Isla hadn’t expected the girls forwardness. Maybe a whimper here, or a “Please mistress” there . Maybe if she was lucky, she'd get Megan to full on plead a bit and cry. But the forward nature of the girls sheer reckless abandon...well. That was unexpected. And ...very. Very welcome. Isla gasps, knees trembling, and thighs shaking with every single concentrated effort to hold on. Her fingers worm their way immediately through  Megans hair, thin, powerful digits working through the silken, damp tresses and giving them a solid, yank upwards before Isla grinds herself into her submissives face.<br/><br/>Isla is lost in thought for a few long moments, jaw agape as deep gasping rasps of air escapes from her lungs, hips crooked at an almost unnatural angle, chest heaving up and down, in an attempt to relax a her bust heaves upwards towards the sky. Her composure is long forgotten about.Protocol? Out the window. Now? Shes concerned with other things. Muscles twitching against the other womans ear's she settles down against Megans mouth, riding her face in slow, steady patterns , using her hair as make shift reigns.<span style="color: olive">"That's a start." </span>She grabs tighter...tighter and tighter, hissing between clenched teeth. With nails scraping against the other womans head twisting, pulling, she anchors herself to her submissive as she takes her pleasure in the most selfish manner :Not caring at all for the girls comfort.<br/><br/>Too wound up in her little submissive's delight in servitude, her willingness, no...eagerness to submit, to pleasure her .  To do EXACTLY what she is told , for that scant -prayer- that maybe, just maybe her mistress would take some sort of pity on her and grace her with her own climax and not let her simply stay a trembling, crying wreck.  That faith alone, was a rather staunch leap .  A very ...very large vote of confidence that beyond all else told the mistress that her little submissive, as new as she was...trusted her.  That she honestly, was starting to belong to the dominate woman with just a single night of play.<br/><br/>And like any two way street,  with that vote of trust and confidence, with that ability to be lead, came the very real responsibility of taking care of her toy. It was a heavy burden, but with years of playing with others submissive, and being one her self...this was somehow different. Megan, felt like<i>-hers-</i>. She wasn't broken for her, she wasn't given to her already knowing how to obey and trained. She was a blank canvas, and one for Isla to shape and mold as she saw fit.  And as Isla rode the girls face, gazing down in to those beautiful tear-filled eyes, desperate to cum, and just as desperate to please her mistress, Isla found her own release.<br/><br/>Something changes in Isla.  Something raw, and new and utterly confident. She was in control here. All of the doubt, the fear. Gone.  This was her submissive. Her slave. Her Pet. Her toy.<br/><br/>At least for tonight. And they only way it would be more than just tonight...was if she acted like  Megan already belonged to her.<br/><br/>With a wicked glint in her eye, and a curl of her lip, she starts to tease,<span style="color: olive"> "Thats -my- girl..." </span>she bucks her hips once hard.<span style="color: olive"> "My little whore..."</span>Again they buck, this time wetness flows from her sex as her clit throbs with tension under the prone girls tongue.  She continues toe ride her face roughly, jerking Megans hair ruthlessly,wrapping it around her wrist and riding her face until the last of the aftershocks have left her body.<br/><br/>She tenses, trembling, eyes sealed shut , holding the girls head in place, she orders with out even looking down.<span style="color: olive">"Don't you dare fucking look away..."</span>Finally after the last of the aftershocks leave her , she pulls her still aching, wobbling thighs away, before taking her hand and smearing her remaining slickness all over Megans face.<span style="color: olive"> "Look at you..." </span>She whispers softly, dipping her fingers forcibly into the kneeling girls mouth.<span style="color: olive">"Look what the promise of cumming has reduced you to...Such a fucking whore...."</span>she stops herself, giving Megans sticky cheek a little thwap, before kneeling down to her level and- yanking- the girls head back with the hair clutched   with her free hand.<span style="color: olive">"<b>-MY- </b>whore." </span><br/><br/>Isla leers possessively, swatting Megans cheek sharply. before bringing those fingers back to rest in her mouth.<span style="color: olive">"I bet you think you deserve to cum...don't you? One orgasm...and I should let you finally get off?</span>" Her free hand moves out of the girls mouth, down between her breasts , over her stomach to cup her sex. The same two fingers the violated her mouth slip between her thighs and immediately sink into the girls sex.  The wet, aching flesh is easily accommodating, and Isla can't help but push another button..<span style="color: olive">."FUCK...look at you...so fucking wet and desperate for me.." </span>she whispers hotly  into Megans ear , giving her hair a tug, as her fingers slowly, -PAINFULLY-  slowly start to work in and out.<span style="color: olive">"How badly do you -need- to get fucked Megan?" </span>She intentionally uses her submissives name, and when she does it's uttered in a slow, throaty register, that she has been saving -all- night for that very moment.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>