Mimosa Ch. 02

"No.Philippe!" Her body tried to twist out of his embrace in a futile attempt, to face him. He held her firmly, his arm around her waist, a shackle of prevention. Her thoughts raced at random, trying to perceive the gift she held in her hands. "Her new home!" Her mind could not grasp this realization. "Philippe," she said, stopping her furtive attempts to turn around, "I cannot just leave here!" Her voice had taken a strained quality, a little fear, to enhance its plea. "My job, my family.they need me," she tried, controlling the empty sound her heart felt by expressing it.

"No, Oasis. I need you" His hold was no less, securing her seated to him, but his hand caressing her skin, moved towards her smooth sex, purposely holding her there firmly. They sat suspended this way, Philippe gaining a victory, when Oasis opened her thighs more against his own, giving his cupped hand more to hold. He wanted to open her. Slide his fingers between her lip's folds, and feel the wetness and heat she saved only for him. Her impatience was her own gift to him. Feeling her push against his stiff-cupped hand, he knew the moment of Sherita's gift had come. Not persuaded by the exuding heat he held, he slowly removed his aching fingers. Sitting forward abruptly, Oasis taken with him, he grasped her thighs on either side, roughly pulling them apart. "Say, yes!" He commanded, his strong hold no longer needed, with his insistence. "Sherita, take out the riding crop, and bring it to her lips."

Sherita sensed the atmosphere had changed the moment she saw him sit up so quickly. She had been mesmerized watching the two of them, and then seeing Oasis' skin again, openly available without protest, made her anxious inside. She did not know whether to stay or get up off her chair and leave, but hearing his statement, she pulled the crop out, and brought it to Oasis' lips. Her hands were ready to drop it, in both of their spread laps, the moment she felt she could stop her innate curiosity of their behavior.

Oasis closed her eyes, and only let the crop be pressed against her sealed mouth. She could have stood, the pressure released around her middle to hold her legs open against his own. Her answer was clear, even as she mumbled, "No," to the leather covered reed.

"Strike her Sherita," he said, softly against Oasis' ear. Oasis sharply opened her eyes, to look up into the confused ones of Sherita.

Sherita's hands visibly shook retrieving the crop back to her side. With a timid approach, she laid the end of the crop against the flesh open to her. It was a pathetic slap, she knew, but all that she could manage in her slightly amazed state of mind. Perhaps it was the knowing smile forming around Oasis' pretty mouth, or maybe a brief moment of clarity came to her, but her next slicing of the crop, landed full force, bringing an instant red welt in it's wake. Both, Oasis and Sherita cried out in surprise, the instant, pain and satisfaction reached the respected ones.

"Tres bien," Philippe complimented, tracing his fingers along the reddening surprise. "Again, Sherita," he said evenly, still caressing the mark, and pulling the other thigh, even further along to reveal fresh skin. A twin mark found its place here too, making Oasis gasp in acknowledgment, her indignant smile, replaced by a grimace of pain. Caressing both marks at once, his hands moved together up along her thighs, spreading his palms flat against them, and spreading too her tender lips between them. "Here!" His thumbs pulling the sides of her tender skin apart. Feeling Oasis tense and buck against him, he said, "Again!" Her body trembled, and feeling her short breaths against his own chest, he knew she was trying not to cry. He lifted her thighs from the knee, and placed them over his legs around her, leaning back, and pulling her with him, both arms around her middle, securing her again. "Continue, Sherita. Stop only when I say."

Oasis struggled against him, but only managed to push her bottom more towards the edge of the cushion, exposing her spread legs and sex more for torment. Her inner thighs became fires, her sex lips completing the inner half circle. Oasis could feel Philippe's desire harden against her back, her tormented movements leaving her bottom suspended between her legs and his. "Yes!" She screamed, as another lance of fire reached her through the middle. Her tears flowed without restraint, her body instinctively trying to get away.

"Enough."

Sherita lowered her gift, not seeing Oasis, but seeing only the angry looking marks, and swollen lips. She stood before them both, watching, as Philippe took both hands and gently caressed, and soothed the fire she had given. It surprised her, when Oasis responded by pushing her bottom back to the seat, so he could caress her more easily. His fingers glanced the swollen lips, and Sherita heard, not a moan of pain, but a moan of desire, before the lips were parted, and his fingers disappeared. Prying her eyes from this sight, with difficulty, she looked up. They were both staring at her, Oasis somewhat dazed, but Philippe, with an intense clarity. She watched as Oasis strained her head against him in pleasure, and saw the smile form on his lips, hearing his name, and then, "Yes! Oh yes, Philippe!!", in a breathless acceptance to anything he wanted. This was not the kind of slavery she had been taught to rebuke. "Excuse me," she mumbled automatically dismissing herself. Going to the kitchen, she wanted to cry, not knowing exactly what it meant to her, what she had just done, and had done willingly.

