Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Copyright 2004.



   "Madam Juliet"



   I am sitting here looking at a picture of Juliet.  She was once my
mistress.

   Now, don't get all excited!  This isn't about whips, boots, and bondage.
Domination can be subtle.  A dominatrix can be tender, benign, liberal,
friendly even.  She doesn't have to make you crawl across a rubber mat and
lick her shoes.........  Oh to thunder with it - a bitch is a bitch is a
bitch!  Even one who is still on your Christmas card list!

   When I met Juliet, she was dating Denny.  Actually I met Denny first,
professionally, and he introduced me to Juliet.  Instantly I disliked her;
she was a spoilt madam, and that's that.  Instantly, however, I also got an
overwhelming crush on her.  I have always admired oriental women, and
Juliet was exceptionally beautiful, with golden skin and almond eyes.  The
very sight of her seemed to make me very aware of my own clothing against
my skin - I could feel my nipples hardening and my cunt beginning to
moisten.  I had always had lesbian tendencies, but she gave me the
strongest sexual buzz of any woman I had met for a long time.  Still, I
loathed her as a person, and the result was very, very confusing.  I
couldn't help conjuring up her image when I masturbated, but I would almost
literally kick myself afterwards!

   Eventually Denny and Juliet got married.  I don't know why I always
considered that it was not going to work out between them, but perhaps it
was because I had Juliet down as a selfish person who was never likely to
make anyone happy.  It turned out that I was right about that, but a lot of
it is Denny's business, and nothing to do with this story.

   Let's just say that later on Juliet and I started to get on better, sort
of.  We got on speaking terms.  We both liked clothes, we both liked music,
OK she was damnably self-opinionated, but I found I could live with that.

   How did she and I get together?  If "get together" is the right term.

   One day she and Denny were having a slightly heated discussion.  It was
too trivial to be a row, but it looked like it might have been heading for
Juliet being in a grump.  She wanted to go and see a horror movie which was
only showing at the local flea-pit for just one more evening, and Denny had
an appointment he couldn't break.  Juliet was beginning to pout, but Denny
shrugged his shoulders and said, "Why not go with Eva?"

   I must admit that I could have thought of better things to do with my
time, but I agreed, and Juliet brightened up considerably.  When Juliet
brightens up it is like the sun coming out.  She becomes really animated,
and her smile is absolutely radiant.  She got a glass of wine for herself
before we set out, and became a little flushed (when Juliet blushes, her
golden skin seems to turn apricot!), but all-in-all she was in a pretty
good mood by the time we left the flat.  When we got to the cinema, she
curled up on a seat, like a kid on a treat, and sat popping popcorn into
her mouth.

   Eventually the lights went down.  The trailers and adverts came on. 
Juliet sat quietly singing to herself, "Boring, boring, boring!" But then
she sat up when the main feature started.  I can't remember what the film
was, but it was certainly something to do with a stalking killer, armed
with a knife, who would jump out on people when they, and the audience,
least expected it.  I wasn't all that interested in it myself, and spent
some of the time watching Juliet, bouncing on her seat at each shock, more
and more like a child as the film went on.

   There came a point when there was an exceptional shock on the screen;
Juliet gave a little shriek and grabbed my arm.  As it happened, I had been
looking at the screen myself, but when I felt my arm grabbed, I turned
towards her.  It is not easy to say that our eyes met, because of course it
was dark!  But we were both aware that we were facing each other, and that
our faces were close.  I felt her breath on my cheek, and realised that she
was breathing quickly.  Suddenly she seemed to dart her head forward, and I
felt a light kiss planted on my mouth.  To say I was surprised would be an
under-statement.  I fought to keep my head.  What had just happened? 
Juliet had just kissed me.  What was about to happen?  I didn't know.  What
did I want to happen?  I wanted Juliet to kiss me again.  I thought,
"Steady.  Don't move back.  Keep still.  Let's see if she kisses me again."

