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Euphoria - Book One Claudette (drkfetyshnyghts)


Euphoria - Book One Claudette by drkfetyshnyghts

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A sprawling epic story of micro managed, controlled and deliberate, woman-on-woman revenge. Dripping lesbian sex, fetish and addiction, this story encapsulates the total domination of a woman and her daughter by another woman.

When successful, statuesque City worker and entrepreneur Claudette launches a huge, unprovoked verbal, physical and borderline racist attack on a young Arabic girl so begins a 10 year time line that results in true decimation and destruction for Claudette. She loses everything in spectacular fashion. The phrase ‘lost everything’ is bandied about too often but what is there left to take once all the material things are gone? Well there’s dignity, there’s pride, oh yes and the soul, lets not forget the soul. And then, let’s not forget also there is the eighteen year old daughter. For mother and daughter life will never be the same, ever. Part 1 of 2.

Product type: EBook    Published by: Fiction4All    Published: 3 / 2011

We do not recommend this book for readers under 18 years of age

No. words: 41560

Style: BDSM/Bondage - Content: Moderate -    Fem Dom - F/F, Bondage/BDSM Fetishes, Gay/Lesbian/Bisexual BDSM

Available Formats: Palm  MobiPocket (MOBI)  EPUB  Sony Reader (LRF)  PDF  MS Reader  MS Word  Text  RTF  This book has a format which can be downloaded to Kindle

Current all-time sales ranking: #139


Excerpt..

