HER BRUTE MASTER Part 3

The next two days were spent in blissful submission to my master’s moods. He took both days off from working to spend time with me, training me in His ways. As near as I could gather by inference, for He never discussed it with me, my master was a writer or consultant. When He did work it was in His study, either at His typewriter or His tape recorder. I never heard what He said or saw what He wrote. I was only aware of the tools He had in His study.
For those two days though, He only went in His study to retrieve messages from His telephone answering machine and jot memos to Himself to answer them.
The rest of the time we spent together, from waking to sleeping, learning about each other. Yes, my master took great pains to learn all about me. He asked me about my family and upbringing, my hopes and dreams for the future, my tastes in music and art.
He also took great pains to learn where I was most sensitive on my body. He learned where exactly I like to be kissed and tickled. I let Him see how His teeth would make my nipples harder, faster than His tongue could. When He was kind enough to fuck my pussy, which He was, twice, He discovered immediately how I love having my clitoris sucked, like it was a little penis. Sometimes, when I’m very excited, and every time I’ve made love with my new master I’ve been very excited, my clitoris gets so hard that it sticks out of my slit like a little pearl. And when someone sucks on it, as master did so well, it will grow and stand up almost three-quarters of an inch, just enough to suck and lick.
I learned all I could about Him, too, of course. But He was quite reticent about Himself. I got the impression that He was a bit older than He looked. He had the body of a young man, the face of a mature man, and the patience and outlook of someone who has seen a lot of life. But He wouldn’t talk about Himself.
We discussed world affairs at some length. I got the feeling He had traveled to many of the places we discussed. He was an advocate of personal liberty, (as I would have guessed), and human rights.
“The freedom to choose and then to act on that choice is vital to the human spirit, essential to the evolution of our race,” He said.
I was such a young girl, He was so experienced, I was completely in awe of Him. I felt honored, like a temple priestess, called upon to service the God-king.
He instructed me in using my mouth and tongue to stimulate and prolong His orgasm. He taught me to tease Him almost to coming. I learned the tell-tale twitches and throbs that preceded even His pre-come ejaculate. I sensed when the energy was just starting to ascend through His spine, and I would stop.
I’d hold His throbbing cock gently in my mouth and let His orgasm subside. Then I’d kiss and lick His balls, feeling Him gasp and moan with pleasure. When He began to recover His composure I’d slip His cock in my mouth again and repeat the process.
One afternoon in the living room, while watching an X-rated video on the VCR, I kept teasing Him to the brink of orgasm and then holding back. I kept His cock erect for over two hours before up [missing text].
[missing text] into my cunt?
My God! Those sorts of people weren’t the sort that I associated with! I had been led to believe, all my life, that people like that were a lower order that one had nothing to do with! And I had always believed that, too!
The only other men I knew were junior executives and that sort of men, polite and clean cut social climbers who would have never ever done anything like pushing me into a bathroom and fucking me there! They would have found an experience like that as repugnant as I did!
They were men whose idea of a good time was to go to a sophisticated nightclub dressed in an expensive suit, me wearing an evening dress, and to dance conservatively with me, maybe have a few drinks.
After a few dates like that we might even go to their apartment and make love (you notice I didn’t say “fuck”) and… it would be nice but it would never be anything special that they gave to me in their bed.
Was what Hakim had done to me — what the biker had done to me, in fact — was that something special, or was I just going out of my mind? I mean, at that point I figured that that was a definite possibility!
The fingers of the warm water were starting to calm me, even relax me a little from the tension. “I’m going away on a business trip. I’ll be gone nearly a week.”
“Oh.” I didn’t know what else to say. I felt foolish.
“I hope you will take that time to rest and restore yourself, because when I return, you may find your duties quite demanding.”
“I will, Sir. Thank you for calming my foolish fears.”
“You will soon learn to relax yourself completely into my care, my dear.”
“I know it, Sir. Please be patient with me,” I kissed His hand.

