Training Days, Prologue And Chapters One Through Three free porn video

To my Readers: You will find that this is an extensively edited, revised, and expanded version of the three postings I submitted earlier. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did in writing it. As always, thank you so much for your critical reviews and comments. Please keep it up! It helps me a lot. If you wish, send me an email: [email protected] - Marie Training Days, Prologue From my earliest memories I wished I was born a girl. I loved the feel of the satin edging of my blankets and the warmth of my zippered blanket. I don?t suppose I?ll never know why this is, and as I?ve learned, I?m not so unusual. Little did I know how far I would come in my dreams. During my teen years I regularly wandered through my mother?s lingerie, trying them on for size and loving the texture, its scents of perfume, and the inherent danger of my explorations. I was the shortest and smallest boy in my class ? so much so that some of the boys actually protected me from threats, because it was clear that I couldn?t defend myself. My growth stopped by the time I was sixteen, my height and weight a perfect size 4. My complexion was clear and soft, with only a hint of facial hair, and almost none on the rest of my slim body. I was fascinated with form-fitting clothing, often dreaming of wearing a ballet costume consisting of a pink leotard and tutu which exposed my satin panties as I twirled with the music. I dreamt that I lived in a land of women who took care of me and dressed me in pretty things. As time progressed and I was able to drive myself far enough away from home, I developed the courage to begin buying some clothes of my own, which I carefully hid from prying eyes. As you might imagine, the first was a leotard. It fit me perfectly, with a scoop neckline and long sleeves. I wore it often under my clothes, careful to keep it hidden, but also excited at the prospects of discovery. Maybe then I would meet someone who would accept me. I soon wished I had also purchased some tights along with the leotard and was upset with myself that I hadn?t done it earlier. I had to screw up the courage once again, went to the same store, and asked the same woman, now for some tights. The store was dark, with a long counter displaying dancer?s accessories, make-up, and shoes. On the wall facing the counter were rows of leotards and dancing costumes, some shiny with satin, some particularly feminine, with lacy ribbons that wrapped around the wearer, enhancing her bust line with its definition. The lady?s faint smile told me that she knew my dilemma and luckily, she didn?t seem to mind. She helped me find the right tights that fit me and matched my leotard. I paid and left the store, wishing all the while that she might have invited me further into her shop to try on more of those wonderful clothes. At a stoplight I carefully removed them from the bag and their plastic wrapping to feel the softness in my hand. I kept my hand low ? I was afraid other drivers would notice ? and grew hard as I imagined what it was all going to feel like later that night. I graduated from high school, and although I had decent grades, I wasn?t sure what I wanted to do next. As I didn?t have a girlfriend at the time, in the summer after my eighteenth birthday I took a lone bicycle/camping trip up the California coast. I had planned to be gone for a month, but as it turned out, I never returned. I had been pedaling all day along California?s fabulous Highway One, somewhere north of Point Reyes, enjoying the ocean?s breezes and the views of the ocean from the cliffs and beaches. As the day progressed the weather darkened, eventually turning into angry rain clouds that started gushing forth when I was still fifteen miles from my day?s destination, a state park where I planned to set up my tent and take a shower. I pedaled as hard as I could but the wind pushed against me, making it hard to make progress. I was cold, drenched, and tired, anxious to get to the park. Then my rear tire went flat. I shivered while I went about the task of removing the wheel, and was concentrating so much on getting it finished that I didn?t notice the white SUV that pulled up and stopped behind me. I jumped when I heard the woman?s voice, "What a lousy day to get a flat! Could you use some help?" She laughed a little when I instantly stood up, a frightened expression on my face. She was a quite attractive thirty-something, holding a black umbrella above her long blonde hair that softly framed her face. She had a cashmere sweater draped around her shoulders, and wore tight khaki pants with high-topped horse riding boots. Those pants! They had canvas reinforcement inside the thighs and fit tightly to her trim figure. Combined with the boots, she was imposing. She carried herself as the one in charge, unafraid of anything. "Oh, hi. No, I?ll be fine. I?ve almost got it finished," I said. Even as I said it I wondered if I was crazy to refuse her help. My clothes were soaked, my shoes squished water with each step. "I?m sorry if I scared you. I must say, you look pretty miserable and, well, I thought I might be able to help." She turned back to her car, evidently assuming I didn?t wish her company. "No wait! I?m sorry if I wasn?t polite. Thank you for stopping." She turned back, raising her eyebrows and looking at me expectantly. Her eyes bored into me, like they were looking directly into my soul, like she could tell what I liked and didn?t, whatever I might be thinking. I was afraid of what she might see and stammered a little as I said, "I suppose I could use a lift if you have the room. It?s really a pain trying to do this while I?m so cold." I looked up at the thick clouds, water dripping from my chin. "And it doesn?t look like the rain is going to let up anytime soon." She accepted my apology, rather formally, which I thought was a little odd, but just as quickly forgot. She had ample space in her car and its heater warmed me. She had placed a towel in the seat to prevent my clothes from getting her upholstery wet. "My name is Anastasia, by the way." "Mine?s Marvin." The rainfall increased to a torrent, pounding the pavement, rushing across the road in streams carrying brown mud and pebbles from the embankments. She slowed to a crawl to compensate for the poor visibility and the treacherous traction. "You know, Marvin, my house is just up the road, and I don?t feel comfortable driving in this weather. Would you mind if we stopped there? You could warm up and we could wait to see if the rain will stop. And even if it doesn?t, I?ve got a spare bedroom." "I don?t want to impose on you," I said, although I was secretly delighted to save the money of another night?s hotel stay ? I?d already decided that camping was most definitely out for that evening. I?d probably get some free dinner too. "But, I think you?re right. We?d better stop somewhere soon." After a few more miles she pulled off onto an obscure dirt road between some bushes, and after shifting into four-wheel-drive, went through some trees and up to a weathered wrought-iron gate that afforded passage within a high stone wall that stretched out of sight around a hill to the right and into a forest on the left. Uh, oh, I thought. What am I getting into now? I was frightened, the cold from my clothes came back and I started shivering uncontrollably. But why? I asked myself. Don?t be silly. She?s just being very hospitable. She?ll probably introduce me to her husband, and that?ll be that. She pushed a button on the driver?s console and the gate opened, and closed once we were through. This was no mere "house." It was more like a small estate, with an impressive sun-washed residence on top of a rise that looked over a huge expanse of lawn, garden and in the distance, the ocean. Around behind the house to the left was a barn with an attached cottage, where, I supposed, her gardener must live. It was amazing to me that something