“I’ll miss you,” I said, “but you’ll be back in September.”
“I’ll miss you, too,” Brad responded, “nobody can satisfy me the way you do.” He leaned over me and started kissing my breasts again, concentrating on my nipples, trying to make them hard.
“Oh, Brad, I’m tired,” I lied. I wasn’t really tired, I was just getting a little bored with his love-making.
Dinner, a movie, and a night together in bed had become our routine week-end activity. When I first met Brad, he had excited me. He had a strong, take-charge attitude that I liked a lot. He didn’t ask me to go out with him as much as he had told me he was taking me out.
At the end of our first date, when he kissed me good-night on the steps of my dormitory, I had resisted him, just for form’s sake, really. But he wouldn’t be resisted. He held my body next to his and kissed me firmly on the mouth, using his tongue in ways I had never felt before. After all, I was only a freshman and not very experienced, sexually.
Then, on our second date, he took me back to his fraternity house and made love to me. He didn’t ask me, he just did it. He took my clothes off of my body as if he owned them, and me. He smiled appreciatively when he saw my thirty-eight inch, D-cup breasts. He kept on smiling when he pulled off my panties and saw that I was a natural blonde. He ran his fingers through the silky soft hairs covering my nearly-virgin pussy and I watched his pants develop that tell-tale bulge that tells a girl when she’s about to get fucked.
I’ve always been proud of my body and it gave me a girlish thrill to see how it could excite a man. My slender waist and hips have been as much fun to flaunt as my nicely shaped boobies and Brad’s unmistakable excitement was confirmation that I was developing from a pretty girl into a beautiful woman.
We made love for hours that first night together, Brad trying new ways to excite and satisfy both me and himself. I didn’t object to anything he did, or asked me to do. His strong, well-muscled body was one that I had always hoped my lover would have. He took complete charge of me that night and I thought that I had found the one man that was right for me.
I soon discovered I was wrong, though. Soon Brad began becoming solicitous toward me. If I was in a bad mood, or not feeling well, he’d want to do things for me, he would act weak and start asking my permission to make love. I couldn’t tell him how much that turned me off. Seeing him acting unsure of himself, as if I could grant or deny him what he wanted, made me dislike, no, despise him.
But I couldn’t say anything to him about it. I’ve never been able to talk to men that way, not as an equal. It just has never seemed right to me. Most women, too, at least those who are older or prettier than me, always have power over me. It has always seemed that I should defer to their wishes, that I should follow their orders rather than trying to assert myself.
That’s how I’ve always felt, but I’ve never done anything about it. I’ve always just waited for the universe to create itself around me and hoped that it would be the way I like it, but never feeling as though I had the power to do anything about it. Little did I know that this was ail about to change.
This was going to be our last night together for at least three months. The last test of our freshman year at UCLA was completed and Brad was ready to leave for his summer job as a steward on board a cruise ship. I envied him a little bit. I liked the idea of taking a cruise to Central America, through the Panama Canal and then up to Florida and back again. I could work on my tan and get paid for the vacation, only having to work half days.
Besides, there was something appealing about working as a servant, something about being given orders and not having to make decisions that appealed to me.
He breathed on my pussy, letting his warm, moist breath tickle and excite me. Then he ran his tongue up and down my slit, gently at first, trying to arouse, rather than satisfy me.
I raised my knees and opened my thighs, giving him better access to my love-box. His tongue worked its way into my slit and began teasing the inside of my vagina. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the sensations Brad was giving me, willing myself to get more excited, wanting to come for him.
Thankfully, Brad turned his body around on the bed and climbed over me, presenting me with his dick to suck while he kept on eating me.
Gratefully, I opened my mouth and guided his cock into it. It felt so much better having him over me, like this, covering my body with his, pinning my head to the bed with his prick. Finally, I was able to relax and enjoy the sensations Brad was giving me with his tongue.
I let the warm, moist feelings build and grow in my stomach. I felt them pulse and expand, getting hotter and wetter, getting closer and closer to orgasm.
Brad’s cock filled my mouth and pressed against the back of my throat. He pumped his hips up and down, fucking me in the mouth while he ate my pussy. This was the kind of thing I liked him to do to me, just take charge and use me for his pleasure. He did it far too infrequently of late. I was glad he was leaving for the summer. As much as I envied him his job, I was relieved that I wouldn’t be seeing him for three months. Maybe, by the time he got back, he’d have found a new girl-friend, or would just be tired of me.
Meanwhile, I was glad that our last night of love-making would at least be satisfying for me. I sucked hard on his dick, feeling it expand and harden even more. I liked the musky, sweet taste of it. I liked this position especially. I liked the feel of his balls rubbing against my nose when he pressed his dick down in my throat, almost choking me with it. I put my hands on his hips so I could guide his thrusts into my mouth.
Avidly, Brad licked and sucked at my pussy. His tongue became increasingly active as he neared his own orgasm. He buried his face in my snatch and forced his tongue as far up my pussy as he could reach. I raised my legs and tilted my hips up to meet his tongue. Brad wrapped his arms around my thighs so he could hold and squeeze my buttocks while he ate me. His rhythmical licking and kneading brought me closer and closer to coming.
With one hand I reached around and took a hold of his scrotum. It was firm and tight. I wanted him to come soon. I felt my own orgasm building and I knew if I could make him come with me I might be able to really get off. I gently rubbed his balls, massaging them in their sack, feeling them move under my fingers.
Brad stopped pumping his hips. He became tense, rigid. He held his dick deep in my mouth and slowly, with tiny little jerks, pushed it deeper and deeper in. At the same time, he moved his mouth up my slit until he was sucking on my clitoris.
I was so grateful to him for finding that spot that I didn’t mind that I could hardly breathe.
He slipped first one, then two fingers into my pussy and massaged the walls of my vagina while his tongue licked and sucked my clit.
I pressed and rubbed his balls harder, willing him to come now, when I was almost ready myself.
Finally, Brad’s cock expanded even more. I felt the head throb and pulse against the back of my throat until, beautifully, wonderfully, sweetly, his come filled my mouth. I held him still and tried to swallow all that I could.
His sweet, musky fluid, so rich and thick, so much of it, was like a key to unlock my own floodgates of pleasure. Gratefully, I relaxed and let my orgasm flow down my loins and out my pussy. Wave after wave of warm, wet pleasure crashed over me, washing me clean, making me happy and almost satisfied, content to receive his flowing jissom into my mouth and down my throat.
Brad relaxed above me, releasing the last of his come into my mouth, before climbing off and turning around, finally lying beside me to drop off to sleep. I tried not to move too much, I wanted him to sleep soundly, but even though I had managed to have an orgasm, I wasn’t completely satisfied. I still felt a stirring, burning sensation in my loins, a wave that wanted to break, a volcano waiting to erupt, why was I destined to be unfulfilled, I wondered. What was wrong with me that I couldn’t be satisfied like other women?
