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Cole

At 7:00 p.m., Cole knocked on the door. Jim opened it and ushered him in. “Good to see you, Cole,” Jim said. “Nice to see you as well, Sir,” said Cole. Jim had Cole sit down. No sign of Sarah yet. “Tonight, Sarah will lead—within the structure I set. You respond to her. You submit to her. But you belong to neither of us. Not yet. This is an evaluation, not a gift.” Cole nodded. “Understood, Sir.” Jim’s tone shifted slightly—lower, firmer. “What’s your safe word?” “Red, Sir.” “Use it if needed. You’re here by consent. You’ll leave the same way. Clear?” “Yes, Sir.” Jim got up, clicked on the stereo—Enigma – “Return to Innocence” began to softly play. He then walked to the bedroom door, knocked, and said, “We are ready when you are, Sarah.” The door opened and Sarah strode into the room, powerful and strong in her black trench coat. “Shoes off,” Sarah said. “Go kneel by the hearth. Hands on thighs. Eyes down.” Cole obeyed immediately. Jim remained by the door, arms crossed. Sarah walked a slow circle around Cole, studying him—the line of his shoulders, the tension in his jaw. She crouched in front of him. “What do you want to feel tonight?” “Safe. Directed. Of service.” She nodded. Jim spoke next, voice quiet but firm. “And what do you think she wants?” Cole swallowed. “To see me follow. To feel my submission. To be obeyed.” Sarah leaned in, her voice soft. “Correct.” Jim gave a single approving nod. “Then begin.” Jim leaned back in his chair, sipping his whiskey as he watched Sarah kneel before him. But tonight, she wasn’t alone. Cole knelt beside her—broad shoulders tense, hands resting on his thighs, waiting. Jim smirked. “You’ve learned what it means to submit, sweetheart. Now you’re going to learn what it means to own.” Sarah’s breath caught. Jim gestured to Cole. “He’s yours for the night. Train him.” Sarah exhaled slowly, her gaze dropping to the man beside her. She reached out, brushing her fingers along his jaw, feeling the tension there. She removed the coat and set it aside. “Look up at me,” she said as she turned back to him. “Like what you see?” “Yes, Ms.,” Cole said. “Crawl to me,” she ordered. Cole obeyed instantly. Sarah stood over him, watching his body tense under her command. A slow thrill ran through her. She tilted Cole’s chin up. “Kiss my feet.” Cole obeyed immediately, his lips brushing over the leather of her black thigh-high boots. Sarah bit her lip, glancing at Jim. She lifted her foot, stopping him just before he could press another kiss to her boot. Cole froze, his breath uneven. Jim hummed approvingly. “Now edge him.” Sarah exhaled, shifting forward, letting her hand trail down Cole’s chest—lower—wrapping her fingers around his cock. Cole groaned, his hips jerking into her grip. Sarah smirked. “Stay still.” He obeyed, trembling. Sarah leaned down, her breath ghosting over Cole’s skin before flicking her tongue against the tip of his cock. Cole whimpered. Cole moaned, body tight with restraint. Sarah’s smirk widened. She wrapped her fingers around his cock, stroking him with slow, steady precision—just enough to push him to the edge. Cole gasped, trembling. Then she stopped. Cole groaned, wrecked. Sarah exhaled, body thrumming with control. And she wasn’t done yet. Cole was shaking. His cock flushed, throbbing, his whole body trembling from pleasure stolen again and again. Jim watched, sipping his whiskey. Sarah dragged her nails down Cole’s chest. “You’re so close, aren’t you?” “Yes, Ms.,” Cole rasped. Jim’s voice was smooth. “Take him there again.” Sarah obeyed, hand working his cock, her lips teasing him just enough to push him to the brink again. Cole moaned, thighs quivering. Then she stopped. Cole sobbed, his body clenching. Sarah tilted Cole’s chin up. “Do you want to come?” “Yes, Ms.,” he gasped. She ran her tongue along his shaft—slow, deliberate. Cole moaned, body tight with need. Then she pulled away. Cole whimpered, hands fisting at his sides. Jim watched proudly. Sarah exhaled, heat curling in her belly. She owned him now. And she wasn’t done making him suffer. Cole was wrecked—body trembling, muscles locking, pleasure denied until his mind unraveled. Sarah hovered over him, boots gleaming in the dim light, the scent of leather and desperation thick between them. Jim sipped his whiskey, smirking. “I think he’s earned his release, sweetheart.” Sarah exhaled, shifting her foot, pressing the arch of her boot just under Cole’s balls. He groaned, cock throbbing, precum smearing against the leather as his hips jerked. Sarah’s voice was smooth, teasing. “You want to come, don’t you?” “Yes, Ms.,” Cole whimpered, breath ragged. Sarah tilted her foot slightly, the arch cradling his balls while her hand stroked down his chest. “Stroke yourself,” she ordered. Cole obeyed