Two DiariesChapter 19: Ups And Downs free porn video

Amanda’s diary:

Dear diary,

I woke up as Fiona’s hands were touching me all over. She must have been playing with me for a while, because I was already very aroused, and couldn’t help moaning and shivering. She kept on stroking me.

“Uh, g-good morning”, I said.

With a devilish laugh, she pinned me down. She was heavier and so much stronger than me I had no chance to dislodge her, and when she started playing with my nipples all I could do was surrender to her, giving little yelps.

She turned over on her back, and flipped me atop her. She caressed me, and I wanted her to never stop, so when she demanded me to say whose I was, I had no hesitation in admitting I belonged to her.

“In that case,” she said, “I’ll give you a way to remember it. Every time you wake up in my presence, you’ll greet me with kisses on my forehead, hands and feet.”

I nodded, moving to comply, when she interrupted.

“Hold on. I don’t just want external gestures. When you kiss my forehead, say to yourself, ‘I follow Fiona’s guidance’, for my hands, ‘I obey Fiona’s commands’, and for my feet, ‘I serve Fiona’s will’. Clear?”

“Uh, sure.”

I thought it was silly until I did it. The kisses already made me think of her. The phrases resounded in my mind like in an empty cavern, echoing and multiplying. They tightened my focus on her, and how I needed her approval and wanted to please her.

Kissing Fiona’s feet while quietly devoting myself to her service was so intense I got a little lost in the act, and got stuck there. She made fun of me for it, and I felt even smaller and more submissive, though it wasn’t altogether unpleasant.

Her toes cupped my nose and she ordered me to smell. I took a sniff. The stench was pungent. My body turned to mush and my mind followed soon after. I still couldn’t understand how it could be alluring and disgusting all at once.

I’d noticed it before, but her feet were so much more potent up close. I shuddered, and took breath after breath, unable to stop myself. It was so embarrassing. I admitted it turned me on, and Fiona giggled, though at least she relented and let me go, not without rubbing it in.

“Enjoying the sweet aroma from my toes?”

I didn’t know what to say, so I kept quiet, but that didn’t save me from her laughter. It was getting impossible to deny, even to myself, how much I liked it when she mocked me and talked down to me. I could hardly complain about being trodden on, when I loved playing her doormat, being treated like dirt; and, in the end, there was always something playful about it to soften it, letting me know I wasn’t really dirt, and even if I was, I was hers, and that was enough for me to matter.

We got dressed, and I avoided the mirror as well as her eyes, tired of seeing her pity when she looked at my naked body. It was better than disgust, but it made me even more self-conscious, and it was hard enough to be naked before her strong, beautiful form.

She made me put on her slippers. It wasn’t the first time, but she also demanded a kiss on her toes. She was in the mood for symbols of adoration. I was reluctant to let her see how it got to me, and turned away from her, but she told me it was my job to do that from then on, making me acknowledge it all in full sentences, and thanking her for it. Saying it outloud made it so much more real.

Fiona held my hand as we walked to the kitchen. It felt good to be closer to her level again, though I couldn’t deny I’d enjoyed bowing and scraping for her. Then I realised what she had made me do, without me doing the least to stop it, and I got upset.

Things moved so fast. It was only after the fact that I realised what was happening. I asked her for reassurance, and she pointed out how much better my life was since we’d met. True as far as it went, but I wondered to myself if she might not have helped out without all the difficult, demeaning parts.

At least I liked cooking, and more so for her. I could even tell myself it wasn’t about being hers; just me doing my part, one of the few things I was better at. As excuses went, it was quite transparent, even to me. I wasn’t ready to say I was inferior, though, never mind how good it felt to do what she said, and to see her approving face as I served her food.

Fiona’s parents showed up, and I was happy to take their orders, too. I did like preparing food as such, but it was much better when it was appreciated by people I respected. Fiona’s father was very quiet and I didn’t know him too well, but Aideen was someone whose good opinion I cared about and whom I’d love to impress.

That didn’t make her easy to deal with. She had an uncanny ability to strip my mind bare, just like her daughter. When she surmised we were a couple, I felt like a child playing chess against adults. It was a comfort that Fiona’s father admitted they had a special gift. At least I wasn’t the class dummy. Then Fiona compared it to my understanding of maths, using the example of univalence, and I felt like the densest person in the world. It had taken me years to get there. How could she have learned type theory so quickly?