Claudette was bushed from the attention to her sex, but she was hungry for more of those sensations, those deep penetrating intense sensations she had experienced. Oh god she wanted more of that but she also wanted a taste of that elusive cum. She wanted to feel that cum, that thing that threatened to send her into orbit. That thing she had never felt before but that promised so much. The denial hadn’t made her not want the orgasm. On the contrary, it had made her want it even more. She was becoming addicted just to the promise of what those orgasms held. Let alone what they would actually deliver. Oh she wanted that orgasm so fucking badly. She groaned and laid back, legs folded and spread wide. Her saturated leaking, oily sex exposed and undulating as she pushed it out from the inside.
The second attempt had brought nothing but what sounded like a distressed grunt from Claudette. She wanted to orgasm. She wanted it so badly. Yazmyn wasn’t giving it to her and yet the stunning Arabic beauty was letting her think there was something wrong with her. How could such a stunning, apparently kind, softly spoken woman do that to another? Claudette had no idea that Yazmyn was deliberately and coldly denying her the orgasms she was making Claudette crave so badly. Claudette’s breathing was becoming laboured and deep. Her huge chest was heaving, expanding and deflating as she breathed but it was clear too that a mental effect of not experiencing that orgasm was beginning to take its toll.
On the third attempt, Yazmyn encouraged Claudette to turn over, onto her hands and knees, and then lower herself onto her elbows so that her huge breast weight was taken by the bed. Once again knees wide, sex exposed and available and this time thrust back and with her curvy quite wide hips, and bottom high. Claudette was becoming very aware of the sight she must have presented. It was mingled in with a new sensation, a new feeling of guilt that she was making Yazmyn work so hard for her. That is how she was feeling. There was still the need and an urgent greed for that elusive orgasm, but now the humiliation had returned. Yes the humiliation had returned to sweep over her as she semi-sobbed into ultra expensive red satin sheets. That humiliation compounded by the sound of Yazmyn removing that first pair of latex gloves; that snapping sound of elastic latex, and then the Arabic woman just resting the soiled gloves on the highest point of Claudette’s ass, almost slapping the soiled latex gloves on Claudette’s bare, high bared flesh.
“I’ve never needed more than one pair of gloves before, Claudette.”
The voice was soft from behind her, but Claudette still felt something of a stinging, accusatory tone in the quality of the voice. It was just a little, a tiny little bit. It would have seemed a lot to Claudette though, in her present state of undress, and with the state of her mind at this precise time.
“I’m sorry Yasmyn truly.”
It was a wet sobbing sorry into the sheet and Yazmyn worked coolly, calmly and without batting an eyelid.
“No need for you to be sorry sweetie. I’m going to sort you out today if it’s the last thing I do. Just hold it, as you are there, I need to put on an apron as well as fresh gloves. This could get a bit messy.”
Ah god those soft Arabic tones just filtering in to Claudette’s head, but the words, the actual words working into her psyche, wreaking havoc there if truth be told. Claudette could feel those words as much as she could feel the cold sticky dampness of the latex gloves resting in the beginnings of her ass cleavage.
“You stay right there, I will be right back.”
The sound of a door opening and closing and more distant sounds of stiletto heels on marble flooring as Yazmyn went wherever she was going. Claudette then alone with her thoughts, and they were deep thoughts. Too deep even for her to think, to get up for a few minutes to relieve her humiliation, before Yazmyn came back. Instead, holding her position just as she had been told to do so, and at one point tightening her hip and thigh muscles, causing the splits front and rear in the skirt to rip and lengthen, despite the fact the skirt was up around her hips anyway. Claudette’s mind was gone, or at least partly gone. She was beginning to think of only one thing, and that was that fucking orgasm she seemed not to be able to have, or experience. The more she couldn’t have it, the more she wanted it. She even reached back, pulled her own fingers back through the slippery oily mush that was her sexuality, but although it was friction, and right now any friction would do, it wasn’t the kind of friction needed to bring her off. She needed the kind of intensity that Yazmyn seemed to be able to create with ease. She grunted kind of greedily, hungrily as her fingers ploughed the mush to no real effect and then those stilettos, the sound of high heels on marble again, Yazmyn returning, the door opening, closing and then the sound of Yazmyn’s soft voice behind her.
“Oh my, Claudette, ruined nylons, again! And now your skirt as well. I’m not going to be able to send you home like that now am I, hmmm?”
Claudette’s face on one side was flat to the sheet, and she was blinking.
“I don’t care about how you send me home. I just want to cummmmm. I need it Yazmyn. Need it. Fucks sakes I need it so badly.”
There was that sobbing melancholy in her voice again but this time it was Yazmyn’s turn to light up from the eyes. It was like what Claudette was gurgling out, trying to say, it was what she wanted to hear. Yazmyn had tied on a full length rubber apron to protect her as she worked on the messy ever-slicker Claudette. The apron was made from heavier latex and shiny black. She walked right around the bed, which was in the centre of the expensive, modern bedroom so that Claudette would be able to see how she had had to take measures to protect her skin, and her expensive clothes from the slippery mess that Claudette was producing. As she circled the bed, she snapped on fresh gloves. The very snap made Claudette’s flesh twitch and again another light sparked in her eyes. It was like she was associating that snapping, that latex sound with some more of that sexual intensity.
This time, Yazmyn stood behind the prose, exhibited Claudette. And that is how the older woman felt, prose and exhibited. It wasn’t lost on Claudette, what she must have looked like. She knew, she just knew that she must have looked an obscene mess; a bedraggled, and obscene mess with her most intimate of flesh displayed for the Arabic Yazmyn. But somehow, for some reason, the shame, and the obscenity of it all was beginning to pale into insignificance when compared to the absolute need she was feeling to experience that orgasm. It some ways it was worse than being addicted to the actual orgasm. There was the promise of what that orgasm held. If the intensity and sheer ability, of the build up, to debilitate the mind to function properly because of the sheer undiluted pleasure, then surely, the orgasm itself, that actual hit was what finally and absolutely melted the mind. Claudette didn’t need to be told to spread her knees wider on the bed. It took just the tiniest little taps, two of them to the insides of her thighs from Yazmyn. And the olive skinned beauty did that almost casually. It was like she wasn’t expecting to have to tell the older woman that she wanted her knees wider and that just the taps, one to each mid-upper thigh was enough. Not even a tap. More like a touch, like the tiniest of touches. Like Yazmyn placing the pad of two of her fingers on the soft fleshy thighs, first one then the other and viola Claudette spreading her knees wider.
“And dip your back a little Claudette. Dip the back. Arch it thrust yourself backwards. The more posed to are, the tighter your muscles groups, and the greater the sensation. Greater sensation means probably orgasm, Claudette and I know you want that pretty badly.”
There was so much of Claudette, in Amazonian proportion yes, but so much that there were little grunts of effort as she lifted the top of herself a little, so that the heavy breasts swung free under her, and then the second little wet grunt as she rocked side to side slightly repositioning her knees, wider. Then the pressing together of her full, somewhat chewed and sucked lips as she made the extra effort to dip the small of her back, her tits crushing into the bed again, nipples slightly distorted by the weight. This dip caused the enhancement of her rear end. Yazmyn’s voice was soft, matter-of-fact like. It was funny, though not in a ha ha way that Yazmyn’s voice held no animosity within it, or hate, or even the slightest detrimental tone. Actually, that the voice remained, almost neutral felt like a cause for concern. It felt that this whole thing was not a one off, teaching of a lesson to the woman who had abused and humiliated her all that time ago. It felt more like this was a longer game. Not even a game of cat and mouse because, here and now the cat had well and truly caught the mouse. This was a calculated set up, a plan being executed in the most precise ways imaginable. That the twenty six year old Yazmyn could even play this game, if it was a game, was provocation enough for deeper thought and concern. No animosity, no hate, just matter of fact business like and yet with soft dulcet tones that simply drew the older woman into the spell even more, even more completely.
“MMMMMM NNNNGG MMMMMMNNGGGGGGGGG.”
Those were the soft, slightly muffled mewling sounds that Claudette made as Yazmyn began to work her most needy flesh again. This time, she used the leaking slippery juices from the older woman’s sex, scooping it up and bringing it up around her anal hole.
“Push back, Claudette. Push back like you really want this.”
Even in Claudette’s somewhat debilitated state of mind, she hung on to every single word that Yazmyn uttered. Her mind was such that she would take every one of the words harshly, like they were a criticism. Or another put down. That thought racing through Claudette’s mind that Yazmyn must think she doesn’t really want the orgasm or the pleasure and that she was not really grateful at all for the attentions. In an extra effort, the older woman grunted, and pushed back, making her anus dilate and the ring protrude.
“Good girl, keep it out, that’s right keep it right out for me honey.”
Yazmyn’s words massaging the mind. It was all well again. Yazmyn had complimented Claudette on her efforts and all was well with the world again as Yazmyn scooped up juices with her rubberised fingers, scooping them up and then stroking up the somewhat loose, distended slit and to that very sensitive piece of flesh between the vagina and the anus and using her slippery fingers to caress that spot and make Claudette push out harder, and make her noises of exertion even louder and wet drenched with Claudette mewling and whimpering into the satin sheets as the fingers stroked and stroked and then began to rim the anus; just one finger rimming the base of the protruding ring very lightly, using the slippery mess of Claudette’s sex to ensure that the rimming was smooth and effort free. Claudette opening her mouth, taking a cinch of the satin sheet between her teeth and chewing as this woman, this gorgeous, stunning hot Arabic woman simply worked the flesh, and then worked it some more. Yazmyn then using the fingers of two hands, just gently, one to the anus, the other turning the attention back to the labia. The two sensations coming together in such a way that it felt, to Claudette, that her ass and cunt had become one and the same thing; almost like it had become a huge conjoined sexual organ. At one point Yazmyn using her saturated fingers and simply resting them in the small of Claudette’s back, right at the base of the spine. Not pressing. Just resting there, encouraging the older woman to dip her back and keep it dipped, then Yazmyn using those same fingers to lightly and ever so succinctly trace the larger moon shape of her hips and ass.
“Mmmmm, Claudette what a fabulous ass you have, it’s gorgeous and just meant to be seen like this.”


