Insatiable - Chapter 1 - Under Her Spell - Sex Stories

Insatiable - Chapter 1 - Under Her Spell

... haven't even exchanged names.”

“I'm Kayden” he offered happily.

“Cassandra” she responded. “But you can call me Cassie.”

“Mistress Cassie?” he asked eagerly.

“Not yet. But we'll see.”

* * * * *

The wistful notes of Samuel Barber's Adagio For Strings flowed through the ornate study. The walls were lined with ancient books. The assortment of furniture arranged throughout the large room were all antiques, pieces from the Victorian period and beyond. Well polished hard wood fixtures that had survived the ages and been reupholstered many times in their long lives.

Sadie sat atop one such time-worn furnishing, her legs propped up on her favorite slave. She looked down at her blood-red heels. They contrasted nicely with the glossy black latex that covered Tristan's back. He quivered slightly, having held the position for a long while as Sadie read.

She loved Adagio For Strings. The pain and longing that had produced such a masterpiece was evident. It was sadness in its purest form. Every violin and cello relayed the suffering of ages. Each viola and bass rooted in anguish. Bound as surely as her slave was in glossy black.

Sadie enjoyed donning latex and leather as well, but not today. She was dressed in one of her many scarlet outfits, accented with black. Her corset was deep, lacy red, framed on both sides with black webbing. The front of it was decorated with shimmering white crystals that led up to her full, round, breasts. They burst from its ...

... opening; enticing peach-toned mounds on full display. Her long skirt was dark crimson, bathing her legs in the delicious feeling of purest silk. When on her feet, you could scarcely see the bottom of her boots. The end of her elegant dress hovered just an inch above the floor.

An inverted, bronze cross hung from her choker necklace. A wide stretch of glossy red webbing stretched around the back of her neck, adding style and elegance to her ensemble. She looked every bit the matriarch, because that's what she was. Fashion was the law in her order because dressing well was key to commanding respect. It was simultaneously a responsibility and a guilty pleasure that Sadie spent untold hours and vast sums of money reinforcing. She took it seriously and she made every member of her house did as well.

She turned the page of her book before lifting her feet from the gimp. He was splayed out on hands and knees before her, waiting patiently for Sadie's next command. “Tristan, be a dear and fetch me a CC. The thirst encroaches.”

He half-grunted as he stood, his aging limbs creaking after holding the position for so long. His glossy, black form bowed to her. The piercing blue eyes gazing out of the holes in his hood were the only distinguishing feature in his full-body fetish-wear. “Right away, Mistress.”

Tristan shuffled off and Sadie watched him go. He was so much slower now. Weaker. But that was to be expected. He was bordering on “old man” status at this point, and there was no ...