Of course, she hadn’t. I almost scolded myself with the kettle from the shock, when she explained she’d only seen my foundations book during her last visit. Gods, I could be so silly.

I’d barely recovered, when Fiona’s father demanded to know how things were between us. All I could tell him was I thought we were together, while I served tea. Fiona backed me up, and agreed. He wanted more detail, and I let her sort it out. Maybe she knew what was going on. I certainly didn’t.

Before I could object, Fiona turned me around, held my hand, and called me her intended. I tried to hold my head up, but Aideen’s gaze was drilling through me, as if she wanted to tear me apart and see what made me go. Fiona’s father was imperturbable. No way to know what he was thinking. Neither was easy to take, and I wasn’t ready for it. I tried to hide my face and felt my cheeks turn warm.

He probed further. Then Fiona said she wanted me with her, forever. I held onto her hand like a lifeline, fearing I might faint. I could hardly believe it, but she wouldn’t make something like that up. Not to me, and certainly not to her father.

He asked me to get close to him, and I looked at Fiona, trying to tell her how nervous I was, but she simply nodded. I stumbled, and he hugged me and told me I was a part of the family now and to take care of their daughter. As if she needed it. At last, he entrusted me with his name, though he told me not to use it much. There probably was a story to that. Might be worth asking Fiona.

As he embraced me, he felt solid and reliable. I knew that, if he had been my father, none of the nonsense with my cousins would have ever happened. He would have listened to me, he would have found out the truth, and he would never have allowed me to be harmed. I didn’t know how far to take his words, but I was sure I could count on him to protect me, at least against anything other than Fiona herself.

It was a relief after all that to hear Aideen laugh and ask for some eggs. Simple and straightforward. I couldn’t get back to the cooker fast enough. On my way I saw Fiona’s approving smile, and after Oisin’s hug it took all I had not to be moved to tears. These people were far too kind to me.

“Two eggs for me, too”, said Oisin.

“How do you take them?” I said.

“Soft. Crumpets with cheese on wouldn’t go amiss, too.”

I got on it, thinking I’d love to make a proper meal for them. Never mind what Aideen said. I’d never be able to repay what I owed them. I could show them how grateful I was, though.

Fiona left me to do the washing up. It wasn’t something I enjoyed at home, where my parents expected it. Doing it for the Esmonde family, following her orders, it felt like an act of service. I couldn’t say I liked the task itself, but doing it, obeying her, made me feel warm and soft inside. Odd what a difference a small change in perspective could make.

It was easy to lose myself in the repetitive actions of washing and wiping, while my mind went elsewhere. After Fiona had said we’d be spending some time at the basement, I couldn’t avoid anticipating things. It was scary and exciting all at once. I had had an amazing experience there with Syl, but I knew things were getting more serious now. Remembering the way Fiona had slapped Syl in front of me worried me some. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stand it. My cousins always made fun of my low pain tolerance. I wanted to be good for Fiona, but my sensitivity might make it difficult. With luck, she would be understanding about it.

I finished with the dishes without breaking anything. At least my concerns and distractions weren’t making me clumsy, though it took longer than it should have. Too easily distracted with my own thoughts.

Aideen and Oisin had accepted my offer to cook for them, so I started checking what they had for ingredients. Plenty of spices and sauces, but not a lot of staples. It was puzzling until I recalled they didn’t cook full meals that often. Flour for cakes, but not the right type for pizza, so that was out.

There was a good variety of vegetables, though in small quantities, so I put together a few sandwiches, hoping to please Fiona. Other than her dislike for hot spices, I didn’t really know her taste yet. Some juice would be nice, too. For dessert, grapes would do.

Before I got everything ready and gave the counters one last wipe, Aideen came in.

“Oh, would you like anything?” I said.

“Just tea, but I’m perfectly self-sufficient; so do tend to your own knitting, if you please.”

That remarked had been a little sharp, and I couldn’t tell if she’d meant it well or not. Reading people was always hard for me, and Aideen was harder than most.

“I can do it for you, M--Aideen.”