of this grandeur could be so well concealed from the highway and passersby. She let me into the kitchen and showed me the bathroom. "Take off your clothes," she said, rather abruptly. "I?ll throw them in the washer for you." I hesitated. I didn?t feel at all comfortable. "In there," she said, pointing to the bathroom. I went in, stripped off pants and shirt, and opened the door slightly to hand them to her, concealing myself behind the door. "Marvin," she said. "Your underwear too. It won?t do much good to dry your pants if your underwear is all wet and besides, it?s not as if I haven?t seen underwear before." Again I hesitated. "Now, Marvin," she said. "Don?t make me come in for them." I wondered if she was teasing me with that tone of voice or what? Resigned to my situation, I took everything off, and handed it all to her. Shortly afterward I heard the washer begin filling with water. She knocked on the door, and handed me a pink terrycloth robe through the narrow opening. She said it was the only thing she had and I could wear it while we waited for my clothes to be ready. The robe had white piping around the cuffs and along the hem, and a white heart sewn on the right. It was short; stopping about six inches above my knees. I put it on and realized that I would have to be careful leaning over. Her living room was paneled in knotty pine with a rustic stone fireplace along one side. The room was decorated with impressive leather-covered furniture with brightly colored Indian rugs and heavy iron lamps and fixtures. The ceiling was crisscrossed with large pine beams that formed trusses for the steep-angled ceiling. I sat on the couch with my legs crossed at the knees, sipping my hot chocolate as she stirred the logs in the fireplace. I found that I had to sit upright to keep the robe?s hem from riding too far up my thigh. It was hard to stay focused: the day had exhausted me and with the brandy she added to the chocolate, combined the heat from the fire I found myself nodding off. Although she noticed my condition she seemed to take advantage of it; we talked for what seemed like hours. We talked about everything, where I?d grown up, my family, my plans. The truth was I didn?t really have any plans; no girlfriend, no real ties to anything. At that point in my life all I knew was that I needed to find myself. I noticed once that we only talked about me; I?d learned almost nothing about her. The grandfather clock in her entryway sounded the hour: it was eleven o?clock. She said, "I?ve really enjoyed talking with you, Marvin, but I must say you look rather tired. Let?s get you settled for the night and we?ll see what the weather?s like tomorrow." I followed her up the stairs and down a hall. She inserted a key into a door lock which opened to a nice room that was also paneled in wood. The comforter, sheets, and furniture were all delicate and feminine in pastels of pink, yellow and white. I instantly liked the room and thought ahead to what I might do with myself once I was alone. At the same time I felt odd and not a little embarrassed. I wasn?t supposed to like this and hoped she didn?t notice how much I was. "You can?t very well sleep in your robe," she said. ?My? robe? She opened a drawer and pulled out a short pink flannel nightgown that matched the robe. Its shoulder straps and hem were trimmed in white lace. "I?m afraid this is all I have, but at least it will keep you warm." She handed it to me and although my heart was beating with excitement, I just stood there, the soft gown floating in my hands. "Well, put it on, silly. You don?t want to catch a cold, do you?" I went into the adjoining bathroom and slipped it over my head. The brushed cotton flannel felt cozy against my skin. The skirt was even shorter than the robe. It left me feeling strangely free between my legs. I wrapped its satin ribbons around my back and tied it off around my waist into a bow. I stayed in the bathroom, waiting to hear her leave me alone. "Well, come on out, Marvin. Let?s see what you look like in nightie," she teased. I gingerly stepped out of the bathroom. The gown tented above my crotch, holding the fabric out unnaturally in a bulge. I tried concealing it by bending over slightly, but it didn?t do any good. "I can see you like your nightie," she said, enjoying my predicament. "But, you?re missing something that will help." She opened a drawer in the lingerie chest and after rummaging around, withdrew a pair of pink lycra panties. "Perhaps these would help your modesty." I reddened, embarrassed by my situation, my feminine gown, and my mounting desire to wear whatever else she might provide. "Maybe they would," I said. I took them from her, and carefully pulled them up my legs, after turning my back to her. The tightness of the panties felt good down there and when I let the gown fall back down, the skirt draped neatly all around. "Into bed you go," she said, pulling back the comforter. I sat carefully on the edge and pulled my legs and skirt into bed. "Arms under the blanket," she said smiling, although it felt more like an order. She pulled the blanket up to my chin and tucked it around my shoulders and arms. Then she sat on the edge of the bed and looked directly into my eyes. "So sweet, Marvin. So pretty." I felt snug and warm in the bed watching her as she shut off the light and left the room. She closed the door gently as she left for the night. I started thinking about her, what she had said, but I was too tired for anything. I instantly fell asleep. The following morning I awoke hearing her voice calling from downstairs that breakfast was ready. I was startled at my surroundings but quickly remembered what had transpired the previous day. I slipped into what I now accepted as my robe and slid into some pink slippers I found on the floor. "I?m afraid your clothes were ruined," she said as I entered the breakfast room. "I?d dyed some towels in the washer the other day, and now they?re all a shade of lavender." "That?s okay, I?ll deal with it." I?ve looked worse, I thought. Despite my enjoyment of the previous evening, I felt like I needed to leave. I didn?t know where I was. What was she up to? I thought about just leaving. How far could I get wearing only slippers and a nightgown? The room was more of an alcove, just off the kitchen, with a leaded glass bay window that looked out over the rear garden, filled with blooming flowers that glistened in the morning light. She went on to say that she?d already thrown them on the trash heap, expecting that I had others to wear, but as I was traveling light, I didn?t, and the garbage had already been picked up. My clothes were gone; I wasn?t going anywhere. "No matter," she said. "I?ll find something for you until we can go into town and buy you some more." I forced myself to relax a little, also a little excited at the prospects of what might be coming next. I ate what she gave me which was only a small amount of yoghurt and cottage cheese. She said that was all she had, and after all, it was all I needed, right? I was still hungry but didn?t feel comfortable challenging her hospitality. After a time she told me that her gardener had recently left her employment, and perhaps I might be interested? Now it started to make some sense. Of course, I would, I answered, as it offered an opportunity to live in a nice place while I continued thinking about my future. "That?s it, then. We?ll get you going this afternoon," she said. After breakfast she told me to go back to my room and take a bath. I was surprised a little when she commented that I had such fine hair on my legs that I didn?t need to shave. "Maybe later," she said to her herself. "We?ll see." I took off my nightie and settled into the warm bath water, scented with some floral beads she added. I washed myself carefully, everywhere, especially after she said she was going to inspect me afterwards. This was getting a little too much, I thought, but I did look forward to being clean after