Excerpt..

Claudette was bushed from the attention to her sex, but she was hungry for more of those sensations, those deep penetrating intense
sensations she had experienced. Oh god she wanted more of that but she also wanted a taste of that elusive cum. She wanted to feel that cum,
that thing that threatened to send her into orbit. That thing she had never felt before but that promised so much. The denial hadn’t made
her not want the orgasm. On the contrary, it had made her want it even more. She was becoming addicted just to the promise of what those
orgasms held. Let alone what they would actually deliver. Oh she wanted that orgasm so fucking badly. She groaned and laid back, legs folded
and spread wide. Her saturated leaking, oily sex exposed and undulating as she pushed it out from the inside.

The second attempt had brought nothing but what sounded like a distressed grunt from Claudette. She wanted to orgasm. She wanted it so
badly. Yazmyn wasn’t giving it to her and yet the stunning Arabic beauty was letting her think there was something wrong with her. How could
such a stunning, apparently kind, softly spoken woman do that to another? Claudette had no idea that Yazmyn was deliberately and coldly
denying her the orgasms she was making Claudette crave so badly. Claudette’s breathing was becoming laboured and deep. Her huge chest was
heaving, expanding and deflating as she breathed but it was clear too that a mental effect of not experiencing that orgasm was beginning to
take its toll.

