The hotel bed was a mess of pantsuits and dresses. “I didn’t know what to wear,” Kathryn explained, sheepishly picking up garments and hanging them in the closet. Melanie watched her white pumps step, step, step, crossing from bed to closet, closet to bed. Kathryn’s bare legs gleamed like they’d been waxed recently and polished with oil. Her dress was so tight it rode up her thighs as she walked, and she stopped every so often to pull down on the hem.

What a body! Kathryn’s defined abs were clear to see under that white spandex-like fabric. Her tits spilled out the top, only barely concealed by the noticeable white bra underneath. Melanie kept waiting for her old friend to bend the wrong way so she could catch a glimpse at two rosy nipples. Maybe Kathryn was the reason all those guys at the reunion had been staring at their table—it wasn’t about “the lesbians” at all.

Kathryn had certainly kept fit for something or someone. Her ex-husband, no doubt. She’d mentioned earlier that she sensed he was cheating before she knew it for sure. Maybe she started working out for him, in hopes he’d stay. Sad…

“What did Pasha mean?” Kathryn asked in a hush. “She said I know more than I realize about the submissive thing. What was she talking about?”

“Oh.” Now Melanie felt sheepish. She didn’t like introducing the concept to people who didn’t know much about their lifestyle. Some had a hard time understanding her devotion. Or maybe she just wasn’t very good at explaining herself. She knew in her heart what Pasha meant to her, but she could never seem to get the words out.

“Pasha’s heard all the stories of when we were kids,” Melanie said. “How you asked me to tell you what to do. I gave you commands and you carried them out: tie my shoes, eat a piece of liver, put that traffic cone on your head…remember that?” She couldn’t conceal her smile. “When we were really young, I mean.”

With a chuckle, Kathryn said, “Oh, yeah. That was stupid. I don’t know why I was like that. I just didn’t want to make decisions for myself, I guess.”

“It’s not stupid.” Melanie sat on the edge of the bed. It was comfy, and probably a king. Too bad they wouldn’t be fucking in it tonight, all three of them. She knew precisely what Pasha wanted.

The bathroom door opened with a squeak and Pasha called, “Come here, my dears.”

Sliding off the high mattress, Melanie walked directly to her Domme and sensed Kathryn following behind. “She is going to leave that dress on,” Pasha instructed.

Melanie offered a subtle nod and entered the bathroom. It was wonderfully large and sparkling white, in true hotel fashion. Pasha had pulled back the shower curtain. Her water bottle rested on the clean marble counter. It was full now, with warm water most probably, and the nozzle-lid was back on top. Pasha handed it to Melanie while Kathryn stood in the threshold. It was indeed warm. Not hot, but warm.

“Come inside,” Melanie said. She never knew how she knew what Pasha desired. The expectations were inside of her. For Melanie, being a true submissive meant anticipating Pasha’s needs and wishes, and acting on them without direction.


Hugs,

Giselle Renarde

Canada just got hotter!

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