Trying not to make any noise or move any more than was absolutely necessary, I reached my hand down and fingered my clit until I came again, and again. I stayed up half the night masturbating myself, striving for but never quite achieving complete satisfaction. I looked over at Brad’s sleeping body. I imagined him standing over me, dominating me, controlling me. My finger moved faster and faster, my orgasms came hot and heavy. Why couldn’t my real life compare to my fantasy life? I asked myself. Why does life have to be so unfair, so hard?
I cried myself silently to sleep, my hand on my pussy, wishing for satisfaction.
Monday June fifteenth was the start of a new era in my life. I kissed Brad good-bye while I was still in bed, he had to catch an early flight to San Francisco, and went back to sleep. When I finally got up at ten thirty I felt refreshed and alive, better than I had felt in weeks. I think it was just because I was starting a new phase in my life.
I was in UCLA on scholarship. It was my first time away from home and this summer, since I didn’t have to attend classes full time, I could explore the city and get a job and just be an adult in one of the biggest, most exciting cities in the world. The prospect thrilled and excited me.
I got up and took a shower. The warm water felt good and tingly as it poured down over my breasts, I soaped and rinsed myself, slowly, enjoying the sensations. I got out and toweled myself off, looking in the mirror. I liked watching my breasts move and jiggle as I rubbed the towel over my body. The nipples were hard and crinkly, pink and sensitive.
I dressed in a conservative summer outfit, with a loose, full skirt and comfortable cotton blouse. I applied a little light make-up and brushed out my long, blonde hair. This was going to be a new and exciting experience for me. I was on my own for the first time and looking forward to whatever the world might have in store.
My plan was to take one class over the summer quarter, thereby continuing my eligibility to collect scholarship money and qualify for living in the dormitory. My dormitory room cost about half of what I would have to pay for a similar apartment off campus. But since I’d only be taking one class I wouldn’t get enough scholarship money to cover all my living expenses. I figured I could get a part-time job to bring in the rest of the money I’d need, and since I’d only be taking one class I’d have enough time to myself to enjoy my summer and almost have a real vacation.
I left the dormitory and walked down to the croissant shop in Westwood Village. On the way I picked up a newspaper from a vending machine on the corner. Once there I ordered coffee and opened the paper to the classified ads. Nothing looked as interesting as I had hoped until I came to this one: PART-TIME HOUSEKEEPER
No experience necessary.
Ality to follow orders a must!
Flexible hours, live-in possible.
Pay commensurate with ability.
(213) 555-3825
“Ability to follow orders a must!” That phrase made my thighs tingle and gave me the sensation of having butterflies in my stomach. I went to the pay-phone at the back of the shop and dialed the number. A man’s voice answered.
“3825,” he said, non-committally.
“Hello,” I stammered a little, feeling more nervous than the situation called for, “I’m calling in response to the ad for a part-time housekeeper.”
“Do you have any experience?”
“No, but I’m a fast learner and I’m very thorough,” I said.
“Are you presently employed?”
“No, I’m a student at UCLA. I’m taking a summer class and need to supplement my scholarship. I’m very good at taking orders.”
“I see. Can you come for an interview this morning?”
“Yes, I can.” I was getting excited by the possibility of finding a job that fit my schedule so quickly.
He gave me directions to the house and I hung up. My palms were moist. The address was in Bel Air, just five minutes from UCLA. I ran back to the dorm and jumped in my car. The appointment was for eleven o’clock, I got there at ten forty-five. I rang the bell.
“Yes?” The disembodied voice came from a small loudspeaker just over the door-bell button.
“My name is Jodie Cramer. I have an eleven o’clock appointment for a job interview,” I spoke into the speaker.
“You’re early,” came the reply, then silence.
“I’m sorry,” I said, “I didn’t want to be late.”
There was no response for a few moments, just the faint hum of electricity in the speaker. The sun was bright and birds were singing. The house looked airy and well kept. I wanted to make a good impression. I wanted to get the job, but I seemed to be getting off to a bad start.
“Should I leave and come back at eleven?” I asked.
“That will not be necessary. Come in.” The door buzzed and I pushed it. It swung open easily. I stepped inside.
The entry-way was large and bright, with marble floors and mirrored walls. Skylights and indoor plants contributed to the illusion of space. I closed the door behind me and waited.
Minutes passed and nothing happened. Tentatively, I stepped further into the house, toward the massive curved staircase at the end of the hall. “Hello?” I called out.
There was no response.
“Hello,” I called again, walking further into the house.
“Is this how you follow instructions?” The voice came from behind me. I turned with a start. He had come from one of the doors that opened off the entry-way.
He was a good looking man, not quite middle-aged with slightly graying dark hair and pale blue eyes.
“Oh!” I was so startled I nearly dropped my purse. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you wanted me to wait.”
“Had I wanted you to do anything I would have told you so.” He clasped His hands behind His back and walked slowly toward me, looking me up and down appraisingly.
I felt myself starting to blush. “Please, I didn’t understand.”
“Do not apologize, Miss, just try to relax.” He walked slowly around me, examining me like a side of meat.
I looked down at the floor. I could tell that He was the kind of man that likes to be in charge. He was using this technique to intimidate me, to establish His dominance over me. I realized all this about Him in just the few moments I had been in His presence. I realized all this and I liked it.
I know this is not the way most modern, liberated women think or feel, but sometimes, most times, in fact, I don’t feel liberated. I like to feel that someone else can tell me what’s best for me, can look out for my best interests.
So, I acted more unsure of myself than I really felt in order that He would feel superior to me and maybe want to hire me.
“Come into my office,” He said, finally.
I followed Him through the door through which He had come. He had broad shoulders and a trim waist. He moved with a lithe grace and assurance that I could not help but admire. If this was His house He was fabulously wealthy and acted as though He deserved to be.
“Have a seat Miss Cramer,” He said, sitting down behind His desk.
I sat down facing Him, sitting up straight, on the edge of the chair, not leaning back, looking as expectant as I could.
“As I stated in my advertisement, Miss Cramer, an ability to follow instructions is more important to me than simply having experience.”
“Yes, I understand,” I said.
“And yet the first thing you have demonstrated to me is an inability, or perhaps merely an unwillingness to follow even the simplest instructions.”
“But I wanted to be prompt, to show you that I was eager to make a good impression.”
“Then you think I should give you the benefit of the doubt?”
“Oh yes, please, I was trying to do the right thing, I just didn’t understand.”
“And when you began wandering through my house, instead of simply waiting for me?”
“I’m sorry, I was really out of line there.” I twisted my fingers together nervously. “I was… confused… I thought… I didn’t know what to think. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“But, Miss Cramer, can you really predict, with certainty, that you will never make a similar mistake?”
“But, Mister… I’m sorry I don’t know your name.” He didn’t say anything, He just smiled a little. “Sir, I can only assure you that I will try to do my very best for you.”
