White Collar (Lesbian BDSM Erotica)

by Cress, Rynna

  Janelle smiled down at this new plaything, her eyes closed, her head tilted back, her mouth curled up into a faint smile as Vanessa began aggressively swirling her tongue over her clit. Janelle reached out, taking the girls two nipples in her fingers and squeezing until she moaned with pain, pleased to see her resisting the urge to resist.

  “Tell me you like it, Lacy,” she commanded.

  Lacy grunted with pain before answering, “I like it, Janelle…”

  “Tell me you want more,” she said, squeezing even harder.

  Lacy gave a sharp cry of pain, gritting her teeth and moaning out, “Janelle… I want more…”

  Janelle squeezed harder still, smiling as Lacy clenched her eyes shut and opened her mouth as if to scream, instead gasping in silence, bearing the pain like the true submissive that she was. It was ingrained in her, a basic, inherent, carnal need that she could run from, but never hide from.

  Janelle had known it from the day she had first seen her.

  Janelle clenched her fingers down with full force on the girl’s tender nipples, leaving her yelping and whimpering in pain… whimpers that quickly grew into moans of ecstasy, as Vanessa’s tongue brought Lacy past her point of no return, the ascending sensation of a fast-approaching orgasm rippling through her body.

  Lacy moaned out a piercing shriek as she came, her face twisted with pained bliss, every nerve in her body tensing. Janelle pulled at her nipples, slowly twisting them as the orgasm rolled through her body, letting the pain blend in.

  Lacy exhaled sharply as she finished, and Janelle slowly released her grasp on the girl’s nipples. She sank back into the couch, exhausted, and slowly began to cry again, sobbing gently. Janelle wrapped an arm around her, pulling her in against her chest, lightly running her fingers through the girl’s hair.

  “Shhh,” she said, “it’s all right. You’re all right.”

  Lacy nodded, tears still rolling down her face, and wrapped her arms around Janelle, clinging to her, finding safety and comfort from the numbing confusion in her soft embrace. Below, Vanessa gently laid her face on Lacy’s lap, gently tracing her fingertips back and forth over the top of her leg. The affection was overwhelming in the best of ways. Lacy, naked and vulnerable, her deepest desires and submissive instincts laid bare before these two women, felt accepted, wanted, cared for, loved, even. It simply drowned out everything else.

  Janelle kissed the top of her head. “I know, Lacy,” she whispered. “I know…”

  The three of them sat just like that, in silence, for a few minutes, until Janelle kissed Lacy’s head again and pulled back from her, looking down to Vanessa.

  “Go and finish dinner,” she commanded.

  Vanessa nodded, collecting her apron and rising to her feet. “Yes, Janelle,” she said, exiting the room, leaving the two of them.

  Janelle took Lacy’s chin in her fingers, pulling her face up to hers and staring deep into her eyes, kissing her gently. Then, she rose, moving to a side table and opening a drawer. She reached in, her back to Lacy, pulling something out. Then she turned around.

  She held a white collar, identical to Vanessa’s, and quietly laid it on the table.

  “Listen to me, Lacy,” she said softly. “If this truly isn’t what you want, or who you want to be, this is your only chance to walk away. Just put your clothes on and leave, and in the morning you’ll have a glowing letter of recommendation and your choice of positions at any firm in the city.

  “But if I’m right about you, and this is precisely what you want, what you need, then please, take this collar and come and join us in the dining room for dinner.”

  Lacy looked from Janelle to the collar, then back to Janelle.

  “I don’t know that I understand,” she finally said.

  “Of course you don’t. This isn’t who you already are - this is who you want to be, and I will take you there if that is in fact what you want. But I can’t do that if you don’t put your full trust in me and submit to me fully. You will be under my firm guidance, under my complete control. There will be no turning back. Do you understand that?”

  Lacy nodded slowly, the dizzying enormity of the decision beginning to weigh down on her.

  “Take your time,” Janelle said, “and then make your choice.”

  With that, Janelle stepped out into the kitchen, leaving Lacy alone with what felt like a million thoughts. She wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand, then slowly stood up, looking down at her naked body, over at her clothing… and then over at the collar. There was something hypnotic about it, something that drew her in and refused to release her. It frightened her, but she couldn’t look away.

