Owning Regina: Diary of my unxpected passion for another woman

by Lorelei Elstrom

  With the shoes, she wore a camel pencil skirt that went to her knees. Tucked into it was a crispy white blouse with a standup collar. And the coup de grace, around her neck was that impossibly sexy brown leather slave collar (the 3-inche wide one that looks like it was cut down from a high-end designer belt). The collar was a stunning accent to the outfit. Plus, it made me want to dominate her! Her hair was no longer in the side braid, but rather in a high ponytail. She looked super cosmopolitan… like Vogue NY.

  Neither of us seemed to know how to exit the “stranger” game. I made the understated comment, “Cute outfit.” She responded with, “Thanks, yours too.” I was wearing a black turtleneck, black tights, and our brick red boots.

  It was awkward because we stayed in character, and didn’t know how to get out of the scene. It wasn’t our regular game and I wasn’t the mistress.

  We went to the restaurant and sat at a booth. Even as the waitress took our order, I was conflicted about if I should break the “stranger” game or not. Regina seemed like she was completely fine as strangers. But I really wanted to be with Regina Regina. So I pulled a ruse.

  I pretended to check my phone as if it had been vibrating. “Oh no,” I worried aloud, “I have to go help a friend. Sorry but I’m going to have to leave.” Regina, sat in confusion as I hastily disappeared out the front door. She looked so sad as I was walking out, kind of like a bomb just dropped on her.

  Outside the restaurant, I waited about thirty seconds before racing back in as I called out, “Regina! So sorry I’m late.” She perked up and a wry smile came upon her. I walked over and gave her a kiss right on the lips. “I missed you soooooooo much! Thanks for waiting for me!! I had some problems being stuck with a stranger. Long story.” Regina was beaming and chuckling. We were back as ourselves.

  I don’t know why I felt compelled to exit our game that way instead of just telling her that we should be ourselves. But it seemed, kind of like our kinky game, that we had both thrown ourselves so deeply into character and into believing the circumstances that it would feel embarrassing and awkward to break character without some type of exit device. It would be like if you were watching a stage play and the actor all of the sudden broke character and said, “Can you excuse me for a couple minutes? I gotta move my car before the meter expires.”

  But if the play ends and you see the actor in the lobby, you would expect that he or she would have left the character on the stage to become a regular person again. Regina and I need that type of transition. Plus, it feels emotionally safer to know when we are in a character in the character’s world. We won’t be judged for acting strange because it is all part of a stage act.

  So there I was in the restaurant with the real Regina. I went over to her side of the booth and slid next to her. It felt like we were both love-struck. We were very tactile, holding hands, playing with each other’s hair, etc.

  Just as in the play analogy, it feels okay to talk about everything once it has officially concluded. Our conversation went like this:

  ME

  Thank God Nancy is your ex-sister-in-law. To be perfectly honest, I was jealous about your familiarity with her. I thought she was a virtual stranger to you and that you were flirting with her.

  REGINA

  I could sense something was going on with you.

  ME

  You were aware of me at yoga? I got the impression you totally shut me out as part of the game.

  REGINA

  Are you kidding? I have Meg-dar. That’s like radar. I’m telepathically tuned into you.

  We both chuckled and then took a pause to eat and breathe. The conversation continued:

  REGINA

  Other than Nancy, did you think the game was sexy?

  ME

  It was so sexy!! I loved seeing you and not being able to jump on you. It was mental bondage. Your outfit was fantastic! You looked like a completely different girl!

  REGINA

  Different girl? But… you would never want that in the real world, right?

  ME

  God, no.

  REGINA

  Me neither.

  ME

  You know what?

  REGINA

  What?

  ME

  I have never done any kind of role-playing before in relationships. It’s so fun!! I thrilled that you’re cool with it.

  REGINA

  Cool with it? It’s dreamy hot.

  ME

  Speaking of hot, your collar is driving me insane!! I really want to fuck with you in a dungeon.

  Her eyes flirted with the fantasy. We snuggled close and I leaned my head on her shoulder. She took my head in her hand. Just then, a piercing voice interrupted, “Ms. Baker!”