“And if you should fail?”
“Then, I suppose, you would have to take measures to correct me.” I looked down but caught a glimpse of Him through lowered lashes, His smile grew a little wider.
“Miss Cramer, although we seem to have gotten off to an unfortunate start, I am inclined to be generous toward you. I would like to give you a chance to prove yourself. Would you like that?”
“Oh, yes!” I gave Him my brightest smile. “I would like that very much. When would you like me to start?”
“Miss Cramer,” He laughed softly, “we have not discussed your salary, you do not even know my name. Perhaps you are a bit too trusting?”
“Oh, no, Sir,” I said. “Please don’t think me forward or naive, but I make up my mind about people very quickly. I knew almost immediately that you were someone I could trust.”
“How did you know that?”
“By the way you looked at me, and,” I allowed myself to blush, “the way you corrected me so gently.”
“Well, I will try not to betray your trust,” He said. “When can you start?”
“I just completed my last quarter at UCLA and my summer session doesn’t start for another three weeks, so I’m completely available right now.”
“Very good, come with me.”
The maid’s quarters consisted of a suite of three rooms, a bedroom, a bathroom and a sitting, or living room. In the bedroom closet was an assortment of maid’s uniforms.
“Find a uniform that fits,” He told me, “and come back downstairs to my office.” Then He left me alone.
I stripped down to my bra, panties, and pantyhose. The first uniform I tried on was much too big. I put it back on its hanger and selected another. This one was far too small. Feeling like Goldilocks I hung that one back up and picked out a third. This one seemed to fit fairly well. I looked at myself in the full-length mirror on the closet door. The image presented was not unsatisfactory to me.
The uniform was of the sexy French maid variety. It was made of black silk and had a very short skirt and an equally low-cut top. It fit my torso tightly. I looked like I had been poured into it, but the effect was ruined by my bra straps and pantyhose. The skirt flared out like a ballet dancer’s tutu, revealing my legs all the way up to the bottom curves of my buttocks. I like my legs and I have a very shapely ass, but the maid’s uniform was not flattering with my panties and pantyhose showing. I decided to do something about it.
I went to the bureau and looked in the drawers. There were some black silk stockings and garter belts, but no other underwear. Remembering what He — I still didn’t know His name — had said about doing only what I was told and no more, I hesitated. I was already walking on thin ice, I didn’t want to take any chances, but I wanted to impress Him if I could.
I took off everything, I stripped naked. I put on one of the black lace garter belts and some black silk hose. Then I went back to the closet and selected a uniform that was slightly smaller than the one that had just fit me. I struggled into it and looked in the mirror. It was just what I wanted.
The uniform was so tight I could hardly breathe. It pinched my mid-section making me look wasp-waisted. My breasts were barely contained by the bodice, it seemed they would pop out with every intake of breath. I walked back and forth in front of the mirror, watching them bounce and jiggle provocatively.
Another trip to the bureau uncovered starched white collars and cuffs, with bow-ties and cuff-links already attached. I put some on. The effect was a good one. I was looking more and more like a fantasy version of a sexy French maid and I liked it. In another drawer I found a white lace apron to tie around my waist. I was getting more and more sexually excited as I found myself putting on a new persona as well as a uniform.
Back in the closet I found some black, patent leather, high-heeled shoes. None of them fit me very well but I was able to find a pair that were only slightly small on my feet. The heels were over four inches high. I had never worn heels that tall before in my life and I had a little trouble balancing on them. I went back to the mirror to examine the finished product.
I had to smile at my own reflection. I had never looked so sexy or so cheap before in my life. Seen from the front I was PG-13, sexy but not smutty. You could see the tops of my stockings and a bit of the garters under my skirt while my breasts billowed out over my bodice, almost but not quite showing my nipples. From the side I would get an R-rating. The skirt flared out enough to reveal the bottom curve of my ass, showing that I was not wearing any under garments. From the rear, however, as soon as I moved, I became X-rated. With every step the crack of my ass and some wispy blonde pussy hairs were revealed to anyone who happened to be looking I resisted the temptation to masturbate myself went downstairs to get my new employer’s approval.
“Miss Cramer,” He smiled broadly, “you have exceeded my instructions.”
“I only tried to please you, Sir.”
“But you did not follow my orders,” He was still smiling, “you took initiative without my permission.”
“I’m so sorry. Is there some way I can redeem myself?”
“Perhaps we can come to some arrangement,” He said.
“Thank you, Sir.”
“Are you comfortable in that uniform?”
“Well, yes and no.”
“Please be more specific.”
“The uniform is so tight I could hardly close the zipper and it makes it difficult for me to breathe.”
“Then why did you not select a larger size?”
“This one looked better on me.”
“I see, I see.” He nodded at me, smiling. He put His fingertips together, “Is there anything else?” He asked.
“Yes,” I looked down, trying to appear meek, “the shoes are too tight. I couldn’t find a larger pair in the closet.”
“That is too bad.” He clucked His tongue. “Perhaps, one day, we may be able to buy you a more suitable pair.”
“Thank you, I would like that,” I replied.
“Miss Cramer, I think I will be very happy with your services. You have shown a willingness to learn that is rare in these modern times. Would you like to see where your duties will take you?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
“I have a staff that comes in twice a week to clean and maintain my house,” He said. “They take care of all of the usual ‘heavy’ work of housekeeping. The position you will fill is more specialized, more refined, if you will.”
“I’m still not sure what you mean, Sir,” I said, lying, knowing exactly what He was getting to but wanting to hear Him say it.
“Your responsibilities will be confined to one room. Would you like to see it?”
“You mean that I will not have to clean and dust this whole house but just one room of it?” I asked.
“That is precisely right. Is this acceptable to you?”
I followed Him down the hallway to His special room. My knees were wobbly, not just from the unaccustomed high-heeled shoes, but from the growing sense of sexual excitement that was building between us. I felt myself starting to get warm, and wet. I wondered what would happen if I got so excited that I started dripping on the carpet. Would He be flattered that I found Him so exciting, or would He be angry with me for dirtying His rug?
Up the stairs and down the hall, past the maid’s quarters to the very end of the corridor, I was getting more excited with every step. When we finally arrived at the door I was nearly trembling with anticipation.
“I hope you appreciate what an honor I am paying you by showing you this room after such a short acquaintance, Miss Cramer.”
“I do, Sir, I do.”
He slowly opened the door. I almost expected it to squeak on its hinges. Inside, the room was dim, a sharp contrast to the brightness of the rest of the house.
“Come in, Miss Cramer, don’t be bashful,” He said, gently.
I stepped in slowly, holding my breath, looking around.
“This is my special room, my pleasure room.” He walked over to a large, overstuffed armchair and sat in it. “In this room, all thoughts, all activities are directed to enjoyment. It is a kind of shrine to hedonism. Does this shock you?”