Philippe let Oasis come down from her pleasure, gently tracing his fingers around her thighs. Bringing his wet appeased tips to her lips, he enjoyed the way her mouth and tongue received them contentedly. Letting her lick and suck them, he said, "go to Sherita. I think she needs you to convince her, to say yes too." He helped her untangle her legs from his, and as her body stood and faced him sitting on the couch, he brought her burning sex to his mouth, and licked his own content. "Go." Pushing her gently away, he eased himself back again, and for his own moment to smell the scent she had left on his lips.

Oasis found her, sitting at the table, head in her hands. Her shoulders looked heavy around her. Oasis came up behind her, and massaged her burdened shoulders, gently. When they shook intermittently, Oasis knew, and felt compassion for the tears coming from her. Going to the side of Sherita's seated legs, Oasis kneeled along her thighs, placing her hand up against her chin, so she would look down to her. "Sherita, he is my Master. I am his slave, but he still needed me to say yes. The pain is not to force me, but to let me forget my fears and accept his desires." Oasis thought it was so clear, but she could still see confusion in Sherita's eyes. "Sherita, I have been terrible to you, I know, but Master trusts you. Just to let you weld something to me, he sees something in you, even if you do not understand it. Please stay with me!"

Sherita looked a long time into Oasis' pleading eyes. This beautiful face, so genuine, and concerned, held her gaze, and awaited her answer. "I will stay Oasis," she finally managed to say. She still did not understand, but from such an honest and earnest plea, she could not turn away, and think that another might take her place and perform her duty without integrity. "Oasis," she thought to herself. Pulling the kneeled girl in front of her into her arms, she felt only a stirring of love, and a feeling of being loved in return.

Philippe looked in on them both, seeing the unexpected embrace. To watch, his own feelings worked a mixture of fear and delight to know, things had gone along his plan. He left them, smiling each time he heard a quick laughter from the kitchen. His instincts were right. They always were. He began with the phone to finalize their departure.

Letting Go

Gently he caressed his collar around her neck, knowing he could pull, and she would pleasure him even being awaken abruptly. Oasis lay content and sleeping, her head rested on his shoulder, her body wrapped in perfect molding, to his own. He felt her shift, and sigh, a little purr he had become accustoms to. To any other, it would be considered a soft snore, but to him, she was a sleepy cat with her Master. Listening for a short while, his thoughts turned to her ready acceptance of a new home.

She did not question, did not have the true tantrum, he had expected. The accident had scared him, scared them both, he knew, just from the first days home from the hospital, the way she had clung to him. Leaving again was difficult, her acting out against Sherita, her only way to express this for her. He had no such outlet for expression. Business was a task, one to be completed, even when his own feelings were torn between the two worlds. Trusting others to care for her was something he wanted to act out against himself. Her easy acceptance thrilled and made him uneasy at the same time. She had never accepted his or anyone else's help, even if she had to go without eating some days, just to save a penny here and there. It was always, "No, I am all-right, I will ask if I need." Then she might dig in the bottom of her purse, and give her change found there to a bell ringer at Christmas or another institution outside of a store in the same manner. She never took or expected for herself, and he was drawn to this. Others too. Drawn to her endless unselfish spirit, some to use her, others in genuine love.

She gave herself to him, and he wondered why? She had once said jokingly, "Everybody loves me, Philippe!" He knew it was true. Yet she never acted as if she really believed it. Even when some poor boy would throw him at her, she treated him kindly, but always sent him, any of them away, broken hearted, and not even realizing the hurts she had caused. Looking at her wrapped against him this way, he wondered if she really let him care for her, or if she only let him think she did. Leaving her in the care of others, his constant worry became, she might find the attentions of another, more pleasing than his own. Sherita was not so worrisome, but Marcus always being apt and ready to stand in for him, made him wonders if even he might want her too much. Her acceptance of leaving her home made him happy. It was a step in knowing she had let a little more of herself completely belong to him, and that no other had made an impression in her mind.

Lacing his fingers around the collar, he let his worries rest. Her body's instant response, a tensing he felt along the length of his own, aroused him, to know his control, she felt even in her sleep. He pulled easily, letting her come awake slowly.

"Oasis," he whispered. Her hand automatically reaching his grasp around her collared neck. "Suck me slave."

