Her brute master


    "I'll miss you," I said, "but you'll be back in September."

    "I'll miss you, too," Brad responded, "nobody can satisfy me the way you do." He leaned over me and started kissing my breasts again, concentrating on my nipples, trying to make them hard.

    "Oh, Brad, I'm tired," I lied. I wasn't really tired, I was just getting a little bored with his love-making.

    Dinner, a movie, and a night together in bed had become our routine week-end activity. When I first met Brad, he had excited me. He had a strong, take-charge attitude that I liked a lot. He didn't ask me to go out with him as much as he had told me he was taking me out.

    At the end of our first date, when he kissed me good-night on the steps of my dormitory, I had resisted him, just for form's sake, really. But he wouldn't be resisted. He held my body next to his and kissed me firmly on the mouth, using his tongue in ways I had never felt before. After all, I was only a freshman and not very experienced, sexually.

    Then, on our second date, he took me back to his fraternity house and made love to me. He didn't ask me, he just did it. He took my clothes off of my body as if he owned them, and me. He smiled appreciatively when he saw my thirty-eight inch, D-cup breasts. He kept on smiling when he pulled off my panties and saw that I was a natural blonde. He ran his fingers through the silky soft hairs covering my nearly-virgin pussy and I watched his pants develop that tell-tale bulge that tells a girl when she's about to get fucked.

    I've always been proud of my body and it gave me a girlish thrill to see how it could excite a man. My slender waist and hips have been as much fun to flaunt as my nicely shaped boobies and Brad's unmistakable excitement was confirmation that I was developing from a pretty girl into a beautiful woman.

    We made love for hours that first night together, Brad trying new ways to excite and satisfy both me and himself. I didn't object to anything he did, or asked me to do. His strong, well-muscled body was one that I had always hoped my lover would have. He took complete charge of me that night and I thought that I had found the one man that was right for me.

    I soon discovered I was wrong, though. Soon Brad began becoming solicitous toward me. If I was in a bad mood, or not feeling well, he'd want to do things for me, he would act weak and start asking my permission to make love. I couldn't tell him how much that turned me off. Seeing him acting unsure of himself, as if I could grant or deny him what he wanted, made me dislike, no, despise him.

    But I couldn't say anything to him about it. I've never been able to talk to men that way, not as an equal. It just has never seemed right to me. Most women, too, at least those who are older or prettier than me, always have power over me. It has always seemed that I should defer to their wishes, that I should follow their orders rather than trying to assert myself.

    That's how I've always felt, but I've never done anything about it. I've always just waited for the universe to create itself around me and hoped that it would be the way I like it, but never feeling as though I had the power to do anything about it. Little did I know that this was ail about to change.

    This was going to be our last night together for at least three months. The last test of our freshman year at UCLA was completed and Brad was ready to leave for his summer job as a steward on board a cruise ship. I envied him a little bit. I liked the idea of taking a cruise to Central America, through the Panama Canal and then up to Florida and back again. I could work on my tan and get paid for the vacation, only having to work half days.

    Besides, there was something appealing about working as a servant, something about being given orders and not having to make decisions that appealed to me.


    "Maybe this will wake you up," he said, moving down from my breasts. His tongue trailed down my firm, smooth abdomen, playing momentarily at my navel, and then plunged on, further down to the center of my sex-self.

    He breathed on my pussy, letting his warm, moist breath tickle and excite me. Then he ran his tongue up and down my slit, gently at first, trying to arouse, rather than satisfy me.

    I raised my knees and opened my thighs, giving him better access to my love-box. His tongue worked its way into my slit and began teasing the inside of my vagina. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the sensations Brad was giving me, willing myself to get more excited, wanting to come for him.

    Thankfully, Brad turned his body around on the bed and climbed over me, presenting me with his dick to suck while he kept on eating me.

    Gratefully, I opened my mouth and guided his cock into it. It felt so much better having him over me, like this, covering my body with his, pinning my head to the bed with his prick. Finally, I was able to relax and enjoy the sensations Brad was giving me with his tongue.

    I let the warm, moist feelings build and grow in my stomach. I felt them pulse and expand, getting hotter and wetter, getting closer and closer to orgasm.

    Brad's cock filled my mouth and pressed against the back of my throat. He pumped his hips up and down, fucking me in the mouth while he ate my pussy. This was the kind of thing I liked him to do to me, just take charge and use me for his pleasure. He did it far too infrequently of late. I was glad he was leaving for the summer. As much as I envied him his job, I was relieved that I wouldn't be seeing him for three months. Maybe, by the time he got back, he'd have found a new girl-friend, or would just be tired of me.

    Meanwhile, I was glad that our last night of love-making would at least be satisfying for me. I sucked hard on his dick, feeling it expand and harden even more. I liked the musky, sweet taste of it. I liked this position especially. I liked the feel of his balls rubbing against my nose when he pressed his dick down in my throat, almost choking me with it. I put my hands on his hips so I could guide his thrusts into my mouth.

    Avidly, Brad licked and sucked at my pussy. His tongue became increasingly active as he neared his own orgasm. He buried his face in my snatch and forced his tongue as far up my pussy as he could reach. I raised my legs and tilted my hips up to meet his tongue. Brad wrapped his arms around my thighs so he could hold and squeeze my buttocks while he ate me. His rhythmical licking and kneading brought me closer and closer to coming.

    With one hand I reached around and took a hold of his scrotum. It was firm and tight. I wanted him to come soon. I felt my own orgasm building and I knew if I could make him come with me I might be able to really get off. I gently rubbed his balls, massaging them in their sack, feeling them move under my fingers.

    Brad stopped pumping his hips. He became tense, rigid. He held his dick deep in my mouth and slowly, with tiny little jerks, pushed it deeper and deeper in. At the same time, he moved his mouth up my slit until he was sucking on my clitoris.

    I was so grateful to him for finding that spot that I didn't mind that I could hardly breathe.

    He slipped first one, then two fingers into my pussy and massaged the walls of my vagina while his tongue licked and sucked my clit.

    I pressed and rubbed his balls harder, willing him to come now, when I was almost ready myself.

    Finally, Brad's cock expanded even more. I felt the head throb and pulse against the back of my throat until, beautifully, wonderfully, sweetly, his come filled my mouth. I held him still and tried to swallow all that I could.

    His sweet, musky fluid, so rich and thick, so much of it, was like a key to unlock my own floodgates of pleasure. Gratefully, I relaxed and let my orgasm flow down my loins and out my pussy. Wave after wave of warm, wet pleasure crashed over me, washing me clean, making me happy and almost satisfied, content to receive his flowing jissom into my mouth and down my throat.

    Brad relaxed above me, releasing the last of his come into my mouth, before climbing off and turning around, finally lying beside me to drop off to sleep. I tried not to move too much, I wanted him to sleep soundly, but even though I had managed to have an orgasm, I wasn't completely satisfied. I still felt a stirring, burning sensation in my loins, a wave that wanted to break, a volcano waiting to erupt, why was I destined to be unfulfilled, I wondered. What was wrong with me that I couldn't be satisfied like other women?

    Trying not to make any noise or move any more than was absolutely necessary, I reached my hand down and fingered my clit until I came again, and again. I stayed up half the night masturbating myself, striving for but never quite achieving complete satisfaction. I looked over at Brad's sleeping body. I imagined him standing over me, dominating me, controlling me. My finger moved faster and faster, my orgasms came hot and heavy. Why couldn't my real life compare to my fantasy life? I asked myself. Why does life have to be so unfair, so hard?

    I cried myself silently to sleep, my hand on my pussy, wishing for satisfaction.


    Monday June fifteenth was the start of a new era in my life. I kissed Brad good-bye while I was still in bed, he had to catch an early flight to San Francisco, and went back to sleep. When I finally got up at ten thirty I felt refreshed and alive, better than I had felt in weeks. I think it was just because I was starting a new phase in my life.

    I was in UCLA on scholarship. It was my first time away from home and this summer, since I didn't have to attend classes full time, I could explore the city and get a job and just be an adult in one of the biggest, most exciting cities in the world. The prospect thrilled and excited me.

    I got up and took a shower. The warm water felt good and tingly as it poured down over my breasts, I soaped and rinsed myself, slowly, enjoying the sensations. I got out and toweled myself off, looking in the mirror. I liked watching my breasts move and jiggle as I rubbed the towel over my body. The nipples were hard and crinkly, pink and sensitive.

    I dressed in a conservative summer outfit, with a loose, full skirt and comfortable cotton blouse. I applied a little light make-up and brushed out my long, blonde hair. This was going to be a new and exciting experience for me. I was on my own for the first time and looking forward to whatever the world might have in store.

    My plan was to take one class over the summer quarter, thereby continuing my eligibility to collect scholarship money and qualify for living in the dormitory. My dormitory room cost about half of what I would have to pay for a similar apartment off campus. But since I'd only be taking one class I wouldn't get enough scholarship money to cover all my living expenses. I figured I could get a part-time job to bring in the rest of the money I'd need, and since I'd only be taking one class I'd have enough time to myself to enjoy my summer and almost have a real vacation.

    I left the dormitory and walked down to the croissant shop in Westwood Village. On the way I picked up a newspaper from a vending machine on the corner. Once there I ordered coffee and opened the paper to the classified ads. Nothing looked as interesting as I had hoped until I came to this one: PART-TIME HOUSEKEEPER No experience necessary.

    Ality to follow orders a must!

    Flexible hours, live-in possible.

    Pay commensurate with ability. (213) 555-3825 "Ability to follow orders a must!" That phrase made my thighs tingle and gave me the sensation of having butterflies in my stomach. I went to the pay-phone at the back of the shop and dialed the number. A man's voice answered.

    "3825," he said, non-committally.

    "Hello," I stammered a little, feeling more nervous than the situation called for, "I'm calling in response to the ad for a part-time housekeeper."

    "Do you have any experience?"

    "No, but I'm a fast learner and I'm very thorough," I said.

    "Are you presently employed?"

    "No, I'm a student at UCLA. I'm taking a summer class and need to supplement my scholarship. I'm very good at taking orders."

    "I see. Can you come for an interview this morning?"

    "Yes, I can." I was getting excited by the possibility of finding a job that fit my schedule so quickly.

    He gave me directions to the house and I hung up. My palms were moist. The address was in Bel Air, just five minutes from UCLA. I ran back to the dorm and jumped in my car. The appointment was for eleven o'clock, I got there at ten forty-five. I rang the bell.

    "Yes?" The disembodied voice came from a small loudspeaker just over the door-bell button.

    "My name is Jodie Cramer. I have an eleven o'clock appointment for a job interview," I spoke into the speaker.

    "You're early," came the reply, then silence.

    "I'm sorry," I said, "I didn't want to be late."

    There was no response for a few moments, just the faint hum of electricity in the speaker. The sun was bright and birds were singing. The house looked airy and well kept. I wanted to make a good impression. I wanted to get the job, but I seemed to be getting off to a bad start.

    "Should I leave and come back at eleven?" I asked.

    "That will not be necessary. Come in." The door buzzed and I pushed it. It swung open easily. I stepped inside.

    The entry-way was large and bright, with marble floors and mirrored walls. Skylights and indoor plants contributed to the illusion of space. I closed the door behind me and waited.

    Minutes passed and nothing happened. Tentatively, I stepped further into the house, toward the massive curved staircase at the end of the hall. "Hello?" I called out.

    There was no response.

    "Hello," I called again, walking further into the house.

    "Is this how you follow instructions?" The voice came from behind me. I turned with a start. He had come from one of the doors that opened off the entry-way.

    He was a good looking man, not quite middle-aged with slightly graying dark hair and pale blue eyes.

    "Oh!" I was so startled I nearly dropped my purse. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you wanted me to wait."

    "Had I wanted you to do anything I would have told you so." He clasped His hands behind His back and walked slowly toward me, looking me up and down appraisingly.

    I felt myself starting to blush. "Please, I didn't understand."

    "Do not apologize, Miss, just try to relax." He walked slowly around me, examining me like a side of meat.

    I looked down at the floor. I could tell that He was the kind of man that likes to be in charge. He was using this technique to intimidate me, to establish His dominance over me. I realized all this about Him in just the few moments I had been in His presence. I realized all this and I liked it.

    I know this is not the way most modern, liberated women think or feel, but sometimes, most times, in fact, I don't feel liberated. I like to feel that someone else can tell me what's best for me, can look out for my best interests.

    So, I acted more unsure of myself than I really felt in order that He would feel superior to me and maybe want to hire me.

    "Come into my office," He said, finally.

    I followed Him through the door through which He had come. He had broad shoulders and a trim waist. He moved with a lithe grace and assurance that I could not help but admire. If this was His house He was fabulously wealthy and acted as though He deserved to be.

    "Have a seat Miss Cramer," He said, sitting down behind His desk.

    I sat down facing Him, sitting up straight, on the edge of the chair, not leaning back, looking as expectant as I could.

    "As I stated in my advertisement, Miss Cramer, an ability to follow instructions is more important to me than simply having experience."

    "Yes, I understand," I said.

    "And yet the first thing you have demonstrated to me is an inability, or perhaps merely an unwillingness to follow even the simplest instructions."

    "But I wanted to be prompt, to show you that I was eager to make a good impression."

    "Then you think I should give you the benefit of the doubt?"

    "Oh yes, please, I was trying to do the right thing, I just didn't understand."

    "And when you began wandering through my house, instead of simply waiting for me?"

    "I'm sorry, I was really out of line there." I twisted my fingers together nervously. "I was… confused… I thought… I didn't know what to think. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

    "But, Miss Cramer, can you really predict, with certainty, that you will never make a similar mistake?"

    "But, Mister… I'm sorry I don't know your name." He didn't say anything, He just smiled a little. "Sir, I can only assure you that I will try to do my very best for you."

    "And if you should fail?"

    "Then, I suppose, you would have to take measures to correct me." I looked down but caught a glimpse of Him through lowered lashes, His smile grew a little wider.

    "Miss Cramer, although we seem to have gotten off to an unfortunate start, I am inclined to be generous toward you. I would like to give you a chance to prove yourself. Would you like that?"

    "Oh, yes!" I gave Him my brightest smile. "I would like that very much. When would you like me to start?"

    "Miss Cramer," He laughed softly, "we have not discussed your salary, you do not even know my name. Perhaps you are a bit too trusting?"

    "Oh, no, Sir," I said. "Please don't think me forward or naive, but I make up my mind about people very quickly. I knew almost immediately that you were someone I could trust."

    "How did you know that?"

    "By the way you looked at me, and," I allowed myself to blush, "the way you corrected me so gently."

    "Well, I will try not to betray your trust," He said. "When can you start?"

    "I just completed my last quarter at UCLA and my summer session doesn't start for another three weeks, so I'm completely available right now."

    "Very good, come with me."


    I followed Him through the house to the maid's quarters. It was the largest, most luxurious house I had ever been in. The furnishings were modest, modern, and understated, giving the impression of subdued elegance.

    The maid's quarters consisted of a suite of three rooms, a bedroom, a bathroom and a sitting, or living room. In the bedroom closet was an assortment of maid's uniforms.

    "Find a uniform that fits," He told me, "and come back downstairs to my office." Then He left me alone.

    I stripped down to my bra, panties, and pantyhose. The first uniform I tried on was much too big. I put it back on its hanger and selected another. This one was far too small. Feeling like Goldilocks I hung that one back up and picked out a third. This one seemed to fit fairly well. I looked at myself in the full-length mirror on the closet door. The image presented was not unsatisfactory to me.

    The uniform was of the sexy French maid variety. It was made of black silk and had a very short skirt and an equally low-cut top. It fit my torso tightly. I looked like I had been poured into it, but the effect was ruined by my bra straps and pantyhose. The skirt flared out like a ballet dancer's tutu, revealing my legs all the way up to the bottom curves of my buttocks. I like my legs and I have a very shapely ass, but the maid's uniform was not flattering with my panties and pantyhose showing. I decided to do something about it.

    I went to the bureau and looked in the drawers. There were some black silk stockings and garter belts, but no other underwear. Remembering what He – I still didn't know His name – had said about doing only what I was told and no more, I hesitated. I was already walking on thin ice, I didn't want to take any chances, but I wanted to impress Him if I could.

    I took off everything, I stripped naked. I put on one of the black lace garter belts and some black silk hose. Then I went back to the closet and selected a uniform that was slightly smaller than the one that had just fit me. I struggled into it and looked in the mirror. It was just what I wanted.

    The uniform was so tight I could hardly breathe. It pinched my mid-section making me look wasp-waisted. My breasts were barely contained by the bodice, it seemed they would pop out with every intake of breath. I walked back and forth in front of the mirror, watching them bounce and jiggle provocatively.

    Another trip to the bureau uncovered starched white collars and cuffs, with bow-ties and cuff-links already attached. I put some on. The effect was a good one. I was looking more and more like a fantasy version of a sexy French maid and I liked it. In another drawer I found a white lace apron to tie around my waist. I was getting more and more sexually excited as I found myself putting on a new persona as well as a uniform.

    Back in the closet I found some black, patent leather, high-heeled shoes. None of them fit me very well but I was able to find a pair that were only slightly small on my feet. The heels were over four inches high. I had never worn heels that tall before in my life and I had a little trouble balancing on them. I went back to the mirror to examine the finished product.

    I had to smile at my own reflection. I had never looked so sexy or so cheap before in my life. Seen from the front I was PG-13, sexy but not smutty. You could see the tops of my stockings and a bit of the garters under my skirt while my breasts billowed out over my bodice, almost but not quite showing my nipples. From the side I would get an R-rating. The skirt flared out enough to reveal the bottom curve of my ass, showing that I was not wearing any under garments. From the rear, however, as soon as I moved, I became X-rated. With every step the crack of my ass and some wispy blonde pussy hairs were revealed to anyone who happened to be looking I resisted the temptation to masturbate myself went downstairs to get my new employer's approval.