  Crap, it was Amanda, one of Regina’s 5 grade students with her dad in tow. They busted over to our table. The conversation went like this:

  AMANDA

  Hi Ms. Baker!

  REGINA

  Hi Amanda. Hi Mr. Swenson. How are you two?

  AMANDA

  We’re great. We just saw “Far Fetched”.

  ME

  Oh, that’s the movie about the toy dog who wants to be real, right?

  MR. SWENSON

  Yes. It was pretty clever. I give it 4 out of 5 stars.

  REGINA

  (After a smile of acknowledgement)

  This is my dear friend, Meg.

  Mr. Swenson looked like he was calculating the odds that we were merely “dear friends.” Of course, he had a lot to work with since Regina and I had been practically drooling over each other. He also spent a decent amount of time staring at her leather collar.

  MR. SWENSON

  C’mon, Amanda. Let’s let them get back to their dinner.

  AMANDA

  Okay. Bye Ms. Baker.

  (She turned to exit but then swung back around)

  Your collar is really pretty.

  REGINA

  Thank you, Amanda. See you in class.

  MR. SWENSON

  It was nice to meet you, Meg.

  ME

  Likewise. Have a good evening.

  Regina gave a cute little wave as they left.

  ME

  Does that bother you?

  REGINA

  What?

  ME

  That your school half sees this half.

  REGINA

  No. It doesn’t bother me. Better than running into me sloppy drunk in a bar.

  ME

  I mean, the fact that you’re with me.

  REGINA

  In know what you meant. It doesn’t bother me. Luckily, we live in the progressive state of California in the even more progressive city of San Francisco. People can be themselves.

  ME

  Do you want to go home with me and play a different kind of game?

  REGINA

  Would you be cool if I slept over?

  ME

  That’s very forward of you.

  REGINA

  You’re right. Please don’t tell that mean Mistress friend of yours. She has it out for me.

  ME

  No worries. We can go to my house and play cards or something. And yes, Ms. Baker, I’d love you to sleep over.

  --- THURSDAY APRIL 12 --- You’re fucking awesome

  Insane! When we got to my house last night, we jumped into the game (the real game, not the stranger game) and kept it up until 6:45am when my alarm went off to get Regina to school in time.

  Here’s what happened. We got back to my house and we were both feeling really connected to each other. I poured us each a glass of wine and we sat on the sofa. Regina was sitting with her legs crossed, favoring her new high heels toward me. She looked like such a femme fatale. I wanted to see her smoke a cigar to complete the image. Luckily, I happened to have one upstairs that my dad had given me a while back when I expressed interest.

  Nobody in my family smoke
s. Neither Regina nor I smoke. But I still thought it would be hot to see her smoke a cigar. Normally, it would freak me out to smoke anything in my house. It is completely off limits! But my libido got the best of me and I threw caution to the wind. I wanted to see this femme fatale with that stogie between her lips.

  Regina thought the idea sounded disgusting. I knew she thought that because she said, “No fucking way am I smoking a cigar.” Hahaha, But with a little coaxing from my dimpled smile, she was sparking up five minutes later. She coughed a little at first, prompting a round of giggles, until I told her you’re not supposed to inhale cigars. Keep in mind, we hadn’t started the game yet and she was not being ordered by her mistress to smoke the cigar.

  I stepped across the room to watch her smoke it. The image was every bit as perfect as I had envisioned: White blouse, heavy brown leather slave collar, pencil skirt with crossed legs, beautiful hair and the perfect self-righteous attitude she had suddenly assumed. She ignored me as I watched her, as if she was alone in the room. After savoring the sight for a while, I couldn’t take it anymore from a distance. I needed to shut her down and take control. I wanted to own her sexually.

  But just when I was about to get into action, she stunned me by puffing on the cigar and invoking the game with “Can you believe how blue the sky is today?”

  I wondered, since she was the one who initiated the game, did she all of the sudden want to be dominant? She certainly looked the part in her femme fatale outfit.