She ignored me and fill the kettle.

“Is it so hard to call me by my name, child?”

I bristled.

“I’m not a child.”

“You behave like one.” She pre-warmed her teapot before putting the leaves in. “You’re skittish around me. It goes way beyond my name.”

“Some of it is habit, but also, you’re a little ... intimidating.”

Aideen opened her mouth and tilted her head, as if trying to understand what might make her so in the eyes of her daughter’s girlfriend.

“I’ve never done you any harm, surely.” She paused. “Maybe a meek girl like you will find me so, but I’m well-disposed towards you.”

I blushed at her words. Did she have to point out I was submissive? My struggle not to admit my inferiority to these people wasn’t going very well.

“You said you’d piss on my ashes.”

“No-one hurts my daughter and gets away with it. I only gave you fair warning. She’d deal with you herself, and yet you manage to call her Fiona.”

If she only knew how hard I was finding not to call Fiona Miss, too. I packed the sandwiches in foil as I talked.

“It’s still a pretty scary thing to say.”

She approached me and hugged me. She felt solid, too, a different way from Oisin. He was colder and calmer. Her embrace was warm, but more demanding.

“You’re one of ours, Amanda. My husband told you. Fiona told you. I tell you now. You are safe here. Now and ever.”

It was obvious she was offering more than temporary shelter. Did they mean they’d treat me like a daughter, or something? What if Fiona and I--gods forbid--broke up? My eyes teared up. I trusted these people more than my own blood.

Aideen held me so close I could hardly breathe and patted my head. I hugged her back with all my strength, only a fraction of hers.

Being in Fiona’s presence was comforting and reassuring, but there was something unsettling about it. The way she liked dominating me was exciting, but made me feel nervous and insecure, always lacking. Held in Aideen’s arms, I felt at last someone would protect me unconditionally. I hadn’t realised how much I needed that. A sort of mother, but competent, dependable, and entirely on my side, unlike my own.

Aideen released me from her embrace, wiped my tears, kissed my forehead, and laid a finger on my lips. No need to tell Fiona, I gathered.

“May I ask you something?” I said.

“Go ahead”, she said.

She gave me all her attention, and I felt guilty for taking up her time. I hesitated for a moment, but didn’t want to waste the opportunity.

“You said I was strong”, I said, and she nodded. “Fiona says so, too; and that she’s trying to help me grow.”

“That’s not a question.”

“Right.” I gulped. “It’s ... Fiona is very ... firm with me. How ... is that ... I can’t refuse her much--or you--”

“How can we say you’re strong, when you’re so willing to accommodate us, or her, at least. Is that what you’re asking?”

“More or less.” I bowed my head. Aideen pushed my chin up with her finger, making me look up to her.

“Look at me when I’m talking, Amanda. Perhaps, also, how it is possible to gain confidence and agency, and to deepen your deference to my daughter at the same time. Is that it?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Why are you asking me this, and not her?”

She was right. This was something I should be relying on Fiona for. It was so difficult, though. Aideen was also my confidant. She knew all the ways I was broken, or at least as much of it as I could tell her in one sitting, so she might understand my doubts better, and be gentler. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Fiona, just that asking her something like this was really uncomfortable.

She sighed.

“Very well”, she said. “I’ll try to point you in the right direction. What is stronger, me, or the floor I’m treading?”

I looked down at the floor for a moment, puzzled.

“If I went away, would the floor stay the same?” she said. I nodded. “And if the floor would disappear, would I remain standing?” I shook my head, but I didn’t understand.

She saw the confusion in my eyes and smiled at me.

“You’re so clever I sometimes forget you’re rather literal-minded, like my husband”, she said. She thought for a few seconds. “What we’re trying to tell you ... Consider symbionts, like pilot fish and a shark; or a horse and its rider, for instance. Both work together, both benefit from the association, but the rider gives direction. The stronger the horse, the more it can contribute. A good rider will train the horse to make the correct moves, rather than constantly telling it what to do.”

“You’re saying I’m like a horse?”

“Bloody hopeless”, she muttered. “Listen, you have great potential. You’re brilliant, and you work hard. Fiona is drawn to that, very strongly. She also thinks you will do better under her guidance, but she wants to help you reach further than you would on your own, like a trainer or a teacher can.”