    "Come in," He called in reply to my knock I closed the door behind me as I entered and walked to His desk. I had to walk slowly as I was still unsteady on my feet, not feeling comfortable in such high heels. They made me lean forward, as though I were presenting my breasts to whoever I was approaching.

    "Miss Cramer," He smiled broadly, "you have exceeded my instructions."

    "I only tried to please you, Sir."

    "But you did not follow my orders," He was still smiling, "you took initiative without my permission."

    "I'm so sorry. Is there some way I can redeem myself?"

    "Perhaps we can come to some arrangement," He said.

    "Thank you, Sir."

    "Are you comfortable in that uniform?"

    "Well, yes and no."

    "Please be more specific."

    "The uniform is so tight I could hardly close the zipper and it makes it difficult for me to breathe."

    "Then why did you not select a larger size?"

    "This one looked better on me."

    "I see, I see." He nodded at me, smiling. He put His fingertips together, "Is there anything else?" He asked.

    "Yes," I looked down, trying to appear meek, "the shoes are too tight. I couldn't find a larger pair in the closet."

    "That is too bad." He clucked His tongue. "Perhaps, one day, we may be able to buy you a more suitable pair."

    "Thank you, I would like that," I replied.

    "Miss Cramer, I think I will be very happy with your services. You have shown a willingness to learn that is rare in these modern times. Would you like to see where your duties will take you?"

    "I'm sorry, I don't understand."

    "I have a staff that comes in twice a week to clean and maintain my house," He said. "They take care of all of the usual 'heavy' work of housekeeping. The position you will fill is more specialized, more refined, if you will."

    "I'm still not sure what you mean, Sir," I said, lying, knowing exactly what He was getting to but wanting to hear Him say it.

    "Your responsibilities will be confined to one room. Would you like to see it?"

    "You mean that I will not have to clean and dust this whole house but just one room of it?" I asked.

    "That is precisely right. Is this acceptable to you?"


    By that time anything He said would have been acceptable to me. I was quickly falling under His spell. He was everything Brad was not, and more. He was mature, self-confident, commanding and assertive. I was willing to say, do, or be anything He asked me to.

    I followed Him down the hallway to His special room. My knees were wobbly, not just from the unaccustomed high-heeled shoes, but from the growing sense of sexual excitement that was building between us. I felt myself starting to get warm, and wet. I wondered what would happen if I got so excited that I started dripping on the carpet. Would He be flattered that I found Him so exciting, or would He be angry with me for dirtying His rug?

    Up the stairs and down the hall, past the maid's quarters to the very end of the corridor, I was getting more excited with every step. When we finally arrived at the door I was nearly trembling with anticipation.

    "I hope you appreciate what an honor I am paying you by showing you this room after such a short acquaintance, Miss Cramer."

    "I do, Sir, I do."

    He slowly opened the door. I almost expected it to squeak on its hinges. Inside, the room was dim, a sharp contrast to the brightness of the rest of the house.

    "Come in, Miss Cramer, don't be bashful," He said, gently.

    I stepped in slowly, holding my breath, looking around.

    "This is my special room, my pleasure room." He walked over to a large, overstuffed armchair and sat in it. "In this room, all thoughts, all activities are directed to enjoyment. It is a kind of shrine to hedonism. Does this shock you?"

    "No, Sir," I said slowly. "I have never seen a room like this before, but it is your room, and it is not my place to make judgments about it."

    "Miss Cramer, you amaze me. I think we will develop a worthwhile relationship, in time. But first, why don't you look around and see if you can find something that interests you?"

    "Excuse me?"

    "Just take your time and explore my little room here. This will be your domain, your responsibility to keep clean and orderly. I want you to feel at home and I want to see what pleases you."

    I stood in the middle of the room and turned in a circle, slowly, trying to take in everything at once. On every wall were pictures of women, beautiful naked women. Some of them were in the midst of sexual intercourse, others were doing things I could not quite decipher but all of them were unmistakably experiencing ecstasy. I wanted to feel what they were feeling.

    At the same time I was aware of His eyes on me, watching me. I stood for a long time with my back to Him, letting Him see the bottom of my ass. I wondered if He was getting as excited as I was. It was impossible to tell, He gave me no indication at all.

    Against one wall was a glass display case. I walked over to it, keeping my legs slightly apart so that He could have glimpses of my pussy. I had never intentionally exposed myself to anyone before. I found I liked it. In the case was an assortment of dildoes. They were arranged according to size, starting with one about the size of my little finger and ranging up to one with two heads that must have been over two feet long. In between were dildoes of every shape and description imaginable, from smooth plastic battery operated vibrators, to large black rubber artificial penises with straps and reservoirs so they could be filled with liquid and worn.

    "May I open the case?" I asked.

    "Of course you may. I want you to enjoy yourself."

    I selected one from the middle of the display. It was a realistic looking ten inch vibrator. The head and shaft were intricately formed to simulate folds of skin and veins. I was getting increasingly excited just holding it.

    "A very good selection, Miss Jodie."

    I turned to face Him, holding the dildoe to my breast, as if it were a treasured object.

    "In the lower drawer you'll find a plastic sheet," He said, "bring it here."

    I did so and stood in front of Him with the dildoe in one hand and the sheet in the other.

    "Now, I want you to spread the sheet out on the floor in front of me."

    I did as He instructed. My thighs and breasts were beginning to tingle.

    "Please, just sit down and enjoy yourself," He smiled at me.

    "Excuse me, but I want to be sure I understand you," I said. "You've offered me a job as a maid, but what you really have in mind is for me to sexually exhibit myself to you."

    "That is what I've asked you to do now. I may have other instructions for you at other times." The smile faded from His face and He looked at me sternly. "You claimed that you were able to follow orders. If you misrepresented yourself, then I may have to take steps to correct the problem."

    What would He do to "correct the problem" I wondered. Would it involve some discipline?

    "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you," I said. "Sometimes I say things I don't really mean."

    "You must learn to control yourself. Self-discipline is very important in life, especially for someone as young and beautiful as yourself."

    "I apologize, I'll try to be good from now on."

    "That's better, that's the proper attitude for someone in your position."

    With no further discussion, I spread the plastic sheet on the floor in front of His chair. I sat down on it right in front of Him. I raised my knees and spread my legs, giving Him a clear view of my sex.

    The plastic already began to stick to my skin, it felt hot and clammy, very confining and uncomfortable. I switched on the vibrator and placed it at the entrance to my vagina.

    With two fingers of my left hand I spread my pussy lips apart while I teased my clitoris with the head of the dildoe. My cunt was already wet and shining, the dildoe made me hotter, drops of pussy juice ran out of my cunt and dripped down my ass, making my buttocks stick to the plastic sheet even more.

    I looked up at Him. He was watching me intently but otherwise sat motionless in His chair. His eyes were fixed on my cunt and what I was doing to it.

    I pushed the dildoe into my vagina, slowly, a centimeter at a time, watching Him for a reaction all the time. Waves of pleasure began to spread out from the vibrator, up my pussy, through my stomach, all the way to my head.

    My breathing was getting ragged, I could feel my orgasm starting to build. I was hot and embarrassed at the same time.

    "Don't you want to… join me?" I asked. "I could enjoy myself more if this were you." I pushed the dildoe all the way into my vagina, just the base of it could be seen protruding from my pussy lips.

    "You haven't earned it yet," He said, smirking just a little.

    I felt myself flush red, all the way from my face all the way down to my breasts. "Please, I can make you happy, and you'll make me very happy. Please."

    I laid down on my back and spread my legs wide. I pushed the dildoe in and out of my vagina quickly, feeling my orgasm getting closer and closer.

    "Please, please, I'm almost coming. I want you to come with me. Come in me, please," I begged Him.

    "You haven't earned my pleasure yet, my dear," He said. "But I will give you a sample."

    He stood up and unzipped His pants. I licked my lips in anticipation. He pulled out His prick and started stroking it. It was ten inches long, hard and luscious looking.

    "Just lie there, my dear, enjoy yourself. I would like to watch you experience your orgasm while I have mine."

    He stood over me, His feet between my legs. He was watching His prick and my cunt at the same time.

    "Please, come now," I moaned, "I'm almost there. Come with me, please… Master."

    I surprised myself, I had never intended to call Him that, I hadn't even thought of it. But when I did, when "Master" had left my lips, it felt good, and right, and natural. That's what I had been looking for all my life, a master, someone to rule me, control me, be over me, as He was now.

    I reached into my bodice and pulled out my breasts. I tweaked my nipples while I shoved the vibrator back and forth in my pussy.

    He stroked His prick faster. I saw the head get redder and more swollen.

    "That's right, my dear, you've just passed your first test. I am your master, you are my willing servant. Your whole purpose in life is to serve me. Your only reason for living is to give me pleasure. Is that understood?"

    "Oh, yes, Master, yes, Master. Please show me your pleasure. I'm coming now. Ah, ah, aaahhh, yes, NOW! PLEASE!"

    He gritted His teeth and pumped His hips back and forth. Long, creamy gobs of come erupted from His prick and splattered all over me. Warm, gooey, spurts of His love juice landed in my hair, on my face and breasts. I opened my mouth and caught some of it on my tongue. It hit me like electricity, sending jolts of pleasure through me.

    His come mixed with my come, some dripped on my cunt and made my orgasm last even longer.

    "Oh, Master," I moaned, "you have given me more pleasure than I deserve." My hand was still massaging my tits while I held the dildoe up my cunt with the other. "Oh, Master, Master, Master."

    I rolled over and kneeled at His feet. I licked the drops of His come up off the plastic sheet, savoring every drop. I kissed the toes of His shoes. I embraced His ankles and kissed the cuffs of His pants.

    "Master, I am yours."


    The next day I was at the front door again, this time with my suitcase in my hand. I hadn't brought a lot of clothing with me, I knew I wouldn't need it. I just had some toiletries and personal effects, some school books, and a note. I rang the bell.

    "Who is it?" came the same disembodied voice through the loudspeaker.

    "It is I, Master, your servant, Jodie." Just saying the words "master" and "servant" made me warm and tingly in my loins.

    "Ah, yes, my dear, do come in."

    The door buzzed and I entered. This time I did nothing, I just stood in the entry-way and waited. I didn't even put my bag down, I held it in my hand. Several minutes passed, I was starting to feel uncomfortable but I didn't move. I just waited.

    Eventually, He came down the stairs, smiling at me. "Welcome, Jodie, welcome. I'm happy you've returned."

    "Thank you, Master. I'm grateful to be here," I said.

    "Yesterday you asked to give me pleasure, do you remember?"

    "Yes, Master."

    "Your promptness and obedience today have already given me great pleasure. Would you like to give me more?"

    "Yes, Master."

    "Good. Put your bag down and kneel."

    I did so.

    "This will be one of your primary positions. When you have perfected it, then we will be able to move on to more elaborate pleasures. Do you understand?"

    "Yes, Master," I said, looking directly at His crotch.

    "Good." He unzipped His fly and took out His prick. It was half hard and stuck out at a forty-five degree angle, pointing at my breasts.

    I leaned forward and took it in my mouth. The sweet, musky flavor of His love tool filled my mouth and sent waves of pleasure surging through my body. I thought I would be able to have an orgasm just by sucking Him, I wouldn't even have to touch myself in order to come.

    His prick immediately grew hard and straight in my mouth. I sucked in as much as I could but could only get half of its ten-inch length into my mouth. I tried to relax my throat muscles, hoping to be able to swallow more of it.

    Suddenly, unexpectedly, He pulled back. He stepped away from me and I lost my balance. I fell forward onto my chest, just catching myself with my hands.

    "Oh, my dear," He clucked His tongue at me. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. I had such hopes for you. Now you have disappointed me yet again."

    I pushed myself back up onto my knees. "Master, I'm sorry. What did I do?"

    "You have exceeded yourself yet again. I didn't give you any instructions beyond ordering you to your knees. But, undisciplined wench that you are, you took it upon yourself to try to give me a blow job. Do you deny it?"

    "No, Master." I looked down. Tears were starting to form in my eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't understand. I thought you wanted me to… give you a blow job."

    "You are my servant. It is not for you to decide what I want, or why I tell you to do what I do. Do you understand?"

    "Yes, Master."

    "I'm not convinced, Jodie. Go to your room while I decide what to do with you." He put His penis back in His pants.

    Conflicting emotions surged through me. I was thrilled at His stern, disciplinary approach to me, while at the same time I was devastated at having disappointed Him. I started to get up to go upstairs but I saw Him stiffen and stopped myself. He hadn't told me to get up. I crawled on my knees down the hall, up the stairs, and to the maid's quarters. I left my suitcase in the entry-way where I had put it down. I was beginning to catch on. My new master wanted me to follow orders precisely, with no leeway for personal initiative.


    I waited on my knees for what seemed like hours. I knelt in the corner, hoping to impress my master with my obvious remorse. Finally He came into the room without knocking or announcing Himself in any way.

    "Jodie, come here," He said.

    I crawled over to where He stood and waited, not saying a word.

    "Jodie, I don't know what to do with you. Sometimes you show great promise, and other times you seem completely hopeless. Do you have anything to say for yourself."

    For an answer I reached into my bra and handed Him the note which I had composed the night before.

    "Most beloved Master," it read, "I give myself to you, completely and without reservation. I am yours to train and shape in any way that you deem worthwhile."

    "If, in the course of my apprenticeship with you, you decide that I need to be disciplined in any way, you have my total permission to carry out any punishment you consider necessary."

    "It is my desire to serve you perfectly and to give you pleasure."

    "Yours in obedience and servitude,"

    "Jodie Cramer."

    "Well, Jodie," He smiled as He folded the note and put it in His pocket, "there may be some hope for you yet. I'll save this in case you need to be reminded of it at any time. Get up now and put on your apprentice uniform."

    "Yes, Sir." I got up stiffly, rubbing the circulation back into my knees. "Sir, what is my apprentice uniform?"

    "I'm glad you asked, Jodie. Here, I'll help you." He went to the bureau and opened the drawers. He took out a black lace garter belt, black silk stockings, and two starched white cuffs. "Here, Jodie, put these on. I'll have to get your collar from the other room. Put on your shoes, too. I'll be right back."

    I quickly got undressed and put on the garments He had laid out for me. I looked in the mirror. I liked what I saw. The hose and garter belt nicely accentuated my muscular legs and trim hips. The black silk made a vivid contrast to my blonde pubic hair. The white cuffs on my wrists looked strangely formal and definitely kinky with the rest of my skimpy sexy costume. I tweaked my nipples between my thumb and forefinger making them stiff and hard.

    When I heard footsteps coming down the hall I went to the middle of the room. I stood with my legs slightly apart and my hands clasped behind my back, waiting patiently.

    He came quickly into the room. "Jodie, put this on," He said. It was a rhinestone encrusted, leather dog collar with a shiny, chrome plated leash. He held it out for me to take from Him.

    I reached out and took it. The cold metal sent a thrill through me, from my hand down to my toes. With trembling fingers I fastened the collar around my neck. The chain dangled down between my breasts with the leather handle brushing against my pubic hair.

    "Thank you, Master," I said.

    "You're welcome, my dear. Come with me." He tugged on the chain. "Heel," He said.

    I followed closely behind Him out of the room and into the hall. He stopped and turned to me. He smiled.

    "You may be more comfortable in position two, my dear."

    "Whatever you say, Master."

    "Get on your hands and knees, Jodie."

    "With pleasure, Sir."

    "Good, now, heel."

    I followed Him down the hall, as closely as I could without touching Him. We came to His special room and entered. He tugged gently on the collar, pulling me up.

    "Position one, my dear."

    I rose up on my knees with my hands at my sides. I knew what was coming next, Him and then me. I suppressed a smile.

    "Now," He opened His pants and took out His dick once more, it was hard this time, "now you can give me that blow job you were so eager to give me before."

    "Thank you. Master." I opened my mouth and took just the head between my lips. I flicked my tongue back and forth, rolling it around the top of His penis. I felt Him getting harder, He was starting to throb already. I could taste the sweet, salty flavor of a drop of pre-come liquid on my tongue.

    "Forgive me, Master," I said around His cock, not wanting to actually let it out of my mouth, "but may I touch myself at the same time as I service you?" I looked up at Him, beseechingly, still licking on the end of His dick.

    "Yes, you may, my dear. But only with your left hand. With your right you must further stimulate me. Do you know why?"

    "Because your pleasure is my only concern, Master."

    "That's right, dear. Go ahead, now, make yourself come."

    Gratefully, I put my left hand on my pussy and started rubbing my clitoris, feeling it harden and stiffen immediately under my manipulation.

    At the same time I reached into His pants and took His balls in my right hand. They were large and tight in His scrotum. I gently squeezed them, feeling them move around in their sack. He seemed to like that. He made soft moaning noises in His throat and spread His legs apart a little, giving me better access to His privates.

    I sucked as much of His dick into my mouth as I could. It brushed the back of my throat and I had to carefully control my gag reflex. He started moving His hips back and forth, making gentle fucking motions.

    My pussy was already wet. I smeared my juice around, over my clit, flicking it, frigging myself to the point of near-ecstasy. I slipped my middle finger into my vagina and moved it in and out. Imagining that it was Him, my new master, who was fucking me. My orgasm was building in my loins, getting hotter and stronger with every movement.

    "Mmm, yes, my dear, that's very nice," He said, "do you want my come?"

    "Um hm," I grunted around His cock.

    "Oh, yes," He gasped. "That feels nice, your voice sends vibrations all through me."

    "Hmmnunmmm." I hummed as loudly as I could, enjoying giving Him all the pleasure I could.

    "Yes, baby, that's nice. If you want to come with me, come now." He put both His hands on my head and held it still while He pumped His hips back and forth, fucking me in the mouth.

    I frigged myself harder and harder, not wanting Him to leave me behind.

    "That's it, baby, hum me good, honey. Rub my balls."