so many days on the road. I was surprised to find her in my room when I stepped out of the bathroom. Luckily I had put on my robe. She wrapped my head in a towel, spinning my long hair into the fabric and propping it high on top of my head. Memories of watching my mother and girls in movies came back to me. I felt like an actress, getting ready for her day on the set. The clothes she had spread on the bed were some clean panties, some khaki pants with a zipper in back, and a blouse with buttons on the left side, like a girl?s. I put them on, along with socks that had a little puff ball at the back and some pink tennis shoes. I topped it off with a bright red jacket and followed her onto the grounds. I spent the rest of the day trimming her bushes and mowing her lawn. The days turned into weeks, the weeks into months. Although she drove to town occasionally, I wasn?t allowed to join her, and we never did buy any new clothes. I was steadily introduced to additional levels of feminine dress and cosmetics until from all outward appearances I was a young woman, perhaps a live-in lover of a woman of means. It soon seemed natural that I wore only skirts and dresses. "She wore the pants in the family" probably never described a situation as accurately as ours. We enjoyed each other?s company, spending most evenings together, either talking or sometimes walking along the trails that led to beautiful views of the ocean. She often held my hand or draped her arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer to keep me warm against the cool fog. Although she wasn?t a large woman, she was taller and more robust than I, and her demeanor put her in the superior position in our relationship. One time while we were walking through a small stand of redwood trees her hand slipped within my jacket and cupped over my bra, fondling my budding breast while she kissed me deeply, pushing her tongue into my mouth. I seemed to naturally succumb to her, my arms up and around her neck, assuming the more feminine position of surrender to her lover?s attentions. We stayed like that for several minutes as I felt her undo the buttons of my blouse to reveal my satiny white bra?s lacy cups. She pulled my blouse off my arms and, kissing me again, pushed up my skirt and grabbed the waistband of my panties. She pulled them down to my thighs; I wriggled them off to the ground. She then laid me down on the soft grass, lying on top of me, grinding her pelvis into mine. My legs spread to allow her more complete access to my most private area. She stood up then, took off her boots, unzipped her jeans. She pulled them off and regained her position above me. Slowly we made love, to her beat and under her control. I waited to come after her, and when she rolled onto her back, I nestled into the crook of her arm where she held me while we napped. It wasn?t long after that I was regularly experiencing the satisfaction of her passions in her bedroom. She taught me all about a woman?s body, how to lick and suck her to inflame her passions, how to nibble with my lips to bring her to even higher levels of arousal, and finally, using my fingers, tongue, and lips, how to bring her over the top to a shuddering climax. I took care of the house, the cleaning, cooking, and wash. Once when I was cooking dinner, wearing a short apron to protect my dress, I realized that it didn?t seem so odd that she called me Marie, having said that this name was more appropriate for me. "Just look at yourself. You?re no Marvin now!" I ran and looked in the hall mirror. My hair flowed over my shoulders, delicately framing my face in a gentle wave. My eyebrows were shaped into narrow lines that highlighted my eyes and I was wearing the silver and turquoise earrings she had given me. She was right. Slowly, gently, she continued asserting her control over me, until when we were lounging I was often sitting on the floor at her feet, or when waiting for direction, looking at the ground, avoiding her gaze. She taught me to curtsey for her whenever she entered or left a room, and be a soft plaything for her, like a devoted pet. As if to emphasize this last point, she often had me wear a pink velour bodystocking whose close fit style dictated the presence of a zipper that ran from the base of my neck, between my legs and ended at the V of my cleavage, emphasizing my narrow waist and developing bust line. I was like her devoted kitten that she petted and stroked for my purring and rubbing against her legs. Her own hands knew no bounds when it came to touching me, often rubbing me between my legs, as if I were a girl, pushing the fabric up and into me with her finger. I reacted to this like I truly was for her pleasure, as much for hers as it was for my own. I grew to need her dominance; her direction that I refer to her only as "Mistress," and the myriad outfits she dressed me in for her delight and the demonstration of my subservience and her dominance. And so it was when I heard the lock snap shut on my narrow pink collar. I knew I had taken a huge step: my life was no longer my own. I was her feminine servant and plaything. I reveled in the emotional release of no longer worrying about my future. I was no longer able to decide or direct my fate; I didn?t need to, nor could I even if I wanted. She would decide it for me. Chapter One: Life on the Estate I?d heard of "she-males" and I suppose by any definition I was one. Although by now I had 36C breasts, styled brunette hair, and a softened complexion, I still had functioning equipment downstairs. With all of my body?s facial and other hair removed by electrolysis and my voice at a somewhat higher pitch, I felt I was her girly-girl, and I suppose, a lesbian at that. Although I could see myself being occasionally bisexual, I only wanted to be with females. In fact, what I really wanted was what I had become: a girl whose sole focus was her servitude to the woman she belonged to. My room was immediately adjacent to Mistress?s suite. It had two doors: one that led directly into her bedroom and the other to a rear hallway. Both doors were kept securely locked when I was inside. I did have a window that faced a stand of redwood trees, but the view was obscured by iron bars; I could open it for fresh air but little else. I must admit though, my room was fairly spacious: I had a walk-in closet, a make-up table and chair, and a full bathroom. It was comfortable when I was there, although it was rare that I had time to myself to reflect and relax. For those times I had a bookshelf filled with romance novels featuring hot love scenes, and, some other books by "anonymous," that described the life of those such as myself, dedicated to serving Women. I often wondered if she had read these books herself as a way of giving herself ideas. The thought was both tantalizing and scary: some of these scenes in the books were so humiliating and downright dangerous. Mistress introduced me to her special form of bondage by leading me blindfolded downstairs into the cellar and then through a series of underground tunnels that ended some distance from the house. My hands and elbows were bound behind my back with soft cuffs and I wore a collar that had metal rings dangling and clinking against each other like a wind chime whenever I moved. Her keys jingled in her while she unlocked what sounded like a substantial door which closed with a thud behind us. When she removed my blindfold I found that the room was spacious, containing several barred cells along one side and on the other, a collection of suspension racks and tables with leather and iron implements attached. Gas lamps in sconces flickered on the walls creating undulating shadows on the rough-hewn stone walls and floor. The room was a little musty and I felt cold wearing only a pale yellow sun dress. She opened an iron-barred cell door and prodded me in, her palm pushing my back. The door?s squeak broke the silence of what I learned was called the Corrections Room. She removed