On the third attempt, Yazmyn encouraged Claudette to turn over, onto her hands and knees, and then lower herself onto her elbows so
that her huge breast weight was taken by the bed. Once again knees wide, sex exposed and available and this time thrust back and with her
curvy quite wide hips, and bottom high. Claudette was becoming very aware of the sight she must have presented. It was mingled in with a
new sensation, a new feeling of guilt that she was making Yazmyn work so hard for her. That is how she was feeling. There was still the need
and an urgent greed for that elusive orgasm, but now the humiliation had returned. Yes the humiliation had returned to sweep over her as she
semi-sobbed into ultra expensive red satin sheets. That humiliation compounded by the sound of Yazmyn removing that first pair of latex
gloves; that snapping sound of elastic latex, and then the Arabic woman just resting the soiled gloves on the highest point of Claudette’s
ass, almost slapping the soiled latex gloves on Claudette’s bare, high bared flesh.

“I’ve never needed more than one pair of gloves before, Claudette.”

The voice was soft from behind her, but Claudette still felt something of a stinging, accusatory tone in the quality of the voice. It
was just a little, a tiny little bit. It would have seemed a lot to Claudette though, in her present state of undress, and with the state of
her mind at this precise time.

“I’m sorry Yasmyn truly.”

It was a wet sobbing sorry into the sheet and Yazmyn worked coolly, calmly and without batting an eyelid.

“No need for you to be sorry sweetie. I’m going to sort you out today if it’s the last thing I do. Just hold it, as you are there, I
need to put on an apron as well as fresh gloves. This could get a bit messy.”

Ah god those soft Arabic tones just filtering in to Claudette’s head, but the words, the actual words working into her psyche,
wreaking havoc there if truth be told. Claudette could feel those words as much as she could feel the cold sticky dampness of the latex
gloves resting in the beginnings of her ass cleavage.

“You stay right there, I will be right back.”

The sound of a door opening and closing and more distant sounds of stiletto heels on marble flooring as Yazmyn went wherever she was
going. Claudette then alone with her thoughts, and they were deep thoughts. Too deep even for her to think, to get up for a few minutes to
relieve her humiliation, before Yazmyn came back. Instead, holding her position just as she had been told to do so, and at one point
tightening her hip and thigh muscles, causing the splits front and rear in the skirt to rip and lengthen, despite the fact the skirt was up
around her hips anyway. Claudette’s mind was gone, or at least partly gone. She was beginning to think of only one thing, and that was that
fucking orgasm she seemed not to be able to have, or experience. The more she couldn’t have it, the more she wanted it. She even reached
back, pulled her own fingers back through the slippery oily mush that was her sexuality, but although it was friction, and right now any
friction would do, it wasn’t the kind of friction needed to bring her off. She needed the kind of intensity that Yazmyn seemed to be able to
create with ease. She grunted kind of greedily, hungrily as her fingers ploughed the mush to no real effect and then those stilettos, the
sound of high heels on marble again, Yazmyn returning, the door opening, closing and then the sound of Yazmyn’s soft voice behind her. />
“Oh my, Claudette, ruined nylons, again! And now your skirt as well. I’m not going to be able to send you home like that now am I,
hmmm?”

Claudette’s face on one side was flat to the sheet, and she was blinking.

“I don’t care about how you send me home. I just want to cummmmm. I need it Yazmyn. Need it. Fucks sakes I need it so badly.”

There was that sobbing melancholy in her voice again but this time it was Yazmyn’s turn to light up from the eyes. It was like what
Claudette was gurgling out, trying to say, it was what she wanted to hear. Yazmyn had tied on a full length rubber apron to protect her as
she worked on the messy ever-slicker Claudette. The apron was made from heavier latex and shiny black. She walked right around the bed,
which was in the centre of the expensive, modern bedroom so that Claudette would be able to see how she had had to take measures to protect
her skin, and her expensive clothes from the slippery mess that Claudette was producing. As she circled the bed, she snapped on fresh
gloves. The very snap made Claudette’s flesh twitch and again another light sparked in her eyes. It was like she was associating that
snapping, that latex sound with some more of that sexual intensity.

