Please MIstress by Leasha

                                        by Leasha

I awake slowly, uncurling from the tangled mess that once was the neatly positioned sheets, yawning, stretching out. The alarm lies silent on the bedside cabinet, its florescent numbers blinking 09:00, I had slept all night.  Reaching over, I feel out towards the opposite side of the bed. Nothing.  “Mistress”.   Still nothing, the bed sheets, cool to the touch.  Mistress has not been in them for awhile.   Looking around the bedroom, my clothes sit neatly folded on the chair.  Mistress’s hang on hangers on the back to the door. She can’t have gone far. And then I hear it, the telltale sound of a dishwasher. “Ahh, cleaning.” I breathe a sigh of relief. Mistress is just doing Mistress Things. Laying my head back against the pillows, I whisper in a murmur “five more minutes, just five; then I will get up,” I yawn once again before rolling over, snuggling back under the covers and drifting off into a soft sleep.

“BEEEp BEEEEp BEEEp”  -- “What the hell.” I wriggle around the bed, searching for source of the harsh beeping. In my sleep-filled stupor I reach out towards the bed side table. “ What” I cry, tugging my arm upwards.  Panicking I tug my other arm upwards.  Nothing, I cannot move, "Mistress” I scream. “ Mistress”.  Over and over I call out, only to be met with silence.  Tugging more intensely, I find that my legs are also stuck. I cannot move from the bed. “Mistress, please” the desperation, seeping from every syllable, blends into a choked begging. Tears form in the corner of my eyes, threatening to burst forth with each moment of silence. “ Mistress, please” I beg as one of the tears breaks from the rest.  “ Please, please”.  I break down, lost in a sea of tears, my barrier breached. Sobbing, heaving breaths, I pull and pull and pull against the restraints holding me to the bed. “Mistress, please, Mistress.  Where are you?” I cry over and over, descending further and further into wracking sobs. My words drift into unrecognizable patterns of sobs, panic and desperation.

Leaning back on the bed, I realize that Mistress is not coming. Crying will not work. Calling out her name over and over will not get me anywhere. I take slow, deep breaths, attempting to calm my breathing. She has to be here somewhere.  She would not leave me completely. I feel it again: complete, utter hopelessness.  Desperation, longing and panic fill my senses and take over from rational thought.  She has left me. I cannot control that thought.  All logical thought leaves me. “Mistress,” I scream utterly panic-filled, and hyperventilating. Tears stream down my cheeks: snotty, wet, disgusting tears. I thrash about the bed, pulling with all my might on each arm. I cannot break the restraints. Completely deflated, sitting up in the bed, my arms still tightly fastened to the bed, I lean forward. Strands of my hair slip forwards and cling to my hot, wet, tear-stained face, whilst only small, soft sobs leave my lips. The rising and falling of my chest begins to slow, whilst my heart continues its attempts to break free from my chest. Exhausted from my screaming I collapse further forwards. My lips pitifully mouth one last word, “Mistress”.

A drumming sound catches my attention. I look up, with her fingers against the door frame, drumming, there she is -- standing in the doorway, one arm positioned against her hip, a questioning eye brow raised in annoyance. She just looks at me. “Mistress”.  I breathe a sigh of relief as the panic subsides. She has not left me. I am not alone. The look on her face paints a thousand words.  You know the look, the one that says, 'what the fuck'  whilst making you shit yourself almost at the same time. I know that look.  Containing myself, I lower my gaze, looking down at the disheveled bed spread. Then I hear it, that huff of air, as Mistress just turns away, returning to what she was doing before my pitiful scene.

I lie back down, resting my head on the pillow.  At least I know for sure that I am not alone.  That makes my predicament slightly more bearable, until it hits me: that horrid, unyielding, never satisfied, forever taunting, once it is in your mind it is stuck feeling. I have to pee!!

I wriggle back and forth, trying to make my mind think of other things.  The weather? Nope, it is raining.  That doesn't help, so I think about lunch.  Mmmmm, what will be for lunch?  Nope, that does not last long.  My mind moves onto thinking about a nice cup of tea. Nothing is working. I hold my legs together as tightly as I physically can, all the while wriggling around, biting my lips. Should I call out? The look from Mistress earlier was a "dare to call out again and see what happens" look. Did I dare to call out?  No, I'm not that desperate. I can wait. So I do, for what seems like an hour, I lie wriggling, thinking about other things, attempting to distract my mind. I cannot do it any longer.  It is slow torture. I cave. “ Mistress” I call. “ Please Mistress.” Nothing.  I sit up once again.  That's the biggest mistake ever, since it puts more pressure on my bladder, I let out an involuntary squeal of alarm. “Mistress, please,” I try calling out a little louder, “I really have to go!”  The desperation is once again creeping into my voice as I plead.  Silently I think: 'Please Mistress, come through'. My groaning turns to whimpering.  Still Mistress is not there. The longer I wait the more the tightness in my tummy increases.  “Please, please, Mistress”.  I hear the creak of the floorboard outside the bedroom. I tug harshly against my restraints “Mistress, I need to go”. Without a word, she enters, pulls the key from round her neck, pulls one of my wrists free and then drops the key onto the bed. She then is gone again.  In my flustered state, I fumble with the key, putting it in backwards, up-ways, back-ways, any way but the right way.  I dance around  before finally getting my second wrist free.  With both free hands, the removal of my ankles takes less time.  Scrambling across the covers I make a dash for the door. I tug the handle, yank it open, run (well, more hop/dance down the hall) and go straight into the bathroom. As I sit down, the question niggling in the back of my mind is answered. (Where is Mistress?) Standing in the doorway, twirling the key, Mistress waits until I am done, and then silently escorts me back to the bedroom. All my attempts to speak are shot down with 'that' look: the look that says 'keep trying'. Back to bed I go and, the restraints refastened, am left alone, spread eagled, but without covers this time.