  After what felt like an eternity of hesitation, she closed her eyes, swallowing a lump in the back of her throat and taking a deep breath.

  Then, resolved, she opened her eyes, stepped over to the table, took the collar in her hands, and made her way towards the dining room, never looking back.

  **********

  P A R T 3

  The dining room was small, but elegant, with a tall, round, glass top table in the center. Janelle smiled from her seat at the table as Lacy solemnly walked stepped into the room, nude and nascent, collar in hand.

  “I’m glad you’ll be joining us, Lacy,” she said. “Come here.”

  “Yes, Janelle.”

  Lacy made her way beside Janelle, her hands held submissively behind her back. She looked down at Vanessa, knelt down at Janelle’s feet under the table.

  “Kneel,” Janelle commanded. Lacy obeyed, lowering to her knees beside the chair, looking up at the calm, imposing woman.

  “The collar,” she said, holding her hand out, Lacy handing it over. Janelle held it in front of Lacy’s face, smiling approvingly at the way Lacy stared at it, transfixed.

  “This collar will be a constant reminder of your submission to me,” she said. “It represents both the power that I hold as well as the trust that you put in me.”

  “Yes, Janelle…” Lacy said quietly, still unable to look away from the white leather collar. Everything about it felt intensely meaningful to Lacy, even though she knew she couldn’t fully comprehend its meaning yet. All she knew was that she wanted it around her neck. She had made her choice, and she was ready to begin.

  “With this collar around your neck, you will be owned,” Janelle said. “You will be my pet, my slave, my property to use as I see fit. You will obey my rules at all times, you will follow my every command, and you will strive every day to be a more perfect slut. You will be honest, respectful, and submissive with me at all times. Failure to meet any of these expectations at any time is grounds for immediate punishment at my discretion. Do you understand?”

  Lacy took a breath, steeling herself before answering, “Yes, Janelle.”

  Janelle nodded, continuing. “I will keep you in your place. I will push you. If needed, I will hurt you. But you will never be harmed, and you will always be protected and cared for. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Janelle.”

  “Do you accept this collar, Lacy?”

  “I do, Janelle,” she said, her reservations and insecurities feeling like distant memories, memories that she was all too happy to begin forgetting. She wanted the collar, wanted it badly, wanted everything that it represented, everything that it promised…

  “Very well,” Janelle said, smiling softly at the girl. She unclasped the collar, then slowly laid it around Lacy’s neck, buckling it tightly shut behind her, their eyes locked in the intensity of the moment.

  “Your submission is a gift, and I will never take it for granted,” Janelle whispered.

  “Yes, Janelle,” Lacy whispered in return, the constricting feel of the collar around her neck immediately sending shivers through her body. She knew there was no turning back.

  “Now take your place beside Vanessa,” Janelle said. “You belong at my feet.”

  Lacy crawled under the table beside Vanessa, following her lead and lowering her face to the
floor, her hands behind her back.

  Janelle smiled at her two pets, then stepped out of her heels. Vanessa immediately took the cue, lowering her mouth to Janelle’s foot, slowly running her tongue over the top of it, worshipping it with the devotion of a slave. Lacy quickly followed suit with Janelle’s other foot, taking her toes into her mouth and lovingly sucking them, working her tongue in between them. She was astonished by how naturally it came to her, licking and worshipping another woman’s foot. But then again, she had left her doubts and insecurities behind her when she had chosen the collar. Without them, there was no need for questions or hesitation, no need to feel self conscious or unsure. There was only Janelle’s firm, calm dominance. It was all Lacy wanted, all she needed.

  Janelle closed her eyes, purring with satisfaction, then turned to the steaming bowl of penne a la vodka in front of her, neatly laying her napkin in her lap and taking a bite. She ate slowly and carefully, savoring each bite, drinking more wine, enjoying the feel of her two adoring slaves worshipping her feet. She curled her toes together, forcing all five of them into Lacy’s mouth, then the same with Vanessa’s, leaving the girls gagged and whimpering below her as she continued to eat, playfully wiggling her toes atop their tongues as she chewed another bite.

