Amandas Story
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Amanda's Journey Day 2 Part 2 free porn video
Chapter 5
Jennifer shows Nicole to the door as Mistress orders me to shower
before joining her in the hot tub. I'm careful not to get my wig wet,
can't have frizzy hair now, can we?
I ran track at the various schools I attended, and though I didn't
compete in college, I still ran as often as my curriculum allowed. In
other words, I thought I was in good shape.
Pilates proved me wrong.
Jennifer returns, snatches a quick shower and joins us in the tub.
"Jennifer, make sure you girls are back here by 5:00 the latest. We
have to leave by 8:00 to make the event on time, and you'll be doing my
make up."
"I have to run to the spa at the Venetian, but plan to be back here by
4:00 the latest to reward Cindy."
"Amanda, I think by now you know I expect you to behave in a proper
lady like manner?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"Good, now don't forget you're little task for tonight, remember, noon
tomorrow."
Blushing, I say, "I won't forget, Mistress."
Jennifer hands out plush Terrycloth robes she gets from a cabinet near
the tub, and we head upstairs to dress for the day.
Susan says, "Jennifer, come see me before you leave," when we come to
the second floor landing.
Oh shit shit shit shit shit! More machinations from the diabolical
Susan Madison!
We enter Jen's room and she has me remove my wig before applying my
make up.
Once again she uses the pink and purple shadows, electric blue liner,
pink blush, and my ever present hot pink lipstick. But she uses a
different mascara this time.
This mascara has two colors, white and black. Jen explains that the
white cosmetic will lengthen my lashes.
I tell her I've seen the commercials, in a sarcastic tone, and the
bitch has the nerve to titty twist me!
"Miss Jennifer, why haven't you tried different colors yet?"
"Because, my precious Princess, today you are going to be Mistress's
walking advertisement. You will be the guy in the sandwich board
advertising, "Eat at Joe's, and the girl in the Banana suit dancing
outside the Dairy Queen, all rolled into one pretty package!"
I don't quite understand, but where it comes to these two, I seldom do.
"Scooch! Brush my hair while I get ready."
Jennifer lines her eyes in black, and uses three shades of purple on
her lids. A touch of rose blush kisses her cheekbones, and she finishes
with pink lip liner and the hot pink lipstick.
With a sly look I say, "You, know, that color really looks better on
me," and wink at her in the mirror.
Her mouth forms a wide O, and a look of total shock comes over her
face.
"Oh, you WILL pay for that, bitch!" she finally says, with fire in her
eyes.
I finish brushing her hair, and she briskly stands up and storms into
her closet.
I meekly try to follow her but her sharp "Stay!" halts me in my tracks.
"Wow, she's pissed!" I think, "I guess cosmetics are a touchy subject
with Little Miss first in her class at Beauty School."
She returns with the requisite armload of hangers, and throws them on
the bed, while I'm applying my perfume.
"Are we having our first lover's quarrel? Hell, are we even lovers, or
am I just another doll to play dress up with? I wonder.
"Je, Miss Jennifer, I apologize if my comment hurt you, I meant in
jest. I'm sorry."
She says, "Get dressed," in a neutral tone and goes back into her
closet.
I see a gaff, and navy blue body suit with a thong back, I don't see a
bra, so I quickly don them, and pick up the faded, almost white jeans
she left for me. My nipples are prominently on display through the
bodysuit.
"Blue jeans?" I think. "No mini skirt, or dress even? I have to say I'm
disappointed."
I struggle to slide waistband of the jeans up over my unenhanced ass,
but I still feel my cheeks lift and separate. I actually have to lay on
the bed and arch my back to get the jeans on.
I roll off the bed and onto my feet to button the waist, sucking in my
gut to do so.
I kneel on the bed, and look over my shoulder to check out my ass in
the make up mirror.
The jeans are low ride, and skin tight. My ass is not quite as round as
it was in the leather mini, but it does appear much rounder than
normal.
I slip into a sheer 3/4 sleeve mesh shell, the same color as the body
suit, and It doesn't do much to hide my nips.
Jennifer didn't bring out any shoes, and my outfit is anything but
formal, so I guess the trainers from our workout are the shoes of the
day.
My clutch is obviously all wrong for this outfit, so I dump my things
onto the bed.
My pants are so tight, there's no way I'm putting anything in the
pockets, so I leave the stuff laying on the bed.
I attempt to brush my wig from this morning, but all I do is make a
frizzy mess of it.
I just want to cry as I lay my head on the make up table.