Lunch time comes and goes.  The light from the window slowly dims, and still I lie on the bed. About 3 pm Mistress peers around the door, laughing to herself.  Still I lie still.  I do not dare break the look. When 6 pm arrives Mistress enters the room, folds her arms, and looks down upon me.  Cautiously I raise my eyes and meet her gaze. Am I finally to be freed?  Yer and right spring to mind.  Alas I am right.  Mistress picks up a small locked case sitting by the bedside.  The code to the lock only she knows. Inside the purple dome of a Hitachi is visible against the black foam lining the case. My heart sinks.  I know what is coming next. Mistress smiles a wickedly evil smile, plugs in the wand and looks down on me. I cannot hide my fear. My body trembles as I recall the last time this device was used on me. She slips a harness around her waist and clips the Hitachi into place.  I groan softly and lean my head against the pillow.  I tense my eyes shut as I lie and wait.  I know the rumble of intense pleasure immediately followed by even more pleasure -- before ultimately leaving me in immense pain. Mistress slips the wand into the harness. I wait, breath bated. I won’t lie.  I am exceedingly turned on at this moment, but she just walks away. I open one eye peeking after her.  A breath I have been holding in finally slips from my lips as I lie waiting -- again.

A low grumble of vibrations starts.  Sensations shimmer through my lower body, moving upwards, coursing through my intimate areas. Finally they reach the most delicate area of all, my clitoris. Nestled tightly between my thighs the harness ensures the wand -- not yet on full power -- cannot move far. As the vibrations travelthey send wave after wave of sweet pleasure through my clitoris. I groan louder and louder as the wand presses upon me  As I tug at the restraints, her every movement presses the wand tighter against my pussy until I can no longer hold back. I let out a cry of pleasure.  My orgasm shudders though my body.  The vibrations, which continue through my release, never fully allow my body to come back down. I strain hard against the restraint and I wriggle around the bed.  I tug my feet apart.  My breasts jiggle with every movement, intensifying the pleasure emanating from the wand. My clitoris, still swollen from the first wave, presses hard against the wand, each touch causing another gasp and squeal. My breathing increases.  I gasp audibly, whilst attempting to hold myself together.  No, I cannot.  I cannot hold back!  I orgasm a second time and scream with pleasure, my back arching upwards. My toes curl into the softness of the bed, the sheets beneath my pussy.  The wand shows exactly how aroused I am.  Sticky, wet cum seeps from between my swollen pussy lips, coating the wand and marking the bed sheet. I breathe hard and fight against the wand. Licking my now dry lips, I see a smile on Mistress’s face, from the side.  She is standing against the wall with her arms folded.  She is watching, waiting.  She knows I cannot keep this up.

I moan, writhe, buckle and squirm, as I attempt  to gain some relief from the onslaught of the wand, I cannot free myself from its clutches.  Once again I begin heading towards another climax.  The pain of it is starting to etch its way onto my clitoris. I scream -- breaking the communication silence with Mistress, I call out her name “Mistress” whilst clawing at the sheets.  My back arches once again and a feral groan escapes my lips. The brief periods of relief between orgasms are beginning to get shorter and shorter . After orgasm number three a slick sheen of sweat glistens against my pale skin.  The vibrations of the Hitachi are still going strong.  Between deep groaning breaths I scream “ Mistress! Please!” Tears slide down from my eyes and glisten on my cheeks as pleasure slowly turns into pain.

My tears turn into pleading, begging groans.  My body quivers against the Hitachi, still fighting to get free  I am lost in my own orgasms. I cry out in anguish. “Mistress please, please, stop”. I can no longer sit upright and the muscles in my stomach quiver, unable to support my own weight.  Orgasm number four sends pleasure waves through my body but no relief  is granted from this release.  My swollen lips and clitoris can take no more.  The light film of glistening sweat has changed to a thick coating.  My tears, once only trickling, now stream from my eyes as I beg with every fiber of my body: “ Mistress! Please!”.

The wand stops.  Mistress stands with the Hitachi's plug in her hand, a satisfied smile on her lips.  She turns to leave the room. Completely exhausted I lie in a puddle of my own cum and juices.  I am still held in place by my restraints. I fall asleep and do not know how long I lie there, but Mistress eventually comes in and releases me from the restraints.  A glass of water is on the nightstand when I awake.  I drink deeply from the glass.  Mistress sits beside me.  In my eagerness to drink I had not seen her there. I open my mouth to speak, but her fingers touch my lips.  Without words she silences me, laying my head down onto her lap, Mistress comforts me stroking my head.  Once again I drift into sleep.