    Sweat beaded on my forehead, I was having trouble breathing. Pulses of pleasure built in my pussy and spread up and out, washing me with warmth, filling me with desire.

    Suddenly He stopped. He held my head still and jammed His member as deep into my mouth as He could get it. It expanded, throbbed and exploded, sending spurt after spurt of hot, creamy, come into my mouth and down my throat.

    "Yes, Jodie, take it now," He said, "take all my come, now."

    My own orgasm flowed through me as I tasted His sweet, creamy come on my tongue. I tried to swallow it all hut some dripped out the corners of my mouth and dripped down my chin. I felt it drip onto my titties and run down my tummy.

    Gradually, both our orgasms subsided. His cock shrank a little and I could breathe more easily. My own orgasm finished itself and left me weak, warm and shaky.


    "You can get up now, my dear," He said, tugging on my leash.

    Gratefully, I climbed to my feet. My knees were stiff and sore.

    He put His penis back in His pants and led me to the mirror. We stood before it, Him holding my leash and me with my hands clasped behind my back. He never told me to stand that way, I just adopted it on my own. It looked nice, I thought, slightly submissive while at the same time accentuating my breasts. My hair was slightly disheveled and my face was still a little flushed. My chin was wet from His come and drops of it left shiny trails from my breasts down my abdomen. I looked cheap and sexy. I liked it.

    "It is fortunate that you did not spill on the carpet," He said. "Otherwise, I would have to punish you. I do not think you would like that."

    "I'm sure you would only do it if it were for my own good, Master."


    He left me alone in the room. One of the closets had a sink and a complete arsenal of cleaning supplies. Although He hadn't instructed me to, I surmised that as a maid, I should clean the room. I took a dust cloth and pump bottle and set out to do a preliminary cleaning to orient myself to my new environment.

    I was already familiar with the overstuffed armchair and display case of assorted dildoes and vibrators. Against another wall was what looked at first like a massage table. It was about three feet high and upholstered in soft brown leather. Attached to each corner of the table by a thick strap, was an adjustable leather restraint. On closer examination, I saw that the whole table was split and hinged so that it could be opened up into the form of an "X".

    If someone were to be strapped to this table when it was in the open position, he or she, (ME!), would be spread-eagled, with just her torso supported by the intersection of the bars. My head and pelvis would be hanging free in the air. It looked very uncomfortable. I closed my eyes and imagined being tied down on it, helpless, being subjected to unspeakable humiliation. My pussy was wet and itching without my having to even touch it.


    At lunch time my master sent me to my room to shower and freshen up. When I was powdered and perfumed, as instructed, I put on a fresh outfit. Clean stockings and garter belt, different shoes, and, also as instructed, I substituted a white collar with bow tie for my dog collar and leash.

    When I was ready I stood, just inside the door, with my feet apart and my hands behind my back, waiting for my master. He didn't keep me waiting more than a few minutes. He entered without knocking, looked me over approvingly, and took me downstairs to the kitchen.

    "I hope you like what I have prepared for us," He said. "Please do not expect me to cook for you forever, I merely want you to become accustomed to the style and quality of food I will expect you to prepare on special occasions."

    It was a simple luncheon of chicken a la Kiev, asparagus with wild rice, and a small Caesar salad. I despaired of ever being able to equal it. I think He suspected my despair, because once or twice He gave me a teasing kind of chuckle when He took a bite of food.


    After lunch He took me to His study. He had me sit on His desk while He worked on an article He was writing. He wanted to be able to see my sex, He said, for inspiration.

    "It's hard for me to get a really good look at it with all that hair you have on it," He said. "Have you ever considered shaving it?"

    "Why, no, I haven't."

    "I think it would look so much prettier if it were naked and exposed, don't you?"

    "I don't know," I said, "I never thought about it. Would you like me to shave it clean for you, Master?"

    "Yes, I would like you to. Would you mind doing it now?"

    "Not at all, Master." I really liked the idea, it was harmless and kinky. It made me seem even more submissive. I ran up to my room and got out my razor. I had recovered my suitcase when I cleaned up for lunch.

    First I used a scissors to trim back the pubic hairs then I lathered my pussy with some facial soap and started shaving. It was a funny sensation, pulling a stainless steel blade across my most sensitive spot. I was very careful not to let my hand shake. I had a sickening fantasy about accidentally shaving off the tip of my clitoris. In just a few minutes I was done, shaved clean and smooth as a new-born baby.

    It was a pleasant sensation, feeling the cool breeze blow across my pussy as I walked down the hall. When I got back to the study, my master told me to come around to His side of the desk.

    "Let me look at you my dear," He said, appreciatively.

    I stood next to Him in my "Parade Rest" stance while He felt and admired my pussy.

    "Yes, this is far superior, don't you agree, my dear?"

    "It's very different, Sir. Thank you for suggesting it."

    "It's almost good enough to kiss." He played His fingers lightly over my clit. It started to stiffen immediately. "Oh, how nice," He smiled when He said it, "our little friend wants to come out to play."

    I spread my legs a little further, giving Him every opportunity to excite me.

    "Here," He moved His papers away from the front of the desk, "sit here."

    I climbed up on the desk, sitting squarely on the green felt blotter.

    "Lean back and put your feet up," He told me.

    I leaned back on my elbows and put my heels on the edge of the blotter, being careful not to scratch the desk. "Aren't you concerned about my possibly dripping on your desk?" I asked.

    "That's what blotters are for. Just relax, my dear."

    He leaned forward and put His mouth directly on my clit. I caught my breath sharply, and waited.

    At first, He did nothing. He just held my clit between His lips and stayed there, motionless. Just when I started to relax and breathe again, He put His tongue down on my clit and started rolling it around, very slowly and gently.

    I let my knees fall open and my stomach relax. My orgasm was starting already, it was deep down in my loins, already hot and glowing.

    "Mmmmm, thank you, Master. Thank you for everything."

    For an answer He licked up and down the entire length of my slit. My thighs trembled a little and my pussy juice started flowing. He licked up most of it, but some big slippery drops of juice oozed down from my cunt and ran down the crack of my ass.

    I was breathing harder now, unsure whether I should go ahead and come or if He wanted me to wait.

    As though reading my mind, He looked up from my pussy and said, "I like seeing you come. Go ahead, have as many orgasms as you can. You'll only be this young and beautiful for a short time. Enjoy it while you are."

    I let myself go. "Oh, thank you, thank you, yes, yes, good, God, yes, oh lick me master, please, yess, I'mmmm coommminnnggg, aaahhhrrrgggg, yes. God please, more, oh, oh, oh, oh, mmmooorrre, please!"

    When I was quite finished He stood up and unbuttoned His pants. They fell down around His knees. His member was hard, stiff, and fully extended. He grabbed hold of my hips and pulled my ass down to the edge of the desk.

    I wrapped my legs around His hips and with one smooth motion He plunged Himself into me up to the hilt.

    "AH! AH! YES! AGAIN!" I screamed, and used my legs to pull Him deeper and deeper into me with every thrust.

    It wasn't long before He was shooting and spurting His hot gooey come into me. I was nearly spent. My sexual excitement had continued almost unabated since I first set foot in that house. My orgasms were beginning to run together into one long unending come.


    Later, He had me crawl under the desk and into the knee-hole. I licked His cock until it was clean. Then I sucked on it until it was hard. My master put His hand on the hack of my neck, and by gentle pressure He was able to guide me to give Him exactly the sensations He wanted.

    After I got Him hard, He had me move my head up and down quickly, sucking hard, jerking Him off with my mouth. Then, right before He came, He had me stop, wait, hold myself motionless, while His excitement subsided. After He had gotten soft, He had me move my head back and rest it on His thigh, while He continued His writing and His cock recovered its stamina.

    When He was completely soft and small, He touched my head and guided my mouth onto His cock. I was able to get all of it in my mouth. Very quickly it started to swell and grow, getting hard in my mouth. He came, quickly and easily, filling my mouth with His come.

    I was able to swallow it all this time with no trouble. Its sweet muskiness giving me indescribable pleasure.


    The next two days were a lazy dream of sex. From morning 'til night, my master kept me busy and amused servicing Him and myself. At night He had me get into His bed before Him. I would crawl down to the foot of the bed, completely covered by the sheets and wait for Him to get in. It was warm and stuffy, sometimes I could hardly breathe, but He never gave me permission to get out so I had to just wait for Him.

    Around midnight He finally came to bed. I heard Him enter the room. I could hear Him moving around and I could hear His clothes rustling. I tried to imagine what He was doing, what article of clothing He was removing. I heard Him go to the bathroom, I heard the water running. I wondered what part of Himself He was washing.

    When He finally got into the bed I was trembling with excitement. His feet slipped between the sheets and moved down toward me. Enough light filtered through the covers that I could see, even if only dimly. I was naked now, He had told me to get undressed and prepare for bed. He slipped all the way in beside me. My head was on a level with His waist.

    "Do whatever you like, my dear," He said. "Amuse yourself, play with yourself, give yourself as many orgasms as you like. I have only one requirement of you."

    "Yes, Master, how may I serve you?" The words made me feel warm and wanted, I felt happier than I had ever dreamed possible.

    "I want you to constantly suck me tonight, do you understand?"

    "Yes, Master, you want me to suck your lovely penis all night."

    "Good girl, you may get started now."

    Slowly, as if we had all the time in the world, I took His lovely stiff cock in my mouth and sucked it until He came.

    I swallowed all of His thick, sweet jissom and kept on sucking, just as He had instructed me. My jaw started to hurt and my lips were getting dry, but I wouldn't disobey His orders, I kept His dick as deep in my mouth as I could and kept sucking, making Him hard and stiff yet again.

    "Very good, my dear." He patted my head as you would pat a dog. "You truly are an apt pupil. I have great hopes for you and our relationship."

    "Thank you, Master," I said, speaking around His cock.

    "I'm feeling drowsy, now, my dear. If I fall asleep, that does not relieve you of your responsibility, you understand that, don't you, darling?"

    He called me "darling"! I sucked Him harder, I rubbed His balls and stroked the bottom part of His shaft, the part I couldn't fit in my mouth. Giving Him pleasure was the most satisfying activity I could imagine for myself.

    "Yes, I think in a short time you may be able to graduate beyond mere sucking," He said, sleepily, "would you like that?"

    "Whatever you wish, Master," I said, without letting go of His cock.

    Eventually, we both drifted off to sleep.


    In the morning I was brought rudely into wakefulness by His hand painfully twisting my hair.

    "What have we here?" He had pushed the covers off the bed, exposing our nakedness. He twisted my hair in His fist even tighter, causing me great pain. "What were your instructions, bitch?"

    "To suck you all night, Sir."

    "Just 'all night'?"

    "No, Master," tears ran down my cheeks and I gasped with pain as He twisted my hair savagely in His fist. "To suck you continually all night."

    "And did you?"

    "No, Master, I fell asleep."

    "You fell asleep. What punishment do you think you deserve for that?"

    "Any punishment you think is appropriate, Master."

    Without letting go of my hair, He got out of bed, dragging me after Him. He strode down the hall to His pleasure room, holding my head down at His side. I had to crawl along on my hands and knees, moving as fast as I could to keep up. It was humiliating as well as painful.

    When we got to the pleasure room He slammed the door behind us and flung me to the center of the flour.

    "Any punishment I think appropriate, eh? Do you really want to subject yourself to ANY punishment I think is appropriate?"

    I stayed on my hands and knees and lowered my head to the floor, salaaming before Him. "Yes, Master."

    "What if I were to tell you that the appropriate punishment was for you to be banished from my house forever?"

    "Please, Master, I am weak. Please train me to serve you better."

    "What if I were to tell you that the appropriate punishment was for you to die a slow and painful death?"

    "Master," I said, trembling, "I rely on your mercy and good judgment."

    He waited a few moments while I groveled at His feet, not raising my head from the carpet. "I shall have my breakfast, now. While I am eating I will give some thought to your punishment. I suggest you do the same."

    After He left I got up and explored the room again, looking for something, anything, that could be used to soothe His anger without banishing me from His house.

    In the second closet, the one not used for cleaning supplies, I found a straight-backed chair. In the other display case, the one not used for dildoes, were some leather whips, I selected a long, thin one. The leather was soft and flexible. I hit myself across the calf with it. It stung sharply and left a thin red welt without breaking the skin or doing any permanent damage. In one of the drawers in that display case I found some shackles and hand-cuffs. I chose four chrome-plated pairs that had the keys attached.

    I moved everything out to the center of the room and arranged the scene I wanted Him to find when He returned. I wanted Him to see that I was truly repentant and deserving of His forgiveness. I was willing to accept His discipline. No, not just willing, eager to accept His loving training and stern discipline.

    I placed the chair in the center of the room with the hack to the door. I placed the whip and the keys to the handcuffs beside it. Then I attached one set of handcuffs to each of my wrists and ankles. The feel of cold metal against my skin gave me an unexpected thrill.

    I stood behind the chair and attached the hand-cuffs on my ankles to the chair legs, above the cross braces so they wouldn't slip off. Then I bent over and attached the other handcuffs, the ones on my wrists to the front legs of the chair, again being careful to hook them above the cross braces. It was a little tricky, attaching the last one using only one hand, but I was able to do it after only a couple of tries.

    There I was, completely naked and helpless, bent over and handcuffed to a chair, unable to move or save myself, completely reliant on Him to help me. I looked over to the whip on the floor beside me. Would He use it? Would He give me a simple lashing for my punishment? Or would He require a more elaborate form of discipline.

    I remembered that in the same case where I found this one, there were several other whips, some were long and wicked looking. There was one that made me shudder to recall. It was a cat-o-nine-tails, each thong was over two feet long and had a metal bead attached to the end. There was something dark brown encrusted on those beads. I was afraid that it was probably blood. I didn't want mine to join it. I hoped He would be satisfied with the punishment I had prepared for Him.

    I continued waiting. Hours passed. I was beginning to feel very uncomfortable. Bent over the chair as I was, my legs started to fall asleep from lack of circulation. I bent my knees and wriggled my hips rhythmically, trying to restore some circulation before they became completely numb. My head started to ache and throb as well. I wished I had waited before shackling myself in that way. I was giving myself more punishment than I would otherwise have received.

    Finally, my master returned. I heard His footsteps approaching from down the hall. The doorknob turned and the door sighed open, letting in a gust of cool air. I stopped moving and waited, holding my breath, hoping for the best.

    "Well, well, well." I could hear the slight smile in His voice. My heart leaped in my chest. Everything was going to be all right. He was going to forgive me! "I see you have been giving the problem some thought." He walked around, making a slow, leisurely circle around my chair. When He came into my field of vision, I could see that He had put on a white, silk dressing gown. It flattered His darkly tanned skin and curly dark hair.

    He stood to one side, His hands on His hips, looking down at me. I gazed up at Him, trying to appear as meek as possible. I was thrilled and delighted to see an unmistakable bulge in the front of His gown. I couldn't help smiling.

    "Yes, yes," He laughed at me, "your little idea has worked." He hunkered down on His heels and pushed my hair out of my face so He could see me better. "Believe me when I tell you that I had something rather different in mind for your punishment, something not quite so subtle as what you have devised."

    "I only hope I can atone for my error and win back your love and approval."

    "That sounds like a set speech." He petted my head, again, like a dog's. "Do you mean it sincerely?"

    For an answer, I craned my neck and kissed His hand, using my tongue.

    "We shall see," He said, "we shall see."

    He stood up and took off His robe. It was the first time I had ever seen Him completely naked that I could get a good look at Him. He was slightly over six feet tail, dark curly hair, deep blue eyes, and had a slim, muscular body that was evenly tanned from head to foot.

    His ten-inch member was hard and stuck straight out in front of Him. I was grateful and relieved that I was able to arouse Him like that. He walked around and stood directly in front of me.

    "Look at me," He ordered.

    I had to lean my elbows on the seat and crane my head back to see Him. His cock was right in front of my face.

    "See what you've done to me. My member is painfully swollen."

    "I'm sorry, Master. How may I relieve your discomfort?"

    Without speaking He merely pushed His prick forward, between my lips. I opened my mouth to accept Him. After having already sucked Him so many times yesterday and last night I was feeling more at home with His cock in my mouth than not. He moved it back and forth a few times, fucking me gently in the mouth and then pressed further in.

    Inexorably, I felt the head of His cock move down my throat. With my head tilted back like that my throat and mouth were in a straight line. He had no trouble getting all ten inches into me. His pubic hair brushed and scratched my nose. I was having a good deal of trouble breathing and my gag reflex was trying to make me retch, but I managed to suppress it and merely moaned with pleasure. I was proud to finally be able to give someone a "deep throat" blow job, and I was grateful that it was this wonderful, domineering man, my new master, who had made me do it for Him.

    "Oh, yes, my dear," He gasped with pleasure, "that's how it's done. You are an apt pupil. If we can teach you self-control and discipline, why there's nothing to which you might not aspire."

    I moaned and hummed as best I could, trying to show Him how grateful I was for His concern and approbation.

    Before coming in my mouth, He stopped and withdrew. He patted me on the head again and stepped away. Then He picked up the whip and stood next to the chair.

    "Is this little toy the one you want me to use for your punishment? Is that why you put it out for me?"

    "Yes, Master."

    "Have you ever been disciplined like this before?"

    "No, Master."

    "Then I must congratulate you on your… imagination, shall we say."

    "Thank you, Master."

    He swung the whip and stung my buttocks with it. My body tensed and I took a sharp intake of breath.

    "What was that you said?" He hit me again, harder this time.

    "I said, 'Thank you, Master,' Master."

    He continued lashing me with the whip. Each stroke burned and stung my flesh like fire. I wished I had a mirror so I could see what He was doing. I longed to watch the whip lashing against my skin. I wanted to see my skin turning red and swollen under each sweet, stinging blow of leather.

    "Thank you, Master," I said again, meaning it. He was giving me an experience I had only dreamed of. He was treating me as I had never dared to ask to be treated.

