Lesbian Punishment For Submissive

Pussy and Tom were dozing. Pussy could feel Tom's stiffness pressing against her arse. Drowsily she pushed back at him but he only murmured, not yet ready to give up his sleep.

Their reverie was interrupted by the doorbell. It was sure to be the postman. Pussy liked the postman, he had muscley legs from all that cycling and in the summer wore shorts that showed them off to good effect. The postman had in the past seen Pussy naked through the living room window. Pussy always got a thrill out of displaying herself, though the postman's glimpse had not been intentional.

This morning Pussy was feeling daring. She didn't wrap herself in her dressing gown. Last night she had been playing innocent bridal virgins with Tom and the cunt length see-through nightie still lay crumpled on the floor beside the bed. She slipped it over her head and went downstairs.

She opened the front door. But it wasn't the postman, it was a postwoman. The postwoman looked surprised, even amused and smiled broadly at Pussy.

"Sorry to get you out of bed," she said. "Would you sign here please?" She proffered a little booklet for Pussy to sign.

Pussy leant forwards resting the booklet on her knee: "Where do I sign?" she asked, looking up at the postwoman. As she looked up she caught the postwoman's eyes diverting quickly away from her breasts.

"Second one down. If you could sign and date it?" the postwoman said, a little embarrassed.

Pussy looked the postwoman in the eye and smiled. She leant forwards again to sign, but this time slowly, making sure the postwoman would be able to look down her nightie and see her breasts. Pussy took her time signing, then handed the little booklet back. As she did she met the postwoman's eyes. Then Pussy lowered her gaze to the postwoman's breasts. The postwoman must have been around thirty. She wore a light blue shirt, wet under the armpits from cycling on such a hot morning. Her breasts were large, larger than Pussy's, her nipples were standing proud. Pussy lowered her gaze further. Pussy could see the slight bulge of the postwoman's sex either side of the seam of her shorts. Pussy looked up again. For a moment the postwoman stood frozen, mesmerised by Pussy's blatant look over, like a rabbit caught in Pussy's headlights. But she quickly snapped out of it and said: "Oh, your parcel, I nearly forgot!" She gave a little laugh and handed the parcel to Pussy.

"Who's that?" It was Tom calling from upstairs.

"Postman," Pussy called back. "Well, postwoman actually..." She smiled at the postwoman, opening her mouth slightly and momentarily touched her top lip with the tip of her tongue.

The postwoman smiled back but said: "Well, must be getting along."

"What did he want?" It was Tom again.

Pussy shrugged. The postwoman turned and walked away. Pussy admired her firm arse as she walked down the path. As the postwoman mounted her bike Pussy called: "Come back when you've finished your round." She hadn't intended to say that, the words just came out of their own accord. But the postwoman only smiled and shook her head as she rode off.

Pussy went back to bed, strangely excited by the postwoman's obvious interest in her body. Pussy had never had sex with a woman but was curious - what would it be like? But these thoughts were lost as Pussy found Tom now wide awake and ravenous for her body.

Later, and well satisfied, Tom went out to meet the boys before the rugby match. Pussy lazed in the bath for a while, then donned jeans and tee shirt. She was making herself some lunch when the doorbell rang.

It was the postwoman. She looked hot and sweaty and uncertain.

"Er, you did say if I wanted to come back?"


Pussy was very surprised to see her. But having spent the morning shagging she wasn't feeling particularly playful.

"Come in," Pussy said, without much enthusiasm.

"Oh sorry, perhaps I shouldn't have come back," the postmistress said, sensing Pussy's mood.

"No, come in," Pussy said, a little brusquely. "You look hot."

"Yes, it's boiling out there. Look, I'm sorry, I really shouldn't have come back, I don't know what came over me."

"Oh well, come in and have a drink anyway. Orange juice?" Pussy said.

"Well, all right then, yes, that would be lovely, thank you."

Pussy showed the postwoman into the kitchen and poured them both a long cold drink. The postmistress was a lot shorter than Pussy and somehow she looked younger now - perhaps because she looked less official sitting there at Pussy's kitchen table drinking her orange juice. And there was something about her, a certain submissiveness, that sent a feeling of power suddenly coursing through Pussy's body.

"I hope I didn't startle you this morning," Pussy said, "opening the door dressed like that."

"No, I just came back to apologise for staring, really."

Pussy laughed. "Did you?"

The postwoman blushed. "Well no, not really." They both laughed.

The postwoman drank up quickly and said: "I must be going, thanks for the drink."

"Hey," Pussy said. "What about that apology?"

"Oh yes: I'm sorry," the postmistress said, smiling broadly.

"Huh, that's not much of an apology, is it?" Pussy said sharply.

The postwoman looked a little taken aback.

"Would you like to apologise properly?" Pussy said.

"Mmm?" The postwoman noticed the look in Pussy's eye and fell silent.

Pussy looked hard at her. The postwoman looked down, avoiding Pussy's gaze. Pussy crossed to the postwoman, cupped her chin, lifting her head up, forcing her to look Pussy in the eye.

"I said," Pussy said slowly, a little menace in her voice, "Would you like to apologise properly?"

There was a long pause as they looked at each other.

"Yes," was all the postwoman said, but there was such meaning in that one little word.

"On your knees," Pussy said, stepping back.

There was a moment of hesitation, then the postwoman slid from her chair and knelt on the floor.

"Now," Pussy said. "Say 'Sorry Pussy for looking at your breasts'."

The postwoman looked up: "Pussy?" she said, "Is that your name?"

But before she could finish the sentence Pussy slapped her, gently, across the face.

The postwoman drew in her breath, not in pain, just in surprise.

"Do not look at me," Pussy said.

"Look, I don't think..." the postwoman started.

But Pussy slapped her face again. "Will you stop fucking talking!" Pussy said. And not waiting for a reaction she grabbed the postwoman's hair with both hands and said: "Say 'Sorry Pussy for looking at your tits when I came to your door this morning'." And she shook the postwoman's head as she spoke each word.

Pussy let go and looked down at the postwoman kneeling there silently. The postwoman did not move.

"And how dare you come into my house smelling of sweat," Pussy continued. "Now, are you going to apologise or not?"

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Lesbian punishment for submissive postmistress who stares at customer's tits.