I’ve spent so much time around people with wild fetishes that sometimes I feel like my own tastes are a little boring.

Mostly, I fantasize about penetration in all its forms: pressing my finger into a warm, wet pussy…sliding my strap-on ever so slowly into someone’s ass…wrapping my own lips around a thick, hard cock and feeling it penetrate my throat.

Those are the images that get me off. Once, I even got to try urethral sounding and stick a metal rod into a guy’s dick. I thought I had reached nirvana when he let me replace the metal sound with my finger. After that, it seemed as though I had explored just about every avenue of my penetration fetish.

Darling Lisa proved me wrong.

Lisa was a professional submissive at the dungeon where I worked. Her classic Japanese beauty made her look like a porcelain doll, innocent and pure, but she was one of the most unashamedly sexual creatures I’ve ever encountered.

It wasn’t uncommon to come back to the dressing room after a session and find her nearly naked and masturbating on the couch. She had long, dark, silky hair that flowed over her shoulders and across her creamy, pale skin. She had the most naturally perfect set of tits I’ve ever seen, perky and full. Lisa wanted to be touched and kissed constantly, and because everything about her was soft and inviting, she was a continual temptation.

One innocent Thursday evening, I was doing some work for my day job in the dressing room when she came charging in after a session, horny and begging for release.

“My client just got me so turned-on, but I didn’t want to break the rules, so I didn’t let him do anything. Now I need to get off. Please, Mistress Scarlett. Don’t leave me like this.”

She threw herself down on the couch and started to play with her clit over her lacy white panties. I cocked an eyebrow at her and teased, “Looks to me like you can manage on your own.”

“Nooo! Please. I need to feel you inside me.”

She knew those were the magic words that I couldn’t resist. She parted her thighs in invitation, whimpering desperately.

I glanced at my watch, shrugged, and sat down between her legs, stripping off her panties. I let her keep rubbing her clit as I gently parted her pussy lips with my fingertips, barely touching her impossibly soft skin. She thrust her hips hard against me, silently begging me to plunge into her, but I wasn’t going to give her the instant release she was primed for. An orgasm is always better when you have to work for it.

 Instead, I slid my middle finger far enough into her slippery heat to reach her G spot, but instead of rubbing it, I pressed just hard enough for her to feel it.

I quickly added a second and third finger, spreading her deliciously soft folds and making her moan wildly. I pushed my fingers in and out of her in time to the rhythm of her thrusting hips.

“Oh, yes, Mistress! Harder! Fuck me harder!”

I obliged, pushing deeper and harder into her tight pussy, while watching the movement of her fingertips quicken on her clit. She seemed to be getting close.

I spread the three fingers that were buried within her, knowing she would feel the stretching pressure.

“More…” she begged.

I wasn’t going to give her the instant release she was primed for. An orgasm is always better when you have to work for it.

My fingers weren’t strong enough to spread any farther because she was so tight, so I tried to work my pinky finger in with the others.

She went wild when she felt what I was doing.

“Fuck yes, Mistress. Fist me.”

“Seriously?” I asked, surprised. It didn’t feel like I could fit my fist in there, but I knew it might be possible. I was dripping wet at the thought.

“Please, please, please…fist me! Fist me hard!”

I needed no further invitation. I pulled my hand back, delighted at how slippery my fingers felt from her arousal. When I pushed it back into her, it was with all five fingers pressing forward together. She felt impossibly tight, but I kept thrusting in and out until I had reached the widest part of my hand. I was ready to work it in slowly, but with a rough thrust of her hips, she forced it past the resistance. My whole fist was now inside of her and it was torturously erotic.

In classic Lisa fashion, she pursed her perfect Cupid’s bow lips together for an instant, savoring the sensations, before opening her mouth and letting loose a stream of filthy, barely coherent language. She looked like the picture of innocence, but the girl could talk dirty.

“Fuck my dirty whore cunt, Mistress! Own me. Use me. I’ve never been so full. You’re so deep inside me! Oh, God, yes! Fill my slut hole and ruin me for anyone else! Fist me! Fist my pussy harder! Harder! Make me come all over your fist!”

She groaned deeply and came. I could feel her pussy pulsing tightly around my hand, squeezing out every last ounce of pleasure. I gave her a few moments to catch her breath before slowly withdrawing my hand.

“Thank you, Mistress!” she grinned, searching for some clothes before she got in trouble.

The intercom on the wall crackled to life: “Scarlett, your client is here.”

I sighed.

“Please tell that worthless piece of shit I’ll be there when I’m ready,” I responded sweetly.

Lisa giggled in delight, “He’s into humiliation?”

“Yep.”

“Want me to come with you? We can make out and ignore him.”

“Sounds perfect.”

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