    "Thank you for punishing my transgression. Thank you for cleansing my sin with pain. Please help me to earn your forgiveness." I gasped each phrase through clenched teeth. I was having trouble breathing, I could hardly remain still. Each lash across my buttocks with the whip sent new waves of boiling pleasure through me. Each stroke of punishment made me warmer and wetter, sending me ever closer to the edge of orgasm. I knew my pussy was already wet and gushy. I could feel some drops of juice starting to ooze out of my slit and run down my legs.

    Suddenly He stopped. I couldn't believe it. That would be the ultimate torture, to bring me to the brink of pleasure and to then just leave me hanging there, with no hope of fulfillment. But no, He was only going to the display case. I could see Him open it and return. He was carrying the same dildoe I had used the previous day.

    "You're starting to drip, my dear. We can't have you soiling the rug. That would require even more punishment."

    I knew He was playing with me, now. He wanted to give me my orgasm, but He wanted to prolong it a bit more, perhaps make me beg for it. I would, too I wouldn't hesitate to beg, to completely humiliate myself for Him.

    "Perhaps what you need is a plug, a cork to stop your dripping."

    He turned on the vibrator and slipped it into my pussy. Slowly but firmly He shoved it all the way in until it pressed against the top of my womb. It stretched and pulled every fold of flesh in my vagina until it completely filled me. The constant, mindless, humming vibration quickly restored my excitement. I felt myself approaching orgasm once again.

    "Are you enjoying yourself, my dear?"

    "Yes, Master, thank you."

    "What would give you more pleasure?"

    "For you to have an orgasm with me."

    "Very good. How would you like me to have my orgasm?"

    "Any way you like, Master." He placed His hands on my buttocks. They burned under His touch, they were still red and raw from the whipping.

    "Would you like to learn something new?"

    "Yes, Master."

    He spread my buttocks apart. I felt something press against my rectum. 'Oh, my God,' I thought, 'he's going to put it in my bottom!' I had never even considered letting anyone do that before in my life. But now, the prospect thrilled and warmed me.

    "Oh, oh, ooooohhhh!" I screamed in pain. His cock was hard and dry. He hadn't lubricated Him or me. My flesh burned and tore as He shoved His huge cock up my bung-hole.

    "Is everything all right, my dear?" He sounded so kind, so solicitous.

    "Yes, please… don't… stop."

    "Are you enjoying this new punishment as much as the other, my dear?"

    "Oh, yes… please… more…" I gasped.

    "Beg me for it, Jodie. I want to hear what you want."

    "Please, Master… fuck me. Shove your beautiful hard cock up my ass and butt fuck me… please!"

    With one final thrust He was in me up to the hilt.

    "Oh… ah… yes… fuck me now… I'm coming. Now!" I gasped, screaming, thrashing around, coming uncontrollably. "Fuck me, fuck me, hurt me so good."

    I felt His cock throb and pulse, stretching my rectum even more. I imagined the pleasure He was getting, feeling the vibrator in my pussy while He fucked my ass. I think He must have come then, with me. I felt some warm liquid, it must have been His come, drip out of my asshole and run down the back of my leg.


    The next two days were spent in blissful submission to my master's moods. He took both days off from working to spend time with me, training me in His ways. As near as I could gather by inference, for He never discussed it with me, my master was a writer or consultant. When He did work it was in His study, either at His typewriter or His tape recorder. I never heard what He said or saw what He wrote. I was only aware of the tools He had in His study.

    For those two days though, He only went in His study to retrieve messages from His telephone answering machine and jot memos to Himself to answer them.

    The rest of the time we spent together, from waking to sleeping, learning about each other. Yes, my master took great pains to learn all about me. He asked me about my family and upbringing, my hopes and dreams for the future, my tastes in music and art.

    He also took great pains to learn where I was most sensitive on my body. He learned where exactly I like to be kissed and tickled. I let Him see how His teeth would make my nipples harder, faster than His tongue could. When He was kind enough to fuck my pussy, which He was, twice, He discovered immediately how I love having my clitoris sucked, like it was a little penis. Sometimes, when I'm very excited, and every time I've made love with my new master I've been very excited, my clitoris gets so hard that it sticks out of my slit like a little pearl. And when someone sucks on it, as master did so well, it will grow and stand up almost three-quarters of an inch, just enough to suck and lick.

    I learned all I could about Him, too, of course. But He was quite reticent about Himself. I got the impression that He was a bit older than He looked. He had the body of a young man, the face of a mature man, and the patience and outlook of someone who has seen a lot of life. But He wouldn't talk about Himself.

    We discussed world affairs at some length. I got the feeling He had traveled to many of the places we discussed. He was an advocate of personal liberty, (as I would have guessed), and human rights.

    "The freedom to choose and then to act on that choice is vital to the human spirit, essential to the evolution of our race," He said.

    I was such a young girl, He was so experienced, I was completely in awe of Him. I felt honored, like a temple priestess, called upon to service the God-king.

    He instructed me in using my mouth and tongue to stimulate and prolong His orgasm. He taught me to tease Him almost to coming. I learned the tell-tale twitches and throbs that preceded even His pre-come ejaculate. I sensed when the energy was just starting to ascend through His spine, and I would stop.

    I'd hold His throbbing cock gently in my mouth and let His orgasm subside. Then I'd kiss and lick His balls, feeling Him gasp and moan with pleasure. When He began to recover His composure I'd slip His cock in my mouth again and repeat the process.

    One afternoon in the living room, while watching an X-rated video on the VCR, I kept teasing Him to the brink of orgasm and then holding back. I kept His cock erect for over two hours before up [missing text].

    [missing text] into my cunt?

    My God! Those sorts of people weren't the sort that I associated with! I had been led to believe, all my life, that people like that were a lower order that one had nothing to do with! And I had always believed that, too!

    The only other men I knew were junior executives and that sort of men, polite and clean cut social climbers who would have never ever done anything like pushing me into a bathroom and fucking me there! They would have found an experience like that as repugnant as I did!

    They were men whose idea of a good time was to go to a sophisticated nightclub dressed in an expensive suit, me wearing an evening dress, and to dance conservatively with me, maybe have a few drinks.

    After a few dates like that we might even go to their apartment and make love (you notice I didn't say "fuck") and… it would be nice but it would never be anything special that they gave to me in their bed.

    Was what Hakim had done to me – what the biker had done to me, in fact – was that something special, or was I just going out of my mind? I mean, at that point I figured that that was a definite possibility!

    The fingers of the warm water were starting to calm me, even relax me a little from the tension. "I'm going away on a business trip. I'll be gone nearly a week."

    "Oh." I didn't know what else to say. I felt foolish.

    "I hope you will take that time to rest and restore yourself, because when I return, you may find your duties quite demanding."

    "I will, Sir. Thank you for calming my foolish fears."

    "You will soon learn to relax yourself completely into my care, my dear."

    "I know it, Sir. Please be patient with me," I kissed His hand.


    The next few days I spent between the dormitory and the gymnasium. Resting and exercising were my only activities, except when I was tired, then I drifted off to dream-filled sleep, dreaming of my master and how He would pleasure me when He returned from His trip.

    Sunday afternoon was hot. The temperature climbed into the nineties and I decided to climb into the pool. There were two pools open on campus that day, one indoors and one out. I chose the indoor pool for privacy's sake. There were about a hundred kids laughing and playing around the outdoor pool and even though most of them were older than me, in comparison with my master, they were mere children. I wanted no part of them. They were just playing, socializing. I needed to concentrate, I was preparing my body for service. I wanted to swim laps, to improve my muscle tone and increase my stamina. I wanted no distractions.

    There were four other people at the indoor pool when I arrived, and three of them were leaving. I draped my towel over the railing and dove in.

    The water was cool and brisk. My whole body tingled with the sudden chill. I quickly started a fast crawl stroke down the length of the pool and back. I wanted to raise my body temperature quickly to reach a comfort zone for my exercise.

    After twenty laps I flipped over onto my back to catch my breath while I still kicked my way up and down the length of the pool. I felt good and strong. I felt young and healthy. I felt invincible.

    A glance to my left showed me that that other person was still in the pool with me. She was swimming laps also, quietly and methodically plying the water even faster than I was and with less shortness of breath.

    I flipped back over and did ten more laps at top speed, then I climbed up onto the side of the pool and caught my breath. My companion was still churning back and forth in her lane.

    I got up to get my towel and she climbed out of the pool.

    "You're quite an athlete," she said.

    "What? Were you talking to me?" I asked.

    "Yeah, I was watching you." She picked up her own towel and rubbed her hair, it was very short and brown and with her green eyes it gave her a pixyish, elfin quality. "Not many people can swim laps the way you were. Did you ever think of trying out for the team?"

    "Oh," – of course, she was on the swimming team, that's why she was such a strong swimmer – "no," I said, "it never occurred to me."

    "Think about it. You're good, you might make it."

    She was smiling at me in the most open, friendly way I could imagine. She had broad shoulders and narrow hips. With her short hair it made her look a little like a boy. I felt drawn to her. There was something about her, her strength and enthusiasm, that I found attractive.

    "My name's Mandy Carter." She stuck out her hand.

    "Hi." I shook it. "I'm Jodie Cramer."

    "I know, I sat next to you at orientation last September."

    "Did you? I'm sorry, that was so long ago, I can't remember."

    "That's OK," she turned to her locker. "You were talking to someone else."

    "Oh, yeah, Brad," I said, remembering. "He was my boyfriend."

    "I thought so, I used to see you two around on campus together."

    It felt funny, meeting this person for the first time and finding out that she had been aware of me for months previously.

    We went back to the locker room together to shower and change.

    "Are you and Brad still going together?" she continued.

    "Not exactly. He's away for the summer and… I don't know what'll happen when he gets back."

    "Oh really?" She seemed to brighten a little.

    "What about you," I asked, "do you have a boyfriend?"

    "I'm not seeing anyone right now, no." She stepped out of her bathing suit and walked into the shower.

    I watched her hips sway down the aisle between the lockers. They were firm, tight, and muscular. There was not a bit of excess fat on them. Her legs and torso were firm and well shaped also. I wondered what her skin would feel like against mine. I wondered why I was wondering that.

    I peeled off my bathing suit and hung it in the locker. Suddenly embarrassed, I remembered that I had a shaved pussy. Only whores and nude models, who were no better than whores, shaved their cunts! What would Mandy think of me? I wrapped a towel around myself and went into the shower room. I took the stall next to Mandy because I wanted to continue our conversation, but I kept my back to her for fear she would see my pussy and think terrible things about me.

    At the same time I wanted to hide myself from her, I was trying to catch glimpses of Mandy's naked body. Like most swimmers she shaved all her body hair except that on her pubis. Her back and shoulders glistened under the shower. Her breasts looked as tight and firm as her buttocks. They looked like two halves of honeydew melon on her chest. She had tiny little pink nipples that were hard and stiff in the spray of water from the shower nozzle.

    I tried to steal a look at her pubis but could only see a glimpse of darkness at the top of her strong, smooth thighs. She went back to the lockers to dress. In a few minutes I followed her, keeping my towel around me at all times until I was dressed.

    "What are you doing tonight?" Mandy asked as we walked out into the afternoon sunlight.

    "I don't know," I said. "Maybe look over my French."

    "How boring! Want to go to a movie?"

    "That might be fun."

    "Come on, we'll walk into Westwood and find something fun to see."


    I was feeling a little light-headed being with Mandy. There was something about her that resonated deeply in my soul. While walking together her hand would occasionally brush against mine. It sent sparks up my arm and made me catch my breath.

    I would glance over at Mandy and thought I could detect a slight flush on her cheeks. She wouldn't look directly at me but would occasionally glance in my direction.

    Once or twice our hips brushed together. Mandy didn't pull away, she kept walking close to me. I could feel the warmth of her body and smell her skin under the scent of soap and chlorine.

    I had never before had such feelings about a woman. I always thought such things were unnatural. But now, after my introduction to my master, after He awakened my power, and passion, now I was interested. I felt a familiar, warm, liquid sensation begin to build in my loins.

    Freedom. Freedom! FREEDOM!


    When I got back to my room at the dorm I decided to change my clothes again before going to meet Mandy. I wanted to look nice for her. When I got undressed I noticed that my pussy, which had caused me such anxiety and embarrassment, was starting to grow stubble. Scratchy little blonde whiskers stuck out of my pube.

    I went into the bathroom and got out a fresh razor. I lathered my pussy with facial soap and gave myself another shave. "If I'm going to have a shaved pussy," I said aloud, "I guess I'll have to shave my pussy." Chuckling at my own inanity, I put on some loose summer slacks, a white cotton blouse, and went downstairs.

    Mandy was already there waiting for me when I arrived.

    "You look nice," she said as I approached.

    "So are you," I responded. She had changed also, into walking shorts and a tight fitting blouse. It was obvious that she wore no bra and that knowledge made me very excited. I could feel the sexual current building between us. What had looked like a casual suggestion had turned into a date. I got a whiff of Mandy's perfume. It had a light, musky scent. I knew I would do something new that night, something I had never done before.


    We walked through the village chatting, sipping on Calistoga water, reading the movie marquees, and chatting about inanities with each other. What we said was less important than the fact that we were saying it.

    Mandy would lean in close to listen to me when I spoke, and when she confided her thoughts to me she touched me lightly on the arm, and her warm breath brushed my ear.

    We settled on a comedy and bought our tickets. The fact that the movie was starting right then probably had more to do with our decision than any other consideration, like subject matter.

    After the first fifteen minutes we were both ready to leave the theater. It was a teen-age summer vacation comedy. Ail the jokes were about sex and acne and they weren't funny.

    We left the theater giggling at our own stupidity at throwing our money away on such a bad movie.

    "What do you want to do now?" I asked once we were outside.

    "I don't know, what do you want to do?"

    "No fair, I asked you first."

    "Why don't you spend the night with a couple of wild and crazy guys?"

    I turned to see who had spoken, out of the corner of my eye I could see Mandy's face darken and her whole body tense up.

    "Hello, ladies. Allow me to introduce myself and my eminent companion." He bowed graciously. They looked like a couple of average college students, cute enough to see a movie with.

    "This is Dr. Freud," his friend bowed, "and I am Dr. Jung. You seem to be bereft of companionship, Dr. Freud and I would like to offer our services to fill any such need you may have."

    "Why thank you gentlemen," Mandy's tone belied the tension I saw in her face and body. "But we already have companionship and besides, I wouldn't dream of coming between two such well matched people as yourselves."

    "I have to agree with my friend," I said, "our trivial interests cannot interfere with your great work." I laughed.

    "But ladies, we can help to free your repressed libidos."

    Mandy spun an her heel and spoke directly to the taller one. She was a full head shorter than he but her voice and manner were more frightening than any of us would have expected.

    "If you don't stop bothering us you're going to find your libido in a bed-pan. Get me, buster?" She turned and strode away from the pair, leaving them open-mouthed.

    I followed quickly after her. "Mandy, you wildcat!" I feigned surprise. "Why did you have to frighten those poor little boys?"

    "They… when I was… I… I'm sorry, Jodie, maybe we should go back to the dorm. I over-reacted I guess."

    "Mandy what's wrong? What got you so upset back there?"

    "It's nothing, nothing. Let's talk about something else."

    We walked in silence for a few minutes. Gradually, Mandy calmed down and we slowed our pace to more nearly normal.

    "A long time ago," she began speaking in a low monotone, I had to strain to hear some of what she said, "when I was just a little girl, really, some boys invited my sister and me to the movies."

    "They were a little older than us. One of them had just gotten his driver's license, so I guess they were a lot older than I was at the time. But we all knew each other because it was kind of a small town and my sister was in high school with them and she thought the other one, the one who didn't drive was kind of cute."

    "So, we all piled in the car and Billy, he was the one who was driving, he said he didn't want to go to the movies anymore because I was too little and he'd be embarrassed to be seen in public with me."

    "Well, that hurt my feelings and June, my sister, got all mad at me for spoiling her date with Mark. So, I said let's go to the drive-in and everybody agreed and so we did."

    Mandy was speaking quickly, her breath coming in short gasps. She was walking fast with her head down. Her story had a hypnotic effect on herself as well as me. The difference was that while I was getting sexually aroused by the obvious direction the story was going in, Mandy was becoming more and more upset. I liked the image she was building of a young virgin unwittingly getting herself into deeper waters than she had anticipated. Mandy was reliving the fear and terror of that night.

    "You don't have to talk about this if you'd rather not," I said.

    "What? Oh." She shook herself out of her reverie, coming back to reality with a shudder. "Where are we?"

    I looked around, we had almost left Westwood Village completely and reached the Veteran's Administration Hospital.

    "We're practically in West L.A.. I guess we should go back."

    "I'm sorry, Jodie, I didn't mean to spoil your evening." She started to sob a little. "I should have left you alone."

    "Don't be silly, Mandy." I put my arm around her shoulders.

    She leaned against me, accepting my comfort eagerly. Together we turned and walked back to Westwood, back toward the dormitory, our footsteps echoing hollowly on the pavement, oblivious to the stares from passing cars.

    I regretted having stopped Mandy's recital a little bit. It seemed that we were getting into an area of intimacy that we both wanted to explore but the landscape was too dangerous for us to continue.

    "Look, Mandy, let's not let ourselves get too depressed over this, whatever it is." We were back in the heart of Westwood, now, and the party mood was slightly infectious.

    "You're right," she said, shaking her head and wiping the last tear away from under her eye. "What would you like to do, Jodie?"

    "What do you say we rent a video and go up to my room? I have a VCR and you can make some popcorn while I get the dirty clothes off the couch."

    "That sounds like fun, Jodie. You're a good friend."

    "I hope so, Mandy, I hope so."

    We selected Frank Capra's classic, "Sullivan's Travels". It's a comedy about a movie director who goes looking for the truth about poverty so he can make a movie about it. He learns that the poor already know more than they care to know about poverty and the rich don't care. He also learns that films don't have much value beyond their entertainment value. And that sometimes the greatest service you can do for someone is to just entertain them, to help them forget their troubles, even if just for a little while.

