2 Mistresses: A Study in Seduction

"Only for a minute," Christine compromised, as she bent down and massaged the young woman's arrogant foot (yes, even her damn foot was arrogant), and she wasn't even given a win; shame was burning through her.

"Kneel down and use both hands," Samantha ordered, already looking forward to splatting a mile high orgasm on the oblivious stewardess's face. The ignorant woman didn't know that once you submitted at all, the rest was inevitable.

Christine reluctantly obeyed, getting on her pantyhose-clad knees and using both hands to give a deep foot massage... the kind she enjoyed receiving from her husband, but that required strength and concentration.

"That's better," Samantha nodded, as she began to read a magazine.

'She's reading a fucking magazine!' Christine thought to herself as she massaged the woman's ridiculously soft feet. How could she possibly be so dismissive and how could her feet be this soft? Didn't she even walk?

After a minute, Samantha adjusted, moving the other foot to the woman while also allowing her hem to ride up enough to showcase her natural red bush to this pet-to-be.

Samantha didn't believe in shaving her pussy. She had it trimmed by her assistant every couple of days, but the natural red patch was an alluring highlight of her sensuality. Plus, she had discovered that it retained her exotic, unique pussy scent that seemed to be a universal aphrodisiac. She had learned at a young age, after having half a dozen classmates literally begging to lick her, that her pussy was somehow unique. It tasted different than other pussies; it smelt different than other pussies. It was the Mona Lisa, the David, the Catcher in the Rye of pussies... And usually one lick, one scent, and all women, straight, bi or gay always came crawling back for more. Yes, on their hands and knees. Always.

Christine gasped as she got her first glimpse of the young lady's red beaver. Who climbs on a plane without underwear? If you're going to go commando at least wear hosiery!

Samantha noticed Christine's wide eyes and explained, "I'm not a big fan of underwear."

"So I see," Christine said, as she subserviently reached out for the other foot offered to her.

"Plus," Samantha added, foreshadowing her future plans rather bluntly, "it makes for easier access."

Christine didn't say anything, just tried to focus on the task at hand, but unable to get the red-covered pussy out of her head.

After a couple of minutes, Samantha said, "That will do."

Christine stood up, even more annoyed that there wasn't even a thank you. She shook her head and walked back to her normal duties.

Half an hour later, Christine began her next round. She started at the back, wanting to avoid that fucking pretentious passenger as long as she could.

When the stewardess finally approached her, looking nervous, Samantha noticed a run in the woman's pantyhose.

Samantha loathed pantyhose. They were a male invention and their sole purpose was to make women's life more inconvenient. She tanned regularly and couldn't fathom why she would disguise her perfect tan with fake, uncomfortable colours. She liked to wear lingerie with vintage stockings on very rare occasion, but generally she never wore them at all.

"I see you got a run in your pantyhose," Samantha said. "You probably should just take them off."

"Standard issue," Christine shrugged, as she noticed the run. She sighed; that was the second run this week. She admitted, "You're right though; I'd rather not wear them."

"I understand," Samantha nodded. "They're uncomfortable, cumbersome, and worst of all they prevent access to the good stuff."

Christine had thought that maybe the young redhead was hitting on her earlier, but had concluded that she was likely just a diva doing diva things. A spoiled daughter to some rich dad that parented only with money. Actually, Christine felt sorry for girls like that. Ones who grew up not knowing what love really was. They would probably continue the cycle of loveless family life when they had kids of their own... from loveless sex... and they wouldn't really cherish these kids, or even take a hand in raising them.

Christine had unbent to this diva a moment ago, and didn't wish to make that into a trend; so she laughed softly, and made it clear she didn't swing that way, emphasising her point with sexual innuendo, "The good stuff down there that I like, you don't have."

"Have you tasted from the other side?" Samantha asked. She had heard many women tell her they were straight only to have them begging to lick her moments later, and then always coming back for more.

"Maybe," the stewardess shrugged. The truth was that she had, while drunk at a wild sorority night of truth or dare. She had actually enjoyed it, but it was a one night thing and she hadn't thought much about it since she'd gotten married. On rare occasions, when hit on at work by a beautiful woman, she would reminisce about that one time, but nothing more.