“No, Sir,” I said slowly. “I have never seen a room like this before, but it is your room, and it is not my place to make judgments about it.”
“Miss Cramer, you amaze me. I think we will develop a worthwhile relationship, in time. But first, why don’t you look around and see if you can find something that interests you?”
“Excuse me?”
“Just take your time and explore my little room here. This will be your domain, your responsibility to keep clean and orderly. I want you to feel at home and I want to see what pleases you.”
I stood in the middle of the room and turned in a circle, slowly, trying to take in everything at once. On every wall were pictures of women, beautiful naked women. Some of them were in the midst of sexual intercourse, others were doing things I could not quite decipher but all of them were unmistakably experiencing ecstasy. I wanted to feel what they were feeling.
At the same time I was aware of His eyes on me, watching me. I stood for a long time with my back to Him, letting Him see the bottom of my ass. I wondered if He was getting as excited as I was. It was impossible to tell, He gave me no indication at all.
Against one wall was a glass display case. I walked over to it, keeping my legs slightly apart so that He could have glimpses of my pussy. I had never intentionally exposed myself to anyone before. I found I liked it. In the case was an assortment of dildoes. They were arranged according to size, starting with one about the size of my little finger and ranging up to one with two heads that must have been over two feet long. In between were dildoes of every shape and description imaginable, from smooth plastic battery operated vibrators, to large black rubber artificial penises with straps and reservoirs so they could be filled with liquid and worn.
“May I open the case?” I asked.
“Of course you may. I want you to enjoy yourself.”
I selected one from the middle of the display. It was a realistic looking ten inch vibrator. The head and shaft were intricately formed to simulate folds of skin and veins. I was getting increasingly excited just holding it.
“A very good selection, Miss Jodie.”
I turned to face Him, holding the dildoe to my breast, as if it were a treasured object.
“In the lower drawer you’ll find a plastic sheet,” He said, “bring it here.”
I did so and stood in front of Him with the dildoe in one hand and the sheet in the other.
“Now, I want you to spread the sheet out on the floor in front of me.”
I did as He instructed. My thighs and breasts were beginning to tingle.
“Please, just sit down and enjoy yourself,” He smiled at me.
“Excuse me, but I want to be sure I understand you,” I said. “You’ve offered me a job as a maid, but what you really have in mind is for me to sexually exhibit myself to you.”
“That is what I’ve asked you to do now. I may have other instructions for you at other times.” The smile faded from His face and He looked at me sternly. “You claimed that you were able to follow orders. If you misrepresented yourself, then I may have to take steps to correct the problem.”
What would He do to “correct the problem” I wondered. Would it involve some discipline?
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” I said. “Sometimes I say things I don’t really mean.”
“You must learn to control yourself. Self-discipline is very important in life, especially for someone as young and beautiful as yourself.”
“I apologize, I’ll try to be good from now on.”
“That’s better, that’s the proper attitude for someone in your position.”
With no further discussion, I spread the plastic sheet on the floor in front of His chair. I sat down on it right in front of Him. I raised my knees and spread my legs, giving Him a clear view of my sex.
The plastic already began to stick to my skin, it felt hot and clammy, very confining and uncomfortable. I switched on the vibrator and placed it at the entrance to my vagina.
With two fingers of my left hand I spread my pussy lips apart while I teased my clitoris with the head of the dildoe. My cunt was already wet and shining, the dildoe made me hotter, drops of pussy juice ran out of my cunt and dripped down my ass, making my buttocks stick to the plastic sheet even more.
I looked up at Him. He was watching me intently but otherwise sat motionless in His chair. His eyes were fixed on my cunt and what I was doing to it.
I pushed the dildoe into my vagina, slowly, a centimeter at a time, watching Him for a reaction all the time. Waves of pleasure began to spread out from the vibrator, up my pussy, through my stomach, all the way to my head.
My breathing was getting ragged, I could feel my orgasm starting to build. I was hot and embarrassed at the same time.
“Don’t you want to… join me?” I asked. “I could enjoy myself more if this were you.” I pushed the dildoe all the way into my vagina, just the base of it could be seen protruding from my pussy lips.
“You haven’t earned it yet,” He said, smirking just a little.
I felt myself flush red, all the way from my face all the way down to my breasts. “Please, I can make you happy, and you’ll make me very happy. Please.”
I laid down on my back and spread my legs wide. I pushed the dildoe in and out of my vagina quickly, feeling my orgasm getting closer and closer.
“Please, please, I’m almost coming. I want you to come with me. Come in me, please,” I begged Him.
“You haven’t earned my pleasure yet, my dear,” He said. “But I will give you a sample.”
He stood up and unzipped His pants. I licked my lips in anticipation. He pulled out His prick and started stroking it. It was ten inches long, hard and luscious looking.
“Just lie there, my dear, enjoy yourself. I would like to watch you experience your orgasm while I have mine.”
He stood over me, His feet between my legs. He was watching His prick and my cunt at the same time.
“Please, come now,” I moaned, “I’m almost there. Come with me, please… Master.”
I surprised myself, I had never intended to call Him that, I hadn’t even thought of it. But when I did, when “Master” had left my lips, it felt good, and right, and natural. That’s what I had been looking for all my life, a master, someone to rule me, control me, be over me, as He was now.
I reached into my bodice and pulled out my breasts. I tweaked my nipples while I shoved the vibrator back and forth in my pussy.
He stroked His prick faster. I saw the head get redder and more swollen.
“That’s right, my dear, you’ve just passed your first test. I am your master, you are my willing servant. Your whole purpose in life is to serve me. Your only reason for living is to give me pleasure. Is that understood?”
“Oh, yes, Master, yes, Master. Please show me your pleasure. I’m coming now. Ah, ah, aaahhh, yes, NOW! PLEASE!”
He gritted His teeth and pumped His hips back and forth. Long, creamy gobs of come erupted from His prick and splattered all over me. Warm, gooey, spurts of His love juice landed in my hair, on my face and breasts. I opened my mouth and caught some of it on my tongue. It hit me like electricity, sending jolts of pleasure through me.
His come mixed with my come, some dripped on my cunt and made my orgasm last even longer.
“Oh, Master,” I moaned, “you have given me more pleasure than I deserve.” My hand was still massaging my tits while I held the dildoe up my cunt with the other. “Oh, Master, Master, Master.”
I rolled over and kneeled at His feet. I licked the drops of His come up off the plastic sheet, savoring every drop. I kissed the toes of His shoes. I embraced His ankles and kissed the cuffs of His pants.
“Master, I am yours.”
“I’ll miss you, too,” Brad responded, “nobody can satisfy me the way you do.” He leaned over me and started kissing my breasts again, concentrating on my nipples, trying to make them hard.
“Oh, Brad, I’m tired,” I lied. I wasn’t really tired, I was just getting a little bored with his love-making.