Chapter 6
Jennifer walks out of the closet and in a cool tone says, "stand up,
let me get a look at you."
I stand, with my head bowed, because I'm afraid to look at her, and
after a quick inspection, she lays into me.
"Knees...Now!" I drop, face down ass up. "What do you think you're
doing?" I think it's a rhetorical question, so I remain silent.
"Aren't you going to answer me?"
I find my voice and reply, "I don't understand the question, Miss
Jennifer."
"You don't understand the question?" she pauses as if thinking, "let me
rephrase it for you, SLAVE. What are the rules of the house, surely you
remember those, don't you?"
Furiously thinking, I reply, "Yes I do, Miss Jennifer, I am to do as
ordered, without question, I am to live as a girl 24/7, I am to serve
Mistress, and Miss Jennifer as commanded."
"I am to stop masturbating, and I'm not allowed to orgasm without
permission, and when I am allowed, I'm to swallow my cum unless
otherwise ordered."
"I am to smoke Virginia Slims 120's, and always say cigarette."
"I am to wear 3" or 4" heels..." My voice trails off into silence.
The tension builds before she finishes, "You are to wear high heels at
all times, unless otherwise specified. So tell me slave, what are you
wearing on your feet?"
"Trainers Miss Jennifer."
"Were you going back down to the gym for a workout?"
"No Miss Jennifer"
"Perhaps you don't want to serve after all, and are planning on running
away?"
"Oh NO Miss Jennifer, I want to stay and serve!"
"You are a slave who doesn't follow instructions, tell me slave, why
are you wearing trainers, and not heels?"
Slave is it? not Princess, or Amanda, or even Adam? Am I no longer
worthy of a name? Have I been reduced to a status, something less than
human?"
Selecting my next words carefully, I reply. "I didn't see a pair when
you selected my outfit, I saw the jeans and thought today was a casual
day."
"A casual day...Oh I like that, perhaps you should write that down and
set it in the slave suggestion box outside of Mistress's office. Better
yet, why don't you run down there, and tell her in person?"
"Please don't make me do that. Miss Jennifer," I plead in alarm, "you
were angry at me and went into your closet. I was afraid to ask you."
"You ordered me to get dressed and the trainers were the only shoes out
here. Next time I promise to set aside my fear and ask. Please don't
order me to speak to Mistress, PLEASE!"
After a very long pause she says, "Look at me." I stay on my knees and
look up at her.
I get sick to my stomach when I see she is looking toward the hall, and
not at me.
She continues, looking toward the hall, "I may have let my temper
momentarily get the better of me, and can follow your logic in choosing
the trainers, but there is no excuse for not taking the initiative...to
ask ME."
"You must learn to control your fear, and do what you know is right.
Mistress deserves the best serving her. You met a few of those that
couldn't rise to the challenge this morning."
"Now, prove to me you are worthy of serving by my side, or you'll be
the next slave wearing the Maid's dress, and doing menial chores around
here."
"Now get up, Amanda."
"Yes Miss Jennifer."
I rush into the closet to change my shoes, and find a different wig.
I select a pair of calf length black leather boots, with black rawhide
fringe running down the sides, straps with silver buckles around the
ankles and funky heels that taper in the center, then flair out to a
wide base.
I also choose a wide black belt with silver studs, a small Coach purse
& wallet, blue silk scarf, and the sexiest black bolero hat I've ever
seen.
I slip into the curly blonde wig I wore for my photos, and walk to the
make up table where Jennifer is touching up her make up.
I go to her jewelry box and select a few silver bangle bracelets,
silver hoop earrings and go stand 5 feet behind Jennifer.
I say, "Miss Jennifer, will you please help me with my wig?"
She looks at me in the mirror as she touches up her lips, and calmly
says, "come sit down."
I sit and she pins my wig into place, and teases it with a pick for a
minute.
"Damn it, just look at your thumbnails!" she says angrily, and quickly
strips the paint.
"I'm sorry Miss Jennifer, it must have happened while pulling up my
jeans."
She takes a few deep breaths as she applies new varnish and has me dry
them under her nail dryer before finishing up with a clear topcoat.
"I'll say this for you, you may be a smart ass, but you certainly know
how to accessorize." she says after finishing my nails. She places the
hat on my head with a smile, and I know everything's ok.
"Grab your things and wait for me in the garage, I have to go talk to
Mistress."
She puts my ID, credit card, cell, and cash into my new wallet, and
slips it into my purse, along with my lipstick, sealer, mascara, eye
pencil, cigarettes and Zippo, and slings the purse over my shoulder,
before going to see Mistress.