Seduction was a poker game, and Samantha could read faces and body language well. She responded, "I'm guessing once in high school."

"College, actually," Christine responded, before realizing she was speaking at all.

"Well, I promise you that if you sampled my delicacy you would be forever changed," Samantha countered, a promise she could back with a hundred percent guarantee.

"I'll have to take your word for it," Christine said, knowing she had allowed this conversation to get way too personal. "Can I get you anything?"

Samantha nodded, "A glass of wine."

"Red or white?" Christine asked.

"Well, red of course," Samantha answered, her tone dripping with sexual innuendo, "Nothing tastes better than red wine."

Christine caught the innuendo and quipped, "I'm more of a rum or vodka drinker."

Samantha didn't respond, allowing the stewardess to think she'd won.

As soon as the stewardess left to get her drink, Samantha moved her fingers to her pussy and began slowly fingering herself. Her fingers were getting slightly wet, and she kept them busy even when Christine returned with the glass of wine.

Christine gasped as she witnessed the pretty young redhead masturbating. She'd heard people masturbating many times; she'd seen hands groping under blankets many times; seen women giving head a few times; seen guys fingering their women on occasion; and even a few couples having sex (although that was usually in the bathroom); but those activities had always been under wraps, if sometimes just barely. She had never seen anyone finger her pussy out in the open, obviously intending for her to see it.

As the stewardess arrived and placed the wine down, Samantha kept fingering herself. She asked, "Want your tip?"

"We don't accept tips," Christine replied automatically. She was rattled by the fact that she was somehow unable to take her eyes off the digits gliding in and out of the red bush.

"Oh, I insist," Samantha smiled, pulling her fingers out of her wet pussy and displaying them to Christine. "Clean my fingers."

"I couldn't do that, Ma'am," Christine gasped, "that would be highly unethical."

"Now!" Samantha ordered, standing up and shoving her two fingers right into the stunned stewardess's open mouth.

Christine was paralyzed by shock! Her two hands were occupied by holding the tray with the wineglass and trying not to spill it, and she felt helpless to avoid the two fingers in her mouth tasting of pussy juice as she was finger-face-fucked (was that even a real thing?) by this obstreperous passenger.

"Enjoy the appetizer?" Samantha asked, as she pulled her fingers out, then sitting down and flipping her skirt up to again display her wares, blatantly obvious about what she still had in mind for later.

Christine was stunned. The scent was oddly intoxicating and the taste was undeniably exotic and sweet. These feelings were offset however. She was also burning with anger; she had just been violated!

Confused and mad, Christine didn't answer, instead banging the wineglass down and marching away. Samantha called after her, "The taste is a lot better directly from the source."

Christine leaned against the wall. What was going on? Why was her pussy super wet? Why did she allow that to happen? Why had she just now licked her lips to retrieve any last remnants of that unique taste? How was she going to avoid this bitch for three more hours?

Samantha, meanwhile, kept her dress hiked up, her legs parted enough to give a glorious view of her honey box, as she texted Chloe:

Come see me, slut!

Instantly Chloe responded:

Yes, Mistress.

Christine calmed down as she scolded herself for her behaviour. She was checking her phone messages when she saw the light flicker; the light that indicated that someone was coming from coach into first class. This was usually a fellow stewardess, but on occasion some drunk or celebrity hunter.

She put her phone away and looked around the corner of her galley to see a blonde kneeling down beside the redhead. She sighed, 'What could this be about?'

Samantha ordered, "Slow licking, slut. This is just a sampling for you."

"Yes, Mistress," Chloe nodded, as she eagerly buried her face in her Mistress's pussy. She was way different from the no-nonsense police officer she had been six months ago. Back then she had been engaged to a man and talking about having children, but at the same time boldly contemplating him as a house-husband so she could become captain of a district one day. Now she was a personal servant to the bitchiest woman in the universe, yet with a strong and constant craving for her approval. It was a complete contradiction to who she had once thought she was as a person... now she just wanted to please, and along with her Mistress's approval often came the taste of her pussy, a taste that was second to none.

