this was different. Regina was starting with her fingers on my cheeks and then slowly tracing the hair from my hairline, then tenderly pulling the hair all the way to the tip. The repetitive feeling of her fingers on my cheeks and then the long stroke was sublime. Her touch was light, but the sensation was grand. She must have sensed that I was particularly enjoying this because she kept at it for a good twenty minutes. I was beyond relaxed. It was putting me to sleep, a sexy sleep.

  The weight of her body sitting on me was perfect. No guy could ever do that without either crushing me or making me quickly fatigue of it. She must have been turned on because her crotch on my back was exceedingly warm. The weight of her loveliness was pushing me into the bed, creating an extremely tight and intimate connection between us. Her dress fell softly on either side of my waist and her panties felt moist against me. I was wishing my back had a penis that was up inside her.

  Finally, she moved from the hair stroking to my neck and upper back. She rubbed me with deep circular pressure, probably mimicking something she liked done to her by a professional masseur. My nude skin welcomed the cool leather of her gloves. I loved that she was blindfolded and just had to feel her way around me. But her fingers had vision. They could see me perfectly naked and found every cell. She sunk her thumbs into my armpits and hit some pressure points that must have been hidden in there. Her touch, for such a delicate creature, was surprisingly strong and forceful as she worked my shoulders.

  Still in the game, my libido was warming up quickly and surprised me by calling her to stop. She did. I coldly told her to rise up a bit so I could turn over. Then she let herself back down onto my stomach. In a whisper, I quietly ordered, “Bring your pussy up here.” And she shimmied up to my face and presented me with herself, sliding her panties to one side. And there I was… finding full passion in tasting another woman. It was my first time. As my tongue made contact, Regina twitched in reaction. Slowly, I sank into her… as she sank back into me in unison. It was a union of slave and mistress… of two loving beings.

  She gyrated gently on my tongue and I moved it to caress her with careful attention. After a few moments, I discovered her secret spot… along with just the right timing and pressure she required. Her quiet whimpers and sighs were guiding me ever so precisely. Feeling her splendid thighs with my hands, I was inspired to follow them along the contour of her body. I took a grip on her waist and helped her gyration toward my mouth. Again, it was my first time ever holding a woman by her waist in such a manner. It was unlike anything I have ever felt with a man. Her waist was trim and so different from that of a man’s. This is when I really noticed how different it was to be with a woman.

  My hands continued upward to her breasts. I cupped each in my hands, stimulating them in the same rhythm she was using on face. I played with the tips of her nipples at the same time. Sometimes I lowered my hands and loosened my hold to let gravity suspend each breast into my palms so I could better feel their curves. My own breasts are much larger and it was exciting to feel another woman’s smaller breasts, a different form that seemed to be every bit as feminine as my own. In this case, size definitely doesn’t matter. Body types are like personalities; each has its unique extraordinary charm. Regina’s breasts felt delightful.

  Her experience must have been heightened by the fact that she was prevented from accessing her sense of vision. She fell into some other state of consciousness that was neither of her nor of the game. She was in rapture by passion beyond what I was reflecting to her. Watching her in this state was also new to me. Never, ever have I been able to please a partner to this level. It was a culmination of both our history together, our newfound psycho-sexual exploration, and the extended trust that comes with a vow of monogamy. And of course, the hotness of being with a woman was surely heightened by the idea that it had always been forbidden in our pasts.

  She blasted into a wail of orgasm that was so saturated with raw passion that it could have only originated in her deepest psyche, an erupting volcano of truth. That sound, that primeval exaltation, could not be anything but genuine. She was mine. In that moment, she was completely revealed to me in all her nakedness, even though she was fully clothed. Perhaps outside the game, she would be more grounded and practical with me, but no words she could say would ever be able to erase my secret glimpse into her very soul at that moment. I saw her. I owned her.

  Envious, I wondered if I was capable of exposing myself so fully. If so, I knew it could only happen with Regina… nobody else.

  Her explosive satisfaction was over, but the game was still on. My id was turned on by watching her, tasting her, and feeling her. I was craving to crush all that beauty and passion. It was time to take charge. “Did I say you could come?” I wondered aloud. “No, Mistress,” she responded as she was coming down. “So why would you pleasure yourself so magnificently without my permission?” I pushed.

  As she started to respond, I cut her off with, “You disgust me. Go in the shower and watch that filth off of yourself.” She hopped to it with a concerned “Yes Mistress.” Once she was behind the bathroom door, I told her to be sure to use the toilet because it may be a while until she gets another chance. I further instructed that after her shower, she needed to present herself to me blindfolded and naked. She understood.

  During her shower, I dressed into my jeans and top, feeling relaxed and alive. I slipped into our brick red boots and pulled them over the bottom of my jeans. It’s a strong look.

  A while later, the shower water stopped and in a minute, Regina emerged from the steamy bathroom in classic angel lighting. As required, she was nude, with just the blindfold, her wet hair under the strap accented her loveliness. She took a couple timid steps into the room, fearing a bump or a trip from no vision. I told her to get on her knees… and lick my boots, which I presented to her. She didn’t reply, but immediately did exactly what I had ordered.