Chapter 7
I step outside the garage to have a cigarette, and watch Brittany wax
the Jag, in 5" fuck me pumps. She stops, lowers her eyes and waits for
my command.
Softly I say, "Eyes up, would you like a cigarette?"
"Yes, Miss Amanda, thank you."
I hand him a cigarette and my Zippo, he examines the lighter, and rolls
up his sleeve to expose his Devil Dog tat.
"Yours?" he says, I shake my head slowly and respond quietly, "My
father's." Noticing the pain in my voice, he hands me back the lighter,
and we smoke in silence.
Jennifer appears, and say's "Go finish your chores now, Brittany." He
bows his head in acknowledgment and waits for my nod, before he returns
to waxing.
"Let's go," Jennifer says to me. "I usually love driving my car,"
flipping her hand toward the Audi, "but we're gonna need an SUV where
we're going."
Jennifer pops on some soft rock station (which I hate btw) and starts
singing along softly.
Need an SUV? Am I going to end up buried in the desert, with a bullet
in my brain because I know too much about Susan Madison?
I go to chew on my nails, but Jennifer slaps my hand down and commands,
"Stop that!"
"Miss Jennifer, may I ask where we're going?"
She had to have picked up the nervousness in my voice, because she gets
this really wicked gleam in her eye as she says, "I could tell you
sweetie, but then I'd have to kill you, which I'll probably do anyway."
My hands are trembling as I open my purse and take out my cigarettes.
"What are you doing? You should know by now we never smoke in the cars,
or house. Put them away!"
"I'm sorry Miss Jennifer, I'm just a bit nervous, I've never been out
in public during the day dressed before," I lie as I put the cigarettes
back.
"Will you relax, your own Mother wouldn't recognize you anymore.
Besides, we're going to have fun! Or at least I am." she says with
another evil smile.
"Next up on the Jerry Springer Show, more humiliation for Adam", is the
thought running through my head.
We arrive at our destination, which, much to my chagrin (and relief) is
Vegas's famous Fashion Show Mall.
Jennifer actually laughs at the relief on my face, so I shoot her a
"revenge is sweet" look. She raises her eyebrow, and my eyes instantly
drop...Damn conditioning!
"Princess, the only thing I love more than shopping, is Mistress, and
make up. We are going to have so much fun!"
So we're back to Princess? It's gotta be the hormones.
(Dear readers, how do you make a hormone?...................Don't pay
her!)
Chapter 8
"Are we here to pick up something for your event tonight?" I say as we
start walking towards the doors.
"No Princess, to paraphrase Richard Gere in Pretty Woman, we're here to
spend obscene amounts of money... On you. Oh and you are to call me
Jennifer in public, got it?"
I stop dead in my tracks, and all the color drains from my face.
"Miss Jennifer," another eyebrow, "Jennifer, I can't afford to spend
too much, and I certainly won't let you buy me anything! It's not
right!"
"Princess," she says in a low, Danger Will Robinson! voice. "You will
remember who you're speaking to."
My eyes drop once more, and she snaps, "Look at me!" a little too
loudly.
In a lower tone she continues, "I told you at home that Susan takes
care of her girls. You are now her girl, if she tells me to spend
obscene amounts of money on you, I will spend it, period, end of story!
You will never, EVER, say that you wont allow, ever again! Am I
understood?"
I nod slowly.
"Did you think we would continue to share my wardrobe? My lingerie? My
shoes?"
"No Mi...Jennifer, to be honest, with everything's that happened, I
haven't given it any thought at all."
In a softer almost whisper Jen continues, "Amanda, you have been
chosen, out of dozens of people wanting, begging, to serve Susan."
"She hasn't had more than one personal slave since college. It's your
DUTY to uphold her image. As her representative, you will be expected
to attend events, and you must look your very best."
"She demands it, she fucking deserves it, and fortunately she has the
resources to pay for it."
"I think I'm gonna be sick."
"You fucking Marines and your honor! Tell me Marine, is there any
dishonor in earning a living? In working your ass off, and making good
money?"
Anger flares in my eyes, and I say through gritted teeth, "I am not a
Marine!"
The eyebrow goes up, and she says calmly, "Answer the question."
I let out a slow breath and reply, "No, there is no dishonor in EARNING
a lot of money."
"You WILL work your ass off, trust me, you will earn every penny Susan
spends on you, threefold. Now let's have a cigarette and drop this
matter, forever!"
"I will have one last word," she says with a twinkle in her eye. "If
you respond, you will be punished, am I understood, slave?"