   Nothing....  For what seemed like several minutes, but was probably only
about ten seconds.  Juliet's hands still held my forearm, our faces were
still turned towards each other, and were still close.  She was still
breathing quickly.  My own breathing was very shallow, as if I did not want
my breath to push her face away; my pulse was a galloping
"thumpity-thumpity" in my ears.  My attempt to keep my head after having
been kissed by the most gorgeous, most thoroughly spoilt, sexiest, most
insufferable woman I had ever met was beginning to falter.  I had to do
something, or I would be sitting here knowing that she had turned her head
away.

   So I bent forward and kissed her.  It seemed to be the signal she had
been waiting for.  One of her hands let go of my arm, and insinuated itself
behind my head, and she kissed me - passionately.  We were lips-to-lips,
tongue-to-tongue, and I got the wonderful after-taste of popcorn and wine.
She strained forward, although we were separated by the arm of the seat, as
if she wanted to press her tits against mine.  We got as close as we could
in the constraint of our seats, and kissed, and kissed, and kissed until we
had no breath left.

   When we broke off I said, for some reason, "Let's watch the film!" So we
sat for the rest of the movie holding hands like a couple of kids.

   We held hands at the back of the bus too, where no one could see us. 
Almost absent-mindedly, she caressed the back of my hand with her thumb,
sending shivers up and down my arm.  When we got off the bus, there was a
two minute walk to the flat where she and Denny lived, and a walk of about
eight minutes to my house.  A little nervously, I asked her if she would
like to come back for coffee - coffee is probably the commonest euphemism
in the English language - and to my utter surprise she said yes.  She
linked arms with me, as only women can, and off we walked.

   Once we were inside my house (how untidy it seemed to me - as a single
woman I saw no reason to be house-proud), each with a cup of coffee, my
nervousness returned.  It seemed as though sparks flew between us, making
the air crackle.  The conversation faltered, and five minutes passed, as we
stood in my kitchen, sipping our coffee.

   "Take me to your bed," Juliet said suddenly.

   In a way it seemed like an order, so I took her hand and led her
upstairs.  In my room, I switched a bedside lamp on, and when I turned back
to her, I was surprised to find that she had already shed her clothes.  I
couldn't help pausing just to look at her.  I don't know if, before or
since, I have ever seen a more exquisitely beautiful woman!  Maybe oriental
girls don't turn everyone on - they are generally small and slim, and I
know that some people prefer voluptuous figures - but they work for me! 
Her tits were small, perfectly symmetrical on her rib-cage, and had
absolutely identical nipples.  Her limbs were slender but rounded rather
than skinny.  Her hips were narrow without being boyish, and as for her
curls, they were a sparse V of down - she was in her mid twenties and had a
cunt like I had when I was just getting through puberty!

   "Stop gawping at me, Eva," she said.  "Get undressed!"

   I obeyed, quickly but clumsily, and let my clothes fall in a heap on the
floor.  Then she was all over me!  Her kisses were hungry, and her hands
wandered all over my body, teasing not only my nipples, my labia, and my
bottom, but any other part of my body that she thought would react - the
inside of my elbow, the back of my neck, and so on.  I just clung
desperately to her, pushing my belly against hers, grabbing any part of her
I could.  For a while we came apart and played with each other's tits,
sucking and rubbing.  Then she simply thrust her hand between my legs and
crooked a finger inside me.  I took in breath sharply, and went up on my
toes.  This was all happening like a fantastic dance - no build-up, no
seduction, just frantic, random hunger.  She pressed her mouth to mine,
sucked at my bottom lip, and then broke away and flung herself down on the
bed.

   "You will eat me!" she declared, spreading her legs wide.

   Whoa!  Yes madam!  She was going to get no argument from me, because it
was a while since I had had sex with anyone, and right now I really wanted
to lick her silly, and be licked myself.  So I mounted her, to make a
sixty-nine; but to my surprise she pushed me away.

   "No!  No!" she said sharply.  "YOU eat ME!"

   Well OK, I thought, let's play take-it-in-turns if you like.  So I knelt
down in front of her and did the dirty thing with my tongue - you all know
how it goes!  I looked up the bed, and saw that Juliet was enjoying it. 
She was almost purring like a kitten!  Her eyes were closed, her face was
flushed, and she was rolling an index finger round each of her nipples.