instantly, stroking in desperate, shuddering strokes, grinding against her slick leather. Sarah bit her lip, watching him unravel—body arching, thighs trembling, moans breaking apart with every gasp. Sarah smirked. She pressed down just enough to make Cole moan, just enough to make him tense. His strokes faltered, breath catching. “Please, Ms.,” he begged, barely a whisper. “Let me come.” Sarah exhaled slowly, fingers trailing through his damp hair. She glanced at Jim. Jim nodded once. Sarah arched her foot, applying perfect pressure. “Come on my boots.” Cole gasped—body shuddering, release spilling hot and desperate against the ankle of her boot as he groaned her name. He collapsed, spent. Sarah smirked, lifting her boot, glancing at the mess he’d made. Jim exhaled, satisfied. “Perfect.” Sarah leaned back on the leather couch, body still humming with power as she watched Cole catch his breath. He lay sprawled, chest rising and falling, skin glistening with sweat. His hands twitched slightly, body still coming down. Jim leaned forward, forearms on his knees, smirking. “You still with us, boy?” Cole swallowed hard. “Yes, Sir.” His voice was hoarse. Sarah ran a hand through his damp hair. “Good.” Cole tilted his head up, dazed but warm. “Thank you, Ms.” Sarah smirked. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m not done with you yet. Wipe up your mess. There are fresh towels in the bathroom.” Cole immediately complied. Cole groaned as he kneeled—but under it, something deeper flickered: satisfaction, reverence, need. Jim leaned back, swirling his drink. “She’s a natural, isn’t she?” Cole exhaled slowly, a small smile curving his lips. “Yes, Sir.” Jim’s gaze shifted to Sarah. “How does it feel? Having him completely at your mercy?” Sarah’s stomach fluttered. She traced the faint red marks on Cole’s skin. “Powerful,” she murmured. “Addictive.” Jim chuckled, voice rich with approval. “Good, then take more.” Sarah stood over Cole, watching his body tense. Jim’s voice stayed smooth, coaxing. “You don’t just tell him what to do, sweetheart. You make him need to obey.” She tilted Cole’s chin up. “Kiss my feet again.” Cole obeyed instantly, lips brushing over the leather of her boots. But Sarah wanted more than obedience—she wanted devotion. Sarah moved to sit down on the couch so she could guide Cole better. She nudged his cheek with her toe, guiding his lips along the leather, savoring his tremble. “Lick them. You don’t have to lick the bottoms but lick the leather of my boots as if you were licking my pussy. Imagine you’re doing just that—my boots are an extension of my sexuality, an extension of my pussy... show Ms. Sarah how you want to serve her pussy.” Sarah watched as Cole began to lick with a newfound passion, mind spinning. Inside, something clicked—he had never understood the mental connection between a woman’s attire and her sexuality so completely as he did now. He vowed never to forget that lesson. His cock stiffened at the thought of pleasing her so thoroughly. He licked and lapped, his tongue tracing the seams of the leather, occasionally looking up to catch the glow of her approval, wondering if his work made her pussy wet. “Good boy,” she murmured, gripping the back of his head. “You please me. Now worship me properly.” She pulled him between her thighs, spreading them slowly, deliberately. His breath hit the folds of her pussy—warm, reverent, hungry. She heard the sharp inhale, the pause before his tongue slid out and tasted her. Sarah exhaled, head tilting back, fingers tangling in his hair. She rolled her hips, guiding him without words, using his mouth like an instrument. His tongue traced her folds, slow and soaking, lapping up her arousal with desperate grace. She moaned low, raw and steady. Her thighs pressed tight around his head. “Fuck… yes…” she whispered, hips beginning to grind into his face. Cole groaned as she rode his mouth, the scent of her everywhere, the taste consuming. His tongue circled her clit—gentle, then hard, then teasing again. Her breaths came in gasps. “God, I’m close…” she moaned. Her voice dropped, a growl through her teeth. “Do you like pleasing me this way?” “Yes, Ms., I love serving you,” he rasped, lips never leaving her heat. That was the last thread. Sarah snapped, pleasure crashing into her spine like a whip. She cried out, hips seizing, legs shaking as the orgasm hit. And Cole—bless him—kept going. His tongue worked her through it, lapping and sucking, chasing every last tremor. Another wave followed, then another. Sarah gasped, grinding harder into his face, chasing echoes of her own scream, letting him drown in her. “Don’t stop,” she breathed. Cole’s breath was ragged, but he obeyed, tongue sliding slick over her soaked folds. Her body arched—again, again. She shook, fingernails raking across