    Back in my dorm room Mandy made popcorn in my electric popper, (we can't have stoves of hot-plates in the dorm), while I straightened up the room and put the tape in the VCR.

    Then, with the popcorn in a big bowl on our laps and the lights turned down low we snuggled together on the couch to enjoy the film. Mandy had never seen it before, she had never even heard of Frank Capra, and loved every frame of it. I hadn't seen it in over three years, myself, and laughed at every joke as if for the first time.

    When it was over I turned off the television and returned to the couch and to Mandy's arms.

    "Did you like it?" I asked.

    "Yes, very much. I had no idea such good movies were made back in the thirties. I thought they were all mysteries and musicals."

    "Are you feeling better?" I brought the subject back to her. I hoped she was strong enough to clear it so we could move on to the next step. I sensed that she wanted to. I knew I wanted to. I hoped she knew I wanted her. "It must have been very traumatic."

    "It was." She started to retreat into herself again.

    "Sometimes talking about it can help to heal an experience like that."

    She said nothing, she twisted her fingers together.

    "Mandy, I want to be your friend, I want to help you. I thought you wanted to be friends with me, too."

    "I do… it's just that… you don't…" she stated crying again.

    I didn't say anything else. I put both my arms around her and rocked her gently back and forth. I hummed Brahm's lullaby in her ear.

    After a few minutes she sniffed back her tears.

    "We went to the drive in movie," she continued her story in the same quiet voice she had used before. But she was more present this time, less sing-song.

    "Billy and I sat up front and Mark and June were in the back seat. The feature had barely started before I could hear Mark and June getting started on each other."

    "Getting started?" I asked.

    "You know, kissing and making out. Mark was saying things like 'Oh baby, baby,' and June was saying, 'Do you love me, honey?' and dumb things like that."

    "Meanwhile, Billy had his hands all over me. I had never even French-kissed a boy before much less had one feel me up! I was scared. And Billy was real rough with me, too. That didn't help me to feel good about what was happening."

    "I thought you said you liked Billy."

    "No, June liked Mark and I wanted to be out with her, so I had be with Billy, but I never liked him before. And then, I always hated him afterwards."

    I said nothing I let her find her own speed.

    "He leaned over me and pushed me down on the seat, then he whispered in my ear that he knew I would have to make a show of resistance, so every time I said 'No' he'd know I meant yes."

    "'No,' I told him and he laughed and said 'That's right, baby,' and he put his hand under my blouse and broke my bra."

    Mandy was sobbing in my arms, now. I just held her next to me, trying to comfort her.

    "It was my first bra, and he broke it. I tried to push him off of me but he was too strong. June must have know what was happening but she didn't do anything."

    "He raped me." She was crying steadily now, a little stream of tears running down both cheeks. "He tore my clothes from my body and raped me. I tried to stop him, I tried…"

    "What about your sister," I asked, "didn't she try to help?"

    "I talked to her afterwards and she said she thought I was enjoying it. I hated her after that, too."

    "Those boys tonight, I guess they just reminded me of Billy and Mark was all. I'm sorry I spoiled it for you if you wanted to go with them."

    "I wanted to spend the evening with you, remember? You asked me first."

    "Thank you, Jodie. You are a good friend." She kissed me lightly on the lips, eagerly, I kissed her back.


    When Mandy had finished crying I took her into my bedroom. I told her that I thought she needed some human companionship, some animal comfort, to help her through the night.

    "I don't have my nightgown with me," she said.

    "That's all right, I won't wear mine."

    Remembering my shaved pussy, I got undressed with my back to her and slipped under the sheets the same way. I leaned back against the pillows and watched Mandy finish her undressing before she crawled into bed with me.

    "For someone as modest as you are, you certainly like to look at other people," Mandy said.

    "I like to look at beautiful things and beautiful people," I answered. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, Mandy. You have a gorgeous body, no wonder those boys wanted to pick you up."

    "It was you they were after, and since when are you interested in women's bodies. I thought you had a boyfriend."

    "No, I told you, he's gone for the summer, and we probably won't get back together in the fall, either."

    "So there's no man in your life?"

    I evaded the question. "There's you in my bed, isn't that more important?"

    "Do you mean…" She was nervous, hesitant, I was going to have to be the aggressor. I was sure she was a lesbian. She came onto me in the shower hadn't she. She had let her hand and hip brush up against mine while we walked together, wasn't she using body language to tell me she was hot for me?

    Or was I going crazy? Was I seducing an innocent young athlete who had had an early trauma and just needed someone to confide in? Or was this a case of two consenting almost-adults who were ripe for new experiences?

    Before I could get too tangled up in my analysis of the situation, Mandy placed her hand on my breast. I sighed deeply and moved toward her. She dropped her head and took my nipple in her mouth.

    "Oh, yes, Mandy. Is this what you want?" I reached over and took her firm young breast in my hand.

    "You just lie still," she said, "let me do it. I want to."

    I lay flat on my back and let her have her way. She kissed first one nipple then the other. She moved her in tight little circles over the aureoles and teased the nipple back and forth.

    I put my hand on the back of her neck and pressed down gently, until I felt her teeth touch my tittie. Then I held her their and inhaled, letting my breath push my flesh against her teeth, savoring the sweet hardness of her.

    She responded with vigor, sucking me harder and nibbling gently on my skin. She squeezed and kneaded my flesh while she sucked me. She kissed me higher up, trailing her tongue up my chest to my neck and then my ear.

    "You've done this before," she whispered in my ear.

    "No, you're the first," I answered, truthfully.

    "The first ever?"

    "The first woman."

    "Well, what the heck, that's almost as good," she laughed, climbing on top of me. "Now you're in for a treat."

    She kissed me full on the mouth. Her soft, warm lips covered mine with their sweet wetness. Her tongue, like an intelligent thing, slipped into my mouth and played with mine.

    I wrapped my arms around her neck and let her do whatever she wanted.

    She slipped her legs between mine and supported herself on her knees and elbows. She moved back and forth on top of me, her stiff little nipples brushed against mine. Her pubic hair scratched my freshly shaved pussy. I wondered if she could feel the difference.

    Slowly, her lips left mine and drifted down my chin. Then she kissed my neck and my breasts again. I knew where she was heading. She kissed my abdomen and licked my navel on her way to my pleasure spot.

    "Hello, hello, hello, what's all this, then?" she said, laughing.

    "What's the matter, never seen a shaved pussy before?"

    "Not on a sweet little semi-virgin like you, my dear."

    "Please don't call me that."


    "'My dear.'"

    "All right, what shall I call you?"

    "Call me anything you want, Mandy, but don't stop doing what you're doing."

    "Yes, ma'am, darling," she said, and plunged her head down under the sheet again.

    She lost no time in finding my slit or licking it. Her tongue immediately explored the inner folds of my pussy lips and started my juices flowing.

    The soft firmness of her body, the strange familiarity of her breasts on mine, the sweet, subtle forbiddenness of our love, made me hot and ready to come.

    Mandy found my little friend, my clitoris, getting hard and ready to be sucked. She flicked her tongue back and forth over it a few times, just teasing me, watching it get hard and start to protrude from my slit, but not putting her lips on it to give me relief.

    I put both hands on her head and guided her down, putting her mouth where it would do me the most good. She didn't resist at all. She knew she was going to give me what I wanted, she just wanted me to ask for it, even if non-verbally.

    "I'm almost there, Mandy," I gasped. "Are you ready for me to come?"

    For an answer, Mandy took the middle three fingers of her right hand and slipped them between my pussy lips. When she felt my clit grow stiffer in her mouth, and heard my breathing get faster and more ragged, when she knew I was on the brink of ecstasy, then she shoved those fingers as deep into my cunt as she could force them.

    "AH! AH! AH!" I pulled a pillow over my face and bit it to stifle my screams.

    Mandy sucked and pulled on my clit, hard, giving me great pleasure and pain. Her fingers stretched and pulled at my pussy, sending waves of warmth all the way up through me to the top of my head.

    I raised my knees and spread my thighs, I tried to force Mandy's hand and head all the way into me. I couldn't imagine how I had gone through my life without ever before having the pleasure of a woman's body on mine.

    Mandy stayed between my legs, contentedly licking up my come juice before it could drip down onto the sheets.

    Afterward, Mandy and I lay in each other's arms. Mandy spoke first.

    "I thought you were so modest and demure when we were in the locker room, the way you kept yourself covered up alt the time," she said.

    "I couldn't let you see my pussy first thing like that, you'd have thought I was a tramp."

    "So you let me discover it first hand."

    "You asked me out."

    "You took me to bed!"

    "I knew you were a wild bitch, when you made me bite your titty."

    "I'll bite your titty!"

    Our playfulness quickly degenerated to more kissing and licking of each other's bodies. Mandy climbed on top of me again, but this time reversed over me, so I could suck her pussy while she are mine.

    Her cunt was sweet and tight, just as I'd suspected it would be. We got very little sleep that night, mostly we just played with each other's cunts, licking up our come juices again and again.


    Mandy and I became very close over the next few days. She brought her overnight bag and tooth-brush and shared my bed every night.

    We ate breakfast and jogged together each morning, swam laps in the afternoon, and held hands through supper each night. Mandy took an extra hour's workout every day before lunch doing sprints in the pool.

    I had been right about Mandy. She was a lesbian and she wasn't ashamed of it.

    "After Billy raped me I hated to be around men at all. Even my father, who was a wonderful man, made me fearful when he got too close to me."

    "At the same time I realized that it was my sister, June, who had attracted me to the double date. It was she I wanted to be with. I was disillusioned about her afterwards, she didn't really care about me, but I realized that I liked girls better than boys. I was in the eighth grade at the time, I've known that I'm homosexual for a long time."

    "Has it been lonely for you?"

    "It was at first, very lonely, and scary. There was no one I could talk to about my feelings, no one to ask questions, no one to touch or kiss. I cried myself to sleep on many of those nights."

    "Later, when I was in high school, I noticed some of the girls in gym class would try to sneak looks at the other girls in the shower. One of them was a senior, Debbie Horowitz. She was the star of the girl's swimming team. She's why I got interested in the sport."

    "It was hard to find a girl to be friends with back then. Girls who were lesbians were social outcasts. They were never invited to parties or dances. People wrote dirty words on their gym lockers. In that school, in that town, a girl had to appear 'normal' even if she wasn't."

    "Debbie was different. She was just like a big sister to me. She said 'Hi,' and made me feel welcome from the first minute she saw me. Later I found out it was because she wanted to make love to me, but I didn't know that then."

    "It was Debbie who brought me out. I'll always remember her. She was the one who I gave my virginity to, not that bastard Billy."


    It was fun getting to know Mandy like that, learning bits and pieces of her past, a little at a time. She revealed herself to me the same way a rosebud blooms, the outer petals open slowly at first, only revealing the backs of other petals, just like themselves, only further in. Greater depth revealed greater sameness, until, after much patience, the inner bloom, the perfect beauty, fragrance, and selflessness is suddenly revealed.

    Mandy took my virginity, in more ways than one. She wasn't just the first woman ever to make love to me, she was the first person in my life who knew how to give me pure, unadulterated pleasure. I was able to completely open myself up to her, and she responded by giving me her all, without reservation. It was a new experience for me. I had never before been "close" with someone the way I was with Mandy. We were friends and equals.

    The days blended together into a hazy stream of exercise and love. One morning at the pool we found ourselves alone. It was an overcast, foggy, dank Southern California summer morning.

    We were at the pool at seven AM wearing sweat-suits to guard against the chill. The custodian let us in and went on to perform his duties at the main gym. We quickly peeled out of our sweat suits and dove in.

    The water was COLD. We pumped our arms and legs and tore off ten fast laps without stopping. Then, warm and steady, we swam next to each other for awhile. It was a kind of naive balletic mating dance we performed in the water that morning. We swam the side-stroke, facing each other, just inches apart.

    I was on my left side, Mandy on her right. In stroking down with my right hand, I let it brush down Mandy's breast and torso. Mandy giggled, spitting water at me, and returned the favor. She squeezed my breasts and scratched my pussy with each stroke. I tweaked her nippies as best I could. I started getting warm. I wanted to finish what we were starting.

    "Wait here, sweetheart," I said and climbed out of the pool.

    I ran through the locker room to the front door. There was no one else in the building. I locked the front door, feeling a thrill of naughtiness shoot through me. I felt like a little girl again.

    Back at the pool, I stood on the edge and did a slow strip-tease, giving Mandy my best bumps and grinds. She cheered and whistled, applauded and shouted obscene suggestions to me.

    While I was finishing my act, Mandy peeled out of her bathing suit. She splashed me with it as I dove in over her head. She ducked under and caught me by the ankles. We twisted and writhed together in a mock wrestling match.

    We gasped for air on the surface and ducked under again. We kissed underwater, tasting chlorine in our mouths. Our bodies squished and slid together, like slippery water balloons. Mandy slid down and put her mouth on my pussy. Her tongue was so warm against the cold of the water I had to pull myself to the surface to keep from gasping water into my lungs.

    Mandy grabbed a breath of air and went back to my cunt. I did a slow backstroke and got us over to the side of the pool while Mandy continued licking me furiously. I couldn't do it. If I let myself come in the water I'd drown.

    I pulled Mandy's head up to mine and kissed her on the lips. I could taste a little of my cunt on her mouth.

    "Come on," I said. I pulled her out of the water after me.

    She went limp and let me drape her over me. She covered me with her wet, slippery body and kissed me with her wet, slippery tongue. Our sweat mixed.

    I remember it was Tuesday morning, the few days we had together seemed like a short lifetime. I was sleeping, dreaming I was at the seashore. I walked into the ocean and it was warm. The water lapped at my legs and sent waves of peaceful warmth through my body. I walked further into the water, savoring the feeling of peace, wanting to completely lose myself in it.

    The water reached my vagina and I relaxed down into it. I laid back and let the water close over me, completely enveloping me. The weight of the ocean pressed on my chest. To my surprise I could still breathe.

    At that point I started to wake up. I slowly came to the realization that I was in my bed and not in the ocean. The weight I felt was Mandy's body, draped over mine. Her face was between my legs, her mouth and tongue were the instruments of my feelings of oceanic bliss.

    Her knees were on either side of my head, her pussy was right in my face. I leaned forward and gave it a little lick.

    Mandy grunted happily and wiggled her ass, encouraging me to continue. Meanwhile she began licking my clit with renewed energy, making me move my hips and groan with pleasure.

    She was so sweet, so considerate, the gentlest of all possible lovers, I felt my heart going out to her. I licked her sweet little cunt with the same tenderness I would give to her mouth.

    She licked and sucked all around my cunt, licking my whole pubic area, making my pussy lips all red and swollen with desire. She reveled in the kinky smoothness of my clean-shaven state. I think she liked to fantasize that I was a very young girl she was seducing, someone who hadn't even had her first period.

    It didn't take her long before she had me coming in her mouth. I lifted my legs in the air to give her better access to my love box and she thanked me by sticking her tongue as deep into my pussy as it could go. My orgasm rose to meet her and she licked my come juice out of my snatch, hungrily, avidly, as if she could never get enough.

    I understood, then, the pleasure I was able to give to my master. I could experience the sweet pleasure of someone else's slavish devotion to me. Mandy derived her satisfaction from giving me orgasms. I was more than happy to give her what she wanted, since it involved only my enjoying myself, and being serviced by a loved one.

    When she came, and she always came at least once whenever we made love, whether or not I even touched her, her pussy juice was thick and creamy, like whipping cream. After the first time I tasted it, I always wanted to lick it up, the taste of it somehow reminded me of my first orgasms as a little girl.

    So Mandy and I were hard on our way to building a lesbian heaven for ourselves to live in, but I knew it would soon have to end. My master would be home any time, now, and I hadn't told Mandy anything about Him. I was afraid she wouldn't understand, that she'd be jealous, that she'd cry.

    I was right. She did all those things.

    We were lying in each other's arms, enjoying the after-glow of our mutual orgasms, the taste of each other still in our mouths, when the phone rang.


    "Good morning, my dear." I recognized His voice immediately.

    "Good morning." I felt my voice and my heart melt into the phone. He was back and wanted me! Mandy stiffened at my side, sensing the threat to her relationship with me.

    "Have you enjoyed your time off?"

    "Yes, Sir, I have very much." Mandy pulled a little away from me when she heard me say "Sir".

    "I'm glad. Please report for work at three o'clock."

    "Yes, Sir, I'll be there."

    He hung up.

    Mandy climbed out of bed and started getting dressed.

    "What's the matter?" I asked her.

    "Nothing's the matter. I have to work out, that's all." She wouldn't look at me.

    "Mandy, you're running away from me the same way you ran away from those boys that first night we were together."

    She turned to me accusingly, angry and hurt. "I can tell what's going on. Don't lie to me. That was a man wasn't it? I could tell by your voice. You can't fool me."

    "Mandy, please, don't go." I wanted her to stay but I couldn't deny what she said. I hated to hurt her, but what could I say?

    "'Mandy, don't go,'" she taunted me. "You just want me to stay so you can laugh at me. I can see you, you and your boyfriend, making fun of the poor little lesbian."

    She headed for the door. I had to chase her out into the hallway while I was still naked and drag her back into my room.

    "Mandy, please," I said after I had gotten her inside, "that was a man, you were right. But he's not my 'boyfriend'. He's my employer. I work for Him part-time, at His house. Sometimes I have to stay over, but that's all. It's just a business relationship."

    She wasn't convinced. She sensed the truth of my devotion to Him, even though I denied it.

    "He's a wonderful man to work for and I admire Him a lot. That's all." I continued the deception hoping to keep her from guessing the truth. Not wanting her to feel hurt or rejected, especially not by me.