my bonds, closed the door loudly against the cage and turned the jailer?s key in the lock. "Little One," she said, using one of her favorite endearments that emphasized my size and position. "It?s time for you to take another step in your journey." She chuckled for a moment then said, "Remove your dress and lingerie, and hand them to me. I want to see you naked in there. Who knows? Maybe this will be your new home." I reached up behind my dress, pulled the zipper down, and shrugged the straps off my shoulders. I stepped out of the skirt and gave it to her. I stood facing her in my bra and panties for a moment, then noticing her impatience, unclasped my bra and shook it off. I pulled my panties down to my ankles, removed them, and handed everything to her through the bars. Now I was fully naked. My hair draped over my shoulders warming them slightly like a thin blanket, but goose bumps covered my skin, pinching my nipples into tender pink points. I watched Mistress slide a padded table into the center of the room. She snapped restraints to its thick wooden legs and unclasped a wide strap on its top, allowing the ends to dangle almost to the floor. After setting a smaller table beside it, she laid out some sort of instruments along with some folded hand towels. She then ran an extension cord from a small metal box to a plug on a wall. I was startled when I heard the sound of a door opening from deep within a shadow at the opposite end of the room. A woman I had never seen before stepped out into the light. Her blond hair was cut short and spiked with gel and she wore a black leather body stocking cinched over her breasts and waist with straps and silver buckles that emphasized her curves. She was larger than Mistress, with broad shoulders and powerful legs. She had that no-nonsense kind of look to her face, but what I couldn?t take my eyes off was the black phallus that strutted firmly from between her legs. "Let?s get her ready," she said, to which Mistress nodded and handed her the key. The woman opened my cell door and pushed me into the corner. I felt crushed, helpless to resist. She clipped a leash to my collar and began pulling me out of the safety of my cell. I was scared to death and pulled against her with all my strength which was nowhere near enough. She came back to me, wrenched my arms behind my back, roughly pushed me to the table and bent me across its top. Mistress helped hold me down by clasping the strap over my back and buckling it tightly into place. The woman pulled my arms into cuffs while Mistress did the same with my ankles. Their silence made the scene doubly frightening. They seemed to be performing a ritual they both knew by heart and experience. When I was completely secured the woman said, "You can scream all you want. No one will hear you, and maybe it will give you some comfort to use your mouth." She massaged one of my butt cheeks with her hand, kneading it like dough. "Nice ass," she said, spanking it lightly. I heard the click of a switch and a humming sound from something on the table. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her retrieve a stool which she brought around behind me and sat down. Again, she kneaded my cheek roughly with her hand. Mistress said, "You see, Marie, each woman who possesses you will add her name to your owner?s list, tattooed on your butt cheeks. Like a service record, we?ll always know your pedigree and can check your references, if you will." She paused a moment, then added, "We can fit about ten names on each side." With that I felt the first stinging pain as the tattoo needle started scribing her name on my left cheek. Its buzzing increased and pulsated as she directed it across my skin, permanently marking me, identifying me as hers. I did scream at least momentarily, but then passed out from the pain and from the terror of the moment. When I came to I was still strapped to the table, but the electrical humming was gone. Mistress and the woman were talking quietly to each other. They looked up when my eyes opened and started walking towards me. Now Mistress also had an erect phallus between her legs. The woman walked to my face and grabbed my hair, forcing my lips onto her shaft. "Lube it up sweetie," she said. "You?ll want it as wet as you can get it." Mistress had come around behind me and pulled my cheeks apart. It was painful where her name had been inscribed. I felt her pushing something into me followed by the cool flow of some thick lubricant. She then entered me, pushing inexorably against my sphincter and natural reluctant reaction to her intrusion. The woman continued pumping her dildo in my mouth as Mistress pushed hers all the way in and slowly began synchronizing the same motion. Both started moaning and gasping as their sexuality was stimulated by the movement and rubbing against their dildoes. All of the pain of the tattoo was forgotten as I relaxed and became one with the moment. As much as I could I opened myself for Mistress? phallus, allowing it to go as deep as possible. I relaxed my throat allowing the woman?s dildo to pass my tongue. The woman came first, breathing heavily. I felt her shudders ripple into my mouth and pass through my body. Shortly after Mistress also came violently, shoving herself deep within me and holding it there while she recovered. Of course, I was left unsatisfied but happy that I had served their will and pleased that with my marking, I was more fully committed than ever before. Chapter Two: Interview with Madame I could tell something was going to happen, I just couldn?t tell what. For a week Mistress had me cleaning her house, carefully attending to every detail. I waxed the parquet floors in the entryway and library and dusted everything, even the molding on the tops and bottoms of the walls. Everything was spotless, straight, and perfectly arranged. Finally, on a Saturday afternoon, she told me that a guest would be visiting that evening, staying for dinner and that the three of us would be actually eating together. By this time I hardly worried about the guest?s finding out about me; I was fairly certain that Mistress would only bring over friends who at least understood her predilections. And if not, what did I care? I would still be my Mistress?s ? it didn?t matter what others might think. I dressed that day in a new ensemble. My waist cincher had straps that Mistress drew between my legs to hold my organ under control and to hold a large pink dildo in place. She locked the straps to the corset and provided me with white satin panties and bra, velvety soft and sensuous against my clean and perfumed skin. Over white stockings and a full slip that fell well above my knees I wore a lime-green sleeveless dress with a tight bodice that fitted my form and curves. My blond hair draped over my shoulders; curled into a feminine style with delicate bangs over my forehead. I was pretty and I knew it. Mistress complemented me and had me help set her mahogany table in the dining room with her finest crystal, china, and golden utensils. The crystal chandelier sparkled like so many diamonds and cast a soft twinkling light on the walls and table. The woman who had administered my tattoos was in the kitchen preparing our dinner. I was surprised when I saw her again, afraid and wondering how and if she might be involved this evening. Like Mistress, she wore pants and a blouse, but Mistress?s choice in clothing bordered on the masculine, with loose-fitting sleeves and cowboy boots on her feet. The doorbell rang, and Mistress directed me, "Go and answer it, Marie." I went and opened the door to a beautiful woman, much taller than me, who looked at me with a direct gaze that left me speechless. "You must be Marie," she said. I nodded, but was tongue-tied, staring her like a doe caught in the headlights. "Well, are you going to let me in?" I opened the door for her, and took her heavy topcoat to the hall closet. It became obvious that she had been there before, as she