  But I wasn’t in the mood to be submissive to my own freaking slave. It was time to jump into my bitch self and ask, “Yes, slave, exactly what did you want to say?” Slave Regina, in full game mode, shot back, “I have missed you terribly dear Mistress. I’m lost without your discipline.”

  Feeling more and more of the edginess of the game developing, I said, “And so you took it upon yourself to enter my world?” She nodded. I approached her quickly and grabbed her face firmly. “A nod is not a respectful answer.” And I slapped her face briskly, causing her to involuntarily let out a little scream. After recovering, she looked at me deeply in the eyes and pleaded, “I crave you, Mistress.”

  “No more chatter from you,” I scolded sharply. Then I continued with, “Stand up.” She stood obediently. I reached up her skirt and removed her panties, then hiked up her skirt to allow full access to her pussy and stunning ass. Handing the edges of the skirt to her hands, I had her hold her own skirt up for me. I sat on the sofa and told her, “Pretend I am a man in a high-end strip club and give me a lap dance. When the bouncers aren’t watching, kissing and fondling is okay.” “Thank you, Mistress,” she beamed with flames of lust in her eyes.

  Straddling me, she put part of her weight across my thighs as I sat. Slowly, she gyrated and started caressing her tits. She wasn’t doing it as a mere gesture; from her core she was emotionally immersed in and connected to the scene. We were both really warming up.

  After a while, she reached over with both hands and started playing with my breasts. First her hands were over my turtleneck, but soon she had slipped her hands up my shirt. I paused briefly to undo my bra. When her warm hands hit the raw skin of my breasts, it was unbelievable.

  She was slowly riding my thighs while playing with my breasts in perfect rhythm. A moment later, I was treated to her lips contacting mine in a loose mouth kiss that rambled and rolled from my face to my ears to my mouth to my neck. I put my middle finger between her legs from the back as she continued her lap dance. My fingers gently traced the moisture of her pussy. Once my fingers were completely wet, I slowly stuck my middle finger up inside her. That caused her to make these yummy moaning sounds as I started thrusting my middle finger in and out.

  I slid my body down the sofa between her legs so that my mouth was right at her clit as she clutched the back of the couch, kneeling on the cushions over my face. With my finger still penetrating her, I tenderly massaged her clit with my tongue.

  Gauging her reactions carefully, I would alternate licking with pushing my tongue into her vagina alongside my finger. She was a flaming mess of erotic frenzy, moaning and jerking and borderline crying. Sensing she was extremely close, I thrust into her harder and deeper with my finger. She was starting to tremble from over stimulation combined with her thighs weakening from the thrusting in the lap dance. She exploded into a painfully sexy moan with a very strained utterance of, “I love you, Mistress. I love you.”

  The smoke had cleared, I told her to go clean up, compose herself, change into some of my jammies upstairs and then call me when she was nice and calm. “Yes, Mistress.” She complied with relaxed joy in her voice.

  A while later, she called me up to the bedroom. I hugged her warmly to make a nice connection for a moment. Then I told her, “Your outfit tonight was quite dominant and audacious for a slave. To deepen your understanding of me, we need to switch perspectives. I want you to chain me spread-eagled, face down on the bed with each of my arms and legs secured to the bedpost so that there is no way for me to escape. You will use your creativity and intuition to get me to come by any means possible, gesturing to my growing box of kink toys on the closet floor. I don’t want to hear a peep from your mouth. Is that perfectly clear?”

  She knelt down before me and clearly nodded silently in order to obey my command of silence. I put my hand on her throat as she knelt there. “Just because I will be restrained doesn’t mean you are in control. You will always be my slave,” I sternly reminded. Then I slapped her lovely cheek quite firmly. She took my hand and kissed the palm gently, assuring me that she was still my pet.

  I knelt down to her level, looked straight in her eyes, and then indicated she should stand over me, which she did. “You may now execute my command.”

  She stared down at me for a moment, coming to grips with her new dominant authority. I stared back, ordering her with my eyes to take charge.

