Making a Mistress

This excerpt is from the Making A Mistress series, available on Smashwords.

The Portland House was the first on my list for the Assessments. Jeremy got half the Houses to assess, I got the other half. Our boss, Dalia, created the assignments to give us a break from all the memories we had made at the Founding House. She was right; I needed to get the hell out of there for a while. So did he. She scheduled it so we would stay on opposite sides of the globe, or as she put it, "…to give you both some space."

"A whole planet's worth of space?" I smirked.

"I'd give you two the whole solar system, if I could, Dearie."  Dalia did not do drama.

---

As I prepared for the evening's party, I tried to wipe away the memories of the morning. My silver dress made my copper hair shine, and as I penciled my lipliner, I thought of Jeremy's fingers there.

I had left my tablet at Dalia's and had to stop there before the airport. I knew Jeremy might be there, but if I went early enough, he'd be asleep. It was cold, quiet, and dark at 5 in the morning. I heard splashing, so I went to the pool terrace.

A nude Jeremy swam laps in the heated pool. His glorious pale skin glowed under the full moonlight. He saw me. Fuck. Every hurt, every sex, every scene was like an ocean between us.  He stared, as he cleared the stairs at the shallow end. His breath fogged the chilly air. Without a word, he kissed me. He was ice, but I was on fire for him. My soft fur coat must have felt incredible on his bare wet flesh. He grew hard, as I grew wet. I willingly drowned in our undertow.

As we kissed, he backed me up to a patio table. I sat on the edge, he pulled my coat and dress up, and we growled when his cold cock entered me. Jeremy pounded into me. We kissed the whole time, and I had no thoughts.

I didn’t question whether it was right or wrong or damaging to either of us. I needed him inside me, like oxygen. I clung to his body, and he moaned in my mouth. My box throbbed, and he jerked inside me. Sounds soared from one mouth to the other. No language needed; they were the words naked humans had spoken since the beginning of time.

I knew he loved me, and he knew I loved him. But, there was too much hurt between us and too much to do. He broke our kiss to stroke my bottom lip, like he needed to memorize its shape. We stared for a breath, then walked away from each other at the same time. He left for his apartment by the pool, and I headed to a new adventure.

---

I had no idea an oenophilia orgy was scheduled for my first evening. Beaujolais Nouveau season was upon them, and the House Mistress, Amanda, liked to kick things off on the right foot. Over 150 people writhed, poured wine on or in each other, licked it away and fucked for all to see. I had myself a seat on a lounger, because why not. The whole scene reminded me of the bacchanalias Dalia held back home.

“Enjoying the show?” Red asked from behind me. Damn, he was pretty. Like the handsome Jewish doctor every TV mom wanted their daughter to marry. His black leather pants were fitted enough to convince me I’d have a very good time with him.  

“I am, Master Red. And yourself?”

“Always. The Portland House is where I come to decompress,” he sipped what looked like water and watched the festivities.  

“You don’t drink?”

He clarified, “This is moonshine, Mistress.”

I was excited, “Ooo, is there some for everyone, or just you?”

He laughed, “This is from my private stash. I’d be happy to share it with you, but it's in my room, you’d have to leave this place, and I think you’re about to be tagged in.” He gestured with his head toward the orgy. 

Pax and Willow headed my way. He was muscular, African American and light-skinned. His afro was a few inches long, and his left arm was inked up. Willow’s long pink hair was high in a ponytail and her pale body was entirely nude and devoid of tattoos. She looked like she could grant wishes with those round hips. “Mistress Collette,” she smiled seductively, “you’re too lovely to be here all alone.”

“Master Red was kind enough to keep me company, Mistress Willow.”

She made a face at Red, and their animosity went unspoken. 

Pax chuckled, “Willow is no Mistress, Cupcake.” He leaned down to say in my ear, “And you’re not one either, but that can be our little secret.”

I stood and peered into his dark eyes, as I stroked his sternum. My voice softened to draw him in, “Master Pax, you don’t know me, and so I will not hold your doubt against you.”  My hand drifted downward into his brown leather pants. He was better hung than I had imagined. My voice thickened with menace, “But disrespect me again,” I squeezed his cock and he winced, “and I’ll show you exactly what I am.” I released him, and he coughed. I smiled at the girl and Red, “Another time, Willow. Master Red, I’d like that drink now.”

