Midnight Series (camren version)

Chapter Two

butterfly

Last night had been the best sex of my life. I'd come more times than I could count, and I swore my Mistress had, as well. She'd given me a permanent collar and told me that she loved me. Things had been perfect.

When I'd found out that my Mistress—was Lauren, I'd been shocked. I had even gone over our relationship in my head to see if there had been any clues I'd missed. I recalled the first time I'd met her and her brother, Shane, at Voltz Games. It had been after she'd contacted me on the phone, yet she showed no signs of knowing me.

I remembered thinking that her voice sounded like my Mistress' but I'd dismissed it. Initially, I thought it was me not being able to get my Mistress from my mind. It seemed ludicrous to accept the idea that a graphic artist at my place of employment could be the woman who called me and watched me masturbate.

I headed into the bathroom and began to undress. That was when it occurred to me that it probably hadn't been chance that she and I worked at the same place. I'd always assumed she saw me through my window somehow—probably with night vision goggles—and then did some sort of reverse look up to find me. Now, knowing it was Lauren, I wondered if she had seen me at work first and then found me at home. Had she requested to work with me or had it just been chance? The thought that she might have wanted to work with me because she'd found me attractive and not because of my artistic ability stung a little.

I stepped into the shower and thought it over some more. I couldn't be upset with her for wanting to spend time with me any way she could, because I felt the same about her. From the first moment she called me up until right now, I'd felt drawn to her and would have done what I could just to be near her at all times.

It was possible that she tried to tell me last night. She had attempted to tell me something about herself, but I'd told her it didn't matter. Before I'd seen her, I told her I didn't care what she looked like, that I just wanted her. Of course, at the time I'd thought she was deformed or unattractive in some way. I'd never expected her to look like a Greek goddess when she was undressed. I felt the same way about whatever she was going to tell me. She could have been a fugitive in hiding, an alien, or even Elvis reincarnated for all I cared. I was in love with her, and as long as she was free to be loved, it didn't matter.

I still had doubts about whether or not she had other submissives, but this afternoon, she'd told me that I was the only woman she'd ever given a permanent collar. In telling me that I was the only submissive she'd given a collar to, she'd confirmed that there were others. What I didn't know was if the others were in the past, or if they were current submissives. As I stood there in the shower washing my body, I had to wonder how many other women had stood in this exact place, doing the same thing after being with my Mistress.

I felt the hot tears build again but pushed them away. This wasn't the time to feel sad or insecure. My Mistress had made love to me all night and she'd told me she loved me. I was going to bask in that feeling and I'd talk to her about my concerns soon enough. Perhaps I'd ask her in my next journal entry.

Lost in thought, I winced when I scrubbed my pussy a bit too hard with the loofah. I really wasn't surprised it was still puffy and swollen. After all, she'd fucked me harder than I'd ever been fucked before. The funny thing was, it didn't really hurt; it was just warm and tingled deliciously, reminding me she'd been there.

I shampooed my hair twice and used conditioner on it before stepping from the warm water. I no longer smelled like her and it was a shame. She had the most delicious smell, and taste for that matter. I'd read in romance books that some women said they liked the taste of men's come, but for me, I'd always found it barely tolerable. My Mistress' was different. I thought back to the first time she'd allowed me to taste it, the recollection causing wetness to gather between my freshly showered legs. That night I'd knelt before her, taking in her length. I hadn't been able to see it at the time, but the stretching of my lips told me she was thick, and the fact that I couldn't get all of her in my mouth told me she was long. I'd deduced she was well endowed, and last night, with the blindfold removed, I saw that I'd been right. Perhaps her size was another reason I could still feel the tenderness between my legs.

As I relived that first time, and all of the times after, I recalled how she had not allowed me to touch her body. In fact, I'd never touched her until last night. When I had, I could tell right away something wasn't right. Her body was cool to the touch, and I wondered if she had some sort of illness. Perhaps she was on medication that made her come taste so good. Whatever it was, I prayed it wasn't something terminal. I couldn't stand it if I lost another person I loved.

I finished drying off and realized I didn't have any clothes to change into. I knew my Mistress had seen my body—inspected every inch of it, in fact—but I still wrapped the towel tightly around me and headed back into the playroom.

On my way though, I glanced quickly at the bed. I could see the evidence of our lovemaking, and instead of blushing like I normally would, I felt pride. I sighed and thought of the first time she'd entered me. Our eyes had been locked and she'd done it so slowly I thought I was going to die.

"Mine," she said as she pressed into me.

I felt my eyes grow wide as my pussy lips stretched around her cock.

It felt wonderful and I wanted more—I wanted all of her.

Just when I was starting to adjust, she pulled back a fraction of an inch and pressed back in again, almost as slowly as the first time. I looked into her eyes, pleading for her to continue.

"Am I hurting you?" she whispered. I shook my head, maintaining eye contact. "Then what is it, my butterfly? What is it you need? Speak."

I blinked once, then slowly opened my eyes, looked directly into hers, and moaned, "More. I need more."

She gave me what I wanted. Pulling all the way out, she entered me again quickly and with much more force. "Yes," I groaned, my eyes rolling back in my head. "Mmmmm, yes."

I smiled at the memory. It had been wonderful and it was only the first of many times she'd taken me last night. Hoping she would fuck me again today, I glanced around the room and wondered if it would be in the bed or in another place. That's when the picture on the wall caught my attention. It was another charcoal sketch. This one was a close up of breasts with a necklace—my necklace. The heart of my collar lay on the top of my left breast. She must have done it while I slept today, and I wished I wouldn't have slept so I could have watched her draw it.

I thought back to how I'd once heard Lauren sketching at work and it had reminded me of Mistress. Now I knew why. I loved watching Lauren draw, and I hoped that my Mistress would allow me to watch her create a sketch for the wall. Once again pushing aside jealousy, I ignored the illustrations that had been there before I'd entered the playroom and concentrated on the newest one. I could have stared at the piece for hours, but my Mistress had told me not to keep her waiting. Pulling the towel a bit tighter around my body, I left the playroom, hoping to return soon.