This time, Yazmyn stood behind the prose, exhibited Claudette. And that is how the older woman felt, prose and exhibited. It wasn’t
lost on Claudette, what she must have looked like. She knew, she just knew that she must have looked an obscene mess; a bedraggled, and
obscene mess with her most intimate of flesh displayed for the Arabic Yazmyn. But somehow, for some reason, the shame, and the obscenity of
it all was beginning to pale into insignificance when compared to the absolute need she was feeling to experience that orgasm. It some ways
it was worse than being addicted to the actual orgasm. There was the promise of what that orgasm held. If the intensity and sheer ability,
of the build up, to debilitate the mind to function properly because of the sheer undiluted pleasure, then surely, the orgasm itself, that
actual hit was what finally and absolutely melted the mind. Claudette didn’t need to be told to spread her knees wider on the bed. It took
just the tiniest little taps, two of them to the insides of her thighs from Yazmyn. And the olive skinned beauty did that almost casually.
It was like she wasn’t expecting to have to tell the older woman that she wanted her knees wider and that just the taps, one to each
mid-upper thigh was enough. Not even a tap. More like a touch, like the tiniest of touches. Like Yazmyn placing the pad of two of her
fingers on the soft fleshy thighs, first one then the other and viola Claudette spreading her knees wider.

“And dip your back a little Claudette. Dip the back. Arch it thrust yourself backwards. The more posed to are, the tighter your
muscles groups, and the greater the sensation. Greater sensation means probably orgasm, Claudette and I know you want that pretty badly.” />
There was so much of Claudette, in Amazonian proportion yes, but so much that there were little grunts of effort as she lifted the top
of herself a little, so that the heavy breasts swung free under her, and then the second little wet grunt as she rocked side to side
slightly repositioning her knees, wider. Then the pressing together of her full, somewhat chewed and sucked lips as she made the extra
effort to dip the small of her back, her tits crushing into the bed again, nipples slightly distorted by the weight. This dip caused the
enhancement of her rear end. Yazmyn’s voice was soft, matter-of-fact like. It was funny, though not in a ha ha way that Yazmyn’s voice held
no animosity within it, or hate, or even the slightest detrimental tone. Actually, that the voice remained, almost neutral felt like a cause
for concern. It felt that this whole thing was not a one off, teaching of a lesson to the woman who had abused and humiliated her all that
time ago. It felt more like this was a longer game. Not even a game of cat and mouse because, here and now the cat had well and truly caught
the mouse. This was a calculated set up, a plan being executed in the most precise ways imaginable. That the twenty six year old Yazmyn
could even play this game, if it was a game, was provocation enough for deeper thought and concern. No animosity, no hate, just matter of
fact business like and yet with soft dulcet tones that simply drew the older woman into the spell even more, even more completely.

“MMMMMM NNNNGG MMMMMMNNGGGGGGGGG.”

Those were the soft, slightly muffled mewling sounds that Claudette made as Yazmyn began to work her most needy flesh again. This
time, she used the leaking slippery juices from the older woman’s sex, scooping it up and bringing it up around her anal hole.

“Push back, Claudette. Push back like you really want this.”

Even in Claudette’s somewhat debilitated state of mind, she hung on to every single word that Yazmyn uttered. Her mind was such that
she would take every one of the words harshly, like they were a criticism. Or another put down. That thought racing through Claudette’s mind
that Yazmyn must think she doesn’t really want the orgasm or the pleasure and that she was not really grateful at all for the attentions. In
an extra effort, the older woman grunted, and pushed back, making her anus dilate and the ring protrude.

“Good girl, keep it out, that’s right keep it right out for me honey.”

Yazmyn’s words massaging the mind. It was all well again. Yazmyn had complimented Claudette on her efforts and all was well with the
world again as Yazmyn scooped up juices with her rubberised fingers, scooping them up and then stroking up the somewhat loose, distended
slit and to that very sensitive piece of flesh between the vagina and the anus and using her slippery fingers to caress that spot and make
Claudette push out harder, and make her noises of exertion even louder and wet drenched with Claudette mewling and whimpering into the satin
sheets as the fingers stroked and stroked and then began to rim the anus; just one finger rimming the base of the protruding ring very
lightly, using the slippery mess of Claudette’s sex to ensure that the rimming was smooth and effort free. Claudette opening her mouth,
taking a cinch of the satin sheet between her teeth and chewing as this woman, this gorgeous, stunning hot Arabic woman simply worked the
flesh, and then worked it some more. Yazmyn then using the fingers of two hands, just gently, one to the anus, the other turning the
attention back to the labia. The two sensations coming together in such a way that it felt, to Claudette, that her ass and cunt had become
one and the same thing; almost like it had become a huge conjoined sexual organ. At one point Yazmyn using her saturated fingers and simply
resting them in the small of Claudette’s back, right at the base of the spine. Not pressing. Just resting there, encouraging the older woman
to dip her back and keep it dipped, then Yazmyn using those same fingers to lightly and ever so succinctly trace the larger moon shape of
her hips and ass.