ended up leading me into the library where she joined Mistress in lively conversation. I sat carefully in a leather chair, keeping my back straight and ankles crossed to keep my short skirt from riding up beyond the tops of my stockings. Neither woman said anything to me, even through dinner, although I was allowed a single glass of champagne, which relaxed my nerves somewhat. But then I had to use the restroom. I widened my eyes at my Mistress, who finally turned and after excusing her interruption said, "What is it Marie?" "Mistress, I need to go to the bathroom," I said. "Then go," she said. "Just come right back." "But?, uh, I can?t." She laughed, "Oh, of course, how could I forget? Come here. I?ll make you ready." I stood beside her chair, where she turned me around to face Madame across the table. She pulled my skirt up in back and lowered my panties to allow access to the lock, and when it was released, pulled my panties back up and patted my bottom with her hand before letting my skirt fall into place. The whole time I watched for Madame?s reaction, which except for a slight smile, was completely immune to my predicament. After dinner we retired to the library where the two enjoyed snifters of cognac. The room was warmed by a crackling fire. Madame had instructed I sit next to her on a couch, which I did, continuing to watch my deportment. Finally, she turned her attention to me. "Well, Marie. Your Mistress has told me a lot about you, and I am happy to see that you are everything she said to expect." "Thank you, Madame," I said. She rested her hand on my leg, just below my skirt. Her thumb and forefinger stroked my stocking, feeling its texture and smoothness. She continued, "You see, Marie, I am the headmistress of a rather special school for girls like you." She squeezed my leg a little more, and then allowed her hand to ascend slowly between my thighs. "There is a market for you among ladies who appreciate, shall we say, obedience and service of girls trained in every way to be their servants." Her fingers began exploring up between my legs. "Spread your legs for her, Marie," Mistress said. I did so, and felt Madame?s fingertips reach the soft skin above my stockings. She played with the garters that held them in place. "And your Mistress has indicated that you might like to attend a school like mine," Madame said. She paused although didn?t wait for my answer. "It?s a decision you mustn?t make lightly, Marie. Once you transfer your ownership to me there is no turning back, no matter how you might object or change your mind. I will be paying your Mistress quite a sum for you and will be investing thousands more before you are graduated." I shivered as her fingers stroked my satin panties and me within it. I started breathing heavily as my excitement built through her attention and the thought of joining her school. My mouth was dry and I moistened my lips with my tongue. "I would like that, Madame. I would like to attend your school. I think that is what I was meant to do? I mean, meant to be. Be of service to a lady, like you." "Indeed, Marie. I will continue to consider your matriculation." She looked kindly at me as she withdrew her hand from under my skirt and straightened it over my legs. "Take off your dress, Marie. I?d like to see more of what I?m buying." I stood before her and unzipped my dress. The hallway door opened followed by the Tattoo Woman, who leaned against the frame to watch, her arms folded across her chest. I trembled as I pushed the sleeves off my arms and carefully pulled the satin bodice over my hips before stepping out of its skirt. Madame came up behind me and fondled my breasts through the soft material of my slip. "You are a pretty one, Marie," she said. "I think I?ll enjoy you tonight." She retrieved a pink Victoria?s Secret package from beside the couch and handed it to me. "Go now and put this on. Then come back and model for us." At the door to the library the Tattoo Woman attached a leash to my collar and pulled me up the stairs. I held the box in front of me while we made our way to my room, which she unlocked and led me inside. "Let me see your bottom, Marie. I like to see my handiwork." She laughed a little as I pulled my panties down and bent over the bed to provide her with an unobstructed view. She traced the letters with her fingernail, pleased with herself, and felt between my legs pushing into my rosebud. "Too bad, I can?t afford you," she sighed, and left me alone in the room. Within the box I found a gauzy lavender babydoll with marabou trim. Further down I found was a pair of thong panties and a transparent lavender dressing gown. After stripping off my remaining clothes and touching up my make-up I slid into the new clothing, delighted at the softness that enveloped me. I felt sexy and naughty, anxious to see their reaction when I returned to the library. That night I was Madame?s paramour, like a harem girl in A Thousand and One Nights, I pleased her in every way, starting off with a coquettish smile and ending as a vixen unleashed. There was no turning back. Chapter Two: The Academy On the morning of what was to be my matriculation at the Academy, Mistress Anastasia provided me with a lacy white dress, with ruffled white panties and bra, a satiny white slip with full petticoats, white waist cincher, frosty stockings, and white pumps. For jewelry she gave me a delightful combination of pearl earrings and single-strand necklace which she said I could keep. As directed, I spent extra time on preening every part of my body: plucking out any stray hairs in my eyebrows or bikini line, douching and lubricating, and applying my make-up. I checked myself carefully in the mirror and teased my bangs across my forehead. I found Mistress in the living room reading the newspaper, waiting to inspect me. She found that one of my stockings wasn?t straight enough, and that I had allowed my lipstick to creep into a corner of my mouth. I fixed both of these while she watched, looking somewhat amused at what I had become. She pulled and spread my skirt just right, and reached up between my legs and pinched me for fun. Then she rang the bell to summon the driver. My first inclination that something was different was the car. For almost a year I hadn?t left the estate where I lived, or rather, she kept me. I should admit that I enjoyed our relationship, finding that it often met many needs I had had for years and some I never knew existed. Punishment in the Correction Room was difficult and painful ? something I found frightening and strived to avoid. But afterwards I knew she was right. I had been wrong, no matter what, and I deserved to be corrected. In fact I needed it, and I did appreciate her attention when it was over. I was hers and proud to be her companion, servant and sometimes, her pretty slave. Her driver pulled the limousine up to the front of her house, its tires crunching on the gravel driveway. I had always loved this sound. It sounded so elegant, like a chariot coach pulled up in front of a castle, waiting to carry the princess to her destination. The sunlight filtered through the trees casting shadows across the lawn. My dress provided a bright contrast to the driver?s black pants, shirt and coat. After I slid onto my seat and spread my skirt, the driver gently held my hair while clipping my collar to a small gold chain that stretched over the top of the seat, and wrapped my wrists in soft fur bracelets that she locked together. I sat upright, from training and to relieve the tension on my collar, my legs crossed at the ankles. I had asked Mistress where we were going that morning, but she had ordered silence. I knew not to object or complain. All she said was that it was time for me to move on to the next stage of my journey. Soon after we were on the road, Mistress blindfolded me and slipped earmuffs over my ears. I quickly became disoriented and had no idea where we were going. It could have been less than twenty miles from