  Finally, her bowl half-finished, Janelle pulled her feet from the girls’ mouths and stood up, lowering the bowl to the floor in between the two of them.

  “I’m going to go get changed,” she said, stepping out into her bedroom. “You may not leave your places under the table. When I return, I expect that bowl to be spotless.”

  Without hesitation, Vanessa lowered her mouth to the bowl, licking a mouthful of pasta into her mouth, sauce smearing across her chin. Lacy, determined to learn her place, but still reluctant about eating off of the floor, slowly, gingerly, lowered her face into the bowl, taking a noodle in her teeth, then another.

  “You need to eat faster or we’ll be punished, Lacy,” Vanessa said, nudging her out of the way and demonstrating with another large, somewhat sloppy mouthful.

  Lacy gave a hesitant nod, and lowered her face into the bowl, coming up with a mouthful of pasta and a nose covered in sauce. Vanessa smiled at her and nodded approvingly.

  “You wanted to be a dirty little slut,” she said. “Well, dirty little sluts get filthy in order to please their owners.”

  Lacy nodded, without hesitation this time, Vanessa’s words striking a chord with her. Just twenty-four hours ago, she had felt like a slut for the first time in her life, and the very thought of it had nearly driven her to a full-fledged identity crisis. Now, here she was, the very next night – Janelle’s dirty little slut.

  And she liked it.

  The shame, the doubt, the self-loathing… it was all gone. With the collar around her neck, with her freedom stripped away and her every desire laid bare, Lacy felt as if her eyes had finally been opened. Gone was the confusion over what she wanted and didn’t want, because now, the only thing she ever had to want was to please Janelle. The rest was irrelevant.

  By giving up her freedom, Lacy could finally feel… free.

  A smile grew on her face, and she thrust her face into the bowl, eagerly taking another mouthful of pasta, looking up playfully at Vanessa as she chewed. Vanessa arched an eyebrow, a grin beginning to form on her face as she watched this newborn slave begin to understand herself anew. She brought her face down, nudging Lacy out of the way, licking at the bowl, only to have Lacy push her way back in, hungry for more, a playful skirmish developing between the two pets.

  Lacy moaned through a mouthful, realizing with amazement that the mere humiliation of being forced to eat off of the floor was actually turning her on…

  Vanessa couldn’t help but laugh at the sound of Lacy’s moan. “Good God, you’re insatiable,” she said, before taking another lick at the nearly-cleaned bowl.

  Lacy grinned, knowing that Vanessa was right. She leaned in, licked up the last of the sauce, and smiled at Vanessa, their faces covered in the orange mess.

  “Here,” Vanessa said, leaning in, licking the sauce off of Lacy’s cheek and chin. Lacy moaned again, happily returning the favor, the two of them cleaning each other, their tongues dancing across each other’s faces, quickly finding their ways into each other’s mouths. They kissed, aggressive and passionate, the two of them moaning together, an unrestrained celebration of Lacy’s arrival into the world of submission. It was kinky, messy, and degrading…

  …And it felt goddamned incredible.

  “I told you Vanessa was a talented cook.”

  The girls turned from their embrace, finding Janelle watching them from the doorway. Gone was the casual dress from before, replaced with a white leather corset that neatly cupped the bottom of her round, exposed breasts, thigh-high white pantyhose held up by garters, and at her midsection, erected like a centerpiece, a long, clear, curved strap-on dildo. Lacy felt her mouth go dry at the very sight of her, her entire body rushing with endorphins, every instinct she had telling her that she wanted this woman, needed this woman, would do anything for this woman…

  “Come here,” Janelle said. “Both of you. It’s time to begin.”

  **********

  Janelle’s bed was perhaps the only non-modern piece of furniture in the entire condo, a beautiful antique four-poster bed with polished brass plating around each post that reminded Lacy of the collar around her neck. The soft brown hue of the elegantly grained mahogany stood in stark contrast to the hard, stark, practical modernity of the rest of the home, and Lacy couldn’t help but feel as if it made the bed feel special and sacred, a venerable sanctuary for Janelle’s undeniable but too-often masked sensuality.