  I directed my foot to her hands; She held it, raising it to her mouth. She was in a perfect downward dog position, her ass stretched high and her face low. I reached down to her ass and grabbed it forcefully, hanging on tight as I squeezed her flesh. It was a tad painful; she was moaning from the building ache, all while expertly licking my boot.

  I released my grasp on her butt and caressed it tenderly for a few minutes to her satisfaction. Then I commanded her to stop licking my boot and aim her head upward to lick my hand. She was getting really turned on. We both were. She focused on connecting with me through her mouth on my hand. When she was working on sucking my thumb, I imagined it was a penis and I was getting the best blow job a guy could ever dream of. For her it was a penis, too.

  I bet guys in her past, including her ex-husband, must have experienced the best blow jobs imaginable from her. She didn’t give it out of mechanical technique, but out of full devotion of herself to the task. She was the same with my four fingers in her mouth at the same time. I loved looking down on her with my fingers in her mouth. It was such a submissive image. Then again, I’d like to think th
is level of passion was only possible with me. Maybe guys in her past got your basic mechanical blow job.

  I told her to stop and lick my other boot. Again, she sloped into the perfect downward dog. I took my wet middle finger and ran it around her anus delicately. She was purring, a sound and sight so alluring that I had no choice but to slip my finger inside her ass. At first I went slowly… as she tried to comprehend the ecstasy of the feeling.

  Then I stuck my finger in as far as possible and gently thrust in and out. When my finger was all the way in, I bent over to use my other hand on her clit and pussy. She was thrusting back at my hands to maximize her sensations. She was dripping wet and her mouth was delirious on my foot. I started fucking her hard in the ass with my middle finger and sometimes I would lift her ass a little with my finger, causing extra pressure in the top of her anus.

  I sensed she was close to a giant sexual erruption and … instantly removed my hands with, “STOP!” It was hard for her, but she got a hold of herself. I continued, “You are never allowed to come without my permission first. Are we clear?” Straining for composure against her near orgasm, “Yes, Mistress. It’s clear.” “Get on all fours like a dog and wait for me.” She obeyed and waited, completely frozen in that humiliating position while I went to the bathroom to wash off my hands that she had soiled.

  When I returned, I let her know that she was about to receive her punishment for having previously come without my permission. She seemed willing to take her lumps. I had her lie on her back and put on her leather opera gloves again. I took off my boots and put them on her instead.

  Then I commanded her to cross her legs (like Indian-style), pulled out a 4ft piece of heavy chain and chained her ankles together in that crisscross leg position so that she couldn’t straighten them or stretch them out. I took the other end of the chain and wrapped it around her neck.

  And to secure it at the front of her neck, I used a padlock, which I also used to lock the center of the handcuffs. I grabbed each of her gloved wrists and locked them in the cuffs at her neck. It was a beautiful sight. Her legs were locked in a crisscross position and that chain went around her neck, locking in the front. Her hands were locked in the cuffs on either side of her chin, which prevented her from touching herself anywhere. It looked like a very uncomfortable position. She could never escape. If I lost the key, she would be stuck there for hours until I could figure out how to cut the chain.

  Because of her blindfold, I couldn’t see her full expression, but I would venture to say that she looked extremely turned on. I lied down next to her and caressed her like a pet. I kissed her slowly. It felt so dominant to have a woman chained up like this; I could touch her all I wanted but she couldn’t touch back. She was literally my object.

  I decided I needed a little loving too, so I slid off my jeans and stuck my pussy right in her face. She immediately began licking me… licking me from that honest place in her. I could barely handle it for more than a few seconds and pulled away.

  Then, blindsiding her, I firmly covered her mouth and pinched her nose closed to cut off her breathing. At first there was little reaction, but slowly, she began to squirm and moan as her breath was running out. In a calm and loving voice, I told her, “Listen to me. You can trust me. I will never harm you. I love you. Do you understand?” She desperately nodded “yes,” clearly under duress.

  Just as she was starting to flop and writhe to get air in a panic, I released her breath. She sprung to desperately gasping for air, while bellowing, “I trust you, Mistress.” “Good. I’m only punishing you for your own good,” I assured her. And now that I had her trust, her mistreatment could begin.

  I strapped the leather horse bit gag into her mouth and tightly cinched it behind her neck above the chain. She was blindfolded and gagged on the floor. Her arms were bent at the elbow and locked to handcuffs by her neck. That same chain locked her booted ankles in a crisscross position so that she couldn’t stretch out at all. She was naked. But that still wasn’t enough for me. Can you believe it! The kinky monster inside me was free to do what it wanted to this poor slave. And the monster wanted more.

  I placed full earphones over her ears with a long cord that went to my Bose player where I put on a Pandora channel to send floating French and Italian arias to her ears. It had the effect of rendering her in a state of complete sensory deprivation: no vision, no hearing anything in the room, no mobility, no use of her mouth due to the gag.

