A Promise Kept

Mariah Burste considered herself the luckiest woman in the world.

Not only did she have the hottest wife in the world, but she also had the hottest friends, in the form of the devilish Darya and the fulsome Femke. While she’d only known the two women in a short amount of time, the four of them had done more living in a month than most women got to experience in a lifetime. Every time she thought of the music they’d made in that private room, she had a little shiver, knowing the magic wouldn’t, couldn’t, be created ever again. It was a special event, like watching some exploding star in the sky, beautiful and brilliant.

She was blessed. Truly blessed. And now that she and Darya had set up this amazing match for their wives, she’d be blessed again.

She’d say it was mostly Darya’s idea, though she would likely say just the opposite. Either way, it worked - a chance for Femke and Bubbles to fight unimpeded, to throw their bodies at each other and clash until a true victor emerged. No draws, no half-finishes, no excuses. Only one winner would be coming back to shore.

This would be a treat, and the only thing better than watching it would be watching it with a friend. That was what Mariah intended to do today, as she showed up at Darya and Femke’s apartment. Sex was always a strong possibility with anything involving Darya, so she dressed appropriately, sporting a pair of Daisy Dukes that hung tight to her hips and a white crisscross croptop that hung even tighter to her chest. With a straw hat to keep the sun out of her eyes and a sandals to show off her dainty feet, it made for a cute image. One she hoped her friend would appreciate.

Humming all the way, came sauntering up to Darya’s door and gave it a good knocking, shouldering her purse as she did. She snapped her fingers and sighed, thinking that she probably should’ve brought snakes and not just assumed that Darya would have something to eat. Oh well, could always go back out later...

This would be no normal viewing party. Darya would make sure of that.

Mariah had dressed to kill, radiating sexuality with that timeless sweetheart-on-vacation look, daisy dukes barely covering her ass cheeks, crop top showing off as much skin as she was probably legally allowed to show in a public space. Darya watched her friend walking up the front steps from the big front window, her own form hidden from Mariah's view behind a thick blackout curtain.

When Mariah knocked on the door of the seaside condo, it would only take Darya a couple of seconds to respond. She opened the door up, giving Mariah a nice, long look at what she had chosen to wear for this little get-together.

Sleek black nylon stockings emerging from black leather boots, held up by a matching black garter belt.

A high-waisted black thong (with a zipper right down the crotch) and a skimpy bra to match, both made out of black latex, with a pair of black leather gloves to complete the whole ensemble. In her hands she held a riding crop, which she would swing around a few times as she gave Mariah plenty of time to enjoy the surprise appearance of the stunning dark-haired dominatrix.

"My, my," Darya purred. "It looks like ze slut I ordered has arrived." She would swing the riding crop down on top of Mariah's chest, letting it bite into her exposed cleavage, before she reached forward with her other hand to grab onto the front of Mariah's daisy dukes, dragging her inside.

"Hurry, sveet Mariah," Darya would sigh into her friend's ear. "It is almost time."

The moment Darya opened the door, Mariah’s eyes widened in shock, as the realization struck her - this day was not at all going to go quite like she’d expected it to.

And that was not at all a bad thing.

The woman before her radiated sexuality like an overheating furnace. While they’d both played the role of the dominatrix in the past and Mariah had more than her fair share of similar outfits in her own closet, she had to concede that her counterpart wore the role better than she could’ve ever hoped. The latex almost seemed like it was a part of her, a second skin, and her boots and demeanor made her into a towering figure. For a moment, Mariah could’ve sworn the Russian was even taller than Bubbles.

Imposing? Intimidating? Those words didn’t seem to cut it. She was raw, savage sensuality, and Mariah was awestruck, a state that she was only knocked out of when the riding crop struck her chest and was pulled forward, yanked into the room like an unruly child. Darya’s lips came to her ears, sultry and demanding, and the reality of what was going on finally managed to make its way through to Mariah’s brain, slipping through the heaps of confusion.

This was it. This was the moment they’d talked about, when Darya promised to take her by surprise and claim her, to break her. Thing she’d fantasized was becoming a reality, and on this day of all days…

She shuddered and went along, providing only the faintest resistance. When Darya whispered into her ear, she moaned and lowered her head in submission, eager to please this woman’s whims. ”Yes, mistress.”