Mistress? house, or a hundred. We drove for over two or three hours ? at least it seemed that long ? until I felt the car turning and slowly climbing a small incline. I remembered something about where I had been with my bicycle months earlier and figured I could either be north as far as Mendocino, or maybe we headed south, toward San Francisco. Mistress removed my blindfold and earmuffs, and released my collar and wrists. We were parked in front of a stout wooden gate that provided access within a chain link fence topped with razor wire. The gate was also so high we couldn?t see past it and a tall hedge obscured our view through the fence. I stretched my muscles slightly as a uniformed guard walked to our car from a small building outside the gate. She opened the door and nodded to my Mistress. "She?ll be staying?" "Yes, the complete program. Candace is expecting us," Mistress said. "I?m also here for lunch. I?ll be leaving around 1 o?clock." She handed the guard some papers from her briefcase. That was only a couple of hours from now. She would be leaving? What about me? "Very well Madame." The guard inspected the papers and handed them back. "Alright Marie, step out of the car, she said. I gingerly stepped out and stood in front of her, my arms to my sides. She was an imposing figure; she wore a black uniform, pants and shirt; handcuffs and a full key ring draped from her wide black belt that also held a holster for what looked like a gun. She was at least six inches taller than me. "You?re quite the pretty one," she said. "Thank you," I said, with an automatic curtsey, feeling terribly small and vulnerable, staring at her black shoes, not daring to look her in the eyes. I stood still, while she patted me down. Her hands lingered as she felt over and around my bust, and especially, when she stroked my bottom and pressed her hand through my skirts and felt between my legs. At least she hadn?t raised my skirt. Maybe that wasn?t allowed. All the while, Mistress stood beside the car watching impatiently, hands on her hips. Finally, the guard returned me to the limousine and opened the gate. The driveway curved around a stand of tall redwood trees and then led us to an impressive three-story stone mansion with balustrades and columns, surrounded by manicured lawn, flower beds and trees. In the distance I saw two girls walking hand in hand along a path that followed the edge of the lawn. A woman sat watching them in the shade of a tree. The car slowly made its way and at the end of the driveway, followed a circle that pulled up at white marble steps that led to the stately front door. The driveway circled a stone fountain that sprayed water up at least ten feet, which fell into a round pool, surrounded by ferns and flowers. It was truly one of the most beautiful sights I?d ever seen. Mistress inspected my face and hair, turning my face this way and that, and then led me out of the car and up the steps. A very pretty girl answered the bell. She was wearing a black velvet maid?s uniform with a very short skirt trimmed in white lace. She had long brown hair, styled into a wave that framed her pretty face. Her long legs, covered in sheer black stockings, disappeared within the frothy white petticoat that peaked out from beneath her skirt. I felt my panty restraint growing tighter, preventing what I otherwise often desired. Our footsteps reverberated as the maid led us through the black and white marble-floored entryway into a hallway lined with closed doors on both sides. That hall intersected another where we turned to venture even deeper into the house. Finally we reached a set of double doors which she opened to reveal a walnut-paneled library room, with molded ceilings and a leaded glass window that overlooked the rear lawn and garden. One side of the room was lined with books in a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf which had a wooden ladder to provide access to the books on the upper shelves. In one corner was a couch and comfortable arm chairs in a grouping for visitors. An executive desk and dark brown leather chair stood in front of the window, facing into the room. "Stand here," Mistress said when we neared the couch. "I will let Madame know you have arrived," the maid said softly. As she left the room, she silently closed the doors behind her. My Mistress sat in one of the chairs while I stood, waiting for something, I didn?t know what. The doors opened noisily, a strikingly tall honey-blonde woman wearing black pants and a cream top with long billowing sleeves came in. The woman looked to be about forty or forty- five, beautiful, with a presence that filled the room. There was no doubt who was in charge in this institution. "Anastasia, so good to see you," the woman said, smiling. "You too Candace, it?s been too long," my Mistress replied. They briefly kissed and continued exchanging pleasantries; they knew each other well. I stood, waiting. It was if I wasn?t even there. The maid was directed to serve refreshments, which they enjoyed for several minutes. I stayed standing beside the couch as directed. "I see that you have decided to attend my academy," the woman said, looking over at me. I remained looking at her feet, curtsied, and said, "Yes, Mistress." "You will call me Madame or Headmistress," she said, as walked around me, touching my hair, my dress, straightening it in a few places, "and I will call you Marie or whatever I deem fitting at the time. Come and sit with me on the couch." "Yes, Headmistress." We sat side by side, my skirt fluffed up against her dark pants. "You are a sexy thing," she said, seemingly recalling our night together some weeks back. "You?re even prettier than I remember." "Thank you, Headmistress." I blushed a little, proud to hear her compliments. As before her hand began exploring up between my legs, my skirts riding up her wrist. My hands, which had been crossed in my lap, came apart to give her more room. "Palms on the couch and spread your legs, Marie," she said in a tone I couldn?t resist. I looked at my Mistress, who nodded slightly, indicating I should obey. I did as I was told, and felt Madame?s fingers pressing between my legs, feeling the satin of my panties. "Has she been dildoed recently?" she asked my Mistress. She said, "Of course. I couldn?t hold myself back from this one." Headmistress removed her hand and straightened my skirt. "Marie, your Mistress is leaving you here with me. I am your new owner and this will be your home and boarding-school, so to speak, for the following year, while you are trained and prepared to be a lady?s personal maid-servant. Our clientele consists of wealthy women, mostly executives, who purchase girls like you from me. I have a well-earned reputation with my customers, and I am sure you will contribute to the reputation of my school." She paused for a moment, took a sip of her tea. "If you lapse in your training or become disobedient, you will be corrected and punished appropriately. Punishment escalates with relapses; I suggest you learn your lessons well. Although I believe you will appreciate our training, as you know the choice is out of your hands regardless of your desires or pleading. You will only leave here when you have been purchased by one of my clients." I shivered slightly, feeling cold and alone, like taking to sea for an unknown destination which would always be changing. "Thank you, Headmistress," I said. "I am honored to be accepted into your school." "Excellent, Marie," she said. With that, she pulled a gold tasseled rope behind the couch. A bell sounded from outside in the hallway. The maid came back into the room and curtseyed. "Take Marie and prepare her for indoctrination. Dress her in a tinkerbell uniform and return her to me." "Yes, Headmistress," she said, curtsying again deeply, her shadowy lithe legs crossing tantalizingly with her movement. "Run along now," Headmistress said. I stood and approached the maid, who attached a leash to my collar and led