There were few combination of words  in the English language sweeter than "Sorry Mistress."    Maybe "Please Mistress." . Or on occasion "Yes Mistress" , but "Sorry Mistress." did have a certain....ring..to it. A certain kind of submission, as well..what could a bound woman -really- be all that sorry for? What could she do that the utterance was required?  "Sorry Mistress" had implications the other combinations did not: It lacked the desperation of 'Please' and the servitude of 'Yes', but stood on it's own as a 'Sorry' implied the need, the want, the desire to do better.  That they were aching to please, while fearful of what might happen next. It was indicative that they'd do anything to go the extra mile and make things 'right'...they were eager to please.  And God,  did Isla love a girl willing to please.<br/><br/>Just when she thought there wasn't a single sound sweeter- the begging starts. The begging with her -name-.  Isla's eyes roll shut, her teeth sink into her lips, enjoying the supreme satisfaction of being begged. Knowing she teased the woman well enough( which didn't take a whole lot to be honest.) ,that she was desperate. If there was one thing girl loved more then eagerness to please, it was a beggar.  People usually would beg..or writhe for a bit and say they were sorry through clutched fists and gasping breaths...but Megan? She was both, simultaneously even. This one...she was a keeper.<br/><br/>Isla takes a moment to drink in her profound sense of self satisfaction, quite literally 'getting off' on it in-fact.  She's as on edge and desperate as the bound woman- but it wasn't her place to let go.  It was her place to keep her shit together, feign a bit of ambivalence and let this play out.  To be honest?  It was rare  for her to get -this - worked up..but the way the pretty little thing writhed and begged for her , she'd have to be made of stone not to melt.<br/><br/>Isla gazes at the bound woman in front of her. The uptight lawyer all....writhing and begging. It was rather intoxicating.  If it was anyone else, and this was their first session with her she'd have mercy.  But since this one was so very..very ...good. Damn near perfect.  Combined with the amount of time and effort Isla put into her getting her here...maybe it would be worth it to test her limits a bit more. She's deep in thought, teeth digging into her bottom lip enough to almost draw blood, she decides it's time to move forward.<br/><br/>Theres an ounce of doubt in her mind, (but only an ounce) as to if this was a good idea. Normally? These scenes went on with out an ounce of actual sex.  Not a single solitary lick, grope, or fondle for the dominant..but Isla was only so strong.  She liked the Lawyer, and it was getting increasingly difficult -not- to disrobe and tug the girl by the hair into her own sex and grind the lawyers face until sated.  While not at that breaking point just yet...Isla was getting there. So she decides to test the waters.<br/><br/>With a quick movement she pulls the tight fitting camisole up and over her head, exposing her thin, and pale body to the elements.  Her heavily tattooed frame stretches for a moment, rolling her shoulders as she walks over to the bound woman.  She 'climbs' up atop the submissive again, a knee on either side of her hips, and lets her hands move up under the dress blinding the girl.  Her fingers embed in the silken tresses of the lawyers hair, and she leans forwards, the weight of her palm-sized breasts ,grazing the girls shoulders.<span style="color: olive">"Oh sweet pea..."</span>she purrs in a tone that's slightly reminiscent of a mother and a predator all at once.<span style="color: olive">"What in the world am I going to do with you?"</span><br/><br/>She pulls the 'blindfold' up and off the lawyer, her elbows resting atop the woman's shoulder as she waits for her eyes to adjust. She notices the tears, and smirks, she was making more headway then she thought.  She leans in,whispering, her head tilted to the side like an inquisitive little puppy as she innocently asks,<span style="color: olive">"What shouldn't I stop?" </span>She questions,<span style="color: olive">"What is it you want...." </span>she lets the question flutter about like she sincerely has no idea-when she clearly knows- exactly- what the girl wants...it was just the profound joy of making her say it.<br/><br/>Isla's left hands snakes down the center of the bound girls body, while her other hand moves down a bit to rub and caress the lawyers throat.  She wraps her fingers around the woman's throat, and her tone gets a bit sharper, more authoritative,<span style="color: olive">"I can't give you what you want, unless you tell me."</span>She tightens her grasp on Megans throat, simultaneously forcing the lawyer to stare directly at her the entire time this was going on.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>