  Per Janelle’s instruction, Lacy kneeled silently with Vanessa at the foot of the bed, their hands held submissively behind their backs, their eyes to the ground. Before them, Janelle rooted around in a dresser, occasionally pulling something out, inspecting it, and then either placing it on top of the dresser, or back in the drawer, selecting her arsenal. Lacy did her best to be obedient and keep her head lowered, but out of the top of her peripheral vision, she could make out a wide assortment of ropes, restraints, and sex toys that she didn’t recognize. She could only imagine how they might be used on her, and what effect they might have on her, be it pain or pleasure… or both…

  Finally, Janelle turned around, quickly stuffing a white-strapped ballgag into Vanessa’s mouth and buckling it shut behind her head.

  “And for you…” she said, turning to Lacy…

  Lacy glanced up to see a gag that looked like a black leather pacifier – with a thick, eight inch dildo protruding from its center, covered in lube. Within seconds, Janelle had secured it into the wide-eyed girl’s mouth and buckled it shut behind her head, essentially turning her face into a fucking machine.

  “I want to see how well my new slave gives, as well as gets,” Janelle said, stroking the back of her fingers along Lacy’s face.

  “Vanessa, on the bed, hands and knees,” she commanded, snapping her fingers. Vanessa quickly scrambled into place and assumed the position, her shapely, eager ass arching seductively…

  Janelle turned down to Lacy. “Up,” she said, snapping again, “On your feet.” Lacy obeyed, standing before her Mistress, her anxious, expectant eyes just begging for instruction, begging to be put to use. Janelle smiled and grabbed the girl’s shoulders, turning her around to face Vanessa and pulling her arms behind her back, quickly securing them in place with a pair of white leather wrist cuffs. She leaned in, kissing the nervous girl’s shoulder and neck, and traced her tongue up to the girl’s earlobe.

  “Tease her,” she whispered, bending Lacy down, bringing her face directly behind Vanessa, the tip of Lacy’s dildo gag quickly finding its way between Vanessa’s legs, brushing delicately against her clit. Vanessa shuddered and moaned softly, wiggling her ass in response, eager for more.

  Janelle stepped her foot in between Lacy’s legs, kicking her feet apart, spreading the girl’s legs. Then,
the way cleared, she reached in between the girl’s legs, slowly running her fingertips back from her clit, over her pussy, to her asshole, then back forwards, teasing her, happy to find her growing wetter by the second.

  “Lacy,” Janelle commanded, “fuck Vanessa’s ass.”

  Lacy had never even looked at an asshole, let alone fucked one with her face, but she was determined to do her best. Any feelings of squeamishness that she might have once had were gone, muted by the simple fact that if Janelle wanted it, Lacy wanted it.

  She traced the tip of the dildo back from Vanessa’s clit, delicately positioning it against Vanessa’s tight, dark-skinned hole, teasing it forward against her, the slippery rubber cock flirting with penetration. “Go on, Lacy,” Janelle said sternly, still stroking the girl’s pussy, “Enter her.”

  Lacy took a deep breath, then craned her neck forward, Vanessa’s ass stretching to accept the dildo, enveloping it inch by inch as Lacy guided it inside of her…

  “Easy,” Janelle said, grabbing a fistful of Lacy’s hair and holding her head still, giving Vanessa’s ass a chance to expand and adjust to the dildo. “Start slow, ease into it,” she explained. She bucked the tip of her strap-on against Lacy’s ass, snarling, “You wouldn’t like it if I rammed this straight up your tight little asshole, would you?”

  Lacy gave a loud, fearful whimper through her gag, Janelle smiling wickedly behind her, pulling the girl’s hair back, slowly guiding the dildo back out of Vanessa’s ass.

  “Like that – in slowly, out slowly, and then back in, deeper,” she said.

  Lacy gave a muffled moan, feeling completely objectified, little more than her Mistress’ surrogate cock. Slowly, carefully, she pushed the dildo back forward, watching in awe as Vanessa’s ass quickly stretched around it, accepting it as it gradually pushed further and further inside of her. Vanessa gave a low moan, her hips pushing back against the dildo, taking it even deeper up her ass.