I drop my head in acknowledgment, and she says with fury in her voice
that blind sides me,
"You might not have worn the uniform, but you've lived the code all
your fucking life, you have more honor and integrity than every fucking
Jarhead that's betrayed the code, and disgraced the uniform! And that
IS the final word on the subject!"
"Don't you fuckin cry, Princess. I wouldn't want to be the one
explaining to the Boss why you had to get a make over at Mac."
I laugh and grab her in a tight hug, we hold each other for a few
moments before I finally whisper, "I love you."
My heart races when she replies, "I love you too, Princess."
Chapter 9
As we enter the mall I say to Jen, "ah, Jennifer, if we're representing
Susan, why am I running around braless? I mean, my headlights are on
high beam, yanno?"
She bursts out laughing and finally says, "Between you and I, I'll
allow you to call Mistress, by her name. Only out in public, and when
we're alone. Don't ever do it at home, I don't care if she's away or
not, ok?
I nod and she continues, "you wont be braless for long, our first stop
is a bra fitting at Fredrick's of Hollywood."
"But, they're not real!" I say in a panic.
"See, I told you It would be fun," with her oh so evil smile.
We walk in and there's lingerie everywhere! I've never seen so much
satin, in so many colors in my life!
Jen explains that despite their having a reputation for glam trash
intimates, their bra's and panties are of decent quality.
A cute sales associate walks up and asks if she could assist us,
Jennifer is all smiles as she says, "Ad...my friend *wink* Amanda,
would like to get fitted for hir first bra."
I smile at the clerk with my beet red face, and whisper to Jen, "you
really love to torture me, don't you?"
"Oh Princess, you have no idea," Jen replies out loud.
The clerk smiles, "My name is Emily and I'll be happy to measure you,
please come with me."
Jen gives me a little "toodles" wave and her evil smile.
I follow Emily into a dressing room. She says she likes the jeans, and
loves the boots.
She asks me to remove my top, so I slowly slip out of my shell, and
slide my body suit down, exposing the girls.
"Are those Madco 35's?" Emily asks, looking at my forms.
"I uh I guess, Jennifer picked them out."
"Wow, your lucky, most of our customers can't afford Madco's, do your
nipples really respond as advertised?"
"Uh, yeah, they're pretty amazing technology."
"Would your Domme mind if I touched them?"
"My what?" I say shocked.
"It's obvious you are her submissive, should I ask her?"
"I gue...yes, you should ask her."
"Great, I'll ask her as I grab a few bra's for you to try."
Emily returns with Jen, and a couple of bra's. I just stand there like
a mannequin.
Jen nods, and Emily softly strokes my left nipple. After a few seconds
it gets erect. Emily smiles with fascination, and asks if I feel it.
I nod, trying to swallow the lump in my throat.
Emily looks straight into my eyes, and says, How do I know your really
feeling it?"
Jen pulls her aside and whispers in her ear. Emily nods, and walks back
to me.
She looks into my eyes and sharply commands, "Eyes closed!" My eyes
squeeze shut, and Jen walks up behind me, and covers my eyes with her
hands.
Emily starts teasing my right nipple this time, and it responds
accordingly. She quickly grabs my left nipple an twists it.
I jump about a foot in the air, and let out a very unmasculine yelp.
Jen let's go, laughing, while Emily stares fascinated.
I finally find my voice and ask,"so, you get uh a lot of guys dressed
as women in here?"
Emily gives me the exact same look River Tam gives her brother Simon,
when he asks her if she's Miranda.
(bonus points to those of you who know what I'm referring to)
"Amanda is it? Amanda, this is Vegas, 1/3 our customers are
Transsexuals,and 1/3 are Female Impersonators. Thou I have to admit,
not many pass nearly as well as you. You had me fooled until you
spoke."
I blush and thank her for the kind words as she measures me.
Turns out my 36D's are actually 38D's, which explains why I was
spilling out of Jen's bra's.
Emily helps Jen select 4 bra's in red, powder blue, soft pink, and a
navy to wear out of the store. She also grabs 4 matching Thongs, 4 pair
of boy shorts, or "cheeky's" as Jen likes to call them, three "Ultimate
Corsets", black, white, and red and a slinky red dress "for
clubbing."(as if!)
I slip the dress on over my outfit for a fitting (there's no way in
he'll I'm getting out and back in my jeans.) as Jennifer holds up a
French Maids outfit, and smiles suggestively, I go pale when Emily
says, "that's our best selling item, your bitch would look hot in
that."