    I wasn't able to completely soothe her fears, though, probably because I hated to lie to someone who so obviously loved me. But she did give me a brave little smile when she kissed me good-bye. I sincerely hoped there were some way we could continue to be happy together while I maintained my relationship with my master.

    Because, even though Mandy was able to give me pleasure like I had never before experienced, I didn't feel the deep, bone-melting satisfaction that I felt with my master. I was immediately reminded of that the instant I heard His voice on the phone. I melted with desire for Him and Mandy knew it.


    At three o'clock exactly I rang the bell at the front door of His house. The door buzzed open and I entered. I shut the door behind me and waited in the entry-way, with my suitcase in my hand.

    I had brought a few more things with me this time, mostly books and pens. I wanted to be able to occupy my time if my master did not have other duties for me.

    I hadn't waited more than a few minutes before He came down the stairs, smiling, with His arms outstretched.

    "Jodie, my dear. It's good to see you again." He kissed me on both cheeks.

    "It's wonderful to see you, Sir."

    "You look healthy, you've gotten some color in your cheeks. Are you ready to get back to work?"

    "Yes, Sir," I answered, brightly.

    "Good. Change into your uniform and wait for me in the pleasure room. I'll join you in a few minutes."

    "Yes, Master." I hurried up the stairs to carry out His wishes.

    I ran into the maid's quarters and pulled off all my clothes. I can't describe the feelings that ran through me, they were so paradoxical and seemingly contradictory. I stood clothed in my nakedness. I was less indecent in my skin than I was in quasi-French maid's uniform. But, indecent as it was, I felt comfortable in it. The tighter the waist, the more awkward the heels, the more natural I felt wearing them.

    I dressed as quickly as I could. I inspected the finished product before leaving the room. I added a fresh layer of blood red lipstick to my lips. It made me look even cheaper and more tawdry. I pranced in front of the mirror swinging my hips as I walked. I could pass for a whore in a brothel. I liked the effect, it made my pussy moist.

    I walked down the hall to the pleasure room. I went in as instructed to wait. I was so excited, so eager to get back to work pleasing my master that I could hardly stand still.

    I debated with myself what was the best way to greet Him when He arrived. Should I wait for Him at my "Parade Rest" stance that had started to become standard? Or perhaps I should wait with my back to the door, so that when He came in the first thing I would greet Him with would be my ass.

    The high heels I wore made me lean forward a little bit and pushed my buttocks out provocatively in the back. I knew he'd like to be reminded of the pleasures of my ass, but the possibility of His misinterpreting the gesture made me finally decide against it. I certainly didn't want Him to think I was mooning Him.

    Finally, I knelt on the floor just inside the door. That way, when my master entered, I would be ready to give Him head if He wanted it. I licked my lips and waited. Minutes passed. My knees began to ache. I hoped my master would be pleased with my position.

    I shifted my weight back and forth, from one knee to the other. The carpet and padding eased, but could not eliminate, the hardness of the floor under my knees. I bit my lower lip and grimaced in pain. I wanted to get up and rub some circulation back into my lower legs but I wouldn't allow myself.

    The pain was sending shocks of electricity through my privates. My pussy tingled and itched. I could feel my clit starting to get a little hard. I squeezed my cunt muscles involuntarily. I was close to coming without even touching myself.

    As though in answer to a prayer, the door opened and He came in. He took one step forward and stood with His pants less than an inch from my nose.

    "Hello again, my dear. You look lovely in your uniform."

    "Thank you, Sir."

    "Your show of initiative in this way, by assuming your proper, subservient position, ready to service me, is good, Jodie." He patted my head and scratched me behind the ear, like a pet dog.

    "Thank you, Sir." My heart was pounding, my pulse raced. I had pleased my master. He would reward me. I licked His hand, purring deep in my throat.

    "Be careful not to soil my trousers with your lipstick, my dear. I wouldn't want to have to punish you."

    With a gasp I realized that His prick was getting hard inside His pants, straining toward my mouth. He kept His hand on my head, holding it in place, not letting me pull away.

    "Master, may I use my hands?"

    "Yes, my dear."

    I reached up and unbuckled His belt. My fingers trembled as I unbuttoned His pants and pulled down His zipper. His cock was hard and getting harder – it strained toward me inside His white jockey shorts. I smelled the musky aroma and licked my lips. In a moment I had both His pants and shorts down around His ankles.

    "Master, may I…"

    "Go ahead, Jodie, I like watching you enjoy yourself."

    I gripped His shaft in my right hand and cupped His balls in my left. I pulled the skin slowly up and down His cock while I rubbed His balls, playing with them, rolling them in my fingers.

    I stuck out my tongue and licked my lips. I gripped His shaft hard and stroked it slowly. I squeezed His balls, wanting to almost hurt Him. I wanted to give Him, my beloved master, a taste of the exquisite thrill that just the right amount of pain can give.

    He must have felt it, for a thick, pearly drop of pre-come juice had formed at the head of His cock. I licked it off with the tip of my tongue. It was salty and sour, it made me warm inside. I wanted more.

    I slipped my mouth over His cock and closed my lips just below its head. I rolled my tongue around it. I tried to stick my tongue into the little slit and lick out His come. He took a handful of my hair and pulled my head back, away from His wonderful, sweet dick.

    "Wait, my dear." Slowly and firmly He tugged on my hair, pulling me to my feet. I resisted as much as I could, savoring the sharp, stinging pain in my scalp. "First, I think I'd like to see you get undressed."

    He shoved me toward the center of the room and shut the door behind Him. I lowered my head slightly and gave Him my sexiest pout. I undid the bow on my apron and felt it shimmer to my feet, while He, my adored one, also slipped out of His clothes.

    He was naked by the time I was lowering the zipper on my dress. I stepped out of it slowly, undulating my hips and cupping my breasts.

    He led me to the massage table. He opened it up so that it resembled a large letter "X" and sat me down on the crux of it. He pushed me down on my back and stood between my legs.

    "Did you miss while I was away?" He asked, smiling at me.

    "Of course I did, Master." I felt very self-conscious lying under His gaze like that. I was still wearing my collar and cuffs in addition to my stockings and heels. I looked like a whore in a French brothel. A feeling of abasement, of degradation, tingled through me. My sense of shame stung me like a whip. My pussy was already moist, now it became wet before His eyes.

    "Show me how you comforted yourself in my absence."

    I knew immediately what He wanted. I put my feet up on the table and let my head fall back. I reached both my hands down to my pussy. My upper arms pressed my titties together while I used my long, red fingernails to scratch and pull at my pussy lips, sending drops of juice out of my slit and down the crack of my ass.

    "I would dream of you, Master," I said, "and I would touch myself, like this." I exposed my clitoris and gave it a few brisk rubs, making it a little stiffer and taller. "I would pretend it was your lovely cock touching me, instead of my miserable little fingers."

    "You mean like this?" And, fitting His action to His words, He pressed His velvety hard prick against my pussy lips.

    "Oh yes, Master," I gasped. "It feels even better than I imagined." I put a finger on each side of my clitoris and rubbed hard, making it stand up out of my slit.

    "Go ahead, get yourself off," He said, "let me feel you come." Obligingly, He pushed the head of His cock into my cunt.

    I pulled my cunt lips apart with my left hand while I continued frigging my clit with my right. Thick, gooey drops of pussy juice squirted out of my slit and dripped down the crack of my ass.

    My master kept pushing His cock deeper and deeper into my cunt. Waves of pleasure grew and throbbed in the depths of my cunt. His hardness thrilled and excited me.

    "Are you coming yet?" His voice was tense, His body jerked spasmodically. "Come now, I'm almost there."

    "Oooo, God, no," I gasped, "I'm not ready yet. Please wait for me."

    "Come now, bitch!" He snarled. Suddenly, He pulled His cock out of my pussy and grabbed my knees with both His hands. He pushed my knees up to my chest, exposing my ass to the air. Ferociously, He rammed His cock into my ass.

    "Argh, God, you're hurting me!" I screamed. His penis tore into my rectum, stretching and tearing the tender pink flesh. The little bit of pussy juice that had dripped onto my asshole lubricated Him a little bit, allowing Him entry into my bowels. It wasn't enough to give Him a smooth ride, however but He thrust mercilessly in and out, ignoring my cries of pain.

    "Is this hurting you, my dear?" He asked, without stopping His fucking.

    "Oh, aahhrrgg, yes, Master." Tears welled up in my eyes.

    "What do you say, then, bitch?"

    "Thank you, Master, thank you." I thrashed my head from side to side. "Hurt me more. Hurt me good, beloved Master."

    He pressed my knees against my breasts. I could hardly breathe. I frigged my clit furiously. My orgasm grew and grew, bubbling hot and urgent in my loins.

    "Please," I gasped, "I'm with you now! Give me your come, my dearest. Let me feel your pleasure inside me."

    He jammed His cock deep into my ass. It throbbed and pulsed. I felt the warm, soothing come spurt and fill my rectum as I let go with my own shuddering, gasping climax.

    "Fuck me, ream me, hurt me, Master." I was nearly delirious with pleasure. "I shall be yours forever."

    He didn't stop there. He had me frig myself to orgasm again and again while He watched. Three more times, when I had succeeded in exciting Him, He gave me the pleasure of His cock in my ass. I began to want it there more than in my pussy.


    Days of pleasure swam together blending into an endless stream of orgasms, punctuated only by hours of foreplay. Eventually I dragged myself back to objective reality enough to register for my summer school class and buy my books.

    I can't adequately describe the feeling of unreality that pervaded my excursion from Bel Air back to my former world of school and students my own age. First of all, my knees were constantly weak, as if I might faint at any moment. I seemed to be looking down on myself from a height above my head. I was observing as much as I was participating in my life. None of it seemed to matter a great deal.

    I felt a sense of lack of memory, as if I had forgotten something, something that was right in front of me but I couldn't think of what it was. A thrill of panic thrummed under every breath, under each mundane action. Something important was slipping past me, it was within my reach and I couldn't even see it, much less catch it.

    "Hi, you're Jodie, aren't you?"

    I was walking from the bookstore back to the dormitory. I wanted to pick up some more clothes so I would have some variety for classes back at my master's house, so I could spend even more time there. I was wondering if I would be able to find time to study between orgasms when the voice came over my shoulder and startled me back to campus and college life.

    "Yes." I turned. The boy was one I recognized but I couldn't think of his name. "I know you, don't I? You're…"

    "Art, Arthur Clark. We were in calculus together last semester." His smile was shy and gentle. He reminded me of little puppy.

    "I remember you," I said, "you sat across the room from me."

    "That's right, I was the one that stared at you day after day."

    I felt my cheeks turn red. I was surprised and pleased that I could still respond to people so seemingly naturally. "Why didn't talk to me instead of just staring?" To my surprise, I found myself wanting to flirt with him.

    "You were always walking with that fellow Brad. I didn't want to interfere."

    "What made you decide to talk to me now?" I fluttered my eyelashes and tried my best to look demure.

    "You're not with Brad for one thing, and besides…" he hesitated.


    "I don't know. There's something different about you, now. You're not the same as you were last semester."

    "How do you mean, different?"

    "Sort of dreamy. You were always so intense last year, as if everything you did was for keeps. Now, you look sort of relaxed, as though you were playing a game."

    "I… I've gotten a job," I said.

    "It's had quite an effect on you." He looked at me affectionately. "Is your job connected with your major?"

    "No, not at all." I wanted to change the subject. My position with my master was too personal for me to discuss it with anyone. "But it is very demanding. I guess the change you see in me is the result of hard work."

    "Well, hard work certainly seems to agree with you," he said, "you're radiant."

    "Thank you."

    We were nearing the dormitories. The air between us was becoming charged with sexual energy. The simple fact of his youthful virility elicited a sympathetic response in my genitals. I pressed my thighs together as we walked, wondering if I should let him seduce me.

    Would my master allow me to have other lovers? We had never discussed it. We never discussed anything. My master treated me like property, and I felt fulfilled by it.

    It made no sense to me, this relationship that I had developed with a man whose name I did not even know. It was as though He wasn't a person, He was a force, He was the personification of authority, He was to be adored and obeyed, not understood. My common sense rebelled at the demeaning nature of my subservience to Him, but I couldn't help but feel a thrill of pleasure at the mere thought of my beloved master. I started daydreaming about the thrill of excitement I would feel when my master wanted to punish me.

    "Jodie, are you all right?"

    "What? Oh…" He brought me back to the present. I shook my head, trying to clear it. "You had a funny look on your face, kind of hypnotized looking."

    "I'm sorry," I said, "I must have drifted off. I've been working hard, as I said."

    "Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?" he asked.

    "No, thank you," I was torn, I wanted to say yes but my first response was no, as if I didn't have the right to offer myself to anyone without my master's permission. "I'd like to but I have to go back to my job tonight."

    "Sure, I understand."

    "Honestly, Art, we'll get together another time, I promise." I hoped I was telling him the truth. I liked him.


    After dinner that night, my master called me into His bedroom. He was dressing to go out.

    "I'll be back later this evening, my dear," He said.

    "I'll wait up for you," I said.

    "That will not be necessary, my dear. Will you be able to amuse yourself while I'm out?" He stroked my hair and ran His fingertips along the line of my jaw. He tapped my chin gently.

    I felt the power in His hand. It was strong and vibrant, held in check by His will. I wondered if I would feel it unleashed. My pussy itched when I thought of Him slapping my face, or my bottom.

    "Yes, Sir, I'll be fine." All my speculation of that afternoon was forgotten. It was as though His influence obliterated all other thoughts. I could only think of how I'd greet Him on His return. I avoided all thought of His absence.

    He was cool and elegant in His cream colored flannel suit. His tan skin and dark hair contrasted handsomely with the soft fabric.

    He told me nothing except that He was leaving and would return. He looked at me steadily. His eyes were unreadable, their lids concealed His intentions under their lazy glance. I saw I was left to my own devises.

    I managed to spend an hour preparing for my first class which was coming up in two days. Fortunately, I had no assignment to complete, my mind continually wandered. I couldn't quite bridge my two realities. They tugged me in opposite directions, independence-subservience, self-assertion-self-debasement, and on and on. I tumbled through vast volumes of doubt and uncertainty.

    I decided to take a shower in order to be ready for His return, should He want to use me for His pleasure. I noticed it was time to shave my pussy again, the pubic hairs were growing like whiskers around the lips. I scratched myself there, kind of like a cat would, it felt good.

    I turned the water on full and stepped into the steamy spray. Then I shut off the water and covered myself with thick foamy suds, using a big loofa sponge to rub in almond oil and peppermint soap. I completely covered my body with the slippery, creamy soap suds.

    Then I took a new razor and shaved my entire body. From neck to ankles, every square inch of skin was put to the double-edged blade and shaved smooth as a baby's bottom.

    I thought about shaving my head as well. I wondered if my master would like that, if He would appreciate my voluntary subjugation. I'm sure He would, I'm sure he'd like to see me temporarily disfigure myself for Him.

    I tried to go to bed, to just not think about anything. I powdered myself and pulled my hair back in a pony-tail. I climbed between clean linen sheets but could not close my eyes. I craved some contact, some indication of direction. Should I give myself fully to my master, or should I develop my independent self? Could I even make a decision? Truly, it felt like I had no choice other than to submit completely to the strong, pervasive domination of my master.

    I touched my pussy gently when I thought of Him. I dreamed of His arms, His lips, His long, strong penis. Around ten o'clock I started feeling restless. I knew I would have to resolve my ambivalence some time soon, but not now. Now I wanted to fuck Him and get fucked by Him.

    I thought I'd go to the pleasure room and tie myself to the leather massage table. The wrist and ankle restraints attached to each of the chromium-plated legs were quite inviting. I'd feel ever so secure spread-eagled up on that table, open and vulnerable my master's whims.

    But He might not come to the pleasure room. I'd be tied up, alone, naked and cold all night. The prospect titillated me a little, but I decided it wouldn't be worth it if He didn't happen to find me in time.

    I wondered if I should wait for Him in His bed. I could get under the covers at the foot of the bed. That way He would see that I was there but wouldn't speak to me. He would get undressed and climb into bed, seeming to ignore my presence completely. He would keep His cock in my mouth all night long, making me suck and drink His come repeatedly.

    Finally, I could stand it no longer. I got up and put on some makeup, just some eyeliner and lipstick. Just enough to accent my full lips, to make myself look cheap and available.

    I took a small red silk pillow from the couch and went to the front door to wait. I knelt on the pillow just to the left of the door, right where my master would step when He returned, my mouth on a level with His crotch, waiting for His presence.

    My knees hurt a little after the first twenty minutes. In a half an hour my lower legs were numb from lack of circulation. My mouth was going dry, I needed a drink of water. I swayed a little, feeling slightly faint from the combination of mild pain and lack of movement.

    Finally, after what seemed an eternity, I heard His car pull into the driveway and my heart beat faster. HE was back! But wait, two doors slammed shut outside. Two sets of feet walked up the steps to the door.

    His key turned in the lock. I wanted to get up and run, hide myself – but I couldn't. Was it that my legs were still asleep, or did I want to stay? Did I want to be punished? Was my masochism getting the better of me? Was it determining my actions now?

    The door opened and my master stepped in. The cool evening air wafted over my heated body and raised goose bumps on every inch of exposed skin. He wasn't alone. The other footsteps belonged to His companion, an attractive woman dressed in evening wear. My master, dressed in His casual summer suit of white flannel, looked warm and relaxed next to the severe dark formality of His companion's attire. I wanted to look at the woman more closely but I couldn't.

    My master stepped forward, He hadn't noticed me kneeling in His path. His pants pressed into my face. What I thought would be a sexy greeting was turning into a major embarrassment. Lipstick smeared from my lips and stained my master's pants, right on His fly.

    He grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled my head back.

    "What am I going to do with you?" He frowned down at me. There was no mirth in His voice, but I detected an evil twinkle in His eye.

    "Who is this… person, darling?" Her voice was sweet, deep, and melodious.