Dinner, a movie, and a night together in bed had become our routine week-end activity. When I first met Brad, he had excited me. He had a strong, take-charge attitude that I liked a lot. He didn’t ask me to go out with him as much as he had told me he was taking me out.
At the end of our first date, when he kissed me good-night on the steps of my dormitory, I had resisted him, just for form’s sake, really. But he wouldn’t be resisted. He held my body next to his and kissed me firmly on the mouth, using his tongue in ways I had never felt before. After all, I was only a freshman and not very experienced, sexually.
Then, on our second date, he took me back to his fraternity house and made love to me. He didn’t ask me, he just did it. He took my clothes off of my body as if he owned them, and me. He smiled appreciatively when he saw my thirty-eight inch, D-cup breasts. He kept on smiling when he pulled off my panties and saw that I was a natural blonde. He ran his fingers through the silky soft hairs covering my nearly-virgin pussy and I watched his pants develop that tell-tale bulge that tells a girl when she’s about to get fucked.
I’ve always been proud of my body and it gave me a girlish thrill to see how it could excite a man. My slender waist and hips have been as much fun to flaunt as my nicely shaped boobies and Brad’s unmistakable excitement was confirmation that I was developing from a pretty girl into a beautiful woman.
We made love for hours that first night together, Brad trying new ways to excite and satisfy both me and himself. I didn’t object to anything he did, or asked me to do. His strong, well-muscled body was one that I had always hoped my lover would have. He took complete charge of me that night and I thought that I had found the one man that was right for me.
I soon discovered I was wrong, though. Soon Brad began becoming solicitous toward me. If I was in a bad mood, or not feeling well, he’d want to do things for me, he would act weak and start asking my permission to make love. I couldn’t tell him how much that turned me off. Seeing him acting unsure of himself, as if I could grant or deny him what he wanted, made me dislike, no, despise him.
But I couldn’t say anything to him about it. I’ve never been able to talk to men that way, not as an equal. It just has never seemed right to me. Most women, too, at least those who are older or prettier than me, always have power over me. It has always seemed that I should defer to their wishes, that I should follow their orders rather than trying to assert myself.
That’s how I’ve always felt, but I’ve never done anything about it. I’ve always just waited for the universe to create itself around me and hoped that it would be the way I like it, but never feeling as though I had the power to do anything about it. Little did I know that this was ail about to change.
This was going to be our last night together for at least three months. The last test of our freshman year at UCLA was completed and Brad was ready to leave for his summer job as a steward on board a cruise ship. I envied him a little bit. I liked the idea of taking a cruise to Central America, through the Panama Canal and then up to Florida and back again. I could work on my tan and get paid for the vacation, only having to work half days.
Besides, there was something appealing about working as a servant, something about being given orders and not having to make decisions that appealed to me.
*****
“Maybe this will wake you up,” he said, moving down from my breasts. His tongue trailed down my firm, smooth abdomen, playing momentarily at my navel, and then plunged on, further down to the center of my sex-self.He breathed on my pussy, letting his warm, moist breath tickle and excite me. Then he ran his tongue up and down my slit, gently at first, trying to arouse, rather than satisfy me.
I raised my knees and opened my thighs, giving him better access to my love-box. His tongue worked its way into my slit and began teasing the inside of my vagina. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the sensations Brad was giving me, willing myself to get more excited, wanting to come for him.
Thankfully, Brad turned his body around on the bed and climbed over me, presenting me with his dick to suck while he kept on eating me.
Gratefully, I opened my mouth and guided his cock into it. It felt so much better having him over me, like this, covering my body with his, pinning my head to the bed with his prick. Finally, I was able to relax and enjoy the sensations Brad was giving me with his tongue.
I let the warm, moist feelings build and grow in my stomach. I felt them pulse and expand, getting hotter and wetter, getting closer and closer to orgasm.
Brad’s cock filled my mouth and pressed against the back of my throat. He pumped his hips up and down, fucking me in the mouth while he ate my pussy. This was the kind of thing I liked him to do to me, just take charge and use me for his pleasure. He did it far too infrequently of late. I was glad he was leaving for the summer. As much as I envied him his job, I was relieved that I wouldn’t be seeing him for three months. Maybe, by the time he got back, he’d have found a new girl-friend, or would just be tired of me.
Meanwhile, I was glad that our last night of love-making would at least be satisfying for me. I sucked hard on his dick, feeling it expand and harden even more. I liked the musky, sweet taste of it. I liked this position especially. I liked the feel of his balls rubbing against my nose when he pressed his dick down in my throat, almost choking me with it. I put my hands on his hips so I could guide his thrusts into my mouth.
Avidly, Brad licked and sucked at my pussy. His tongue became increasingly active as he neared his own orgasm. He buried his face in my snatch and forced his tongue as far up my pussy as he could reach. I raised my legs and tilted my hips up to meet his tongue. Brad wrapped his arms around my thighs so he could hold and squeeze my buttocks while he ate me. His rhythmical licking and kneading brought me closer and closer to coming.
With one hand I reached around and took a hold of his scrotum. It was firm and tight. I wanted him to come soon. I felt my own orgasm building and I knew if I could make him come with me I might be able to really get off. I gently rubbed his balls, massaging them in their sack, feeling them move under my fingers.
Brad stopped pumping his hips. He became tense, rigid. He held his dick deep in my mouth and slowly, with tiny little jerks, pushed it deeper and deeper in. At the same time, he moved his mouth up my slit until he was sucking on my clitoris.
I was so grateful to him for finding that spot that I didn’t mind that I could hardly breathe.
He slipped first one, then two fingers into my pussy and massaged the walls of my vagina while his tongue licked and sucked my clit.
I pressed and rubbed his balls harder, willing him to come now, when I was almost ready myself.
Finally, Brad’s cock expanded even more. I felt the head throb and pulse against the back of my throat until, beautifully, wonderfully, sweetly, his come filled my mouth. I held him still and tried to swallow all that I could.
His sweet, musky fluid, so rich and thick, so much of it, was like a key to unlock my own floodgates of pleasure. Gratefully, I relaxed and let my orgasm flow down my loins and out my pussy. Wave after wave of warm, wet pleasure crashed over me, washing me clean, making me happy and almost satisfied, content to receive his flowing jissom into my mouth and down my throat.
Brad relaxed above me, releasing the last of his come into my mouth, before climbing off and turning around, finally lying beside me to drop off to sleep. I tried not to move too much, I wanted him to sleep soundly, but even though I had managed to have an orgasm, I wasn’t completely satisfied. I still felt a stirring, burning sensation in my loins, a wave that wanted to break, a volcano waiting to erupt, why was I destined to be unfulfilled, I wondered. What was wrong with me that I couldn’t be satisfied like other women?
Trying not to make any noise or move any more than was absolutely necessary, I reached my hand down and fingered my clit until I came again, and again. I stayed up half the night masturbating myself, striving for but never quite achieving complete satisfaction. I looked over at Brad’s sleeping body. I imagined him standing over me, dominating me, controlling me. My finger moved faster and faster, my orgasms came hot and heavy. Why couldn’t my real life compare to my fantasy life? I asked myself. Why does life have to be so unfair, so hard?