“Mmmmm, Claudette what a fabulous ass you have, it’s gorgeous and just meant to be seen like this.”


Excerpt..

Claudette was bushed from the attention to her sex, but she was hungry for more of those sensations, those deep penetrating intense

sensations she had experienced. Oh god she wanted more of that but she also wanted a taste of that elusive cum. She wanted to feel that cum,

that thing that threatened to send her into orbit. That thing she had never felt before but that promised so much. The denial hadn’t made

her not want the orgasm. On the contrary, it had made her want it even more. She was becoming addicted just to the promise of what those

orgasms held. Let alone what they would actually deliver. Oh she wanted that orgasm so fucking badly. She groaned and laid back, legs folded

and spread wide. Her saturated leaking, oily sex exposed and undulating as she pushed it out from the inside.


The second attempt had brought nothing but what sounded like a distressed grunt from Claudette. She wanted to orgasm. She wanted it so

badly. Yazmyn wasn’t giving it to her and yet the stunning Arabic beauty was letting her think there was something wrong with her. How could

such a stunning, apparently kind, softly spoken woman do that to another? Claudette had no idea that Yazmyn was deliberately and coldly

denying her the orgasms she was making Claudette crave so badly. Claudette’s breathing was becoming laboured and deep. Her huge chest was

heaving, expanding and deflating as she breathed but it was clear too that a mental effect of not experiencing that orgasm was beginning to

take its toll.


On the third attempt, Yazmyn encouraged Claudette to turn over, onto her hands and knees, and then lower herself onto her elbows so

that her huge breast weight was taken by the bed. Once again knees wide, sex exposed and available and this time thrust back and with her

curvy quite wide hips, and bottom high. Claudette was becoming very aware of the sight she must have presented. It was mingled in with a

new sensation, a new feeling of guilt that she was making Yazmyn work so hard for her. That is how she was feeling. There was still the need

and an urgent greed for that elusive orgasm, but now the humiliation had returned. Yes the humiliation had returned to sweep over her as she

semi-sobbed into ultra expensive red satin sheets. That humiliation compounded by the sound of Yazmyn removing that first pair of latex

gloves; that snapping sound of elastic latex, and then the Arabic woman just resting the soiled gloves on the highest point of Claudette’s

ass, almost slapping the soiled latex gloves on Claudette’s bare, high bared flesh.


“I’ve never needed more than one pair of gloves before, Claudette.”


The voice was soft from behind her, but Claudette still felt something of a stinging, accusatory tone in the quality of the voice. It

was just a little, a tiny little bit. It would have seemed a lot to Claudette though, in her present state of undress, and with the state of

her mind at this precise time.


“I’m sorry Yasmyn truly.”


It was a wet sobbing sorry into the sheet and Yazmyn worked coolly, calmly and without batting an eyelid.


“No need for you to be sorry sweetie. I’m going to sort you out today if it’s the last thing I do. Just hold it, as you are there, I

need to put on an apron as well as fresh gloves. This could get a bit messy.”


Ah god those soft Arabic tones just filtering in to Claudette’s head, but the words, the actual words working into her psyche,

wreaking havoc there if truth be told. Claudette could feel those words as much as she could feel the cold sticky dampness of the latex

gloves resting in the beginnings of her ass cleavage.


“You stay right there, I will be right back.”


The sound of a door opening and closing and more distant sounds of stiletto heels on marble flooring as Yazmyn went wherever she was

going. Claudette then alone with her thoughts, and they were deep thoughts. Too deep even for her to think, to get up for a few minutes to

relieve her humiliation, before Yazmyn came back. Instead, holding her position just as she had been told to do so, and at one point

tightening her hip and thigh muscles, causing the splits front and rear in the skirt to rip and lengthen, despite the fact the skirt was up

around her hips anyway. Claudette’s mind was gone, or at least partly gone. She was beginning to think of only one thing, and that was that

fucking orgasm she seemed not to be able to have, or experience. The more she couldn’t have it, the more she wanted it. She even reached

back, pulled her own fingers back through the slippery oily mush that was her sexuality, but although it was friction, and right now any

friction would do, it wasn’t the kind of friction needed to bring her off. She needed the kind of intensity that Yazmyn seemed to be able to

create with ease. She grunted kind of greedily, hungrily as her fingers ploughed the mush to no real effect and then those stilettos, the

sound of high heels on marble again, Yazmyn returning, the door opening, closing and then the sound of Yazmyn’s soft voice behind her.
/>

“Oh my, Claudette, ruined nylons, again! And now your skirt as well. I’m not going to be able to send you home like that now am I,

hmmm?”