  I spoke to her as a test, and she couldn’t hear my normal talking voice at all. She couldn’t see. She couldn’t walk. Basically, she was fucked. I took a few moments to play with her super wet and exposed pussy.

  Lifting her earphones for a moment, I told her, “I’m going to get your keys out of your purse and sleep in your bed at your house tonight. You are going to have to sleep here like this. This is a very secure building and I will be checking on you from Skype on my iPhone from time to time. My laptop over there is broadcasting the video of you. I will be back in the morning. Do you trust me?” She looked terrified as she nodded “yes.” Then I put the earphones back on her and walked out of the room, slamming the door for effect on the way out.

  The power of having my own human object chained up in my bedroom for any use I desired is quite a feeling. She was an orifice or a plaything. She was fodder for masturbation whenever I wanted. She is willing to be degraded and uncomfortable in order to please me. And she is beautiful.

  Being left overnight like that must be a rush… no mobility, no vision, no hearing, no way to check the clock. The only thing she has is trust. If she didn’t have trust, surely full panic would quickly take over and it could be the most terrifying experience imaginable. She had to keep calm and keep faith that I would return to release her in the morning. But in her mind, I wondered if she had fears about me not returning at all. Perhaps I would get in a car crash. Perhaps I would get arrested for some strange reason. Who knows?

  But God forbid, if anything like that happened, she would still be chained up and at the mercy of circumstance. It is extremely doubtful that she would ever be able to be rescued because nobody would know she was there. On the flip side, if something happened to her while I was away and I couldn’t get to her in time, she might suffer grave consequences, even death. The whole scenario was really, really scary. That’s what made it so sexy. The trust had to be deep. I had to use every precaution to make sure that she was safe… and that I was safe too.

  I started wondering if, perhaps, her limbs might be too restricted for proper blood flow. It would be awful if I left her like that all night, only to discover in the morning there was no circulation to her hands or feet. To check on things, I reentered the room loudly so that she would both feel the door action and my footsteps in the floor’s vibration.

  I lifted off her headphones and said, “Before I leave, do you feel safe? Do you feel like anything is going to fall asleep?” “Thank you for checking, Mistress. I feel perfect,” she struggled to utter against the gag. Of course she felt perfect. She was limber and fit from years of yoga and good eating. I replaced the headphones and stared up close at her for a moment. Then I slapped her face quite firmly. A sexual moan of approval escaped her mouth. I walked out the room and slammed the door again on my way out. At least, that’s what she must have thought.

  Instead, I only faked the door slam. I wanted to stay in the room for a while and spy on her. I stood quietly studying her perfection. I loved the contour of her bent elbows that lead to her wrists being locked in the handcuffs by her neck. And her legs, chained crisscrossed in the boots is an image I will certainly recall in the future when I need some good material for self-pleasuring.

  I decided to test her hearing again. First I whispered her name. There was no response at all. I tried it louder and louder and she could never hear me at a loud room voice. I can’t imagine what have been more torturous for her… to be chained up like that or to have to listen to opera all night! Either way, I was
certain that she couldn’t see or hear anything from me. I watched her another few minutes as she squirmed a little and tried in vain to adjust her position against her bindings.

  Very quietly and slowly, I opened the door and exited. While leaving, I studied her to see if there was any reaction to the change in air due to the opening door. She didn’t seem to have any awareness that the door had opened. I closed it and stealthily headed downstairs.

  At the kitchen, I poured a glass of wine and then sat on the couch. With my first sip of wine came the thrill of thinking of all this craziness I could have never imaged just a few weeks ago. My libido was in charge and I felt sexually fulfilled for the first time in my life. It was a woman. It was bondage. I was in control. She craved it. The whole thing was feeding my lifelong yearning. I mean, I never yearned for a woman, but I yearned for this feeling.

  In retrospect, I could have only been this satisfied with a woman; BDSM with a man could never feel this rich. A man could never look as submissive as Regina. A man could never surrender so fully from the inside like Regina had. I could never relate to a man’s physical sensations like I am with Regina. I was she. I was chained up there in the bedroom and I could feel the chain around my neck and the blindfold cutting off my sight. I could feel my wet pussy and feel the freedom of surrendering to a beautiful mistress lover. I could feel the scariness of the situation and feel the sensual power of pure trust and honesty. I could feel that mistress loving me profoundly. As a woman, I was both slave and mistress. The control lies with me, but the sensation of being a slave is accessible to me.

  I know Regina wants to surrender to me and that suits me fine. I want to own her sexuality. I own her by not being selfish, but by being strong and controlling. She must serve me. She is free with me and she relishes giving up the trappings and trials of daily life.

  As I sat so comfortably in my living room sipping my wine, I enjoyed thinking that she was helpless and uncomfortable on the floor of my room. Her mind was filled with the idea that I was gone to her house. But in fact, I’m too chicken to leave her alone and completely helpless in such a dangerous situation. Too many things could go wrong.