Mortified. Aspen hadn’t ever liked the word or used it or really understood it. The word seemed like something from seventeenth-century England.
Aspen understood it now. She understood it directly. She knew how it felt to be mortified. She felt intensely mortified.
She felt ashamed of herself for what she’d done and she felt humiliated at what Fang got her to do. It was the same act, brought on by two sources, her lust and Fang’s order, with two emotional results. Shame and humiliation.
To be fair, with a third emotion as well. A rare one. A humming satisfaction high. She was low on the floor and acted in such a low-down way but it resulted in an emotional high.
Despite the shame and humiliation? Or because of them?
She masturbated — on live video! – for a bitchy spoiled Chinese woman she’d just met! By the name of Fang. Oh, and she had actual fucking fangs!
Aspen had gradually recovered after the orgasm. It was the worst of orgasms, it was the best of orgasms. Physically, it was amazing. There was no dodging around that, not even in Aspen’s mind. She hadn’t ever had a masturbated orgasm that was anywhere near that powerful.
Was it because of her nipple piercings? No. She’d had orgasms with the new piercings before this one. They were better orgasms than before but not like this. Besides, her nipples were not involved in this one. Not directly.
So this best of orgasms was caused by the worst of reasons. One or more of them. Fang. Lesbianism. Exhibitionism. Humiliation. Helplessness.
She had submitted… to the dominance of Fang… who wasn’t even in the same room as her!
After… the event… Fang had left her alone. Aspen had cooled her heels in the doll room. Or, really, she’d cooled off her pussy. Or maybe cooled her butt because she sat on that instead of standing on her feet.
Just her and the dolls. Hanging out. Post-masturbated orgasm. As witnessed by Fang.
And a video camera. Was… the event… recorded?
Fuck. Does a bear shit in the woods? Of course, Fang now had a recorded copy of it. Would she show it to anyone? It sounded like Fang was close with her twin but also maybe competitive with Xiang. Closeness and competitiveness were both reasons for Fang to display to Xiang Aspen’s display.
Then would Xiang mention it or even show it (gasp!) to Rylie?
It wasn’t worth two hundred thousand dollars!
But that was the thing. It was already done. It was in the past. And she still had a loooooooong way to go to get that two hundred thousand. And to get Rylie her two hundred thousand.
Six months of this shit sounded like an eternity.
Fuck. Whatever. What was done was done. At least it was only a harmless one-woman show. Put on by her. One woman putting on a show for another woman. Stupid. Embarrassing. Slutty. Yet ultimately harmless. Assuming the video of it did not get around.
At least it wasn’t anything lesbian.
Was it?
It sort of was. Fang talked her into doing it. Fang is a woman. Sort of. An immature spoiled punk, but still technically a woman.
Fang had also watched her after talking her into it. If a female stripper stripped for a woman, was that lesbian? If yes, then so was this. Actually, even if the answer to that question was no, this thing with Fang may still have been lesbian.
That crazy talk about Fang being Aspen’s Mistress and that Aspen was cumming for her….
Fuck! It was lesbian! Maybe not lesbian sex but it was lesbian. Like if you made out with a lesbian. It wasn’t sex but it sure was lesbian!
Fang left her alone. Or gave her plenty of time to dwell on it. It depended on how Aspen looked at and what was going on in Fang’s wicked mind.
What happened was a big deal, a bad deal with a big orgasm, for Aspen. She wondered what it was in the mind of Fang.
Maybe wealthy spoiled Chinese young women rubbed out orgasms in front of each other and it was no big deal.
Naw. Aspen couldn’t buy that. She would have heard about something like that, tight? Fang had persuaded her to do it in a casually confident way but she hadn’t acted like it was no big deal. She was intent on getting Aspen to do it and she said that crazy stuff during it. Fang had sounded excited by it. She sounded excited to see it and with her success in getting Aspen to do it. Fang was into it.
So, was Fang a lesbian? Probably, but it might be she was into it because she was power-tripping. Fang might be a dominant with only Aspen currently in the range of her dominance. She might be dominant in all things, sexual or otherwise.
Yeah, nothing personal!
It was possible but Aspen thought Fang probably was a lesbian. Just not for sure a lesbian.
Was this going to become some kind of regular thing? Fang would want Aspen to fingerfuck herself to orgasm? While dressed like a doll? Orgasming on the floor surrounded by dolls?