I cried myself silently to sleep, my hand on my pussy, wishing for satisfaction.
Monday June fifteenth was the start of a new era in my life. I kissed Brad good-bye while I was still in bed, he had to catch an early flight to San Francisco, and went back to sleep. When I finally got up at ten thirty I felt refreshed and alive, better than I had felt in weeks. I think it was just because I was starting a new phase in my life.
I was in UCLA on scholarship. It was my first time away from home and this summer, since I didn’t have to attend classes full time, I could explore the city and get a job and just be an adult in one of the biggest, most exciting cities in the world. The prospect thrilled and excited me.
I got up and took a shower. The warm water felt good and tingly as it poured down over my breasts, I soaped and rinsed myself, slowly, enjoying the sensations. I got out and toweled myself off, looking in the mirror. I liked watching my breasts move and jiggle as I rubbed the towel over my body. The nipples were hard and crinkly, pink and sensitive.
I dressed in a conservative summer outfit, with a loose, full skirt and comfortable cotton blouse. I applied a little light make-up and brushed out my long, blonde hair. This was going to be a new and exciting experience for me. I was on my own for the first time and looking forward to whatever the world might have in store.
My plan was to take one class over the summer quarter, thereby continuing my eligibility to collect scholarship money and qualify for living in the dormitory. My dormitory room cost about half of what I would have to pay for a similar apartment off campus. But since I’d only be taking one class I wouldn’t get enough scholarship money to cover all my living expenses. I figured I could get a part-time job to bring in the rest of the money I’d need, and since I’d only be taking one class I’d have enough time to myself to enjoy my summer and almost have a real vacation.
I left the dormitory and walked down to the croissant shop in Westwood Village. On the way I picked up a newspaper from a vending machine on the corner. Once there I ordered coffee and opened the paper to the classified ads. Nothing looked as interesting as I had hoped until I came to this one: PART-TIME HOUSEKEEPER
No experience necessary.
Ality to follow orders a must!
Flexible hours, live-in possible.
Pay commensurate with ability.
(213) 555-3825
“Ability to follow orders a must!” That phrase made my thighs tingle and gave me the sensation of having butterflies in my stomach. I went to the pay-phone at the back of the shop and dialed the number. A man’s voice answered.
“3825,” he said, non-committally.
“Hello,” I stammered a little, feeling more nervous than the situation called for, “I’m calling in response to the ad for a part-time housekeeper.”
“Do you have any experience?”
“No, but I’m a fast learner and I’m very thorough,” I said.
“Are you presently employed?”
“No, I’m a student at UCLA. I’m taking a summer class and need to supplement my scholarship. I’m very good at taking orders.”
“I see. Can you come for an interview this morning?”
“Yes, I can.” I was getting excited by the possibility of finding a job that fit my schedule so quickly.
He gave me directions to the house and I hung up. My palms were moist. The address was in Bel Air, just five minutes from UCLA. I ran back to the dorm and jumped in my car. The appointment was for eleven o’clock, I got there at ten forty-five. I rang the bell.
“Yes?” The disembodied voice came from a small loudspeaker just over the door-bell button.
“My name is Jodie Cramer. I have an eleven o’clock appointment for a job interview,” I spoke into the speaker.
“You’re early,” came the reply, then silence.
“I’m sorry,” I said, “I didn’t want to be late.”
There was no response for a few moments, just the faint hum of electricity in the speaker. The sun was bright and birds were singing. The house looked airy and well kept. I wanted to make a good impression. I wanted to get the job, but I seemed to be getting off to a bad start.
“Should I leave and come back at eleven?” I asked.
“That will not be necessary. Come in.” The door buzzed and I pushed it. It swung open easily. I stepped inside.
The entry-way was large and bright, with marble floors and mirrored walls. Skylights and indoor plants contributed to the illusion of space. I closed the door behind me and waited.
Minutes passed and nothing happened. Tentatively, I stepped further into the house, toward the massive curved staircase at the end of the hall. “Hello?” I called out.
There was no response.
“Hello,” I called again, walking further into the house.
“Is this how you follow instructions?” The voice came from behind me. I turned with a start. He had come from one of the doors that opened off the entry-way.
He was a good looking man, not quite middle-aged with slightly graying dark hair and pale blue eyes.
“Oh!” I was so startled I nearly dropped my purse. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you wanted me to wait.”
“Had I wanted you to do anything I would have told you so.” He clasped His hands behind His back and walked slowly toward me, looking me up and down appraisingly.
I felt myself starting to blush. “Please, I didn’t understand.”
“Do not apologize, Miss, just try to relax.” He walked slowly around me, examining me like a side of meat.
I looked down at the floor. I could tell that He was the kind of man that likes to be in charge. He was using this technique to intimidate me, to establish His dominance over me. I realized all this about Him in just the few moments I had been in His presence. I realized all this and I liked it.
I know this is not the way most modern, liberated women think or feel, but sometimes, most times, in fact, I don’t feel liberated. I like to feel that someone else can tell me what’s best for me, can look out for my best interests.
So, I acted more unsure of myself than I really felt in order that He would feel superior to me and maybe want to hire me.
“Come into my office,” He said, finally.
I followed Him through the door through which He had come. He had broad shoulders and a trim waist. He moved with a lithe grace and assurance that I could not help but admire. If this was His house He was fabulously wealthy and acted as though He deserved to be.
“Have a seat Miss Cramer,” He said, sitting down behind His desk.
I sat down facing Him, sitting up straight, on the edge of the chair, not leaning back, looking as expectant as I could.
“As I stated in my advertisement, Miss Cramer, an ability to follow instructions is more important to me than simply having experience.”
“Yes, I understand,” I said.
“And yet the first thing you have demonstrated to me is an inability, or perhaps merely an unwillingness to follow even the simplest instructions.”
“But I wanted to be prompt, to show you that I was eager to make a good impression.”
“Then you think I should give you the benefit of the doubt?”
“Oh yes, please, I was trying to do the right thing, I just didn’t understand.”
“And when you began wandering through my house, instead of simply waiting for me?”
“I’m sorry, I was really out of line there.” I twisted my fingers together nervously. “I was… confused… I thought… I didn’t know what to think. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“But, Miss Cramer, can you really predict, with certainty, that you will never make a similar mistake?”
“But, Mister… I’m sorry I don’t know your name.” He didn’t say anything, He just smiled a little. “Sir, I can only assure you that I will try to do my very best for you.”
“And if you should fail?”
“Then, I suppose, you would have to take measures to correct me.” I looked down but caught a glimpse of Him through lowered lashes, His smile grew a little wider.