Darya had everything that might be expected for a standard watch party: a widescreen television already tuned into the live feed from the boat, allowing the two wrestlers' wives to be the only people in the world who would witness what happened between their battling lovers in real time. She had laid out a charcuterie board in case they got hungry, full of smoked and cured meats, rare European cheeses, and fruit products ranging from humble apples and dried cranberries to pomegranate seeds and yuzu jelly.

All that, of course, was set up downstairs, where the lack of windows gave it a distinctly dungeon-like aura. She also had a rather extensive collection of sex toys on full display, lovingly placed on shelves and tables throughout the whole condo, dominating the decor. Larger pieces of sexual furniture were present throughout the home, as well, as were additional screens synced to the same live feed.

Darya was ready to have fun. She and Mariah typically traded off dominance, and she fully expected that, sometime in the near future, Mariah would be returning this favor, perhaps kidnapping her, binding and gagging her in the middle of the night, fucking her until she cried and begged. Tonight, though—tonight it was Mariah's turn.

Darya dragged Mariah down into that dungeon, the shadowy, sexy shapes along the walls illuminated only by the bright blue light from the television. She would shove Mariah roughly down onto her knees on the padded floor, facing the screen, before producing a ball gag that would quickly be shoved into the American woman's mouth and fastened behind her head. "Zis represents your eternal submission to me," Darya would growl, taking off the woman's straw hat and tousling her light brown hair.

This had only just begun and Mariah was unspeakable horny - the simple sight of Darya in that alone was enough to achieve that effect, but her smoldering glare and iron words heightened the experience. There was no argument - she was tugged along and Mariah came willingly, thrusting her hips at the hand that was tugging her along, eager for any and all contact. She wanted to see what this woman had in store, what was about to happen, and every tantalizing moment made the wait that much harder.

She was also gathering ideas for what to do when the day came for her to take these reigns herself, but she kept those thoughts on the backburner for a moment. So many things to focus on, already.

Head lowered, breath heavy, she was so swept up in the moment that she almost didn’t notice the apartment itself, only taking in the decor was as they descended into the darkness. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, but when they did, she found herself loving what they saw. To no real surprise, Darya’s playroom wasn’t unsimilar from Mariah’s - well-kept and stock, dark and clean, with a wide array of sexual accouterments placed about. There were a few items that Darya had that she’d never seen before, and vice-versa was true. When this was over, some swapping and shopping tips would be in order.

She was just about to complement Darya on the decor, when she was brought down hard to her knees. A ball gag came towards her mouth and she opened wide to accept, letting it slip into place. Nice, soft, but solid, definitely one of the higher quality ones, a fact that Mariah appreciated. She showed that appreciation by nuzzling against Darya’s stomach as her hair was petted, loving the attention from her ravishing Russian mistress, craving every single contact she could get.

This was going to be a good day.

Mariah thrusted her hips, and Darya felt the woman's warm crotch press against the tips of her fingers while they were tucked into the waist of her light-haired friend's tight daisy dukes. It was a small act that made Mariah's role as the submissive for the time being all the more exciting—she was not just a passive object for Darya to play with, but a participant who would struggle or submit based on her own whims, making the night not quite so predictable as one might expect for the Russian dominatrix.

Right now, though, during the initial proceedings, she would not be tolerating any disobedience from her cute brunette visitor. She brought the ball gag forward, shoving it into Mariah's mouth, letting it fill up her lips completely even while they were opened to their widest. No way to move it to the side with the tongue, no way to get around the all-important gagging feature of the ball gag. Mariah seemed to approve, as she nuzzled up against Darya's bare stomach like a little kitty cat. Darya smiled.

And then Darya would bring that riding crop down again, just hard enough to sting, on Mariah's back. "Bad slut!" she chastised. "You must beg before you get to do zat! Now...down on all fours. I vill inspect you."

Something about the Russian accent made the entire scene all the better, made Darya seem more threatening. While they were equals in many ways, it was an area that Mariah could never really hope to duplicate, could never match with her thick, Californian accent. That heavy, sharp brusque tone, those penetrating eyes, that smoldering stare? Mariah couldn’t help but be obedient to. Couldn’t help but rub up against her mistress.

And she paid for it. Naturally.

Mariah let out a muffled cry in the ball gag as the crop came down, biting her backside. She was curious if it would leave any marks, and she was tempted to suggest Darya record this, something she’d sadly forgotten to do with their previous get together - but that was an option at the moment. For now, there was only compliance.