Samantha parted her legs even wider and allowed her pet to please her, looking forward to the stewardess's reaction. She resumed reading as she heard the clicking of heels coming towards her.

From her station Christine saw the heels on the floor first and instantly knew what was happening. Yet she approached those heels to see for sure, partly out of curiosity and partly out of duty. Then she saw it; a blonde head between the legs of the redhead. And she was definitely licking the redhead's pussy. Christine could even hear it!

Samantha moaned her enjoyment, not looking up from her book, "Nice and slow, my slut."

"Yes, Mistress," Chloe replied between licks, carelessly realising she was being watched. Originally serving her Mistress in public had been humiliating and stressful. But now she didn't mind what anyone apart from her Mistress thought, and hedonistically took every opportunity her Mistress allowed to taste her perfection. She no longer knew humiliation, only serving and reward.

Christine should have instantly demanded they stop. Instead she watched with mixed feelings. She couldn't believe the gall of the blonde passenger to do such a thing... to have no shame. Christine could even see she too was wearing no underwear! Yet, she was reluctantly impressed by such confidence and brazenness... those two didn't care what anyone else thought. However, Christine's job was to escort the coach passenger back to her seat.

Samantha glanced up and saw her next prey's face broadcasting her indecision. She had seen this look many times: the look of conflicting emotions. Sometimes Samantha would allow this to go on for a while, other times she cut right to the chase. This time she chased.

She introduced her pet to her pet-to-be. "Christine, this is one of my sex slaves, Chloe."

Chloe looked up, not concealing the fact that her lips were shining wet with pussy perfection, and greeted offhandedly as if she weren't eating pussy in public, "Hi, Christine. Nice to meetcha."

Christine was flabbergasted. Shocked by the casualness of both women. Shocked by the term 'sex slave'. Shocked at how beautiful the blonde was. Shocked by her own helpless stammer as she managed, "Um, h-h-hi."

Chloe offered Christine a treat, knowing her kinky Mistress very well, "Would you like to eat Mistress's pussy? It's very good." She sounded very like a sommelier recommending a favourite vintage.

Christine gasped, shock compounding shock as she heard such a blunt question wrapped in such pretention. The answer should obviously be no, but this aggressive passenger was so sexy, and she felt enthralled, not able to answer the question and able to do nothing but gawk, admiring the so-called Mistress's red hair and wet, inviting pussy.

Samantha said, "Chloe, tell Christine what you did for a living before becoming my personal pussy pleasing sex slave."

Chloe, used to sharing this, taking pride in the way her Mistress enjoyed showing off her pet's reliable submissiveness, answered, "I was a police officer."

Christine was stunned. First, she had never seen a female police officer that was so hot, except on cop television shows. Second, she couldn't fathom how a police officer would end up quitting a job requiring such bravery, so she could kneel submissively in public eating pussy.

"Go back to your seat, slut," Samantha ordered.

"Yes, Mistress," Chloe stood up, and deciding to assist her Mistress in the seduction, kissed the pretty stewardess.

Christine lost control of her own actions and they reverted to automatic pilot; she just stood there, unable to believe this beautiful blonde woman was kissing her. Not requiring her conscious decision, her mouth opened itself and allowed the sex slave's tongue to explore her oral cavern. Fire burned inside her loins; the intimacy of the kiss was powerful. She began kissing back, the two tongues soon dancing together.

Samantha smiled both at her pet's aggressiveness and her pet-to-be's response.

Breaking the kiss, Chloe giggled very unpolice-like, "You're so cute, ma'am." She then headed back to her seat with confidence, knowing she would now be back in her Mistress's good graces.

Christine stood there paralysed, her head spinning with her body's mutiny. Again she discovered the taste of the passenger's pussy juice on her lips and in her mouth... a taste that despite her normally strong sense of propriety she wanted more of. Even knowing she was being watched, she couldn't stop her tongue from thoroughly licking her lips for another sample.

"Come finish what Chloe started," Samantha ordered, her legs still spread open.

Christine remained paralysed, now by indecision. Her mind was screaming No, but her pussy, on fire both from what she had witnessed and the kiss she had just shared, was screaming Yes just as loud.

