My Interview with a lesbian & how she became a slave 5 of 10

My Interview with a lesbian & how she became a slave 5 of 10


I didn't even hesitate as I responded, my body desperate for release, "Mistress Amber, please let your little slut come."

My clit was suddenly frantically rubbed and in seconds my orgasm hit me just as my face was coated with pussy juice from the cunt above my face.

Waking up yet again from an orgasm induced dream, I couldn't believe how I got off being called slut and calling Amber Mistress. Why were all my dreams having Amber pop up in them? It was a frustrating question that I had no reasonable answer. I wasn't a lesbian and even if I was going to experiment it wasn't going to be with a bitch like Amber.

Day four was another pampering day where I spent hours getting every inch of my body made over. I had a full skin revitalizing as my skin was exfoliated, nourished and pampered, my skin literally becoming softer. A vitality wrap followed as did a manicure, a pedicure, foot soak and much to my shock a Brazilian (I had always went with the all natural look, so this took quite a bit of time and hurt a fair amount). Time in the Jacuzzi and a facial occurred after lunch and the afternoon ended with a haircut and red streaks added which seemed to make me look even younger. All the while, I was fed the most delicious cocktails ever and by the time I had supper I was not drunk, but well past tipsy.

Alone in my room, my hand went to my completely shaved pussy and I began rubbing myself. Horny as hell, my fingers were not enough and I went to the mini-bar and grabbed an empty wine bottle. I fell on the nearby couch, closed my eyes and began rubbing the bottle up and down my wet pussy lips.

Again Spencer who had continued to ignore my relentless flirtation popped into my head as the bottle neck slowly slid between my swollen lips and inside my needy pussy. But as I began sliding the makeshift cock in and out of me the images of who was fucking me changed. First it was Bao with a strap-on cock, then Marty the clearly gay black who had done my hair, next was the red haired Tiffany pumping her fingers into me, then it was Matthew my first boyfriend and it ended again with Amber this time slamming a strap-on cock in and out of me with that same smug smile she had in my office.

I screamed as my much needed orgasm waved through me as my mind played tricks on me. I had never considered a woman sexually, yet I couldn't help but notice the beauty of every woman who worked here, nor could I deny the reality that as much as I hated Amber's attitude, her long legs and confident demeanor had me in awe of her.

Like every other day at this relaxation paradise, I crashed early and slept through the night.


Day five was another repeat of days one and three. Again, Tiffany gave me a thorough massage, her hands so smooth and tender. It was like she put me on constant tease, her hands tantalizing close to my breasts and pussy. In the end leaving me high and wet.

I was to meet with Dr. Washington after lunch. I approached the meeting with apprehension as I realized I had not been able to answer his very simple question.

As soon as the session started, he asked, "So, were you able to answer the question I left you with yet, Cassandra?"

An hour later, I had thoroughly been psycho analyzed and felt like I had been mentally mind-fucked. As I returned to my room, so many questions still lingered in my head as did my answers to his questions:

"What makes you happy?" he opened with.

I considered the answer a long time. "My store being successful," I finally answered.

"Are you currently happy?" he pressed on.

Again I pondered the question and his real intention for asking such a question. "Of course, I am happy. I enjoy my life and have very few regrets."

"What regrets do you have?" he asked, pulling out one word from my response.

"Well of course I have made sacrifices to have a successful store, mostly in regards to losing touch with friends and making White Wedding more important than any relationship."

"Do you regret those sacrifices?" he dug deeper.

"Oh sure, every once and in a while a 'what if' thought pops in my head, but that is natural for everyone," I said, trivializing the assessment.

Changing topics it seemed, he asked, "What do you want in life?"

I answered without hesitation. "For my store to be successful enough, that I could travel more and maybe have time for a relationship."

"Can't you have both? A successful store and a happy relationship"

"I have never found that to be the case," I admitted.

A little while later after he asked me my view of love my definition of success and asks about my past relationships before he changed topic again. "What would you do if your shop failed?"

"It can't," I answered.

"Why not?" he pushed.

"It is all I have," I admitted. I couldn't imagine my store ever failing, as my identity and White Wedding had blurred into one. I was my White Wedding and White Wedding was me.

"What you have to ask yourself is if you are ok with that?" he asked, just as time was up.

As I was leaving, my mind spinning with more questions than answers after my time with the doctor, "I want you to spend tonight making up a bucket list. What you want to do before you die," the doctor instructed me.

These questions bounced inside my head while I was relaxing in the hot springs, during supper and as I sat on the beach and watched the sunset. I made up my bucket list which came flowing out of me way easier than I thought it would.

1. To have my store successful again.

2. To travel all of Europe.

3. To fall in love.

4. To learn another language.

5. To write a book.

6. To read more.

7. To see the Rolling Stones live.

8. To become a better cook.

9. To meet Brad Pitt (actually to fuck Brad Pitt)

10. I learn to make my own wine.

11. To wear a wedding dress.

12. Want to kiss a girl and maybe more.

After writing number twelve, I paused and re-read it. Before a few days ago such an idea would never have popped into my head, but there it was. Closing my eyes I again imagined Bao, Tiffany and Amber seducing me.