“Only that?”

“Of course not only that.” She snickered. “You know the rest. She’s going to want something for herself too, and it’s quite fair she does. It’s a partnership, and you both come out ahead.”

I’d have to think about it. It made some sense, but it still felt like a contradiction.

“Do you ... direct your husband that way?” I said. Oisin seemed somewhat like me, and Aideen and Fiona were very similar.

She laughed.

“That question would be quite impertinent coming from anyone else.” She softly stroked my cheek. “Don’t worry, I’m not offended.” I hadn’t realised I had tensed, but I relaxed my shoulders then. “No, Amanda. We’re equals, Oisin and I, each of us with our own responsibilities. If that’s what you want from Fiona, well, you know where she is.”

I imagined myself presenting such a request, and Fiona’s likely reaction. Not any time soon.

“One of these days your parents and I must have a talk”, she said.

That would be interesting to witness. Preferably from a safe distance.

Seeing my face, Aideen began to laugh.

“Well, at least that cheered you up. Shoo! You’ve taken enough of my time, and my daughter’s not patient.”

Fiona’s hands grabbed me as soon as I opened her door. I tried to wriggle out, uncertain of what she wanted, but she held me too tightly. It took me a few seconds to relax and realise she was only undressing me. Well, only. It was still hard to stand there naked as she focused on me. Her gaze measured and appraised me, and her hands explored me, prodding with her fingers. My legs trembled, and my cheeks turned red with embarrassment. I felt like I was an object for her to use, and the worst of it was I enjoyed it.

She pushed me onto the bed like a discarded toy, and I looked up at her, wondering if she would hurt me. Instead, she teased me, touching me all around my pussy, which had begun to leak from the moment she overpowered me. My body arched, seeking her hand, without my conscious will. I felt like such a slut, too weak to control my own desire. Her light caresses drove me crazy. My mouth opened and I moaned. Desperate for release, I begged her to go on and thrust her fingers inside me. What could I do? I was hers, and I needed her.

Her hands withdrew from me, and she chuckled, amused at my urgency. It was cruel to stop like that and tell me to get dressed. My dignity forgotten, I kept imploring her, until I felt my breast smart from a slap. Her voice was firm as she called my pet name, which I was learning to love and hate in equal measure.

It took all my self-control to obey her instead of playing with myself right there. I was pretty sure she wouldn’t have let me. As I stood, I remained aware of her body, craving her touch, my distance to her like a wound that needed closing.

When she told me I was no longer marked, I couldn’t believe it. It seemed like a way for her to distract me, until I looked in the mirror and saw my skin unblemished. It had been such a weight on me. My body felt broken and unattractive, and I knew Fiona deserved someone beautiful and whole. Having to cover it all up made it feel like it had been my fault, no matter how little sense it made. At last, it was over, and I embraced Fiona close, overjoyed not to be disgusting anymore.

She comforted me with her words and her touch. When she said we’d go visit the forest, I dared to give her a little kiss. It meant a lot to me that she’d remembered how much I wanted to do that. It showed I mattered, and she paid attention to my wishes.

I put on what she gave me, some of it hers. Socks weren’t much of an issue, but I looked like a child in adult clothes with her coat on. Still, it was early, and the wind would have chilled me to the bone without it.

Forests were another refuge for me. Every time I was sad or angry, and my mind wasn’t clear enough for maths, I went out and walked about. Since our last move I hadn’t had the chance to do that. Fiona had changed so much about my life I hadn’t felt the need, either. My date with Sampo reminded me of what I was missing, though.

We walked together, and I shyly stretched my hand towards her. She took hold of it, squeezed, and held on, pulling me closer. A smile came to my lips and everything looked brighter. What a silly girl I was.

For me, walking in the woods allowed my mind to rest. I didn’t focus on anything, but simply let my eyes roam to take in colours and shapes. The sound of our steps on the fallen leaves, the wind blowing through the trees, the calling and chirping of birds and the buzzing of insects was soothing, too, as well as the floral and herbal smells. Fiona seemed to take in the experience very differently. Her gaze sought specific trees, birds and plants, and her movements were practised and purposeful, almost silent. My clumsy feet made a lot more noise.