"Everyone is asleep, my pet," Samantha pointed out, utilising this submissive term for the first time. "No one will ever know."

Christine glanced at her customers who were indeed all asleep.

"Now, Christine," Samantha ordered, seeing the indecision in the woman's eyes, sensing the inner battle she was fighting between moral constraints and immoral lust.

Christine stared at the inviting red bush. The pussy was glistening like a Star of Bethlehem guiding the way.

Getting impatient, Samantha, having no time for the idea that patience was a virtue, threatened, "Look, either get down on your knees between my legs and get licking or I'll get Chloe back in here. This is a very limited time offer."

Christine knew she should walk away; she knew she should resist the growing temptation, but the allure of the pussy before her, the commanding aura of the woman before her, plus the tantalising samples that had already teased her taste buds, compelled her otherwise. Before she knew she was doing it, she had lowered herself to her knees between the redhead's legs.

Samantha smiled, a rush of adrenaline coursing through her like it always did after a successful seduction. She watched the pretty woman stare at her pussy, just inches away, frozen in place for one last moment of denial before the natural desire to obey took over.

Christine stared at the pussy. She wanted to lick it, to taste it, yet suddenly Jake, her husband, popped into her head. This was cheating. Yet, Jake, like every guy in the universe, would likely love to watch his wife with another woman.

Samantha sometimes allowed the pet to take her time before submitting, but she was horny; Chloe had gotten her revved up with her wicked tongue, and she wanted to get off. So she reached down, grabbed the stewardess's head and pulled it into her wetness. "Get licking, slut," she ordered, as she held the head firmly pressed against her pussy.

Christine was again surprised, yet overwhelmed by the strong, intoxicating scent that enveloped her. It was like being in a glassed-in rose garden where the scents were concentrated. She didn't even think about what she should do, she just did what came natural. She licked. And if the samples she had tasted on the passenger's fingers and the ex-cop's lips had been intriguing appetizers, the entree was heaven on earth. She could feel tiny fireworks bursting on her taste buds as she parted the wet outer pussy lips and licked deeply inside.

Samantha held the woman in place, enjoying the tentative first licks, knowing that the woman was approaching a transcendental moment of clarity that would forever change who she was as a person. She knew her pussy did that. It wasn't a smug confidence, well okay it was, but it was also the truth. Her pussy was a magic cauldron that transformed straight women into bisexual women, and often into lesbian women. It also turned strong-willed feminists into eager, submissive sex slaves who would do anything and sacrifice anything to again drink from the Holy Grail of pussy.

As she relished her new pet's ministrations, Samantha's attention flashed back to some of her other conquests:

-Her high school principal, who was going to suspend her for having drugs in her locker, but who instead had been fisted on her own desk, and who at graduation delivered her speech with a butt plug in her ass and a vibrating egg in her pussy (that Samantha was turning on and off at will for her own personal entertainment).

-A church minister's wife she had met at a baptism for a niece and ended up having her serve her in the sanctuary. The wife begged the Lord for forgiveness but didn't resist while Samantha fucked her with a candle.

-A very famous ex-Disney pop star who ate her out before the encore, while fans waited impatiently for almost ten minutes.

-A governor who would regularly fly across the country or even across the globe for a half hour fix of Samantha's pussy after first tasting it during an election campaign. She had kneeled on the tiles in a bathroom while security guarded their privacy. She then delivered her speech with her face literally glistening with cum.

-Her mother; she had been stunned when Samantha had without ceremony just walked in on her one morning a few days after her eighteenth birthday, straddled her face and ground on her mother until she came.

Christine couldn't believe how amazing this pussy tasted. She wondered if all pussy tasted like this. She had no recollection of what the pussy she had licked back in college tasted like, other than pleasant. This was a lot more than pleasant. It was as if strawberries and blueberries had been merged to form a new fruit, and then been concentrated into a thick, delicious syrup.

Samantha, now confident that the eager stewardess's tongue would continue its duties, released the stewardess's head and watched the new pussy-pleaser lick away.

Samantha pulled out her phone and began quietly filming. She almost always recorded a video of each seduction, which came in handy mostly for the insurance of potential blackmail threats to keep things a secret, but also for posterity.