  SLAP! She shocked me with a cold clap to my face. She did it with unflinching resolve and, being solidly in character, gave no hint of remorse. At first I was taken aback. She seemed to have moved too quickly and easily to the dominant mindset. It was almost instant, and especially out-of-place coming from and adorable girl in pajamas.

  But then again, I did get the sense she was deeply invested in the slave role and wanted to please me to the strongest degree. If I ordered her to be dominant, she would be dominant. If I ordered her to lick my feet, she would do that just as obediently… with full passion to please me. Still, I can’t believe she hauled off and slapped me in the face without apology.

  Relationship experts say that sexual partners do to their mate what they like done to themselves. I thought this would be interesting to see what Regina would do to me sexually when given free reign. I thought perhaps I would discover some deeper ways to please her. But mostly, I wanted to feel her authority.

  After the slap, she stared at me coldly for a moment before guiding me to standup. Once I was standing, she stripped me naked with clinical detachment, tossing my clothes on the floor in a pile. But she made me put back on our brick red boots, which really turned me on.

  In the same detached expression, she directed me to lie on the bed. Then she went to my toy box in the closet and pulled out 4 lengths of heavy chain with which she chained my ankles and wrists to the corner bedposts. The cold steel felt intimidating on my wrists. The pressure of the chain through the leather on my boots was a delight.

  Being facedown with my nude ass exposed, I felt really vulnerable as Regina’s mistress. The possibilities of what could come were extremely arousing. There could be kisses, a massage, a whipping, or even something shoved up my ass. It was all at Regina’s whim. I decided to completely give up control and go with the idea of being a bottom.

  She rooted around in my underwear drawer and came up with my corset, which she put around my waist. She began lacing and cinching tighter than I have ever felt! She must have spent 10 minutes pulling and gathering until my torso was so constricted tha
t only the shallowest of breathing was permitted.

  I had created a monster. She wasn’t done yet. She took her wide leather collar that she had been wearing and strapped it around my neck, cinching it to the tightest notch. Now who was the slave! The collar said it all. It was like Wonder Woman’s lasso. Whoever is in its grasp is rendered completely helpless and submissive.

  She found a knitted wool hat in my closet and pulled it over my head, all the way over my eyes. Then she disappeared for a couple minutes, presumably to go to the garage. When she returned, she had some duct tape and made dozens of runs around my head over the knitted hat. It was scary to feel completely blindfolded like that. There was no chance in hell I would ever be able to see a single thing. The compression of all the tape was so tight that I wouldn’t even be able to open my eyelids if my life depended on it.

  Next, she shoved my own dirty sock in my mouth (the ones I was wearing in my boots before she stripped me down). Continuing with the duct tape treatment by going around and around the back of my head over the knit cap and across my mouth, sealing in the sock. Only my nostrils were exposed. It was really frightening. There was literally no way for me to talk or end the game with “That was some kind of crazy day I had.” Basically, I was fucked.

  She straddled me, sitting over my ass, and then reached in front to play with my tits. It was wildly exciting to be so helpless and objectified under her. She kissed my neck and gently squeezed my nipples with little pulses of pressure. As I got more and more turned on, my breathing became more difficult; I couldn’t get very much air through my nose, especially with the corset constriction.

  She sat upright over my ass. With one hand, she began massaging my vulva. With the other hand, she was rubbing my back above the corset. I was really getting turned on, to say the least.

  Again, she disappeared for a moment. When she returned, she straddled my corset, facing toward my feet. She played with my ass gently for a bit before I felt some lube being applied to my asshole. I felt a rounded, elongated object slowly entering me in the ass. (I would later find out it was the handle of my designer ice cream scoop that was inside a condom). She penetrated it really deep inside me with one hand as she played with my clit with her other hand. I was struggling to breathe against the corset and duct taped mouth and it was quite terrifying to be blindfolded and restrained at the same time. After the scoop handle was all the way inside me, she left it there and inserted a dormant vibrator up my pussy. With the exception of my nose, every orifice I had was either covered or filled.