Claudette’s face on one side was flat to the sheet, and she was blinking.


“I don’t care about how you send me home. I just want to cummmmm. I need it Yazmyn. Need it. Fucks sakes I need it so badly.”


There was that sobbing melancholy in her voice again but this time it was Yazmyn’s turn to light up from the eyes. It was like what

Claudette was gurgling out, trying to say, it was what she wanted to hear. Yazmyn had tied on a full length rubber apron to protect her as

she worked on the messy ever-slicker Claudette. The apron was made from heavier latex and shiny black. She walked right around the bed,

which was in the centre of the expensive, modern bedroom so that Claudette would be able to see how she had had to take measures to protect

her skin, and her expensive clothes from the slippery mess that Claudette was producing. As she circled the bed, she snapped on fresh

gloves. The very snap made Claudette’s flesh twitch and again another light sparked in her eyes. It was like she was associating that

snapping, that latex sound with some more of that sexual intensity.


This time, Yazmyn stood behind the prose, exhibited Claudette. And that is how the older woman felt, prose and exhibited. It wasn’t

lost on Claudette, what she must have looked like. She knew, she just knew that she must have looked an obscene mess; a bedraggled, and

obscene mess with her most intimate of flesh displayed for the Arabic Yazmyn. But somehow, for some reason, the shame, and the obscenity of

it all was beginning to pale into insignificance when compared to the absolute need she was feeling to experience that orgasm. It some ways

it was worse than being addicted to the actual orgasm. There was the promise of what that orgasm held. If the intensity and sheer ability,

of the build up, to debilitate the mind to function properly because of the sheer undiluted pleasure, then surely, the orgasm itself, that

actual hit was what finally and absolutely melted the mind. Claudette didn’t need to be told to spread her knees wider on the bed. It took

just the tiniest little taps, two of them to the insides of her thighs from Yazmyn. And the olive skinned beauty did that almost casually.

It was like she wasn’t expecting to have to tell the older woman that she wanted her knees wider and that just the taps, one to each

mid-upper thigh was enough. Not even a tap. More like a touch, like the tiniest of touches. Like Yazmyn placing the pad of two of her

fingers on the soft fleshy thighs, first one then the other and viola Claudette spreading her knees wider.


“And dip your back a little Claudette. Dip the back. Arch it thrust yourself backwards. The more posed to are, the tighter your

muscles groups, and the greater the sensation. Greater sensation means probably orgasm, Claudette and I know you want that pretty badly.”
/>

There was so much of Claudette, in Amazonian proportion yes, but so much that there were little grunts of effort as she lifted the top

of herself a little, so that the heavy breasts swung free under her, and then the second little wet grunt as she rocked side to side

slightly repositioning her knees, wider. Then the pressing together of her full, somewhat chewed and sucked lips as she made the extra

effort to dip the small of her back, her tits crushing into the bed again, nipples slightly distorted by the weight. This dip caused the

enhancement of her rear end. Yazmyn’s voice was soft, matter-of-fact like. It was funny, though not in a ha ha way that Yazmyn’s voice held

no animosity within it, or hate, or even the slightest detrimental tone. Actually, that the voice remained, almost neutral felt like a cause

for concern. It felt that this whole thing was not a one off, teaching of a lesson to the woman who had abused and humiliated her all that

time ago. It felt more like this was a longer game. Not even a game of cat and mouse because, here and now the cat had well and truly caught

the mouse. This was a calculated set up, a plan being executed in the most precise ways imaginable. That the twenty six year old Yazmyn

could even play this game, if it was a game, was provocation enough for deeper thought and concern. No animosity, no hate, just matter of

fact business like and yet with soft dulcet tones that simply drew the older woman into the spell even more, even more completely.


“MMMMMM NNNNGG MMMMMMNNGGGGGGGGG.”