his scalp. When her final shudder passed, she sagged back slightly, breath catching on a laugh of disbelief. Still tingling. Still throbbing. Still buzzing. But she wasn’t done. Not by a long shot. Sarah lay back on the couch and guided Cole to sit still between her legs as she recovered. Cole sat sideways between her legs and against the couch, his head spinning in the desire that burned. His head lay on her leg, needing to be as close as possible. Jim took it all in as they both recovered. After a time, Sarah stirred. She sat up straight and looked at Jim. “I sense his need here, and I sense that he likes this,” she said. Jim looked down to Cole and asked, “What about it, Cole? Having fun?” Cole instantly replied, “With all due respect, Sir—fuck yes!” They all laughed. Sensing Cole’s need, Sarah dragged the toe of her boot along his thigh, resting it beneath his cock. “Stroke yourself again,” she commanded. Cole whimpered but obeyed, coming to his knees, his cock still throbbing. He stroked desperately, precum smearing across her leather. Sarah urged him on, purring, “I don’t want you to think that Ms. Sarah is completely sadistic,” as she stroked his hair lovingly. Cole looked at her, kneeling between her legs, moving closer, his eyes flicking over her slick, open pussy... her bare breasts... and, once, locking with hers. Every glance was a confession. A need unspoken. He stroked his cock in trembling, reverent pulls, pausing to rub the head along the inside of her knee. Almost imperceptibly, Sarah shifted closer, letting his cock slide behind her bent knee—just enough friction to make him gasp. His breath caught. She saw the quake in his body, the breaking point behind his eyes. Her left hand dropped to her pussy. “Look in my eyes,” she said softly. His breath caught again—deeper this time—when their eyes locked, and her voice came with a dark velvet command: “Come on my thigh, Cole.” At the sound of his name, Cole came hard—a copious spurt of semen hitting the black upper leather of her boot. It was hot, slick, and forceful—spattering across the boot before overshooting and landing thick on the soft flesh of her upper thigh. She was already there. With the middle two fingers of her left hand buried deep in her cunt, and her right-hand fingers wrapped tight in his hair, her orgasm detonated with his second spurt. A raw, guttural moan ripped from her throat as her hips jerked forward, cunt pulsing hard around her fingers. She instinctively yanked him to her as she collapsed back onto the couch, her body convulsing. Spurts three and four smeared wetly across the crease of her thigh and belly—in tribute to her—even as she dragged him into a deep, probing kiss that was all tongue and breath and tangled whimpers. She was still coming, her core clenching, her pulse thudding through every nerve like fire through wire. “You’ve been such a good boy,” she whispered against his lips. He shuddered under her touch, the heat between them still sparking. Sarah wrapped her fingers around his spent cock, stroking slow and teasing, letting him feel just enough to ache again. Jim looked on in full compersion, glad to see his Sarah enjoying herself so much. She had Cole sit on the couch beside her as they both recovered. After a time, they separated, and Sarah dispatched Cole to bring another towel and clean her. He returned, careful and thorough, his hands steady despite his trembling breath. When she was satisfied, she had him sit beside her on the couch, close but not clinging. His thigh brushed hers, grounding him. Jim poured himself another inch of whiskey and leaned against the nearby dresser, arms folded casually. His eyes scanned them both—not as a judge, but as something deeper. A witness. “While everyone’s recovering,” he said, voice calm, “let’s have a short debrief. No roles, no posture. Let’s just be three friends and talk about how this is going.” He looked at Cole first. “So,” Jim said, eyes sharp but not unkind, “tell me your thoughts on the scene so far. What’s working for you? What’s not?” Cole swallowed, glancing from Jim to Sarah, his voice hoarse but clear. “It’s everything I hoped for… and more intense than I expected. The control, the intimacy. The way she sees me.” He looked down at Sarah’s boots, still damp with his release, then back up at her, breath catching slightly. “And that moment… when you told me your boots were an extension of your pussy—that broke something open in me.” Sarah tilted her head, watching him closely. Cole pressed on, his voice lower now, quieter. “I’ve never had a woman say that so directly. It flipped something in my head. I wasn’t just serving… I was serving you, your body, through what you chose to wear. And it was so fucking hot, Ms. It made it real. Not play. Not metaphor. Just... real.” Jim raised a brow, impressed. “And