“Do you go outside often?” she said.

“Not here”, I said. “I used to before our last move, but I haven’t had the time.”

“You familiar with the area?”

She began to point and explain the ecosystem.

“Longleaf pine. Fire-resistant. Slash pine, not so much.” She bent down and picked something up. “A pecan.” She showed me. “From that hickory.”

“Oh, can you eat it?”

“Sure. It’s a pecan, like the ones you make pies with.” She let it drop. “You’d have to let it dry for a while, though. We can harvest some another time. if you like.”

“I’d no idea you could get food out of a place like this.”

“Certainly! One day I’ll bring you to pick nuts, berries and mushrooms.” She pointed. “That’s an oak. Acorns are no good, but mushrooms grow around them.”

“So, you like the wilderness?”

She stretched out her arms, arched her body, looking up, and stood on her tiptoes, exposing her body to the wind and the sun.

“Lots here.” She twirled and took a look around. “Trees, flowers, mushrooms, birds ... We hunt quail and grouse, too.”

I shuddered.

“You’re a hunter? Really?”

She looked at me, puzzled.

“Of course.” She held my hand again and went on walking. “We have a gun safe at home with a nice collection. I should show you where it is.”

The thought I’d been so close to guns made me queasy.

“What’s wrong?” she said.

“I just feel uneasy about that. I’ve lived in big cities, mostly.”

“Hmm.” She went on walking, frowning. “Perhaps I should train you. There’s nothing to be scared of.”

I shook my head. I didn’t want anything to do with that. Violence was not for me.

“Look”, she said. “My family’s had arms before this country was founded. We’re not fools.” She squeezed my hand. “I agree lots of people keep them for the wrong reasons.” She chuckled. “Perhaps it’s fitting for a servant girl like you not to handle weapons, but I want you to at least give it a try.”

I blushed at her easy assumption of superiority and gave her a tiny nod. “If that’s what you want.” My hands weren’t firm or precise enough for that. After she saw it with her own eyes, she’d agree.

I was a little tired, and Fiona found a place for us to sit. She put her hand on my shoulder, and I stroked it with my own. We stayed there for a bit, enjoying each other’s touch.

“Hope I didn’t ... annoy you”, I said.

She squeezed my fingers.

“You’re allowed to disagree. It doesn’t bother me.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” I smiled and took a deep breath.

“You’re not me, and couldn’t if you tried. Anyway, it’s not like your opinion matters.” I pouted at her words. “Oh, Mandy. You’re so much fun to tease.” She nudged me and stroked my hair. “Let’s get comfortable.”

She took her boots off as she lay on the blanket, and my eyes couldn’t leave her socked feet.

“Join me, silly”, she said.

I removed my running shoes, excited at the thought of lying by her. She had been teasing me for the better part of the day, and yesterday had been just as bad. I hadn’t had the chance for a release, so I was desperate to be more intimate with her, but couldn’t dare to ask.

It seemed like Fiona knew what I needed. She trapped me under her body and caressed me. Her touch was so soft and tender, it paralysed me and aroused me all at once. She played with me, captive under her weight, until she decided it was lunch time. I tried to get things ready, but I was too weak to get away from her, more so as she kept stroking me. It made her laugh at my helplessness, amused at how much I wanted her.

The sandwiches were a surprise. At first, I thought Fiona didn’t like them, and I was really disappointed in myself. It shouldn’t have mattered so much, but failing Fiona was unbearable. Then she made it clear it was the other way around. She was delighted, and I went on and on about the ingredients. Her compliments were such a potent drug, I was addicted to them already.

She drank some juice, and as I was about to do the same, she insisted on feeding it to me from her mouth. The first sip was difficult. It reminded me of Eve’s attempt at humiliating me, and Clara spitting chewed food at me. This time it was different though. They had done it against my will, and while it wasn’t something I had chosen for myself, I did want to please Fiona and be her good girl. Shame, injured dignity, and docile obedience came together in a mix that satisfied obscure needs I didn’t understand, but left a complicated aftertaste behind. I wondered if I’d ever get used to be treated like this, and whether I even wanted to, or whether the discomfort was part of what I yearned for.