There were some weird fetishes out there but that would have to be one of the weirdest.
It wouldn’t be a regular thing. It couldn’t be a regular thing. Aspen could not roll with that. Nope. No, sir. The question was not whether it would be a regular thing. Aspen already knew the answer to that. The answer was no.
The real question was whether Fang thought it should be and would try to get Aspen to do it again.
Aspen hadn’t expected this today. Her arousal or Fang’s demands. Or this odd in-Limbo situation where it was hard to tell when and how and even if she should say no to Fang. How much did Aspen have to put up with? How much could she refuse and stand her ground without ruining her and Rylie’s opportunity for big money?
Next time, if there was a next time, would be different. Fang would not have the element of surprise.
Then again… now Fang knew Aspen was vulnerable. Fang knew it was possible to get Aspen to do this. She’d already gotten Aspen to do it once. It might actually be more difficult to deny Fang in the future.
But maybe Fang wasn’t a lesbian. Maybe she was curious about Americans or about how other women masturbate. Or she had nowhere else to direct her dominance. Maybe.
It seemed strange that Fang tried to dominate her so quickly after meeting her. She’d done it so confidently also. Would she have treated any attractive young woman this way? Or was it a thing, maybe an unwritten rule as part of the paid companion tradition?
Jesus, if it was part of that, then Aspen should try to warn Rylie!
If it was a traditional part of what paid companions had to do, had Caihong known? That was… that was… it was like prostitution! Except her “John” was a female and her “date” was for six months!
She should go find Rylie and warn her.
No, it had been hours. It was already too late. If Xiang had these same expectations, then Rylie had already faced them and, no doubt, put them to bed.
Put them to bed….
Probably not the best choice of words! More like put them not to bed. Of course, Aspen hadn’t been in bed.
Rylie was strong. Rylie was more composed than Aspen. Rylie was fine.
Besides, Aspen would have a hard time telling Rylie what she’d gone through, even hinting at it, even just skirting around it (or tutu-ing around it?). Even if she outright lied about the end result of the way Fang treated her. Just telling Rylie Fang tried something on her already seemed shameful. Like Aspen may have sent out some signal to Fang and was partly to blame.
Rylie was fine. Rylie was much more level-headed than Aspen. And she did not have any damn hyper-sensitive newly-pierced nipples amping her up and making her vulnerable to sexual domination from a young Chinese rich bitch.
That thought led to another one. The way Fang went after like she did. Right away. On the first day of six months. The way Fang had called out how horny Aspen was.
Fang had not seen Aspen’s pierced nipples and did not know about them.
Not that Aspen knew of.
But was it possible, just maybe, that Caihong and the twins were not as hostile to each other as they seemed? Was it possible that Caihong told Fang about Aspen’s newly pierced nipple vulnerability and about how Aspen must be turned on all the time? Had Caihong maybe told Fang that Caihong had nipple-milked Aspen just before the twins were introduced? Informed Fang of Aspen’s aroused state?
No, Caihong had called the twins in right in front of Aspen and Rylie and right after the nipple-milking or testing or whatever the hell that was. Caihong never had a chance to tell Fang.
But… the twins might have watched it on a camera view, assuming that room also had a camera, like all the rooms seemed to have.
As Aspen considered it all, she saw that it was suspicious that Caihong aroused Aspen to the brink of orgasm and then almost immediately after that handed Aspen off to a twin who took advantage of Aspen’s highly aroused state.
It was Caihong who made Aspen get the piercings and it was Caihong who brought her to a piercer who purposely made Aspen’s nipples hypersensitive. And then it was also Caihong who used Aspen’s nipples to arouse her just before the handoff to Fang.
Aspen had suspicions!
And then Fang returned to the doll room. In person this time instead of a crackly voice over a walkie-talkie.
Aspen felt her throat tighten and her heart race. Fang’s appearance made her extremely nervous. She had no idea what Fang might do. Or, based on the earlier incident, how she herself might react.
Fang didn’t even look at her! Not at first. She visited several dolls, moving from one to the next after adjusting their heads, or their arms, or rearranging their hair.
Aspen sat and stared. And waited.
This was… this was… more humiliation! That’s what it was! Fang was damn well ignoring Aspen on purpose!