    "This creature aspires to be my servant." He pulled on my hair, bringing tears to my eyes. "But instead of serving me, she has soiled my clothes with her filth!" He released my hair and with that same hand gave me a stinging slap across the cheek.

    The force of the blow knocked me off my knees onto the floor. My face burned and my ears rang, I shook my head, trying to clear it. I heard soft laughter, it must have been her, she sounded pleased and excited.

    "Come with me." He grabbed my hair again and yanked me to my knees. He strode purposefully toward the stairs, dragging me behind Him. I stumbled and fell, banging my shins on the stairs, trying to keep up with Him but not succeeding.

    She followed a few feet behind us, smiling placidly.


    The room was dark and silent. At least one hour, possibly two, had already passed. I was completely alone. The only sound to be heard was the soft rasp of my breath. My eyes were open but no image could be discerned in the pitch blackness. The taste of my own blood lingered on my tongue.

    I was spread-eagled on the X-shaped massage table. My wrists and ankles were tightly secured in the thick, leather restraints. My head and my hips dangled in mid-air, my back arched uncomfortably over the table.

    Distantly, I heard a footstep, it stopped outside. The doorknob clicked, three sides of a rectangle of light outlined themselves, then dazzlingly became the doorway. The image was upside down, because my head was hanging upside down, and in the doorway, silhouetted against the light, was she, looking down on me.

    She closed the door and turned on a small light, casting a dim orange glow on the room. She was naked, as naked as I was. She walked to my side and ran her fingertips over my arms and legs. I think she was admiring the smooth hairlessness of my skin.

    She ran her fingernails lightly over my skin. She scratched my armpits and my crotch, lightly, tickling me, making me squirm on the table.

    "You like this, do you?" There was a no kindness in her voice. "You're a randy little tramp, aren't you?"

    She pinched my nipple with her fingernails, hard. The pain shot through me, waking me out of my dreamy delirium. She dug her nails into the flesh of my breast, there would be purple bruises there tomorrow.

    I gasped with pain, deliciously, squirming my hips.

    The door opened again and I felt my pussy getting moist. It was my master, come to join us and make my pleasure complete. He was nude as we were. His member hung down, long and thick. I thought I saw some wetness on it, as if He had recently come.

    She turned and kissed Him wetly on the mouth. I could see her tongue working. She fondled His penis lovingly, stroked it lightly, showed a familiarity that was lewd and inviting.

    They walked to my head together, she might have been leading Him, it was hard to tell. She stroked His penis with her right hand and placed it in my mouth.

    The familiar musky flavor was ambrosia to me. I loved the taste of His dick in my mouth. It swelled and hardened as I rolled my tongue around and over it. I kept my eyes open. All I could see were His balls, swinging inches from my nose.

    Soon He was completely hard, long and thick. He pumped His hips back and forth, fucking me deep in my throat. I had to breathe through my nose or I would choke.

    Meanwhile, the woman, who was she, anyway, I wondered, the woman stroked and scratched the most private, intimate parts of my body. She pinched and scratched my in my most sensitive spots. She played my senses like a musical instrument.

    "You're a little slut, aren't you? Isn't she, darling?" She addressed my master.

    "She claims to be a student," He replied.

    "Let her speak for herself, darling." Her voice was soft, yet commanding. "Tell us about yourself. What are you?"

    My master pulled His penis out of my mouth and placed it on my face, letting His balls rub against my nose.

    "I'm a student slut," I responded.

    "And a smart-ass, too." She laughed and slapped me on the inside of my thigh. It stung and burned, I wondered if she'd leave a welt. "You like your punishment, don't you, whore?"

    "No, I…aahhrrgg!"

    She grabbed my pussy lip and dug her thumbnail into it, hard. I screamed in pain and tried to wriggle away from her, straining against the leather straps.

    "You like it because you know you deserve it, don't you, pig?"

    "Oh, God, yes! Whatever you say, ah, aahh, aahhrrgghhaa!"

    She built me to a crescendo but kept me from going over the edge. Again and again, she'd pet and stroke me until I thought I'd come, but then she'd hurt me severely, making me scream and writhe with pain.

    My master let me lick His scrotum before sliding His cock into my mouth and down my throat again.

    I thought I could hear her laughing quietly while I was having the most trouble breathing. Usually, when she hit me, it was just a pinch or a slap, but a couple of times it felt like she had at least broken the skin if not a small bone or two. I wondered what scars, if any, she would leave.

    Eventually, after she had worked me into a good sweat, she and my master traded places. She stood over my face, while He amused Himself with my genitals.

    There was something white and creamy oozing out of her pussy. She stood directly over me. She held my neck with both her hands, bringing my mouth up, into contact with her privates. I recognized the taste of my master's come and licked it up eagerly.

    I would have eaten her pussy anyway, and enjoyed it. Her pubic hair was luxuriously long and lustrous, deep red and sweet smelling. Her pussy tips, too, were long and full, swollen with excitement. Tasting my master's delicious musky come along with her tantalizing scent made my head spin and my body throb with excitement.

    As if in response to my unspoken wish, as though He knew my mind perhaps even better than I, my master placed His hands on my thighs. I moaned a little, communicating my excitement to the beautiful woman whose name I did not know, whose pussy tasted so good in my mouth. She jammed her hips harder against my face.

    My master spread my pussy lips apart with His thumbs and inserted the head of His cock into my vagina. With just a few strokes He lubricated His entire shaft and rammed it deep into my cunt. My body shook and writhed on the table.

    He held onto my pussy lips with His fingers, alternately spreading them open and pinching them, sending sharp pangs of excitement through me. He knew what I wanted, He knew how to not just excite me, He knew how to satisfy me.

    "Go ahead and let yourself come, my dear," He said, softly.

    "Mmm, yes, if you say so, darling." She groaned and ground her pussy into my mouth.

    She thought my master was speaking to her. Hah! I knew He meant me. I knew He wanted me to come with Him. He wanted to feel my warm wet pussy juice mixing with His gooey, rich come.

    He built and increased my pleasure, sending wave after wave of excitement through me. I pulled on my restraints for leverage and bucked my hips up and down against Him. He jammed His cock so deep in my cunt He hurt me when He battered the top of my uterus.

    "Ooohhhh, hhmmmmnnngg," I moaned into the woman's cunt.

    "You want me to come, too, slut?" she asked me. "You want to drink my come, you little tramp?"

    "Mm hmm," I grunted in acknowledgement. "Hmm, hmmm, hmmm," I kept on grunting. She came in my mouth at the same time as my master filled my pussy with His come. Between the two of them I don't think I could have stopped myself from coming if I had wanted to. But I didn't want to stop myself. I let myself come as much and as often as I wanted to that night and every night that I lived in my master's house.


    Doctor Grant spent the next two days with my master and me in His house and His bed. She invariably treated me like dirt, enjoying inflicting pain on me and watching me writhe and squirm under her.

    She was also the head of the romance language department at UCLA, that's why I called her "Doctor" and "Ma'am". I wondered why my master had brought her home with Him. What was His motive in bringing home this woman who could help me so much in my schoolwork?

    I pondered that and similar questions when I was relaxing between orgasms, which wasn't often. For almost every moment of those two days Dr. Grant and my master kept me constantly busy with one or both of their private parts.

    My favorite came after we were done in the pleasure room. We all took a shower together and when we were done we covered ourselves and each other with olive oil. Then the three of us lay on a plastic sheet on the floor. I squirmed around over and between the two of them, tickling and titillating them with my hands and mouth.

    At one point I was upside down between them, sucking my master's beautiful penis while He nibbled on my clitoris. Dr. Grant was pressed up against my back, her pussy rubbing up against the back of my head and her breasts squashed into my back.

    She was kissing and biting my ass. Her tongue left a trail of moisture circling my buttocks and up into the crack of my ass. She teased my rectum with the tip of her tongue, I came for her.

    She and my master took turns licking my come juice out of my smoothly shaved cunt. Pressed between them as I was, I felt deliciously confined, as restricted as I had been on the table, but held by flesh instead of straps. I loved being trapped by their bodies with my master's cock in my mouth, like an air hose or a lifeline to the realm of the pleasures of the senses.

    Later the next day, after we had all slept, rested, and cleaned ourselves, Dr. Grant climbed on top of me for some sixty-nine when my master stuck His cock up her cunt from behind. I alternated sucking her clit and licking His balls until both they and I had all come.

    That night I was under the covers in bed with them, servicing first one then the other I was drifting into a deep, lazy dream of sensuality from which I never wanted to awaken.


    I was forced awake, however, when Dr. Grant asked me to leave my master to go with her.

    "I know what you want, and need," she said, "you'll be happy with me."

    "I'd have to ask my master's permission first, Dr. Grant."

    "He'll probably be glad to get rid of you, or at least be willing to lend you to me," she mused while absently playing with my breast. "We'll ask Him. I have a special treat at home that I'd like to share with you."

    I shuddered in anticipation. A special treat from her would probably involve permanent scarring. The only thing that had so far kept her from seriously maiming me was the moderating influence of my master. Without Him there to restrain her she might try to use a red-hot poker for a dildoe on me. Spending time alone with her was a pastime I wished to avoid.

    She hooked my rhinestone dog collar around my neck and led me downstairs to my master's study. He was at His desk, working, when she walked in unannounced, trailing me behind her on my leash.

    "Darling," she began, peremptorily, "why don't you give this Jodie creature to tram for you? You'll like her so much better when I'm done."

    "Give her to you?" My heart stood still. Would He give me away? He didn't sound pleased with the idea. I stole a glance at Him. His brows were knitted.

    "Would you like that, Jodie dear?" He asked me.

    I didn't say anything, I just looked down at my feet.

    "Jodie, come to me." He patted His knee, beckoning me like a dog.

    I ran to Him and knelt at His feet, resting my head on His thigh.

    "Would you rather stay here, with me?" He asked, patting my head.

    In response I petted and kissed His crotch, feeling His member grow rigid within His pants.

    "Shall I take that for a yes, my dear?" He laughed.

    "Yes, please," I said, unzipping His fly.

    "Not now, my dear." He stopped my hand from undoing His pants. "Dr. Grant, you seem to have upset my employee."

    "Your little tart, you mean," she sneered. "You spoil her. I could train her properly fulfill her station in life."

    "I'm sorry, darling," and there was sadness in His voice, "we seem to have reached an impasse with Jodie, here."

    She stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. I clung, naked and trembling, to my master's knee.

    "I'm sorry, my dear," He said, gently stroking my hair, "I seriously misjudged the good doctor's intensions. I had thought that a personal relationship with her might benefit your scholastic career. I fear I may have done you more harm than good. If so, we may have to find some way for me to make it up to you."


    She left shortly after that. I was still at my master's feet, under His desk while He worked, when I heard an automobile arrive and the front door open and close. When the car left again I heaved a sigh of relief.

    "She's gone now, are you happy?" He asked.

    "Yes, Master. She frightened me."

    "There's a quilt in that chest, spread it on the floor."

    He got undressed as I spread the quilt. Then He lay down in the center of it.

    "Show me how happy you are," He commanded.

    I immediately knelt at His side and took His lovely long cock into my mouth. I had been wanting to suck it ever since entering the room but He had kept me waiting. Now I was able to lick and play with it to my heart's content.

    I licked up one side and down the other. I put the head in my mouth and rolled my tongue around it, feeling it throb and pulsate hungrily. Then I moved down and licked His balls, one at a time, nibbling gently on His scrotum.

    At the same time I stroked His shaft up and down, making Him moan and squirm with pleasure. He had never before given me so much freedom in arousing Him and I didn't want to disappoint Him.

    I got up and knelt over Him, straddling His hips. I held His cock in my right hand and with the first two fingers of my left hand I spread my pussy lips apart.

    I rubbed the tip of His cock against my clitoris. It got stiff and hard immediately. I looked at my master's face. He was smiling at me peacefully. I knew no matter what trouble Dr. Grant might try to make for me, my master and I would find a way out of it.

    I sat back on my heels and let His cock slide into my vagina. I was already wet and ready for Him. He slid in without any difficulty, completely filling my pussy. It felt so good, having Him there, where He seemed to belong, that I had to stop and catch my breath.

    My master put His hands behind His head, I think so He could see me better, but otherwise didn't move at all.

    It made me all tingly and kinky feeling to think of putting on a show for Him, so I gave Him as good a show as I could.

    I rubbed my breasts and pinched my nipples lasciviously, while I bounced up and down on His cock. I pressed down, stretching my pussy to the limit, tilling myself with His stiffness. All the while I frigged my clit, rubbing and tweaking it, making it stick out from the front of my slit, like a little miniature penis that I was masturbating while He watched.

    "I'm coming now, Master," I gasped, "can you come with me?"

    For an answer He pressed upwards with His hips, piercing me yet deeper with His maleness.

    I ground down onto Him and bounced up and down. My breasts and ass shook like jello. "Please, aahh, aaahhh, come NOW! PLEASE!" My orgasm started breaking, over me, wave after wave of liquid ecstasy flowing up and down through my body.

    My master grabbed me by the hips and held me down tightly on His cock. I felt Him let one gooey squirt of come erupt from His cock and soothe the swollen walls of my cunt.

    Before He finished coming, however, He picked me up and rammed me back down, this time sending His cock deep into my ass, filling and fucking my bowels.

    "Oh! AH! Aahhrrgg!" Sweat beaded on my forehead, my clit got even bigger and more sensitive, I frigged it mercilessly. "COME NOW! Please, Master, please! Oh, oohh, ooohhh, aaaahhhh, hhnnggg." I gasped and thrashed myself back and forth until I felt Him stiffen and then unload Himself into my bowels.

    His cock grew and pulsed, throbbing His thick gooey come into my ass. I fell forward onto His chest, gasping and moaning, sobbing my pleasure over and over, wanting never to stop, never to have to leave this paradise of sensuality.


    "Would you like to live here in my house with me?"

    "Oh, yes, Master, if you'll have me." Two more days had passed since Dr. Grant had left my master's house. Since that time my master had given me further instruction in the joys of anal intercourse. He determined that I was becoming sufficiently expert in oral sex to be able to expand my horizons, (and, incidentally, my anus), and receive His pleasure rod in my nether orifice on a regular basis.

    Although I derived a great deal of masochistic enjoyment from judiciously administered doses of pain, I found that dry-ass butt-fucking was simply too unpleasant a sensation to be able to withstand it on a regular basis. Now my master allowed me to keep a quantity of K-Y jelly in my rectum so as to be ready for Him in case He should grace me with the pleasure of an ass-reaming. I enjoyed the cool, gooey sensation I got when inserting it into my rectum. I would slip my finger in and out several times, just to remind myself of the lovely feeling of my master's cock, fucking me there.

    When this conversation took place we were lying in bed together. We had just woken up a few minutes earlier and I had just finished giving my master His early-morning blow-job. His come was still fresh and warm on my tongue.

    "Since you've been here for a few weeks already, and since I've had to seriously discipline you on only two occasions, I think we can take a chance and try you out as a live-in maid." He always talked like that, pompous and self-important, but I didn't mind. I was willing to forgive Him many things, in light of His wonderful handling of me.

    "Thank you again, Master," I said. "It seems I'm always thanking you for one thing or another. I hope you don't mind my sounding like a broken record."

    "It's all right, my dear." He stroked my hair and scratched me lightly behind the ear. "You're still a little unsure of yourself. You still have some adjusting to do, I understand."

    "My summer school class ends in two weeks, Master, then I'll have to register for a full class schedule for the fall. That won't interfere with my working for you will it?"

    "I don't think so. I'm sure we can find time to let you attend class and do your homework without neglecting your duties here, don't you?"

    "Oh, yes, I'm sure of it." I wrapped my arms around His waist and kissed His penis up and down, using just my lips, the way a little girl would kiss her daddy.

    "That's enough, Jodie. Now, get up and get dressed. You have a lot to do before I leave." He swatted me playfully on the behind and sent me back to my room.

    Once there, I showered and dressed quickly in my standard black-and-white: heels, hose, garters, and uniform in black; collar, cuffs, and apron in white. I gave my butt a fresh squirt of K-Y jelly and examined the finished product in the mirror.

    There was no question in my mind that I was looking healthier and happier than ever before in my life. My new regime of service and discipline was agreeing with me profoundly. My cheeks, (those on my bottom as well as those on my face), had a rosy glow to them and my eyes sparkled with clarity and aliveness. There was a spring in my step and I woke up each morning with new energy and enthusiasm.

    The door opened and He entered the room.

    "Ah, Jodie, you look marvelous in your uniform," He said. "It really does suit you, don't you think?"

    "Yes, it does," I answered.

    "I'm glad you're fitting in so well. I will miss you while I'm away."

    "Will you be gone long?"

    "Just two days, but what will you do while I'm gone? Would you like to go home or would you prefer staying here?"

    "I… I'd like to stay here, Master. Would that be all right?"

    "But what would you do, my dear? You will have no one to keep you company."

    "I feel so safe here, so secure. I'm afraid if I leave something will happen… I don't know… I'll get lost, or you'll find someone else. Please, Master, just let me stay."

    "There, there, my dear," He patted my arm reassuringly, "you may stay if you wish. However, the cleaners will be here tomorrow and I'm afraid they would not understand our arrangement. Do you comprehend?"

    I nodded my head.

    "So, it would better if they were not to see you, yes?"

    "Yes, Sir."

    "So you will spend all of tomorrow in the pleasure room."

    "Yes, Master. I understand."


    He left that afternoon after packing some clothes and His papers from His office. I said good-bye to Him at the front door and He kissed me on the mouth. I was too thrilled for words. He had never kissed me before. I took it as a gesture of acceptance as well as affection. My life and relationship with Him were both looking up.

    I spent the rest of the day in my room, preparing my French homework. The irony of my studying the French language at the same time that my master was giving me such painstaking instruction in French love was not lost on me.