“Right this way, Mistress,” he gave me a wide berth, as did Willow and Pax. We left the ballroom, and he asked, “How did Pax earn that?”

“You’re certain he earned it? Perhaps I am short-tempered,” I smirked. The Portland House's halls had the feel of an old ski lodge, but the look of a brothel: woodwork everywhere, with small carvings of Roman-style pornography. I liked the tiny flying phalluses.

He laughed, “There are quite a few rumors about you.”

“I am too sober to discuss rumors,” I smiled.

“We’ll fix that.” He opened the door, and it was like a small loft with a fireplace wall for the room divider. “Have a seat, Mistress.  Do you prefer your moonshine straight or-

“Yes,” I sat, and he turned the fire on. I asked, “Why did Pax decide to piss me off?”

He delivered the shine, then sat on the other end of the couch. “Pax doesn't believe in Switches, only Masters and slaves. A Switch is a confused slave, to him." He paused, before he said, "And for you, a Switch, to be a House-Mistress-in-training, well, he finds that to be a slap in the face, especially since men are ineligible for the position.”

I laughed and rolled my eyes, “So, he decided to piss me off because he’s an idiot.”

“Well, to be fair, most Switches lean one way or the other. What about yourself, more submissive or Dominant?”

I sipped my moonshine, “Started off as a submissive. But, my other side became stronger over time. My preference is both.”

“And I prefer Switches. More of a challenge,” he winked.

“So, what are the rumors you spoke of?”

He smiled, “I understand it was Mia Hernandez who recruited you to the Founding House, and Mistress Dalia has been enamored ever since. You are the ex-girlfriend of Master Jeremy Flynn. You are good friends with Master Simon Abador, a man with notoriously particular tastes. You’ve been publicly whipped to orgasm, which is something I’d love to" he sighed, "…see. But what interests me the most about you is what happened in Shanghai with you and Mistress Gigi.”

"Oh that," I finished my moonshine, “I’m suddenly dry.”  

“No one wants that,” he took my glass and refilled me. “You seem bothered that I asked about your session with Gigi, yet you allowed the session to be filmed.  Here,” he handed my refill over. “Why let that happen?”

Because I didn’t know someone filmed it. “How do you know about Shanghai?”

“Grayson’s film was," he swallowed hard and exhaled lust itself, "…I have watched that video a few times, in anticipation of your visit,” he leaned closer, as though he was confiding a secret, “The artistry intoxicated me.”

Grayson, the Seattle piece of ass I nailed in Shanghai, was my videographer. That little shit. I lied, “And that’s why I didn’t mind it being filmed.”

“Do you have any intent to perform like that again?” he raised an eyebrow at the thought.

I leaned closely, “Under the right circumstances, Master, there is very little I wouldn’t do.” A tiny smirk slipped into my eyes.

He was hungry for my submissive side. Then, he caught my smirk. “Oh,” he laughed, “You’re having a bit of fun at my expense, aren’t you?.”

I laughed, too, “A bit, but that’s not to say it isn’t true. Master, where do you get your moonshine? This tastes just like what I grew up on.”

“The Charleston House, in anticipation of your visit. You’ll find a stash in the cabinets of your suite, as well.”

That surprised me. “You are a considerate host.”

“What else may I do to see to your hospitality?” his smirk game had become stronger.

“Why is my hospitality up to you?”

“The hospitality of our guests is the job of everyone in the Portland House.”

“You’re a Member, not an employee.”

“I would happily pay for the privilege of seeing to your hospitality, Mistress.”

I was nearly drunk, but very aware of where this was headed. I giggled, “Would you?”  

“I would,” he leaned closer, “I would do many, many things to take care of your needs.”

I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck and fingered the ends of his short brown hair, then kissed him. His mouth tasted like moonshine, and his lips were soft. My pussy ached for him. He was warm and handsome, and I had to stop. I backed off, but he came forward to continue the kiss. “Wait, wait.”  

“What’s wrong?”

“I have a pattern of jumping into sex. I’m sorry. I need to try something different.” I couldn’t believe those words came out of my mouth, but they felt true.

He sat back and disappointment was clear on his face, but then he smiled and raised an eyebrow, “You need a break from your dastardly ways.”

I laughed, “Something like that. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine. Another drink?”

I giggled, “Are you trying to get me drunk, sir?”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure you’re just about there now,” he took my glass to refill it, “But, you seemed to be enjoying the moonshine, clearly there is something bothering you, so you need more alcohol, and I am, after all, seeing to your hospitality.”