And she moved. His pull not releasing, until her tongue reached the tip of his sex. She kneeled astride his leg, her wetness already felt on his thigh. Her mouth enclosed around him, even though her hands were still rubbing the sleep from her face and eyes. He pulled her hair up from the sides of her face, and pulled her mouth fully onto him. She did not fully open her eyes until her breath was taken too long, and silently she begged for a reprieve. Her eyes were golden even in the dark, and he let them brighten a little more before giving her air, then laying himself back, his hands no more demanding in her hair. Her tongue and mouth built his pleasure slowly until he could no longer lie still, and hips thrust upwards using her mouth in the manner to bring him pleasure. His cum she held, letting it seep from the corners of her lips, before she pushed her own face completely down on him, mixing her saliva, and his cum, where they met. When she swallowed, he felt his foreskin cover, then slide back again bringing another sensation through his body. She kept him there, swallowing against him, until his body relaxed, and she felt him bring her back to his shoulder contented.

"Bien esclave," she heard, drifting again against him.

The weeks were passing quickly. Only a few short days left to pack, to say goodbye to a house with so many memories. There were not so many feelings of having solid roots into this place, but she would miss the easy comfort, she found with Philippe here. Walking each room, her breathing sounded hollow against the walls of the empty rooms. Her mind flashed traces of images, she had spent in each one. Her over the door hanger above the mirror, stood out like a thorn. She had spent a lot of time secured just in this spot, in agony and in pleasure. She smiled at the reflection of herself, and with a small regret, waved goodbye to this image seared into her mind of the past. Closing the door, she met Sherita in the hallway.

"Good lord! Are you going to cry again?"

"No, Mamn. Just saying goodbye." Oasis blinked back the tears that were forming, impatiently. Philippe had said, Sherita should be called Mamn. It was very natural for Oasis to address her as such, especially after the weeks of training Philippe had given Sherita on her body, using the crop. This morning still ached on her inner thighs. "Is there something you need Mamn?"

"Yes, he just phoned, and we need to finish the last of the boxes in the kitchen. The movers will be picking them up soon." Sherita looked Oasis over briefly, an unconscious inspection that was brought by her profession. Oasis looked a little tired, but otherwise seemed physically fine.

The morning training sessions Philippe was teaching her, made her worry, that afterwards, packing and the move itself might be too much for Oasis to handle. Oasis though, never complained of any pains, even if the marks lasted some days, or if the lasting marks were crossed over by others. In some moments, when Oasis thought no one was watching, she would caress them, a shadow of a smile, and a glossy look in her eyes. Sherita was still a far cry from understanding the pleasure Oasis gained in the after, but giving the marks, she was less timid, and more commanding than she ever thought possible. Philippe had said, she would only be needed in the manner in which she was trained, and she still was. The added training of the crop was to her liking, and calling it training, she could justify its use in her skills as provider and caretaker. He had also recently given her use of Oasis, for any task she may wish from her, even physically. The physical implication had shocked her to a large degree. She really did not think of this girl in that way, but with her crop training, and watching Philippe pleasure Oasis, she felt her desires were only in the beginning stages. She filed the physical permission in her subconscious, "Perhaps.perhaps one day," she thought.

Packing the kitchen was a historical narration to the past. Oasis had an explanation for nearly every dish or plate being wrapped and stored in a box. So many different pieces, but Sherita smiled and nodded, letting Oasis ramble on as she worked.

"Oh!! This one Sherita!" Oasis exclaimed, failing to address her properly. "My grandmother gave this teapot to my mother. Do you know it was made in Japan during WW11? It's a funny story. It survived a war, and then my stepfather was going to sell it in a garage sale. A garage sale!!" Oasis spoke with utter disbelief and contempt, remembering this terrible crime. "I took it. Took all of these pieces, right off the table he was working on that day. This was the first, held it to me in a death grip, telling him, he had no right to sell what belonged to me!" Oasis laughed sadly, remembering. "He was already drunk, angry, and towered over me. Usually I was afraid when he did this, but I could not let him just sell away the only things I had left of her." Wrapping the teapot gingerly she continued, "It's not really so funny is it? This day, the teapot survived a different battle. He backed down from me, calling me a little bitch, but he did, and I took all the remaining pieces, even ones from my mother's childhood."

Sherita felt loving towards Oasis felt a need to protect, each time a part of her past was exposed. Remembering her own childhood, there were always hurtful incidents from the outside world, but not from her own parents. Patting Oasis on the arm, she smiled, and stood stretching her back. "I think we are finished!" She said.

Oasis tried not to cry, once again, when the movers came and finished taking everything away. Philippe had told her everything would be stored, all she needed were essentials bath and dress variety. She looked at the two cases sitting by her front door. "This is all." she whispered, wondering if she could change her mind, but as the driver Philippe sent, picked up the two cases, she knew it was too late. Looking back through the back car window, Oasis stared, her face unmoving, the life she had known for so long, growing smaller with each passing mile.

"Let it go child," Sherita said in her ear, "Let it go."

"Yes, Mamn." Oasis reached for the tiny box in her purse, holding the key to take her home. Caressing it gently, she tried to imagine.