As Emily is ringing us up, she says, "I absolutely love your lip stick
Amanda, what brand is it?"
Jen answers for me, "Madison, and I'm afraid it won't be on the market
until fall."
"Ohhh, are you a rep?" Jen smiles and says, "I guess you call us that"
and hands her a business card.
Emily's eyes go wide, and says almost reverently, "it must be wonderful
working so closely with her. I bet you get a lot of fringe benefits."
Jen smiles and says, "oh, yeah," and pays our tab with a platinum
credit card.
Emily finishes bagging our items and actually walks us to the door, as
if wishing she could come with us.
Jen reaches in her purse and pulls out a lip stick, and small white
envelope, hands them to a startled Emily, and says, "Thank you for your
excellent service, your manager will hear about it from me,
personally," and in a lower conspiratorial voice, "these are for
putting my bitch in her place."
As we move on to the next store I say, "Is it that obvious to everyone
that I'm your slave?" she stops walking and looks at me.
"My adorable, silly, Princess, of course it is. Tell me, in all your
past relationships, did you always do what your girlfriend wanted?"
"Yeah."
"Did you always hang out with her friends, and never your own?"
My voice goes lower, "Yes."
"When you went out to dinner, did she start the order with "we'll
have," while you sat there silent?"
"Sometimes," eyebrow, "most of the time."
"Did they all last a few weeks, maybe 2 months max before ending with
the "look, you're a really nice guy, but..." speech?"
Barely a whisper, staring at the floor, "how did you know?"
"Oh Princess, it's so obvious for people that have been exposed to the
lifestyle, your body language screams "dominate me!"
"Your past girlfriends were stupid, domineering, not dominant, mind
you, morons, looking for a guy who could control them."
"They were too stupid to understand the power they held over you.
They're the women who end up gettting cheated on, slapped around, and
divorced multiple times"
"Look how fast you closed your eyes for a cute shop keeper who barked
an order while she was teasing your nipple. She understood her power
over you."
"Yes it's obvious your my bitch, but more importantly, it's obvious I'm
your owner"
"But you're a slave too," I say a bit too loudly, "we'll talk about it
on the ride home, yes?" Eyes lowered reflexively, I say "Yes Miss
Jennifer," sotto voce.
We rush in and out of shops like mad women. Victoria's Secret for more
bras, panties, and hosiery. Nordstrom, Saks Fifth Avenue, Macy's,
Neiman Marcus, Aldo, Michael Kors, Kenneth Cole, Boot Star, Eric
Andrew, Thomas Sabo,(somehow I end up wearing an expensive white gold
ladies watch) the list seems never ending, and the shopping bags keep
multiplying like Rabbits.
I learn foreign names like Jimmy Choo (God bless me) Cavalli , Vera
Wang, Versace, Prada, Pozen, and Ferragamo. I learn why we buy these
jeans, and those skirts, and the other dresses.
I learn who's in, who's out, and who never was. At one point, I think
we ate some Mexican food, but I don't remember. I am so overloaded with
data, I log out and just do whatever Jen says.
After what seems like hundreds of miles of walking, dozens of
compliments about my clothes and make up, handing out free samples and
Spa gift certificates to those who asked about my lip stick, we finally
get back to the Benz.
We load our massive collection of bags in the cargo hold when Jen gets
a call. Now I know why we needed an SUV, pops in my head somewhere.
She walks to the front of the Benz for privacy, and I see a pile of
receipts sticking out of her wallet.
I slip them out and look at them. Fredrick's $680, Victoria's Secret
$1230, Bloomingdales $7694.33, Macys $4563.76, Thomas Sabo $8909.74.
The receipts keep coming, and the grand total gets higher and higher.
My brain goes numb. I drop the receipts in her purse, and sit down
hard. "No no nonononono, I keep mumbling. Why is she doing this? How
can I pay this back?"
"This is 1/2 of my yearly commissions, and she spent it in 4 hours, on
ME!" I can't possibly accept this, maybe she'll let me return some of
it. There's no way a smart woman like Susan would approve of this
wanton spending.
I gotta get to the bank, I have $4000 in savings I can withdrawal.
Shit! it's Saturday, I'll have to make some kind of payment arrangement
with Mistress...What am I going to do?
I'm gonna be sick!
*Author's note... Since Fictionmania doesn't seem to track how many
readings a story gets, and Amanda's story is a cruel Mistress as far as
man hours go, I would really appreciate it if my readers would leave a
review. The more reviews I have, the more I know that people are
interested in my story, and would like it to continue.
Thank you in advance, Monica.
Dottie
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