   I'm good with my tongue, and can make a girl last for some time before
pushing her over the edge, but Juliet had made me impatient, and I simply
gave her hard and insistent tongue until she came.  I kept a watch on that
face of hers, and I have to say that she was very beautiful at the moment
of her climax.  She wasted no time lying there, however, but sat up with a
smile on her face.  She planted a quick kiss on my lips, and I lay back on
the bed, expecting my turn.  To my surprise, I saw that she was getting
dressed!  I sat up, not knowing what was going on, needing to come but
feeling let down.

   As she was zipping up her jeans she said, "Walk me home, Eva."

   I nodded.

   "Get dressed then.  You'll catch cold like that."

   She was right.  I felt chilly.  I felt angry too.  She had just used me
as a wanking machine!  She had used me like a bloody vibrator!  But......

   I walked her home, meekly.  I walked her home, feeling like a
millionairess because she held my arm.  I walked her home, all the way to
her flat, walking as slowly as I could so as to prolong the time I could be
close to her.  I walked her home, and allowed her to pull me into a shop
doorway for a long kiss.  The kiss seemed to say, "Next time ....... 
Maybe!" I walked her home, only to see her skip off round the corner
without a backward glance, leaving me to walk all the way back again.

   And I walked back in anger, vowing never to let any woman treat me that
way ever again.  Well, that was what was going on under my breath, but deep
down inside I couldn't wait for the next time.

   The next time?  What next time?  I stopped in the middle of the road
(HONK HONK - I set off again, and stopped by the roadside).  We hadn't
fixed up to see each other again!  And I didn't know when I would have a
legitimate excuse to get in touch with Denny, let alone Juliet, for the
next week!

   When I got home, I sat on the edge of my bed for half the night,
conflicting emotions rampaging through me.

   As it happened, she telephoned me the very next day.  Was I available
later in the week to take a day-trip with her?  She had a morning
appointment in the next county, but fancied lunch out and a little
shopping, and thought it would be nicer with a companion.  Was I available?
Yes madam I was available if I had to cancel tea at Buckingham Palace! 
Gone was all the anger at her treatment of me, and instead I was a
"schoolgirl in the flurry of my first affair"!  It was all I could do not
to start prettying myself up two days in advance.

   We were to travel by train, and met in the station concourse.  She
smiled at me when I arrived.

   "Hi, Eva!" She greeted me like a long-lost friend with a kiss on each
cheek ("Mwah ......  mwah!").

   She looked me up and down and nodded in approval at the clothes I had
taken two days to select.  She of course had merely stepped into something,
and managed to look like a cover girl with no effort whatsoever.

   "Mmm.  Looking good!" she said.  I felt as though my high heels had just
grown another inch.

   The journey was good.  The train was almost empty, and at one point we
were hidden by our high-backed seats from any other passengers.  That was
the point at which Juliet leant over and kissed me, long and slow!  We
heard the conductor coming to check tickets, however, or the kiss might
have lasted until the next station.

   Apart from having to hang around while she had her morning appointment,
the rest of the day was good too.  We walked about the strange town, and
because it was unfamiliar territory, she felt confident in holding my arm a
little more possessively.  We drew stares - people seemed to be looking at
us and asking themselves, "Are they, or aren't they?" Juliet, frankly,
turned heads anyway.  She looked utterly gorgeous, as always, and got
envious looks from women and appreciative looks from men.  I got the
hostile looks!  Men would look at me as if to say, "Why are you wasting
that woman, you lez?" But I didn't care - I just liked being with her, I
liked walking along with her, with my head in the air, as if to say to all
the lookers-on, "Think lez, or think what you want.  She is with me, and
that's damn good!"

   Lunch was good, shopping was fine, although I spent a lot more than I
would have done.  I let myself be swayed by Juliet's choices of clothes for
me.  She made me try on things I wouldn't have chosen for myself, and I had
to admit she was right - they looked good on me.

   As we rode home in the train, I realised that I was the proverbial putty
in her hands.  She could make me do whatever she wanted, whenever she
wanted - come on a trip, wear this, do that!  She was my mistress, and I
did as I was told.  If she had, after all, cooked up some scheme with
boots, and whips, and humiliation, I would simply have gone along with it
and abased myself at her feet.  But she didn't have to - that's the secret!
She didn't have to!