    That night I made myself a light supper in the massive downstairs kitchen. Just a little salad and cold cuts was all I could eat. As happy as I was living in my master's house, I nevertheless felt a little intimidated being in it alone. It was so big, so forbidding, I was afraid of breaking or spoiling something by accident.

    I quickly retreated back up to my own little quarters. I felt safe and secure there. I felt as though they were my own home, my own little nest. I got undressed and snuggled down in my bed to watch a little television before drifting off to sleep. I was as happy as I'd ever been.


    The next morning I got up with the sun. Bright, clear rays of sunshine were slanting into the room, the clock said six-thirty and I felt marvelous. I yawned, stretched and jumped out of bed. I pulled a soft silk robe over my shoulders and skipped down the stairs to fix myself some coffee and cereal for breakfast.

    The house seemed less intimidating in the daytime, more manageable. I munched a bowl of cold cereal while the coffee was brewing. Absently, my hand cupped my breast and tweaked my nipple while late.

    My new-found sexual freedom was a revelation to me. I had always enjoyed sex before, but it was like dessert, something special that I gave myself only occasionally. Now, under the tutelage of my new master, sexual pleasure was quickly turning into the main course of my life's banquet. I was becoming a hedonist, a libertine and I liked it. It was completely against all my training.

    Like most girls my age I had been taught that sex was something dangerous and dirty. If you did it too much you either got pregnant, venereal disease, or, at the very least, a bad reputation. This new freedom my master had given me was intoxicating to me. I wondered if, as it seemed, He was willing to let me fully explore this new freedom, or if He wanted to fully control me.

    I went to the front door and retrieved the morning paper from the stoop. I peeked out through the peep-hole before opening the door. I was still naked and didn't want anyone to see me. There was no one in sight. I brought it back in and was just sitting down to read it over my second cup of coffee when a sudden noise made me freeze.

    I listened carefully. An automobile was pulling into the driveway. I looked out the window. Of course! It was the cleaning crew. He told me they were coming that day, I just hadn't expected them to be so early. I ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs, just as they were coming through the back door.

    I ran to the pleasure room and locked myself in. Leaning against the door I tried to catch my breath and be completely silent. My pulse was racing. I don't know why I was so scared. I had every right to be there. I belonged in that house as much as or even more than they did. Nevertheless, my knees were shaking as if I were a thief.

    Gradually I calmed myself down. I decided to try to distract myself until the cleaners left. Unfortunately, there were no books in the pleasure room, only some magazines.

    I sat down in the armchair and leafed through the magazines. I had never seen anything like them before. There was no text, only pictures. They showed men and women, mostly women, engaged in love-making. They were doing things I was familiar with, some other things I had only just learned about from my new master, and some other things I had never even imagined.

    In one magazine, beautiful young women were shown making love to one another. I thought about my afternoon with Mandy. I was pleased and relieved that my master apparently enjoyed seeing women loving one another. I wondered if Mandy would like to come for a visit, probably not. I wondered if He knew any women like Mandy, probably.

    A second magazine had pictures of what I would call "straight" sex, men and women exploring each other's bodies in every conceivable way, with their mouths, with their genitals, everything. I had never considered feet to be particularly erotic, but one series of pictures showing a young man kissing and sucking his partner's toes got me very excited. I was intrigued, I wondered how it must feel to have a warm, wet tongue playing in the cracks between my toes. In the final picture of that particular series, we were shown the woman masturbating the man with her feet. There was no mistaking the look of pleasure on her face as she manipulated, (podipulated?), him to orgasm. There was equally no mistaking his obvious pleasure because the camera had caught him in mid-ejaculation.

    Another magazine had pictures of other women, these were not so pretty as the first two. In fact, they looked like what I imagined whores and prostitutes must look like, tired and uninterested in what, to anyone else, would be either fascinating or disgusting. I was torn between the two emotions. The women were, how can I describe it, making love to animals. I wanted to put the magazine down, tear it up, burn it, anything, but I could not. I was held in awe. How could anyone do such a thing? What looked natural and exciting between two women, or between a man and a woman, in this context was repulsive, and exciting, nevertheless. I was horrified at my fascination with this perversion.


    I put the magazine down and went to the window, wanting to clear my mind. Outside, it was clear summer day in Southern California. I opened the window and drank in the cool morning air. Goosebumps prickled on my skin and I crossed my arms over my breasts. Birds sang their sweet serenade oblivious to civilization and its discontents and uncertainties. I leaned back against the window frame, enjoying the sun and air on my skin and face.

    My mind drifted back to morality, what is perversion? How much is too much? What is normal? If I had already drifted this far into the realm of the senses, what was my destination? When and where would I stop? Would I one day enjoy what I now despised?

    I tried to will my consciousness to drift out of my body. I wanted to fly away with the birds, to have no thought but to live my life with no control, no thought, no judgment. I closed my eyes and concentrated my attention on the feel of the sun on my skin. I relaxed into the nurturing warmth of it. I heard my breath sighing in my ears, the wind rustled the trees. I let my vocal chords hum with my breath.

    Another humming crept into my consciousness without my awareness, a soft, steady, droning hum. Gradually it increased in volume until I became aware of it as an intrusion. Simultaneously I had the sensation of being watched. I felt someone's eyes on me.

    I opened mine slowly. I peered through the narrow slits of my eyelids at the shimmering green lawn before me. Near the house, holding a pair of electric shears, was a young man with dark skin. He was looking directly up at me. I froze there, numb and startled. For some reason, unknown to myself, I was afraid.

    He was just the housekeeper, after all. I was a guest more than an employee, wasn't I? Didn't I have a perfect right to be there? Why was I edging slowly away from the window? Why was he watching me like that? Why, oh, why had I let him see me? Why did I stand in the window?

    I pulled the curtains shut and leaned against the wall, trembling. I was breathing hard, as if I had just run around the block. With shaking knees I walked back to the chair and curled up with my knees to my chest.

    In a few moments I heard the sound that I had dreaded, and expected. Footsteps softly climbed the stairs and padded down the hall. They stopped at my door. The doorknob turned silently. The door rattled softly, telling the intruder that it was locked.

    The turned back and I heard a scratching sound, then a click, then the knob turned again. This time the door opened. He had a key! I knew it must have been him.

    "Go away!" I screamed.

    He jumped into the room and closed the door. At first I thought he was Latino but he had an oriental look about him as well. He was bare-chested and his skin was streaked with dirt. The muscles on his chest and arms shone with sweat.

    "Get out of here or I'll scream!" I said.

    "Scream your head off, no one will hear you." One corner of his mouth turned up in a leering smile. "This room is virtually soundproof."

    "I'll tell your boss, he'll fire you."

    "Tell him what you want, lady. He sent me here."

    "But, but… I'll call the police."

    "No one will believe you."

    He strode directly toward me.

    "What do you want?" I was still curled up in a fetal position and felt the fear that my body reflected.

    "What I want is the only thing you're good for, bitch."

    I got up and ran to the wall, trying to evade his approach. He spread his arms and continued advancing, grinning all the while.

    "Don't try anything," I tried to sound as threatening as I could, "I know Karate."

    He kept on coming at me. I tried to dodge around him to his left but he just reached his arm out and grabbed me, effortlessly, as if this were something he did every day.

    I tried to pull away from him but he just laughed at me. He held me around the waist with his left arm while he grabbed my jaw with his right hand. It was rough and callused, there was dirt under the nails.

    He brought his leering face down over mine and our lips met. The sweet smell of fresh sweat filled my nostrils while he pried my jaw open and forced his tongue into my mouth.

    I was terrified. Was it just sex he wanted? No, he was lying when he said my master had sent him. He lied when he said the police wouldn't believe me. He didn't want to just rape me, he intended to kill me as well, I was sure of it.

    I reached up and dug my nails into in face. I drew down and left four parallel trails of blood from his cheek to his chest.

    He screamed in pain and pushed me back, away from him.

    He touched his cheek, looked at the blood on his hand, looked at me, down on the floor where he had pushed me. He grabbed me by the lapels of my robe and pulled me to my feet. I tried to kick and scratch my way free of him, but to no avail. He balled his fist and punched me, once, in the mouth, hard.

    I tasted blood. Pain shot through my head and took all my strength away. I looked at him in horror. He was grinning again.

    "So the bitch likes it rough," he said. He hit me again, not as hard this time but in the same place. It hurt even more. My knees gave way completely and I collapsed on the floor at his feet.

    He reached into his pocket and took out a six-inch buck knife. He opened the blade and held in his mouth, biting on the blade like a grinning pirate.

    He opened his pants and kicked off his shoes, in a moment he was standing over me, naked, the knife in his hand, laughing at me. I could see now he wasn't Latino, he was Polynesian. Almost six feet tall, with muscles like a body builder, he was a good-looking boy and under other circumstances I would have enjoyed getting to know him, maybe even this way. But not now, not like this. His cock was hard and stuck straight out, pointing at me like an accusing finger. He looked at me with hate and anger in his eyes and voice. He ran his thumb over the blade of his knife.

    "So this is the bitch who looks down on poor honest people working in the garden."

    "No… I…"

    "Shut up!" He reached down and slapped me across the mouth with the back of his hand. "This bitch thinks she's better than other people. She thinks she can order them around. She's not so high and mighty now, is she?"

    "Please… don't hurt me. I was just looking… I didn't…" I felt a trickle of blood and saliva run down my chin.

    "You didn't. You wouldn't. I shouldn't. Fuck you, bitch!"

    He knelt down and touched the knife to my throat. My body went stiff, rigid, as if I had been touched by an electric wire.

    He laughed at my terror, a quiet, monotonous, crazy, keening sound. He pressed the blade against my larynx, the cold, sharp steel pinching my flesh. My breath shook in my lungs and my arms trembled. He pushed me back until I was lying on my back on the floor.

    "Go ahead, bitch, fight me. I like it when they struggle." He laughed a little louder, a little more sanely, I thought.

    He let the point of the knife rest on my throat under its own weight. He drew it down from my throat to my chest. My skin trembled and shook under the cold steel. He traced the inner curves of my breasts. Then he pushed the robe open, exposing my breasts to his leering gaze. I could see the appreciation in his eyes.

    He held the knife more gingerly now. He traced the full roundness of both my titties. He flicked my nipples ever so lightly with just the tip of the knife. A cold, burning sensation, I had to look to make sure he hadn't drawn blood.

    Despite myself, I was beginning to get aroused. My nipples crinkled up and got hard under his wicked play.

    He turned the knife and with a flick of his wrist cut the sash of my robe. He slipped the robe away from my body.

    "Look at the little whore!" he laughed loudly, "the bitch shaves her pussy."

    I pressed my legs together. "You have no right to…"

    "You know what you're gonna get, don't you, bitch?"

    "Please, don't."

    He slapped me again, the pain flashed warm through my head and chest. It started to reach down into my stomach. My blood was salty in my mouth. I licked my lip and tasted more.

    He leaned over me menacingly. He pressed the knife under my chin. I stretched my neck, retreating from the weapon.

    "You're scared, aren't you?"

    I nodded.

    "Think you can get away from me?"

    I shook my head slightly, trying to move as little as I could with the knife still pressed under my chin.

    "What if I didn't have this knife?" He took it away and laid it on the floor next to my head.

    I breathed a little easier, but not much. It was still right there where he could reach it. As if reading my mind he pushed the knife across the carpet, sending it eight feet away. One of us could lunge for it and get their before the other. He was toying with me.

    "Go on, get up," he said.

    I got on my knees next to him. The robe was an encumbrance so I let it fall from my shoulders. My pale skin contrasted sharply with his.

    "If you had the knife, what would you do? Would you cut me?" He said it mockingly, as if I were incapable of such a thing.

    I looked at him. Maybe I would cut him, I thought. He has no right to terrorize me. He should know what it feels like to be scared.

    "Go on, I'll give you a head start."

    He was looking me up and down, imagining fucking me. When I saw his eyes drop to my pussy, I lunged for the knife.

    He laughed and grabbed my left arm, twisting it behind my back. I made a fist with my right and landed a solid punch on his eye. His grip on my arm slipped and I made another try for the knife.

    This time he knocked me down with an open-handed chop to the side of the neck. He dragged me back away from the knife and threw himself on top of me.

    I squirmed and twisted under him. He had to hold both my wrists to keep me from scratching and hitting him. I had my legs together and wouldn't let him get his knees between mine. I started feeling cocky, like maybe I could take this bozo. I brought my leg up sharply and kneed him in the balls.

    He doubled over in pain. I tried to get out from under him again, but couldn't. He was stronger than me. He reared up and gave me a stinging blow to the side of the head. Then he reached down and with his strong right fist, punched me squarely on the pussy!

    The pain exploded all through my body at once. A great red halo enveloped me, paralyzed my body, and filled my senses with ringing, stinging pain.

    He fell on me. I was limp, stunned beneath him. He penetrated me in an instant. With no thought of me or my pleasure, he pushed his prick into me to prove his dominance over me. He didn't even want sex, he just wanted control.

    My pain concentrated itself in my cunt. Its heat warmed my vaginal walls as he pushed his prick into me. I got wet again, against my will. This pig had won. He had beaten me. Now he was using sex to degrade me. I hated him. And at the same time, no matter how much I willed not to, I was getting aroused by him.

    His cock wasn't as long as my master's but it was thicker, and wedge-shaped. The head was only about an inch across at the tip, but the base looked like it was three inches in diameter at least, if not four.

    My cunt was still sore from his punch, the humiliation of having him jerk himself off in me, just using me like an object, sent burning waves of shame through me to mix with the pain. And both of them combined with sensation of his cock sliding in and out of my cunt, got my orgasm started.

    I couldn't stand the added humiliation of having him know I was enjoying him, so I took my pleasure and turned it into struggles. I fought and twisted under him. He held my arms and laughed at me.

    "Fight all you want, bitch. I like the way you move."

    I twisted and pulled back and forth. Each movement forced his cock in and out of my cunt. I couldn't disguise the hot wet pussy juice that was flowing from my cunt all over his cock.

    He pressed further in, stretching my pussy lips apart. I pulled away, almost dislodging him. He thrust in. He put all his weight on my chest to hold me still. He shoved himself all the way in me. His cock stretched my pussy lips painfully. Tears formed in my eyes.

    He pumped in and out, hard, fast, insistent. I turned my head to one side and started crying. Sobbing in great gasps, tears splashing on my cheeks, wailing my humiliation to the world.

    His cock throbbed and spurted, filling my cunt with his hot, creamy come. I sobbed and moaned and let my own orgasm flow through me at the same time. I was relieved, embarrassed, appalled, ashamed, filled with satisfaction.

    I was still lying on the floor, crying, when he put on his pants and left the room, locking the door behind him.

    I cleaned myself and the room so there was no trace of him or what he had done to me. First I vacuumed and shampooed the rug. Then I drew a bath for myself in the master bathroom. The huge tub allowed me to thoroughly submerge myself in warm, healing, sudsy water.

    The pain of the rape, the violation, was too deep, too agonizing to be pleasurable. I tried to wrap myself in healing water, to soothe my pain and regroup my forces.

    My tears ran down my race and into the water. I sobbed uncontrollably, abandoning myself to the mind-numbing agony of my humiliation. I sank beneath the surface and contemplated drowning. I doubted that I could drown then, I was too angry.


    "How are you, my dear?"

    "Very well, thank you, Sir." I curtsied for Him in my dress black uniform. I had gone to great pains to do my hair and make-up just right. I wanted just the right blend of innocence and lewdness with which to greet Him on His return. "Welcome home."

    "How did you spend your time while I was away, my dear?" He asked.

    "I did some homework, and I did some housework," I said. I was following behind Him into the living room, carrying His jacket and briefcase. These I took to the closet, from which I got His slippers and went to Him where He sat in His easy chair.

    "That's nice, my dear." He was looking through His mail and giving me hardly any of His attention.

    I took His shoes off His feet and kissed His toes before covering them with His slippers. "I met your gardener as well."

    He looked down at me. I had His attention now. "How did you happen to meet Kimo? I thought you were going to remain in your room."

    "I was in the pleasure room when He came in after me. He had a key."

    "He did what?" He looked intense, but not surprised or upset. Yes, I thought, He might have orchestrated the entire incident. He might even have video-taped the entire episode and already reviewed it before seeing me. He was capable of anything, I thought.

    "Sir, do you remember," I said, changing the subject slightly, "when Dr. Grant offered to teach me greater discipline?" I took His shoes to the closet and deposited them inside.

    "Yes." He was non-committal.

    "I wonder if she would be interested in performing that same service for Kimo?"

    My master gave me a long, slow, knowing, accepting smile. "She might be, I'll have to ask her."

    "That would be nice," I said dreamily. I knelt at my master's feet and caressed His thigh with my arms. "I might even have another friend who might like Dr. Grant."


    "Yes, I think so," I was drifting off into a haze of sensual fantasy. I rubbed my master's cock gently through His pants, feeling it grow stiff and rigid. "Maybe Dr. Grant will let me learn from her as well. I'd like to be her apprentice, in case I ever have servants of my own that I need to discipline."

    "My dear, you reveal undreamed of depths." He placed my hand on His zipper. "We may have to take you shopping very soon. I think you may need some new outfits, something more… severe… shall we say?"

    I took the hint and undid His pants. His cock sprang forth, long, smooth, and hard. I put the top half of it in my mouth, savoring the taste.

    Yes, I was looking forward to getting together with Dr. Grant again, especially now that we'd be on a more nearly equal basis.

    I was looking forward to introducing her to Mandy. I wondered if they'd hit if off right away. I wondered if Mandy would like the disciplining Dr. Grant was certain to want to give her. Would she submit or would she resist.

    If she fought back, would Mandy overpower Dr. Grant? And if she did, what would happen then?

    Oh, yes, I was looking forward to getting together with Dr. Grant and Mandy, and I was especially looking forward to seeing Kimo again, in circumstances of my design.

    Yes, a new wardrobe was definitely called for. I was learning more about myself by the minute.


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