Those were the soft, slightly muffled mewling sounds that Claudette made as Yazmyn began to work her most needy flesh again. This

time, she used the leaking slippery juices from the older woman’s sex, scooping it up and bringing it up around her anal hole.


“Push back, Claudette. Push back like you really want this.”


Even in Claudette’s somewhat debilitated state of mind, she hung on to every single word that Yazmyn uttered. Her mind was such that

she would take every one of the words harshly, like they were a criticism. Or another put down. That thought racing through Claudette’s mind

that Yazmyn must think she doesn’t really want the orgasm or the pleasure and that she was not really grateful at all for the attentions. In

an extra effort, the older woman grunted, and pushed back, making her anus dilate and the ring protrude.


“Good girl, keep it out, that’s right keep it right out for me honey.”


Yazmyn’s words massaging the mind. It was all well again. Yazmyn had complimented Claudette on her efforts and all was well with the

world again as Yazmyn scooped up juices with her rubberised fingers, scooping them up and then stroking up the somewhat loose, distended

slit and to that very sensitive piece of flesh between the vagina and the anus and using her slippery fingers to caress that spot and make

Claudette push out harder, and make her noises of exertion even louder and wet drenched with Claudette mewling and whimpering into the satin

sheets as the fingers stroked and stroked and then began to rim the anus; just one finger rimming the base of the protruding ring very

lightly, using the slippery mess of Claudette’s sex to ensure that the rimming was smooth and effort free. Claudette opening her mouth,

taking a cinch of the satin sheet between her teeth and chewing as this woman, this gorgeous, stunning hot Arabic woman simply worked the

flesh, and then worked it some more. Yazmyn then using the fingers of two hands, just gently, one to the anus, the other turning the

attention back to the labia. The two sensations coming together in such a way that it felt, to Claudette, that her ass and cunt had become

one and the same thing; almost like it had become a huge conjoined sexual organ. At one point Yazmyn using her saturated fingers and simply

resting them in the small of Claudette’s back, right at the base of the spine. Not pressing. Just resting there, encouraging the older woman

to dip her back and keep it dipped, then Yazmyn using those same fingers to lightly and ever so succinctly trace the larger moon shape of

her hips and ass.


“Mmmmm, Claudette what a fabulous ass you have, it’s gorgeous and just meant to be seen like this.”



Keywords - click on word to search for more titles

lesbian  domination  control  sexual  sex  high heels  latex  stockings  orgasm  
orgasm denial  mother  daughter  Arabic  bdsm    

Reviews

Great story. I can't wait for part two. 5 out of 5 (girly46)

... in a complete, utter class of its own. Pleeeeeeease hurry with Book 2 5 out of 5 (Jemima)

Tamer than her previous books. 4 out of 5 (timeac)

If you like this author's previous books you will like this one. 4 out of 5

I suspect book 2 will be better. 3 out of 5 (JBC)

Best Selling Books This Year By drkfetyshnyghts

Euphoria - Book One Claudette

Euphoria - Book One Claudette

Euphoria - Book One Claudette

Euphoria - Book One Claudette

Euphoria - Book One Claudette

Best Selling Books This Year By drkfetyshnyghts

Euphoria - Book One Claudette

Euphoria - Book One Claudette

Euphoria - Book One Claudette

Euphoria - Book One Claudette

Euphoria - Book One Claudette

Author Information

\\\"DrkFetyshNyghts writes her hard hitting stories almost as crime novels. The BDSM, the Fetish and the Bondage being the crimes along with the impunity with which the perpetrators operate. This, together with an autobiographical feel and forensic attention to detail, adds a distinctly jagged and disturbing edge to the narrative.\\\"

Hello there, as above, I am a 39 year old Lady writer and I have a \\\'thing\\\' for latex, nylons and heels... all wrapped up in dark brooding bdsm and extreme control (mostly lesbian though not exclusively so). Forced orgasms. Orgasm denial.. and debilitating mental cruelty. I enjoy exploring the dark side and within stories can revel in the no safe words morality. Please visit me at www.drky.co.uk

 

Website:
http://www.drky.co.uk

Contact drkfetyshnyghts


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 Authors Suite

 Publishers Suite   

Affiliate Program

Contact Us

Terms and Conditions

Protection Policy

Privacy Policy

Refund Policy

This Site Owned By Fiction4All - Copyright Ó 2015