“Water?”

“Coming right up," he smiled and went to the kitchen.

It occurred to me, “I don’t think I’ve ever said no to sex before.  Not really.”

Red laughed, as he delivered my water and sarcastically said, “I’m so very honored to be your first.”

"One more virginity lost," I giggled.  “And to someone so handsome.”

He smiled, “You think I’m handsome?”

“Don’t you?” I giggled again. Hooray for moonshine.

“Well, yes, but most girls don’t come out and say it.”

I winked, “I am not most girls.”

“Tell me, Mistress Collette, is there anything else I can do for you this evening?” 

“Tell me about the Seattle House, you're friends with Grayson? Or does he share that video with everyone?”

He smiled immediately. “Only his good friends. Seattle is darker than the hippy collective you find here.”

“And yet, you smiled when I asked about it.”

“I have a variety of tastes, and I go to Seattle when I need something more serious.”

I knew about some of his travels, “And you go to Tokyo when…?”

“When I want something out of the ordinary.”

“You're too young to have the money to travel on a whim.”

He smiled, “I’m not that young.”

I laughed, “You can’t be more than 24, 25...”

“I’m 35.”

I shrugged, “I rounded down. So, how?”

“My family owns diamond mines. We’ve done it for over 150 years. We process the diamonds ourselves and turn them into wearable art.”

“A dear friend of mine gave me a vintage Harry Winston set. I wonder if it’s made of your family’s diamonds.”

He smiled proudly, “Could be. I’d love to see you in that set and nothing else.”

“Perhaps one day, you will, Master Red.”

“Is today that day?”

“But, I-

“Not sex,” he waved his hand at my concern. “I learned a long time ago that if I don’t ask for what I want, I’ll never get it. And, I would be remiss if I didn’t ask to see you. Naked. On my bed. Covered in diamonds.”

"And that’s really all you want?”

“Not hardly,” he smirked.  

I thought for a moment, then whispered, “Yes.”

“Yes?” he was surprised.

“Yes.”

His Dominant voice was like a growl made of words, “Go around the fire wall, to my bed. Take off your clothes. Lay face up on top of the sheets.”  

My pussy was made wetter by the anticipation. I followed his instructions and watched the fire from the bed as I waited.  

He brought a black bag and had lost his shirt. Muscles and manscaped brown hair decorated his frame. “Legs tight together.”  

I watched as he poured dozens of the things in the Y of my thighs and pussy. My sparkly bikini bottom tickled as it landed. He emptied the entire cloth bag on me there; must have been over a hundred large diamonds. “I am going to take your picture, Mistress.”

I challenged him, “Are you?”

“You have over a million dollars on that lovely piece of you. I would like a picture.”

I smiled, “Very well, then.”  

“And I want diamonds on those perfect pink nipples of yours, too, but I’d have to wet your skin to make them stick…”

I moaned, “Whatever you want, Master.”

He liked hearing that. They all did. Red bent over my body, then licked each nipple slowly as he looked in my eyes. I shivered under his tongue. He pulled another bag from his pocket, then sprinkled much smaller diamonds on the wet skin. "Hold very still, Lovely Girl.” I did, and he took his pictures. “Now, I’d like some pictures on your stomach.”

“But, if I move-

“I’ll take them off. Wouldn’t want to abrade your pretty white skin. Yet.” First, he slowly picked the ones from my hard nipples. It was excruciating. My breath sped up, and I tried to calm myself so I wouldn’t fuck him. For some reason. Then, he started on the diamonds down below. He plucked them one by one. At the start, it wasn’t that noticeable, but he slowed down as the closer he was to my skin. My legs shook with the anticipation of each grab. “Now, I must touch you to retrieve the last few. Do I have your permission?” He wanted my complicity in his touch. Red liked pushing his luck.  

“Yes, Master.”

He methodically pinched the last few away. He missed the diamonds a couple of times, and I shot him a dirty look for each accident. “Onto your stomach.”  

I rolled over and felt a slight scratch. “Missed one.”

He flirted, “Spread your legs, and I’ll find it.”

“Maybe I should keep it.”

“It’s yours, if you want it.”

I spread my knees apart, “I’d like you to retrieve it.”

“If you’re certain,” he stared there.

“Yes,” I moaned. He spread my ass apart first, and I said, "That’s not where it went.”