“Miss Cramer, although we seem to have gotten off to an unfortunate start, I am inclined to be generous toward you. I would like to give you a chance to prove yourself. Would you like that?”
“Oh, yes!” I gave Him my brightest smile. “I would like that very much. When would you like me to start?”
“Miss Cramer,” He laughed softly, “we have not discussed your salary, you do not even know my name. Perhaps you are a bit too trusting?”
“Oh, no, Sir,” I said. “Please don’t think me forward or naive, but I make up my mind about people very quickly. I knew almost immediately that you were someone I could trust.”
“How did you know that?”
“By the way you looked at me, and,” I allowed myself to blush, “the way you corrected me so gently.”
“Well, I will try not to betray your trust,” He said. “When can you start?”
“I just completed my last quarter at UCLA and my summer session doesn’t start for another three weeks, so I’m completely available right now.”
“Very good, come with me.”
*****
I followed Him through the house to the maid’s quarters. It was the largest, most luxurious house I had ever been in. The furnishings were modest, modern, and understated, giving the impression of subdued elegance.The maid’s quarters consisted of a suite of three rooms, a bedroom, a bathroom and a sitting, or living room. In the bedroom closet was an assortment of maid’s uniforms.
“Find a uniform that fits,” He told me, “and come back downstairs to my office.” Then He left me alone.
I stripped down to my bra, panties, and pantyhose. The first uniform I tried on was much too big. I put it back on its hanger and selected another. This one was far too small. Feeling like Goldilocks I hung that one back up and picked out a third. This one seemed to fit fairly well. I looked at myself in the full-length mirror on the closet door. The image presented was not unsatisfactory to me.
The uniform was of the sexy French maid variety. It was made of black silk and had a very short skirt and an equally low-cut top. It fit my torso tightly. I looked like I had been poured into it, but the effect was ruined by my bra straps and pantyhose. The skirt flared out like a ballet dancer’s tutu, revealing my legs all the way up to the bottom curves of my buttocks. I like my legs and I have a very shapely ass, but the maid’s uniform was not flattering with my panties and pantyhose showing. I decided to do something about it.
I went to the bureau and looked in the drawers. There were some black silk stockings and garter belts, but no other underwear. Remembering what He — I still didn’t know His name — had said about doing only what I was told and no more, I hesitated. I was already walking on thin ice, I didn’t want to take any chances, but I wanted to impress Him if I could.
I took off everything, I stripped naked. I put on one of the black lace garter belts and some black silk hose. Then I went back to the closet and selected a uniform that was slightly smaller than the one that had just fit me. I struggled into it and looked in the mirror. It was just what I wanted.
The uniform was so tight I could hardly breathe. It pinched my mid-section making me look wasp-waisted. My breasts were barely contained by the bodice, it seemed they would pop out with every intake of breath. I walked back and forth in front of the mirror, watching them bounce and jiggle provocatively.
Another trip to the bureau uncovered starched white collars and cuffs, with bow-ties and cuff-links already attached. I put some on. The effect was a good one. I was looking more and more like a fantasy version of a sexy French maid and I liked it. In another drawer I found a white lace apron to tie around my waist. I was getting more and more sexually excited as I found myself putting on a new persona as well as a uniform.
Back in the closet I found some black, patent leather, high-heeled shoes. None of them fit me very well but I was able to find a pair that were only slightly small on my feet. The heels were over four inches high. I had never worn heels that tall before in my life and I had a little trouble balancing on them. I went back to the mirror to examine the finished product.
I had to smile at my own reflection. I had never looked so sexy or so cheap before in my life. Seen from the front I was PG-13, sexy but not smutty. You could see the tops of my stockings and a bit of the garters under my skirt while my breasts billowed out over my bodice, almost but not quite showing my nipples. From the side I would get an R-rating. The skirt flared out enough to reveal the bottom curve of my ass, showing that I was not wearing any under garments. From the rear, however, as soon as I moved, I became X-rated. With every step the crack of my ass and some wispy blonde pussy hairs were revealed to anyone who happened to be looking I resisted the temptation to masturbate myself went downstairs to get my new employer’s approval.
*****
“Come in,” He called in reply to my knock I closed the door behind me as I entered and walked to His desk. I had to walk slowly as I was still unsteady on my feet, not feeling comfortable in such high heels. They made me lean forward, as though I were presenting my breasts to whoever I was approaching.“Miss Cramer,” He smiled broadly, “you have exceeded my instructions.”
“I only tried to please you, Sir.”
“But you did not follow my orders,” He was still smiling, “you took initiative without my permission.”
“I’m so sorry. Is there some way I can redeem myself?”
“Perhaps we can come to some arrangement,” He said.
“Thank you, Sir.”
“Are you comfortable in that uniform?”
“Well, yes and no.”
“Please be more specific.”
“The uniform is so tight I could hardly close the zipper and it makes it difficult for me to breathe.”
“Then why did you not select a larger size?”
“This one looked better on me.”
“I see, I see.” He nodded at me, smiling. He put His fingertips together, “Is there anything else?” He asked.
“Yes,” I looked down, trying to appear meek, “the shoes are too tight. I couldn’t find a larger pair in the closet.”
“That is too bad.” He clucked His tongue. “Perhaps, one day, we may be able to buy you a more suitable pair.”
“Thank you, I would like that,” I replied.
“Miss Cramer, I think I will be very happy with your services. You have shown a willingness to learn that is rare in these modern times. Would you like to see where your duties will take you?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
“I have a staff that comes in twice a week to clean and maintain my house,” He said. “They take care of all of the usual ‘heavy’ work of housekeeping. The position you will fill is more specialized, more refined, if you will.”
“I’m still not sure what you mean, Sir,” I said, lying, knowing exactly what He was getting to but wanting to hear Him say it.
“Your responsibilities will be confined to one room. Would you like to see it?”
“You mean that I will not have to clean and dust this whole house but just one room of it?” I asked.
“That is precisely right. Is this acceptable to you?”
*****
By that time anything He said would have been acceptable to me. I was quickly falling under His spell. He was everything Brad was not, and more. He was mature, self-confident, commanding and assertive. I was willing to say, do, or be anything He asked me to.I followed Him down the hallway to His special room. My knees were wobbly, not just from the unaccustomed high-heeled shoes, but from the growing sense of sexual excitement that was building between us. I felt myself starting to get warm, and wet. I wondered what would happen if I got so excited that I started dripping on the carpet. Would He be flattered that I found Him so exciting, or would He be angry with me for dirtying His rug?
Up the stairs and down the hall, past the maid’s quarters to the very end of the corridor, I was getting more excited with every step. When we finally arrived at the door I was nearly trembling with anticipation.
“I hope you appreciate what an honor I am paying you by showing you this room after such a short acquaintance, Miss Cramer.”
“I do, Sir, I do.”
He slowly opened the door. I almost expected it to squeak on its hinges. Inside, the room was dim, a sharp contrast to the brightness of the rest of the house.