   When our train pulled in at our home town, she surprised me by hailing a
taxi.  We both got in, and she gave her address to the driver.

   "Denny's away," she said to me.  "I could use some company - it's early
yet, and I don't want to break up our day.  Pop back to the flat for a
while."

   Yes madam.

   As soon as she had shut the door of her flat behind us, she grabbed the
front of my jacket and pulled me to her.  She kissed me hard, pushing me
against the wall, and damn near bashing my head in the process!  She ground
her lower belly against mine.  When she broke off the kiss, she let out a
gasp.

   "Oh!  I've been dying for sex all day!"

   She pulled me into the centre of the room.

   "Undress me, Eva," she ordered.

   "Yes, madam," I said, with an ironical curtsey.  But nonetheless I
obeyed her, unbuttoning and peeling off every layer of her clothing, until
that golden body was naked again.

   "Now, lick me!" she said.

   "Yes, madam," I said.  No curtsey, sure, but no irony either.  I had
been given an order, and I was going to obey it.  She sat her little naked
self down on a chair, and I knelt in front of her, pushing her legs apart
as I knelt down.  I got to work with my tongue.  I have to say I had been
longing to do this.  The last time - the first time - this had happened, I
had been so dizzy with excitement I had hardly any time to savour the scent
and taste of her cunt.  Now I did, as I gave her the slow treatment.  Also,
I made a point of looking at her cunt - my, it was really beautiful!  Neat,
parallel lips, a pink interior with a dark, tight hole, and at the top an
absolute jewel of a clit!  I would gladly have given a lifetime of total
servitude to someone whose womanhood was this beautiful!

   This time, I had figured out that I was unlikely to have a chance to sit
where Juliet was, and so as I licked her I thrust one hand down the front
of my waistband and wanked myself as my tongue worked on her.  I tried to
gauge it right and, yes, I got us to come almost together.  It may not have
been exactly how I would have wanted it, but it was pretty good
nonetheless.

   Having been seen to, Juliet got dressed.  Then she cooked us a meal,
which was really good.  After that, we sat around for a while - a cuddle or
two, a kiss or two - until it got late.  She didn't offer to let me sleep
with her, but at least she did offer to walk me home.  Of course I said no
- I couldn't let my mistress do that, could I!

   I'll be brief.  If I've told you the story so far, then I've told you
the whole story.  Our dates were like that.  We never slept together, she
always took tongue but never gave any, I always had to wank myself.  And
yet I kept turning up, time after time, because she told me to, and because
I wanted to.  Then one evening, after she had come, she seemed restless,
making little tutting noises with her tongue.  She gave me only the
briefest peck as a goodnight kiss.  The next time I was round the flat, she
was very demonstratively hanging round Denny's neck, to demonstrate to me
that her little lesbian fling was over!

   I have to say that I did feel crushed.  Strangely, when she and Denny
broke up shortly after that, I actually felt sorry.  Even more strangely,
Juliet and I kept in touch for a long time.  It was as if sex between us
had never happened.  We were left with a kind of superficial friendship,
and we could happily meet up and go shopping together.  Since then, of
course, I've moved away; we send birthday cards and the like, and
occasionally telephone each other.

   But now I'm looking at the only picture I have of her.  Although she is
fully dressed, I'm thinking to myself, "I know exactly what is making the
swell in that sweater; I know exactly what's at the top of those legs!" And
I know something else: I don't love her - I don't think I ever did - but if
she knocked on the door now, and ordered me to lick her, I would, obey.  I
wouldn't be able to help myself.  There are times, when I masturbate, that
I imagine what it would be like if the roles were reversed - if I were
"Madam Eva", and she had to kneel in front of me, and give me tongue and
finger just how I like it.  But more often, when she comes into my mind, it
is in her familiar role of the woman who uses me.  It's very potent, like a
drug, and that makes me glad that our affair didn't last longer, otherwise
the withdrawal symptoms would have been unbearable.  What I need now, more
than anyone else, is a girl with whom I can share love, romance, and
affection - maybe that will gentle the memory of Madam Juliet off my mind,
and she will no longer haunt my fantasies..........