“Being thorough.” His fingers glided around my sensitive bits, then under me. “The diamond was on the bed, Mistress, underneath you.”

“Oops.”

“If you were a slave, I’d spank you for that. Legs together, please.”  

I smiled into the pillow as I pulled my legs together.  

“Such a shame you’re not here for a spanking, God, your ass just begs for it.”

“My ass begs for many things, Master. But, I believe you were taking pictures?”

“Mm hmm, and if I am to get the diamonds to stay in place for the pics, I'll need-

“To wet the skin? Go ahead.”

He climbed the bed, and his knees were on either side of my ribs. Red licked down my ass in the pattern of a thong, then sprinkled the diamonds where he’d licked. “Hold still.”  He moved my hair straight down my back and took his pictures.  

I tried so hard to stay still; I wanted copies of the photos myself. But, my mind swam in a sea of lust and moonshine, and the waves crashed over my better nature.  

“Done. I’m going to retrieve the diamonds, be still or they'll slide where you don't want them.”  

By the end, I was ready to jump him. But, something held me back. As he pulled the last one away, I deeply wanted him to fuck me and still knew it was a bad idea. Was this maturity? God, it sucked.

“I’ll send you a copy, if you’d like.”

My voice trembled, but I struggled to strengthen it, “Yes, please.  It’s not every day I’m covered in diamonds and have my pictures taken by firelight.”

He laid next to me. “What is your every day like?”

I turned my face to him, with the pillow on my right cheek, “Every day of mine is something new. I don’t really have much of a routine anymore. You?”

“I don’t suffer from routine either. I am currently suffering other things, though,” he looked down my ass, then back to my face.  

I smirked, “Then, I should go, I don’t want you to suffer." I put my hands under my shoulders to get up.  

He laughed, I dropped and turned to face him because laughter was not what I expected, then he spoke slowly, “Yes, you do. You want me to suffer you, before you decide whether to give into your urges. You want me to think of all the ways I want to test you. Feel you on me. Make you come. You want it all. My lust, my suffering,” he leaned very close to me, “Thing is: I want that, too, from you. I want you to suffer me. To think about all the things I want to do to you. Feel me on you. Think about making me come. When I pulled the diamonds from you, I felt your wet lust, your suffering. I know you want me."

My lips parted, as my twat swelled. He was much smarter than I thought.

"And, for tonight, that’s enough. You may get dressed now.”

I laughed at my own shock, “Are you kicking me out?”

“Not exact-

I leaned over and kissed him. As we kissed, I maneuvered myself on top of him, then grinded on his leather pants. He was firm, so my slippery anatomy slid happily on the warm leather.  His hands grabbed my ass and pulled me harder against him. I ached to have him inside me. But said, “Now, I’m leaving.” I tried to get up, but his hands stayed on my ass.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he panted.

“Nope. Release me.”

He let go, looked up, and blew air hard from his mouth in frustration.  

I pulled my silver booty shorts up and taunted him, “You said, for tonight, my wanting you is enough. I’d hate to give you too much, Master Red. I don't know if you could take it.”

He laughed with just a hint of bitterness, “Alright, then, Mistress.” He sat up and glanced over me. “If I ever get you in my bed again, I want you in those panties.”

“You like shiny things, don’t you?”

“I really do.”

I bent over, with my ass in his face, to pick up my dress, and he growled under his breath. I turned and looked over my shoulder, “Now, now.”

“You put that ass in my face one more time, and I will not be held accountable for what happens next.”

I slipped my matching silver dress over my head. “Goodnight, Master Red.”

“Can I?  Just once?”

I debated it.  “Just once.”

He stood behind me, then put his left arm in front of my hips. His right hand bent me forward over it, then raised my hem. He smacked my ass, then let my dress drop back into place. His hands found my waist and held me there for a moment longer. My spine vibrated while my skin sizzled for his touch. 

3, 2… He nuzzled into my hair, then said right next to my ear, “Let me see you to the door.” He pressed the small of my back to guide me, and once I was in the hallway, he smiled, “Goodnight, Mistress Collette. Sleep well.”

“You, too.” I stumbled on shaking legs but managed to get to my suite.

C Pells is the author of the Making A Mistress series, available on Smashwords. She is a biologist and has practiced BDSM for over two decades, both professionally and personally. Her hobbies include cooking, heinous fuckery, and beach preservation.

Kneel before her on Twitter @CPells2