“Come in, Miss Cramer, don’t be bashful,” He said, gently.
I stepped in slowly, holding my breath, looking around.
“This is my special room, my pleasure room.” He walked over to a large, overstuffed armchair and sat in it. “In this room, all thoughts, all activities are directed to enjoyment. It is a kind of shrine to hedonism. Does this shock you?”
“No, Sir,” I said slowly. “I have never seen a room like this before, but it is your room, and it is not my place to make judgments about it.”
“Miss Cramer, you amaze me. I think we will develop a worthwhile relationship, in time. But first, why don’t you look around and see if you can find something that interests you?”
“Excuse me?”
“Just take your time and explore my little room here. This will be your domain, your responsibility to keep clean and orderly. I want you to feel at home and I want to see what pleases you.”
I stood in the middle of the room and turned in a circle, slowly, trying to take in everything at once. On every wall were pictures of women, beautiful naked women. Some of them were in the midst of sexual intercourse, others were doing things I could not quite decipher but all of them were unmistakably experiencing ecstasy. I wanted to feel what they were feeling.
At the same time I was aware of His eyes on me, watching me. I stood for a long time with my back to Him, letting Him see the bottom of my ass. I wondered if He was getting as excited as I was. It was impossible to tell, He gave me no indication at all.
Against one wall was a glass display case. I walked over to it, keeping my legs slightly apart so that He could have glimpses of my pussy. I had never intentionally exposed myself to anyone before. I found I liked it. In the case was an assortment of dildoes. They were arranged according to size, starting with one about the size of my little finger and ranging up to one with two heads that must have been over two feet long. In between were dildoes of every shape and description imaginable, from smooth plastic battery operated vibrators, to large black rubber artificial penises with straps and reservoirs so they could be filled with liquid and worn.
“May I open the case?” I asked.
“Of course you may. I want you to enjoy yourself.”
I selected one from the middle of the display. It was a realistic looking ten inch vibrator. The head and shaft were intricately formed to simulate folds of skin and veins. I was getting increasingly excited just holding it.
“A very good selection, Miss Jodie.”
I turned to face Him, holding the dildoe to my breast, as if it were a treasured object.
“In the lower drawer you’ll find a plastic sheet,” He said, “bring it here.”
I did so and stood in front of Him with the dildoe in one hand and the sheet in the other.
“Now, I want you to spread the sheet out on the floor in front of me.”
I did as He instructed. My thighs and breasts were beginning to tingle.
“Please, just sit down and enjoy yourself,” He smiled at me.
“Excuse me, but I want to be sure I understand you,” I said. “You’ve offered me a job as a maid, but what you really have in mind is for me to sexually exhibit myself to you.”
“That is what I’ve asked you to do now. I may have other instructions for you at other times.” The smile faded from His face and He looked at me sternly. “You claimed that you were able to follow orders. If you misrepresented yourself, then I may have to take steps to correct the problem.”
What would He do to “correct the problem” I wondered. Would it involve some discipline?
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” I said. “Sometimes I say things I don’t really mean.”
“You must learn to control yourself. Self-discipline is very important in life, especially for someone as young and beautiful as yourself.”
“I apologize, I’ll try to be good from now on.”
“That’s better, that’s the proper attitude for someone in your position.”
With no further discussion, I spread the plastic sheet on the floor in front of His chair. I sat down on it right in front of Him. I raised my knees and spread my legs, giving Him a clear view of my sex.
The plastic already began to stick to my skin, it felt hot and clammy, very confining and uncomfortable. I switched on the vibrator and placed it at the entrance to my vagina.
With two fingers of my left hand I spread my pussy lips apart while I teased my clitoris with the head of the dildoe. My cunt was already wet and shining, the dildoe made me hotter, drops of pussy juice ran out of my cunt and dripped down my ass, making my buttocks stick to the plastic sheet even more.
I looked up at Him. He was watching me intently but otherwise sat motionless in His chair. His eyes were fixed on my cunt and what I was doing to it.
I pushed the dildoe into my vagina, slowly, a centimeter at a time, watching Him for a reaction all the time. Waves of pleasure began to spread out from the vibrator, up my pussy, through my stomach, all the way to my head.
My breathing was getting ragged, I could feel my orgasm starting to build. I was hot and embarrassed at the same time.
“Don’t you want to… join me?” I asked. “I could enjoy myself more if this were you.” I pushed the dildoe all the way into my vagina, just the base of it could be seen protruding from my pussy lips.
“You haven’t earned it yet,” He said, smirking just a little.
I felt myself flush red, all the way from my face all the way down to my breasts. “Please, I can make you happy, and you’ll make me very happy. Please.”
I laid down on my back and spread my legs wide. I pushed the dildoe in and out of my vagina quickly, feeling my orgasm getting closer and closer.
“Please, please, I’m almost coming. I want you to come with me. Come in me, please,” I begged Him.
“You haven’t earned my pleasure yet, my dear,” He said. “But I will give you a sample.”
He stood up and unzipped His pants. I licked my lips in anticipation. He pulled out His prick and started stroking it. It was ten inches long, hard and luscious looking.
“Just lie there, my dear, enjoy yourself. I would like to watch you experience your orgasm while I have mine.”
He stood over me, His feet between my legs. He was watching His prick and my cunt at the same time.
“Please, come now,” I moaned, “I’m almost there. Come with me, please… Master.”
I surprised myself, I had never intended to call Him that, I hadn’t even thought of it. But when I did, when “Master” had left my lips, it felt good, and right, and natural. That’s what I had been looking for all my life, a master, someone to rule me, control me, be over me, as He was now.
I reached into my bodice and pulled out my breasts. I tweaked my nipples while I shoved the vibrator back and forth in my pussy.
He stroked His prick faster. I saw the head get redder and more swollen.
“That’s right, my dear, you’ve just passed your first test. I am your master, you are my willing servant. Your whole purpose in life is to serve me. Your only reason for living is to give me pleasure. Is that understood?”
“Oh, yes, Master, yes, Master. Please show me your pleasure. I’m coming now. Ah, ah, aaahhh, yes, NOW! PLEASE!”
He gritted His teeth and pumped His hips back and forth. Long, creamy gobs of come erupted from His prick and splattered all over me. Warm, gooey, spurts of His love juice landed in my hair, on my face and breasts. I opened my mouth and caught some of it on my tongue. It hit me like electricity, sending jolts of pleasure through me.
His come mixed with my come, some dripped on my cunt and made my orgasm last even longer.
“Oh, Master,” I moaned, “you have given me more pleasure than I deserve.” My hand was still massaging my tits while I held the dildoe up my cunt with the other. “Oh, Master, Master, Master.”
I rolled over and kneeled at His feet. I licked the drops of His come up off the plastic sheet, savoring every drop. I kissed the toes of His shoes. I embraced His ankles and kissed the cuffs of His pants.
“Master, I am yours.”
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