The loud clicking of steps stops to the left of me. It’s *her*. I pick up a slight aromatic trail of her perfume, barely noticeable over the eucalyptus permeating the air. My breathing starts increasing the tempo despite the fact that nothing has happened. I feel a sharp nail gently poking my soft belly. I gasp. It moves up towards my breasts, the pressure increasing a little. I squirm as the sharp nail grabs my nipple for a moment…and then pauses. I grab the bar in my hands of the restraints and pull. I go nowhere. Her fingernail traces a slow, gentle circle around my nipple and I feel it harden immediately. There is a sudden arousal between my legs.
*Oh fuck yes…*
“ohhhhh” I accidentally moan. My eyes open suddenly under
She stops for a moment, but then moves her nail up my chest pressing harder, up along my neck, and then up my cheek. She turns the nail over and rubs the back side of her fingers along my cheek. Her nail hooks the blind fold and pulls it off. Before my eyes can adjust to the light, a hot, wet towel is placed over my face, thick and soothing on my eyes and face.
This is the first time I have ever had my hair washed like this. She first lifts my head gently and slides something soft…
*A towel?*
*…*under my head, and just as gently sets me down. I feel her remove the band of my pony tail behind my head and with her nails she combs it out briefly. My hair isn’t long, just enough for a pony tail, and about shoulder length. It’s not flashy or layered, and rarely styled. I’m barely lucky enough to afford getting my hair done at the discount places.
I can hear the ***click*** of her shoes for a moment, and then the sound of running water directly behind my head. The light pressure is soothing on my scalp, and the warmth inviting as it permeates throughout my hair.
*Oh shit this is nice…*
The bottom of her hand runs along the upper edge of the hot towel, keeping the water out of my face. Even without the towel on my eyes, I would not have opened them. The flowing warmth feels like a bubble of comfort around my head. She moves the nozzle up and down, back and forth.
The flow of water stops. I hear the distinct ***pop*** of a plastic bottle, and I feel the shampoo drizzle into my hair. She audibly closes the lid and places it somewhere. Two hands gently massage my scalp slowly and carefully. She works her fingers in and out, using her nails to slightly scrape close to the skin without hurting me. I have no memories of my own mother ever washing my hair. That thought stirs something. I can feel something in my chest building; something that is causing my breathing to increase again. The warm towel is now serving a second purpose; it’s absorbing the tears building in my eyes.
*Don’t…don’t…shhhhh…keep it calm…don’t lose it…*
I grab the handles of my restraints and grip tightly to try and avoid the heaves and body wracking sobs I know are just a moment away. I know without a doubt that if she were to say something…anything…I would lose it.
*Music…focus on the music…find the different instruments.* *Ok…that’s a…a flute…focus on the flute…*
The music is soft and stimulating, and I try to lose myself in it. Her fingers continue to work the shampoo in and out of my hair, and I feel as though every muscle in my body has completely given in. I lay there in a state of semi-consciousness breathing in the eucalyptus, and feeling the warmth of the air flowing around my naked body. My mind has surrendered.
She stops her washing of my hair. The water is turned back on, and she proceeds to rinse my hair thoroughly. Once satisfied the product is out, she turns the water off, and works as much of the excess moisture out of my hair. At the same time she removes the towel on my eyes and just as quickly replaces the leather face mask rendering me sightless as usual. I realize I like it on. She fastens it securely under my wet hair in the back, and then wraps a soft towel around the back of my hair and then around my face. I feel her hand slide under my neck, and the chair I am laying on lifts me up and out of the sink trough at the same it begins to reform as a chair underneath me.
*Why couldn’t you have been my mother?*
I have an overwhelming urge to thank her, but think better of it. She told me not to speak unless asked a question. I don’t want to upset her again, especially now.
The chair returns to full form, and I am now sitting upright, the towel around my head, and my robe nothing more than a blanket I am sitting on. She removes the towel, and I hear the sound of a hair dryer. I sit patiently while she dries my hair, combing it out as she goes until every strand on my head is completely dried out. I listen to the sound of the hair dryer back and forth in front of me, behind me, on top. I’m lost in her touch and begin to crave it even more.
The dryer turns off, and I hear her shuffling around a little, every movement echoed in the cavern of a bathroom we must be in. Whatever shoes she is wearing click against the tile every time she moves, and the sound bounces off the walls. The music has also been turned off, I realize, its absence noted and missed. I can feel her hands on mine as she works the latches and releases each restraint from whatever they were secured to.
There is a gentle tug on my leash forward and I stand up. I rise slowly and put my hands at my side. I’m calm, relaxed. Her hands and nails reach up and fluff my hair out, and I feel her gently pet my head from the top down. Again, her touch elicits an involuntary response from my body. I want to feel her hands on my arms now, my sides, my breasts, my pussy…my nipples stiffen immediately and there’s a warm tingle I can feel from my clitoris.
She pulls her hands away from my hair now. I’m standing there naked in front her, not seeing her, and yet desiring her in any way she wants me.
*Please…please…*
Her fingers find my right nipple and I can feel her gently rolling it between her fingers. My shoulders heave as I breathe heavier.
*Oh fuck…ohhhhh yes please…*
”God…Mistress Kim…please…”
She squeezes my nipple a little hard and even though I momentarily wince, I moan again with pleasure. She steps closer to me, and I can feel a light, billowing fabric against my upper body that she is wearing. The perfume is in my nose and I breathe it in. She moves closer, her fingers still caressing my nipple, rolling it, pulling it, and squeezing it. I can feel the tingle growing below. My breathing is getting faster. I want to feel her touch everywhere. Her breath is hot my right ear, and I involuntarily bring up my right hand and put it on her hip. Whatever she is wearing is skin tight but smooth to the touch. I don’t care.
*Whatever you want, please let me do it…I’ll do anything…please yes…*
Her lips take the lobe of my ear and she gently nibbles it. Her other hand is now rubbing the back of my head, gently gripping my hair. Her tongue moves around my ear, and she kisses it a few more times. Her fingers are pulling my nipple outward now, twisting it slowly. She’s pulling it outward a little more now, a little harder…
“Holly…” she moans in my ear. She’s twisting my nipple a little more…
I can barely moan back, “Please ma’am…please…”
“Time to remember why you’re here.”
She pulls and twists my nipple to the point where I bend over and grab the side of her hips with my hands, the restraints I wear making it difficult to grab her slick pants at all. My contorted face buries itself in her bosom, her breasts enveloping me, my open mouth full of the sheer fabric of her top. She pulls and twists my nipple so hard I can’t help but fill the room with my muffled scream.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/kc64ah/hollys_talespart_7