She was treating Aspen like she was just another doll. One of many.
Aspen watched and waited and sat there. Because she thought it might be even more embarrassing if she spoke and Fang continued to ignore her.
After five minutes of Fang conducting in-detail doll inspections doll by doll, she had casually worked her way to within a few feet of Aspen.
Aspen had that “I’m next” feeling. She felt some kind of eagerness for Fang’s attention. That didn’t feel right, but there it was.
And then… Fang skipped over her! She went right past Aspen and adjusted a nearly life-size doll. The tilt of its head, how much its mouth was open, and its clothing.
More humiliation! Fang wasn’t only treating Aspen like a doll, an inanimate object who could be ignored at will and at length. She was treating Aspen like a lesser doll, not as interesting as the other dolls, one who attracted little if any attention from Fang.
Aspen felt humiliated and a little hurt. Wasn’t she fun to play with? Hadn’t Aspen done the naughty thing Fang wanted her to do? Rubbed one out for her on video while dressed like a doll?
What did Aspen need to do to keep this spoiled adult brat’s attention?
Aspen had to ask herself why she wanted the spoiled adult brat’s attention. She had no answer.
Fang turned back to her. Stepped over. Combed back Aspen’s hair with her fingers.
Treated her like a doll!
Then Fang play-acted – Aspen hoped it was acting – as if she’d suddenly realized Aspen was a living person, “Oh, wait, this one is the one that breathes. What was its name again? That’s right, I remember now, this doll is called Flame Hair Freckle Face.”
Feeling stupid and humiliated, Aspen wondered if she was supposed to say something.
Fang stepped back, “Come with me. Let’s eat. Grandmother texted there will be no formal dinner this first day. We are on our own.”
So that’s what they did. They ate. Fang had her own kitchen and dining area.
Fang produced plates of food and they ate the same food. At first, things seemed equal or like Fang treated Aspen like a guest. But that did not last.
Aspen was starving. It seemed that a huge orgasm took a lot of a girl. She scarfed up the food like she’d been stuck on a desert island for a week.
About halfway through the meal, Fang finished her can of soda, burped, and told Aspen, “Fetch another soda for your Mistress.”
Aspen froze with a forkful of food halfway to her mouth.
This “Mistress” thing….
It was really quite disconcerting. She felt her face redden. Fang had called herself Mistress over the walkie. That word was now connected to what Aspen did in the doll room. How she’d showed off her pussy and made herself orgasm.
What Fang had said before Aspen orgasmed, the words that had driven Aspen that tiny extra distance she’d needed to orgasm, lived on in Aspen’s head.
She could still hear Fang’s commanding demand, “Cum for me, American slut! Cum for your superior Chinese Mistress! When you cum for me you become mine!”
An order. An insult. A claim that Fang was superior and that she was Aspen’s “Mistress.” A statement that the act of orgasming would change Aspen’s status.
Aspen set her forkful of food down on her plate.
Was any of what Fang said true?
Maybe the insult was accurate. Aspen was American. She did feel slutty. But not too slutty. There were limits on sluttiness. Fang was one person. There was no actual sex. Technically, those two elements vastly limited the amount of possible sluttiness. But Aspen did feel slutty.
Slutty for what she did. Slutty for how it made her feel.
Slutty for how she felt right then. She was still aroused. Her nipples were hard again, her pulse thumping through them.
The rest of what Fang had said wasn’t true. It better not be! Fang was not superior to Aspen. She was inferior! She was younger, she was spoiled. So what if she was rich? Money did not make a person superior.
Fang was not her “Mistress.”
Because… because… Aspen had not cum for her! She’d cum because she super needed to cum. That was why. Not because of Fang.
A wild thread of thought snaked through Aspen’s mind, “If this spoiled bitch wants to be my Mistress, she’s going to have to do a lot more than boss me around and tell me to give myself an orgasm. She’s going to have to earn it! She’ll have to get off her ass and give me an orgasm. Directly. Herself.”
Aspen blinked rapidly like she was trying to get that thought out of her head by getting it out of her eyes.
Fang watched her with dark eyes that seemed far too observant, “Does your Mistress need to repeat herself?”