Down she went on, all fours, quick and obedient. She kept her head low, staring at the floor, but couldn’t resist giving Darya a little wiggle of the hips - a small gesture, one that would either incur favor or wrath. Either way, it was a win.

Mariah's eagerness got her punished, and she cried out into the ballgag, the robust piece of rubber sopping up almost all of the sound. Mariah complied with Darya's instructions quickly, like the well-trained little pet she obviously was, falling right down onto her hands and knees, waiting for the Russian to inspect her property.

Darya kept the tongue of the riding crop on Mariah, sliding it across her back as she began to walk slowly around the lighter-haired woman. Her black stiletto heels, which added a predatory flair to the leather boots they were attached to, clicked sharply on the floor as she circled her submissive friend. Mariah wiggled her hips right as the tongue of the crop would reach Mariah's ass, sliding over one plump cheek, then down between them. Darya briefly pondered how to respond to that small, excited motion.

The crop would find Mariah's sex between her legs, and Darya would let the paddle-like end wiggle against those pussy lips to get Mariah fired up. "Good girl," she would say, in a calm, but still assertive, tone.

Then, she would lift the crop up, and swing it down on Mariah's butt cheeks, sending them both jiggling wildly as a red line appeared across them, intersecting her ass crack! "Very good girl. Zis is your reward, yes? You like it?" she would ask, drawing that strong connection between pain and pleasure already—one that would define the night. Meanwhile, on the screen in front of them, the crew of the yacht were abandoning the vessel, with the captain going last. Right now, the feed was cutting between two closed doors—doors which Darya knew were about to open and unleash their wives upon each other.

Mariah didn't know how well-versed Darya was at this sort of thing - granted, this was clearly a setup that she hadn’t built on a whim, but there was no way of knowing how long it had been here or how often it got any real use. She and Bubbles had their own toys, yes, but it wasn’t like she used them all the time. Depended on the mood, really - her wife tended to let her submissive side show after she won a hard match, for instance, and it was a good way to scratch any itches she’d built up.

But it didn’t matter much, either way - she was either experienced or a natural, and she knew how to make it work.

Mariah’s body quivered as the crop slid along her body, teasing every nerve it passed over, and she gasped as it came to her sex - or tried to, as best she could with the gag muffling her. Her back arched without even thinking and her hips wiggled, hoping the sight would please her mistress.

It seemed like it did, too - though that hardly meant she would escape pain. Mariah let out a moaning shriek as the crop stung her cheeks, biting at the flesh, and she thrust her backside in preparation for the next blow - which, of course, wasn’t long in the coming. It was all so thrilling, such a rush, that she nearly missed the sight of her wife bursting out on the screen, already in frantic pursuit of Femke.

God, they couldn’t even imagine what was going on here, could they? It had to be the furthest thing from their minds.

Today was going to be a good day.

With words no longer an option for Mariah, it was all about body language, and the American was quite expressive with that strong, buxom frame. She wiggled her hips and arched her back, let her whole body tense up, then relax, letting those plump buttocks and hanging breasts jiggle. Every tiny twitch spoke volumes to Darya. Mariah's butt pushed upward, eagerly anticipating another lash, and Darya gladly complied.

As the submissive, Mariah was theoretically at Darya's mercy. But both of them were experienced enough with these sorts of encounters to know that wasn't entirely true. The sub reserved certain powers for herself while handing over superficial control to the dom. When Mariah's body begged for a stroke of the whip, Darya would give it to her. She swung the riding crop down on that ass a third time, leaving another red line across that magnificent rump! Then, she would let it slide up Mariah's spine, trying to make goosebumps stand up on her skin. She lifted the crop, then began to bring it down—only to slow it down and gently tap Mariah's back, just to tease her and heighten the anticipation.

On the television screen, the doors opened, and Darya watched their wives come roaring out of those private cabins, stomping towards the bow of the ship, trying to find each other. Darya smiled, imagining what Femke must be feeling right now. The passion. The lust. The intense, burning need to prove herself superior...

Darya wanted to sit back, relax, and drink in every second of delicious combat. But at the same time, she wanted to make Mariah squeal, to break her down and mold her into the perfect submissive little doll.

Luckily, Darya was a talented multitasker.