me out of the room and into the hall. She was very pretty, but I couldn?t help but wonder. Was she a graduate or student of this school? Had she always been a ?she?? I followed her down a narrow staircase to a basement level and into a small room with pink walls, white cabinets, and a stainless steel sink. In the center of the room was a gynecological examination chair. "Stand still," she directed. She removed the leash and pulled down the zipper on the back of my dress. I stepped out of it, and took off my slip. I felt a chill, standing beside the chair in my lingerie, but I felt modest enough, while she ran some water in the sink, filling a red rubber bag. "Remove your panties and sit on the chair, Marie." I did as I was told. What else could I do? She helped my feet into the stirrups and buckled my ankles into their holders. She lowered the back of the chair, pivoting me into a more horizontal position. She returned to the sink with the rubber bag that was connected to a hose which ended in a perforated rod, about a half inch in diameter. She hung the bag on a hook above me, and moved between my legs, sitting on a stool. I felt her fingers probing me, pushing some lubricant into my passage. When she pushed the rod into me and turned on the flow, I felt warmth entering me, filling me. Honestly, the cleansing felt good. The water continued flowing to the point where my abdomen started pushing against my waist cincher. I started feeling the familiar cramps building inside. I looked at the bag. Thankfully, it was almost completely collapsed and empty. She removed the rod and immediately replaced it with some kind of plug that prevented me from expelling the fluid. I imagined the mess I would leave and was happy for the protection. She raised me back into a sitting position, unbuckled my ankles and helped me to my feet. I stood unsteadily and carefully followed her into an adjacent bathroom. She told me to sit on the toilet, pull out the plug and relieve myself. Gratefully, I did just that. We repeated the sequence twice more and by the time the last of the soapy water came out, I was clean, through and through. She helped me out of my lingerie, tossed all of my clothing into a waste basket under the sink and after opening a closet door, retrieved what I assumed was my school uniform. She first laced me into a corset, compressing my waist and accentuating my curves. The corset was pink satin with white satin panels along the sides. She gave me some stretchy pink panties, which I pulled up my legs while feeding the corset?s garter tabs under and through the ruffled leg openings. I put on my matching bra; I held my breasts up while she adjusted the shoulder straps. I started to ask her something. She interrupted me saying, "Silence!" She leaned closer and whispered, "You must never, ever, speak unless you are allowed. There are listening devices everywhere and if you are caught you will be punished." My eyes widened and I nodded at her, thankful for her advice. One by one I carefully placed my foot into the pink stockings she gave me and guided them up my legs. After straightening the seam I attached them to the corset?s garters. She lowered a silky slip above my head, with petticoats that hung from my waist down my legs just past the bottom of my panties. The dress was pink satin, tight around the bodice, with a high neck. Its skirt was short. It didn?t completely cover my petticoats which held the skirt out from my legs. She zipped up the back. I heard the click of a small lock at the back of my neck. I couldn?t remove the dress even if I wanted to. She threaded a pink choker beneath my hair and around my neck, pulled it snug and locked it with a loud click. A heart-shaped gold medallion hung from the choker in front. She attached a pink leather leash to my choker and I buckled my feet into a delicate pair of shoes with 3" heels. I was prepared for my introduction to the school. When we returned to the library, Headmistress told me to go stand in the corner, my face to the wall. "Sometimes girls are best seen and not heard. Sometimes it?s better to not even see them," she said. I stood there and listened to them eating lunch and talking about other girls who had gone through the "program." Evidently, my Mistress had prepared and delivered several students to her school, and was much appreciated by the Headmistress for her service. "Remember Missy? She was delightful!" I heard her say, laughing loudly. When they were finished, the maid returned to clear away their dishes. I heard something being rolled into the room behind me. "Turn around, Marie," Headmistress said. "Come over here." She was standing beside a leather-covered bench that was mounted on a raised platform. On the platform I was slightly taller than the women. The maid helped me bend over the bench, and secured my arms and legs with black leather straps. My head hung over the end of the bench and I realized my panties were fully exposed from underneath my short skirt. Headmistress pulled up my chin with her hand. She locked me in her gaze, as if hypnotizing me with her presence. "Marie, part of your duties will be to service your mistresses, for their pleasure. Like me, many like to use dildos to fuck their girls. For the next several weeks you will be wearing increasingly larger plugs that will stretch your passage. This will be a little uncomfortable at first, but you will grow used to it. And later, you will be thankful that you will be able to comfortably accede to their wishes." She walked around behind me and I felt her hands reach under my skirt, grasping the waistband of my panties. She eased them down to my ankles. I was fully exposed. She continued, "Now Marie, your Mistress will be leaving you. I am your new owner and will be adding my name to your pedigree. You may say your goodbyes." My Mistress pulled up on my chin so I could see her, possibly for the last time. I couldn?t help it. I started crying a little, thinking of the life she had introduced me to, frightened of being left alone, without any salvation if that was what I needed. My life was entirely out of my control. She wiped my tears with a tissue. "There, there, Marie. You knew this was your destiny and you wanted it. I am happy I was able to introduce you to it. You?ll always be one of my favorites." With that, she leaned down and kissed me firmly on my lips. I heard her say to the Headmistress, "Take good care of her." Headmistress replied, "Your check is on the counter in the hall." The doors opened, and she was gone. The Headmistress told the maid to "get the instruments." When she returned, I felt someone lubricating my passage with her finger, and then felt something narrow inserted. A coolness spread inside and I was thoroughly lubricated. Then they inserted something a little larger, but still not painful at all. Rather pleasurable in fact. "Now we will begin your treatment," Mistress said. I felt her attach something to the plug, and then heard the sound of blood pressure pump squeezing. Immediately I felt the plug expanding within me, pushing at the sides and forcing my hole to open to its maximum. When I felt I could endure no more, she stopped and removed the pump. The maid released me from the straps and helped me stand. I pulled my panties to my waist, constantly aware of the plug deep within me. My body naturally tried to expel it, but it didn?t, couldn?t, move or budge. I surmised that it had some sort of internal retaining ring that prevented its removal until the pressure was released. I started to get down off the platform. Headmistress said, "Stand still, Marie. I didn?t tell you to move." I faced her, and of course complied. I then saw the maid coming from the desk area. Something in her hand was tinkling like a little bell. When she was in front of me, she knelt, and pushed my legs apart. I was unsteady, so I leaned against the bench. She pulled my panty?s crotch away from the plug, and attached the bell to a ring on the