After Fiona made me feed her grapes for dessert--a much easier thing than drinking the juice--she smirked and told me to give her a foot rub, in payment for the trip. It was a little embarrassing, but I wanted to do it, so I sat at her feet and she plopped them on my lap. Her socks felt so soft. I was used to wool being rough and itchy, but she told me it was a special type. Of course, nothing but the best for princess Fiona. It was hard not to be resentful of her sometimes.

Nice as the socks were, I preferred the soft, creamy texture of her bare soles, so I got her permission to take them off. Exposing her skin made me long to kiss it, and she spread her toes, letting the air through. The smell wafted on my face and doubled my arousal, but I was there to please my Fiona, not myself, so I went on rubbing, listening to her little sighs and moans, and rejoicing in her contented, proprietary smile. I was hers, she knew it, and she liked it.

All my attention was placed in her reactions, working out how to please her best with my hands. Time seemed to dissolved into an eternal now, made up of boundless sensations: the warm, slick feel of her soles; the shapes of her toes and the way they wiggled in my hands as I lightly squeezed; the thick crud in between them as my fingers gently brushed and scrubbed; the cheesy smell, becoming more pungent as I worked and breathed it in ... It was so overwhelming there wasn’t any room for my thoughts. My movements were choiceless, as I was reduced to the simple awareness of my service and its necessities. I was nothing but hands working in concert to give pleasure, as close to worship as I had ever come, and there was a definite sense of loss when Fiona startled me, making me come out of my reverie and back to myself by asking me if her feet smelled.

I was so confused I gave an indistinct response, and she took the opportunity to shove her toes under my nose, telling me to find out. I couldn’t have stopped her if I wanted to, enthralled by her as I was, but the truth was, I didn’t want to. My hands kept rubbing her other foot as I sniffed. She seductively brushed her toe pads against the tip of my nose, grabbing hold of it, and forcing me to breathe through those sweat-soaked crevices, smelling her sharp scent up close, tinged with that unique personal note that screamed Fiona right into my brain and made me want to grovel like a worm for the privilege of existing in the same world it did.

She amused herself making me describe her smell, but it was fruitless. How could one put words to the ineffable? It was beyond my ability to express or understand. I tried, but it only made clear how far I was from hitting the mark. I could only compare it to mundane, everyday things as I took sniff after intoxicating sniff, though it was something profound, perhaps sacred. She swapped feet, and she demanded me to go on. I blushed. Finding the sublime in the stink of Fiona’s toes proved my insignificance. How could I pretend I was her equal, when I clearly belonged at her feet, lower than the dirt she trod on?

Her toes began to toy with my face, wiping their sweat all over my lips. I wanted nothing more than to open my mouth and have her push them in, or stick my tongue out and seek them myself, but she hadn’t gone that far yesterday, and I didn’t know if she ever would, nor was I able to ask. She kept exploring my face, stroking and pinching my cheeks, and I sighed. I was utterly mortified, but my humble place made my whole body thrum with a pleasure so intense I felt deprived when Fiona’s feet withdrew. She told me to cuddle her, and promised me more foot play later. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Gods, what a melting puddle I was.

She snuggled against me, and let me take a rest as she did so herself. She was so quiet, I thought she’d fallen asleep by the time she proposed to hunt me through the forest. She told me I’d make the perfect prey, and when I showed no interest, she started playing with my breasts. It was as if the respite I’d had never happened. I was desperate for her touch again, and she did promise a reward if I won.

She spent about an hour chasing me. I was easy prey, and she liked toying with me, getting really close and slapping my butt to make me go faster. Every time she outran me, she made me submit to her some way. I wanted to give up so many times, but she insisted I owed her an honest effort, and I did try.

I ended up kissing her hand, her boots, having her soles wiped on my face ... The grit on her boots fell into my mouth as she forced me to lick their dirty bottoms, and though it almost made me gag, I didn’t for a second consider refusing. Licking her shoes didn’t appeal to me, at least not the outsides, but I understood being hers meant doing whatever she wanted, not just the things I found easy or enjoyable. There was something akin to satisfaction in obeying, even when I disliked it, perhaps especially then. I was frustrated, humiliated, tired and desperate by the end of it all.