No, Aspen guessed Fang did not. She knew what Fang wanted. Another soda. It wasn’t worth fighting over. Don’t tip the apple cart and all that. The real problem wasn’t getting Fang a soda. Who cared? Aspen wasn’t lazy and she was normally happy to get someone something. If they needed help or were a guest.
The real problem was this whole “Mistress” thing. Not cool.
But also not something Aspen was ready to go to battle over. It was just a word though that word, every time Aspen heard it, made her feel funny. It was almost a physical sensation. Like her tummy sank down to her pussy.
Why would she react that way? What did it mean?
It could not mean anything good!
Aspen stood up and went and got another soda for Fang from the full-size deluxe refrigerator in the kitchen area. Aspen asked what kind and Fang told her. It was a brightly colored Chinese import.
After that, the meal had a few more small humiliations. Fang told Aspen to “fetch” for Aspen’s “Mistress” a napkin. And then a fresh fork. And then to clean up a spill of soda which Aspen swore was an intentional spill by Fang.
Aspen knew Fang did it on purpose to humiliate her. Or maybe to put her in her place, to make Aspen feel lower than her.
It was working. Aspen did feel humiliated. Aspen did feel low. She felt like a servant. Fang bossed her around and Aspen felt like she had to obey.
Fang kept up the “Mistress” thing. It grated on Aspen’s nerves.
Actually, it felt like it grated on Aspen somewhere else or on a specific location of nerves. It was so bothersome how hot and bothered Aspen felt. In general, but it was so much worse because nothing made her feel hotter and more bothered than those moments when Fang called herself Aspen’s Mistress, always accompanied by yet another little order Aspen had to obey.
Aspen thought the heat and ticklish irritation she felt must be from anger. It had to be that. It couldn’t be from… something else.
It didn’t seem right. She and Rylie were hired to be companions to the twins but Fang treated Aspen like Aspen was a servant.
A servant, right? Servants worked for their “Mistress.” That was what Fang meant by “Mistress,” right?
It didn’t seem like it. Not when Fang first used the term when Aspen was at her most vulnerable and sluttiest.
Yeah, Aspen decided she’d need to fix this Mistress thing and make it go away. Somehow, but she wasn’t sure how. She didn’t think Fang would like hearing she was not Aspen’s Mistress and she didn’t think Fang was open to admitting she was mistaken in anything.
Fang was in her own world. She still played with dolls!
Aspen decided she’d have to put up with it for the time being. Fang could call herself Mistress as much as she wanted. There was no way to stop her. It wouldn’t mean anything about Aspen. It only meant something about Fang. How out of touch with reality she was.
So, Aspen would put up with it. Which meant she also had to put up with the effect that word, used that way by Fang, had on her. Every time Fang said it, the word sounded twice as loud as her other words.
They finished their meal and Fang sat back in her chair.
“Flame Hair Freckle Face, do you like how your Mistress dressed you?’
That damn word!
“To be honest, no, not really. At all.”
Fang grinned her toothy grin, “Well then! You will soon be happy!”
What did that mean?
Fang stood up and walked away while calling back, “Heel, companion. Follow your Mistress. You may do it on two legs for the time being.”
What… the fuck!?! On two legs “for the time being!?!” More like for the time forever! Bitch! Did Fang think she’d get Aspen to, what, crawl at some point?
Or maybe she meant to get Aspen to hop on one leg? Aspen could not be sure of what Fang intended but she was sure she wouldn’t do either one of those things. No crawling. No hopping. Fuck that!
Hopefully Fang was only joking.
Aspen followed her. To the bedroom.
Fang said, “I’ve decided we’ll go to bed early tonight. Happy news! Fang always sleeps in the nude. It is the best way. Fang’s new companion will also sleep in the nude. You must follow the superior Chinese example. It is the duty of a companion. I’m sure you will be so happy to take off those clothes you do not appreciate.”
Uh, no. Aspen did not like this.
Sleeping in the same bed as another adult, one she just met, already had seemed almost sexual. But doing it while they were both naked was for sure sexual!
Fang was taking off all her clothes.
What to do, what to do, what to do…!?!
If in doubt, delay!
“Fang, you see, uh, I’m not tired. I’m not ready to go to sleep yet.”
Already all too nude, Fang stood before her, standing straight and shameless, wearing only a big fanged grin. “I said we’re going to bed. I didn’t say anything about sleeping.”