plug, and released my panties back into place. Now I understood. Anytime I moved, the sound of the bell was heard from between my legs. "You see, Marie. We call new girls ?tinkerbells?. This is one of the ways anyone will know just where you are physically, and in your coursework. Some of the more experienced girls are permitted to remove it, if they wish. Otherwise, you must wear it continually, until I see fit to promote your rank to ?debutante.? Understand?" "Yes, Headmistress," I said. I was blushing furiously as I carefully stepped off of the platform. There was nothing I could do to silence that darned bell. "The other way they will identify you is that you will always wear pink. Pink dresses, lingerie, leotard, swimsuits, everything. It?s a beautiful color on you, and yet I?m sure you?ll look forward to some variety later!" Day Two I awoke in an unfamiliar room. Pink walls, but the door was constructed of thick bars, like a cell. I heard breathing and was surprised to find myself on my side facing another girl sharing my bed. The medallion hanging from collar read, "Annabelle." Short chains connected us at the collar and our plugs, preventing our separation. We both were wearing pink babydoll nighties. At first I just laid there, frightened to move, remembering yesterday. I jumped when I heard a bell from somewhere, and Annabelle awoke with a start, jerking the bonds that kept us together. She put a finger to her lips telling me to remain quiet. Her hand then started caressing me through my panties. It felt so good, I started feeling her too, feeling her grow and start pumping and pushing against my palm. Our passion mounted as we continued to explore each other?s bodies. Her hand traveled under my gown and up to my breasts caressing and rubbing them. The way we were chained there was no way for us to bring ourselves to release, so we started kissing violently, sucking on each others tongue. She kept rubbing her leg between mine, keeping them apart, pushing against my plug like I was being used. We then heard a key in the door lock. "Break it up, girls." It was the maid from yesterday, now wearing a nightie of her own. Like ours it was a babydoll, but hers was much more sheer. I could see her breasts jiggling as she moved. She leaned over us and disconnected our collars. One by one she had us spread our legs so she could unlock our plugs. We both stood beside the bed, and then when instructed, pulled down our panties and leaned over the bed. She pushed on something, releasing the plug?s inflation like a bicycle tire. I quickly loosened inside me. Without removing the plug, she ordered us into the bathroom to clean ourselves and prepare for school. The maid instructed me on how to inflate each other?s plug, and warned me that it would be checked frequently, so unless I wanted a visit to the Punishment Center, I?d better make sure I did it right. Once we had our plugs in again, and were finished with our showers, we returned to the bedroom naked, our tinkerbells jingling merrily whenever we moved. On the bed were two identical outfits of lingerie, a pretty pink velvet dress, and high-heeled shoes. Next to each set of clothing was a small pink knapsack. We pulled up our panties and helped each other with our bras. Once our dresses were on we pulled up the zipper and locked the lock, preventing our removal of these delightful clothes. Headmistress was right. Although I felt the plug within me, I was growing used to its presence and didn?t think about it much. At least until I had to bend over and buckle the straps of my shoes. The maid said, "Tonight we?ll be hosting a small party of potential buyers. You two will serve at the dinner, although as Tinkerbells, your roles will be suitably small. The ladies like following your progression, so that by the end of the Program, they will know you and perhaps want to bid on your purchase." Annabelle and I looked at each other. Someone from outside is going to see me like this? I thought, embarrassed to even think about it. I knew it was coming, but I was surprised it was happening so quickly. By six o?clock that evening we had been taught the rudiments of being a barmaid. The bell between my legs announced my entry as I entered the Entertainment Room where the ladies were gathering. Several looked me over as I served them drinks. To avoid exposing my panties from beneath my skimpy skirt, I leaned back on one leg to place the glass on the table. It was hard to do, especially while balancing a tray loaded with cocktails in my other hand. I was most vulnerable in this position! One of the ladies took the opportunity to stroke my thigh, slide her hand between my legs and cup my crotch in her palm, tinkling with my bell and pushing on the plug buried within me. She stroked me while I served the drink. I kept my composure and was able to keep standing, with her hand exploring under my skirt. I found myself breathing deeply, my arousal growing with each second. I felt that I had to bend to my knees. She also was wearing a skirt, but it was in heavy gray wool, and fell to her ankles. I thought about crawling between her legs, covered by her skirt, licking her with my tongue. But it wasn?t to be, at least not yet. Soon enough another lady wanted her drink and called me over. I was kept busy through the evening, shuttling plates and food dishes back and forth from dining room to kitchen. Finally they were finished with desert, talking while most had brandy snifters in front of them. They were getting lively by this point, when Headmistress announced that the entertainment was about to begin. Perhaps they should all retire to somewhere more comfortable? When they had left, the head maid told Annabelle and I to remove our clothes, right there. Quickly! She ordered. Some other girls were coming and going from the kitchen; I was embarrassed to be stripped so completely, out in the open like that. I hesitated. The head maid said, "That earned you a trip to the Punishment Room tomorrow. Just so you know." I instantly shed the rest of my clothes. She then gave us each a pink garter belt, stockings, panties, and a sheer nightie to wear. We slipped into these silky confections and waited. She turned me around and pulled my wrists together behind my back. I felt her wrap something around them, tying them together. When I saw her do the same to Annabelle, I saw that it was a pink ribbon, tied with an elaborate bow. She tied a longer ribbon to each of our necks and using them as leashes, pulled us out of the dining room and into the hall, heading for the Entertainment Room. "Enter," we heard after she had knocked. Some of the ladies were standing, talking and laughing to someone?s joke. "Oh, yes," one said, after turning to look at me. It seemed like her eyes stripped me bare, from my breasts down and inside my panties. "You. Come over here," she ordered. It was the same Lady who had felt me earlier when I was serving drinks. I wondered what I was going to be doing next. Whatever it was, I knew I had no choice in the matter. She sat down in a chair, and pointed at the floor. I knelt at her feet. She pulled her skirt up to her knees, indicating I should go within, into the darkness. I started moving between her legs as she draped her skirt over my shoulders, casting me into pitch black darkness. I followed her stocking-covered legs with my mouth, kissing her between her thighs, as they spread to give me access. All the while my hands were still tied behind me, like I was a Christmas or birthday present. As I leaned forward my balance shifted to my mouth helping push me up and between her slender legs. I continued moving up and reached her pussy, first with the tip of my nose, and then with my lips. Through her thin panties I locked my lips onto her labia, licking and sucking her warm liquid through the fabric. I felt her start to writhe and buck to the rhythm of my tongue. I was enjoying myself immensely, giving her pleasure. It?s one of my favorite activitie