My hand wandered to my already slightly damp pussy and I began rubbing my clit as yet another fantasy popped into my head. There was no Spencer this time, just Bao, Tiffany and Amber each taking me. I begged Bao to lick my pussy, I begged Tiffany to fuck me with a strap-on cock, and I begged Amber to let me please her, by licking her pussy.

Amber smiled suddenly at my desk, in my chair, as she ordered, "Crawl to me Cassie."

I obeyed silently, my face burning with shame and excitement. This was MY office.

"Good girl, Cassie," she purred as I crawled towards her.

"Under my desk like a good little pet," she ordered.

I instantly obeyed, turned on by the order even as my head screamed no. Once under my desk, she opened her legs and asked, "Does Cassie want to eat my cunt?"

"Yes," I answered without hesitation.

"Yes what, slut?" she asked.

Although being called 'slut' was like a slap in the face, I reworded, "Yes, ma'am."

"It's Mistress you dumb cunt," Amber snapped, her glare burning right through me.

"S-s-sorry, yes Mistress Amber," I stammered, ashamed at my eagerness to please and yet desperate to make her happy.

"Beg bitch," she ordered, her fingers slowly spreading her pussy lips.

An insatiable hunger welled up inside of me and the words out of my mouth were unlike any I had ever said before (when with a man I was always the one in charge), "Please, let your slut eat your wet cunt. Make me your cunt pleaser."

Her smile was smug, just like it was in my office that first day, as she grabbed me by the hair and pulled me into her wetness.

I came hard on the beach as the bizarre fantasy brought an intense rush of pleasure through me. Realizing where I was, I opened my eyes and went red in shame as I saw a few others were watching me rub myself to orgasm. Even as my body continued to twitch with pleasure, I grabbed my journal and scurried into my room mortified by my actions.

Once inside, I burst out laughing suddenly amused at the reality of what I had done. Although embarrassed, I didn't know any of those people and it was liberating to think that I had done something so taboo.

I finished my bucket list while having a hot bath and went to bed wondering what was planned for me my last full day.

Day six started shockingly with me having an orgasm in my sleep.

In my vivid dream, I was woken up with a tongue lapping at my pussy. I shot up and stammered, pulling the sheets off me and staring into Boa’s sweet eyes, "W-w-what are you doing?"

Boa looked up and explained, "Ms. Amber instructed I must wake you up with an orgasm."

"What?" I said, equally flabbergasted by both the act and the reason.


"Sorry ma'am, but Amber's instructions were very clear," Bao explained, still between my legs. Without another word, Boa returned between my legs licking me gently, slowly getting me warmed up and wet, a slow burn wake-up call. I lay back and enjoyed the gentleness surprised at just how good having my pussy licked could be. Most men I was intimate with were either terrible pussy lickers, or didn't even bother going down on me, but Boa had obviously done this before.

The slow increasing build up finally came to a crashing wave after an eternity of sweet tease and I came harder than I ever had with a man.

I jolted up and saw that I was alone in my room. I couldn't believe just how real the dream felt and that evidence was prevalent from the wetness between my legs. The dream itself was strange, but stranger was the fact that somehow Amber had again been a part of it.

After a shower and breakfast, where I couldn't help but look at Bao in a different light before I was surprised once again.

Boa said, "Today Ms. Amber has planned a very full last day for you."

The mention of Ms. Amber had my naughty wet dream popping instantly into my head. "She did?" I asked.

Boa nodded yes please follow me.

I followed Boa to a new room that had a fashion show runway where I met Eleanor, a well dressed woman in, of course, five inch heels.

"Hello Ms. Williams" the ridiculously beautiful woman greeted.

"Hi," I replied, before asking, "And what do you have in store for me?"

"Cat walk training," she answered, pointing to the runway.

"Really?" I asked.

"Yes, Ms. Amber insisted you have a couple of hours of practice," Eleanor explained.

"Why?" I questioned, the expectation absurd.

"No idea, but Ms. Amber expects women to dress to impress and to walk the walk," she answered, pointing to her heels, "in five inch heels."

"Why does everyone wear such ludicrous heels?" I asked.

She smiled, as if my question was silly, "Ms. Amber expects all her employees to wear five inch heels."

"But she is my employee," I pointed out.

Eleanor shrugged, "I have no idea about your situation, but here she trained all of us to dress professionally but with a touch of sexiness and five inch heels."

"Oh," was all I could get out.

"Ms. Amber sent over three outfits and a few pairs of heels for you to try on and expects you wearing one of them when you return," Eleanor explained.

"Well, I think I am fine with what I always wear," I replied, turning to leave.

Eleanor's tone shifted to worried as she pleaded, "Ms. Williams, please reconsider. If Ms. Amber has requested it, trust me there is a reason. She turned our near bankrupt spa into the most sought after spa in America. She knows what she is doing."

"Well, it could be fun," I shrugged, not wanting to give in, but seeing an odd fear in Eleanor's tone and demeanor.

Clearly relieved, she said, "Come this way."

By nutbuster