Midnight Series (camren version)

Chapter 8

butterfly

When I woke, I still felt calm and relaxed. I wondered if it had all been a dream or a figment of my imagination, but when I saw the now dry spot that I had created the night before, I knew for sure that it had all happened. At least it was Friday and I could sleep in tomorrow.

Work seemed to go more quickly than the day before, and I even laughed to myself when Candy bragged about going to another hot new club tonight with her hot new boyfriend who knew how to, as she put it, "dine at the Y."

By the time I got home and climbed into bed, I was wetter than the night before and on the verge of an orgasm. I wondered if she would call tonight. I didn't have to wonder long.

"Hello, butterfly," she said when I picked up the phone a few minutes after climbing into bed. "How are you tonight? Speak."

"I am fine, Mistress."

"Good job waiting for me to tell you to speak, but you will not address yourself as I. You will speak only of yourself as butterfly, or not at all. Do you understand? Speak."

"Yes, Mistress," I said quickly.

"Tell me that you understand, butterfly. Speak" "Yes, Mistress, butterfly understands."

"Oh, good girl. You learn quickly. Let me see how my butterfly can be rewarded."

I smiled at her praise and my heart beat faster at her promise of a reward. "Last night my butterfly came hard and squirted. I don't think she has ever squirted before. Am I correct?" I nodded.

"Did butterfly enjoy squirting?"

I nodded again, pretty sure she could see me. Besides, she hadn't told me to speak. The truth is, I had enjoyed it, although I was a bit embarrassed.

"My butterfly is a good little girl, coming like that for her Mistress, but she needs to learn to control her orgasms much more if she is going to continue pleasing her Mistress. If she can barely control them when she is pleasuring herself, what will she do when her Mistress is fucking her little pussy with her cock?"

The wetness between my legs increased as I heard her words. I wiggled trying to hide the wetness. She had noticed.

"Stop moving, little girl," she commanded.

I froze for what felt like eternity.

"Such a greedy little come slut, aren't you?"

I still sat there frozen. She hadn't told me to speak, so I didn't have to answer her question. I didn't want to acknowledge her words even with a nod. I had never been called anything like a come slut in my life.

"It's okay, butterfly. I like it that you like to come for me, that your wetness flows freely from your body when you hear my voice. I like that you're a little come slut."

It was as if she were speaking directly to my core. Her words were like none I'd ever heard before, but they turned me on and were so erotic. I knew in my head that I should be offended. A stranger was calling me a slut, and instead of hanging up or arguing, I found myself more turned on than I ever had been in my life. The wetness that had been gathering in my curls was now actually dripping onto the bed. I had never dripped like that before.

"You are a little come slut, aren't you?"

I nodded. I didn't care. I would say or do anything to keep this feeling going, to feel what I had felt last night.

"Say it. Speak."

"Um, butterfly is a little come slut."

"Good girl, my good little come slut." I smiled at her words of praise. "Now, little one, I want you to take two fingers and run them through your dripping folds."