now you’ll never look at boots the same again.” Cole gave a breathless laugh. “No, Sir. Never.” Sarah smiled slowly, her fingers resting lightly on his knee. “Good. They’re part of me. You lick them, you worship me. That’s what I meant.” Cole nodded, eyes shining. “It landed, Ms. Right between my ribs.” Jim gave a small nod, brow furrowed not with concern, but with interest. “Anything feel off to you? Anything that pushed you past where you were ready to go?” Cole shook his head. “It was overwhelming. But never unsafe. Even when I was shaking, I felt—held. I wanted to be broken, and you did it right.” Jim glanced to Sarah. “Your thoughts?” Sarah sat up slightly, breath finally even. Her voice, when it came, was low and sure. “I felt… powerful,” she said. “More than before. There was a moment I stopped thinking about doing it right and just did what felt good—for me. It wasn’t about performing. It was about owning.” She looked down at Cole again, then back to Jim. “He made it easy. He invited it.” Jim smiled, slow and satisfied. “He did. You responded well. Controlled when needed. Cruel when it served. But never careless.” Sarah’s eyes met Jim’s, her voice gaining a thread of curiosity. “And what about you? What did you see?” Jim exhaled through his nose and smiled faintly, his gaze holding hers. “I saw my girl become a Mistress.” Sarah’s lips curled at that—just the barest twitch, but unmistakable. Jim continued. “You weren’t mimicking anyone. You didn’t channel me. You didn’t echo what you’ve seen. You moved like you. You used your voice, your instincts. You claimed.” He lifted his glass to her. “That’s the real threshold.” The room held a beat of silence—charged, proud, and glowing. Sarah nodded once, letting it settle in. “It felt different this time. Like I wasn’t just trying it on.” Cole murmured, still soft, still stunned, “It didn’t feel like that either, Ms.” She ran her fingers back through his hair again, slow and possessive. “Good,” she said. “That’s exactly what I wanted.” Jim took another sip of his drink and gave a low, approving sound. “Then I’d say we’re exactly where we need to be.” Jim sat back down and grew quiet, letting them grow together. After a time, Sarah said, “Cole, do as I say…” “Yes, Ms.,” he said. Sarah slipped off the couch and crawled on all fours to Jim’s chair. “Cole,” she said, “get behind me and rub my pussy with your soft cock until it gets hard—as I look at Jim. I want my Master to see what he has given his submissive.” Cole moved quickly, breath shallow, his cock already starting to swell with anticipation. He knelt behind her, guiding his soft shaft along the slick seam of her folds. His cock, flushed and twitching, nestled against her, growing harder with every pass across her wet slit. Sarah looked up at Jim, her eyes burning as she mouthed first, Thank you, then, I love you. Jim’s voice was calm, proud. “You are welcome. And I love you too.” “Fuck me,” she ordered, pressing her palms to Jim’s chair, arching her back. Cole groaned, gripping her hips. He lined up with trembling control and slowly pushed inside her. “Don’t stop. And don’t come until I tell you. Understand?” she commanded, her voice low and sharp. “Yes, Ms.,” he said. He began to move—deep, steady thrusts that sent pleasure blooming up her spine. Her head dropped between her shoulders, and she gasped at the sudden intensity. The stretch of him, the fullness, the friction—it all hit her faster than she expected. Raw and urgent. Each thrust drove her closer. Pleasure built fast—not gentle, not slow. It slammed into her in waves. Her body trembled, struggling to hold its posture under the rush. Jim watched from above, one hand resting on his thigh, the other holding his glass, eyes narrowed in focused approval. He counted them. Measured her. And then—white heat. Her fourth orgasm ripped through her like a storm. This one wasn’t soft. It shattered her. She cried out, legs buckling, hands gripping the arm of Jim’s chair like lifelines as her cunt clenched hard around Cole’s cock, spasming again and again. Cole moaned in desperation, hips stuttering. He pulled out at the last second, unable to hold back, and came hot across her ass—thick ropes of cum streaking her skin. Sarah smirked through her panting, trailing two fingers through his release, smearing it slowly over the curve of her ass, then lower. Possession in motion. Jim chuckled, eyes glowing. “Beautiful.” Sarah pulled away from Cole and steadied herself, reaching back to brush his hair from his damp forehead. “You did well,” she murmured, voice warm but final. “Now go home and rest.” Cole nodded, kissed her wrist reverently, and stumbled toward the door—spent, glowing, undone. Sarah sighed and stretched, lazy and sated like a cat.

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