*****

The next few days I spent between the dormitory and the gymnasium. Resting and exercising were my only activities, except when I was tired, then I drifted off to dream-filled sleep, dreaming of my master and how He would pleasure me when He returned from His trip.
Sunday afternoon was hot. The temperature climbed into the nineties and I decided to climb into the pool. There were two pools open on campus that day, one indoors and one out. I chose the indoor pool for privacy’s sake. There were about a hundred kids laughing and playing around the outdoor pool and even though most of them were older than me, in comparison with my master, they were mere children. I wanted no part of them. They were just playing, socializing. I needed to concentrate, I was preparing my body for service. I wanted to swim laps, to improve my muscle tone and increase my stamina. I wanted no distractions.
There were four other people at the indoor pool when I arrived, and three of them were leaving. I draped my towel over the railing and dove in.
The water was cool and brisk. My whole body tingled with the sudden chill. I quickly started a fast crawl stroke down the length of the pool and back. I wanted to raise my body temperature quickly to reach a comfort zone for my exercise.
After twenty laps I flipped over onto my back to catch my breath while I still kicked my way up and down the length of the pool. I felt good and strong. I felt young and healthy. I felt invincible.
A glance to my left showed me that that other person was still in the pool with me. She was swimming laps also, quietly and methodically plying the water even faster than I was and with less shortness of breath.
I flipped back over and did ten more laps at top speed, then I climbed up onto the side of the pool and caught my breath. My companion was still churning back and forth in her lane.
I got up to get my towel and she climbed out of the pool.
“You’re quite an athlete,” she said.
“What? Were you talking to me?” I asked.
“Yeah, I was watching you.” She picked up her own towel and rubbed her hair, it was very short and brown and with her green eyes it gave her a pixyish, elfin quality. “Not many people can swim laps the way you were. Did you ever think of trying out for the team?”
“Oh,” — of course, she was on the swimming team, that’s why she was such a strong swimmer — “no,” I said, “it never occurred to me.”
“Think about it. You’re good, you might make it.”
She was smiling at me in the most open, friendly way I could imagine. She had broad shoulders and narrow hips. With her short hair it made her look a little like a boy. I felt drawn to her. There was something about her, her strength and enthusiasm, that I found attractive.
“My name’s Mandy Carter.” She stuck out her hand.
“Hi.” I shook it. “I’m Jodie Cramer.”
“I know, I sat next to you at orientation last September.”
“Did you? I’m sorry, that was so long ago, I can’t remember.”
“That’s OK,” she turned to her locker. “You were talking to someone else.”
“Oh, yeah, Brad,” I said, remembering. “He was my boyfriend.”
“I thought so, I used to see you two around on campus together.”
It felt funny, meeting this person for the first time and finding out that she had been aware of me for months previously.
We went back to the locker room together to shower and change.
“Are you and Brad still going together?” she continued.
“Not exactly. He’s away for the summer and… I don’t know what’ll happen when he gets back.”
“Oh really?” She seemed to brighten a little.
“What about you,” I asked, “do you have a boyfriend?”
“I’m not seeing anyone right now, no.” She stepped out of her bathing suit and walked into the shower.
I watched her hips sway down the aisle between the lockers. They were firm, tight, and muscular. There was not a bit of excess fat on them. Her legs and torso were firm and well shaped also. I wondered what her skin would feel like against mine. I wondered why I was wondering that.
I peeled off my bathing suit and hung it in the locker. Suddenly embarrassed, I remembered that I had a shaved pussy. Only whores and nude models, who were no better than whores, shaved their cunts! What would Mandy think of me? I wrapped a towel around myself and went into the shower room. I took the stall next to Mandy because I wanted to continue our conversation, but I kept my back to her for fear she would see my pussy and think terrible things about me.
At the same time I wanted to hide myself from her, I was trying to catch glimpses of Mandy’s naked body. Like most swimmers she shaved all her body hair except that on her pubis. Her back and shoulders glistened under the shower. Her breasts looked as tight and firm as her buttocks. They looked like two halves of honeydew melon on her chest. She had tiny little pink nipples that were hard and stiff in the spray of water from the shower nozzle.
I tried to steal a look at her pubis but could only see a glimpse of darkness at the top of her strong, smooth thighs. She went back to the lockers to dress. In a few minutes I followed her, keeping my towel around me at all times until I was dressed.
“What are you doing tonight?” Mandy asked as we walked out into the afternoon sunlight.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe look over my French.”
“How boring! Want to go to a movie?”
“That might be fun.”
“Come on, we’ll walk into Westwood and find something fun to see.”
“OK.”
I was feeling a little light-headed being with Mandy. There was something about her that resonated deeply in my soul. While walking together her hand would occasionally brush against mine. It sent sparks up my arm and made me catch my breath.
I would glance over at Mandy and thought I could detect a slight flush on her cheeks. She wouldn’t look directly at me but would occasionally glance in my direction.
Once or twice our hips brushed together. Mandy didn’t pull away, she kept walking close to me. I could feel the warmth of her body and smell her skin under the scent of soap and chlorine.
I had never before had such feelings about a woman. I always thought such things were unnatural. But now, after my introduction to my master, after He awakened my power, and passion, now I was interested. I felt a familiar, warm, liquid sensation begin to build in my loins.
Freedom. Freedom! FREEDOM!
When I got back to my room at the dorm I decided to change my clothes again before going to meet Mandy. I wanted to look nice for her. When I got undressed I noticed that my pussy, which had caused me such anxiety and embarrassment, was starting to grow stubble. Scratchy little blonde whiskers stuck out of my pube.
I went into the bathroom and got out a fresh razor. I lathered my pussy with facial soap and gave myself another shave. “If I’m going to have a shaved pussy,” I said aloud, “I guess I’ll have to shave my pussy.” Chuckling at my own inanity, I put on some loose summer slacks, a white cotton blouse, and went downstairs.
Mandy was already there waiting for me when I arrived.
“You look nice,” she said as I approached.
“So are you,” I responded. She had changed also, into walking shorts and a tight fitting blouse. It was obvious that she wore no bra and that knowledge made me very excited. I could feel the sexual current building between us. What had looked like a casual suggestion had turned into a date. I got a whiff of Mandy’s perfume. It had a light, musky scent. I knew I would do something new that night, something I had never done before.

*****

We walked through the village chatting, sipping on Calistoga water, reading the movie marquees, and chatting about inanities with each other. What we said was less important than the fact that we were saying it.
Mandy would lean in close to listen to me when I spoke, and when she confided her thoughts to me she touched me lightly on the arm, and her warm breath brushed my ear.
We settled on a comedy and bought our tickets. The fact that the movie was starting right then probably had more to do with our decision than any other consideration, like subject matter.
After the first fifteen minutes we were both ready to leave the theater. It was a teen-age summer vacation comedy. Ail the jokes were about sex and acne and they weren’t funny.
We left the theater giggling at our own stupidity at throwing our money away on such a bad movie.
“What do you want to do now?” I asked once we were outside.
“I don’t know, what do you want to do?”
“No fair, I asked you first.”
“Why don’t you spend the night with a couple of wild and crazy guys?”
I turned to see who had spoken, out of the corner of my eye I could see Mandy’s face darken and her whole body tense up.
“Hello, ladies. Allow me to introduce myself and my eminent companion.” He bowed graciously. They looked like a couple of average college students, cute enough to see a movie with.
“This is Dr. Freud,” his friend bowed, “and I am Dr. Jung. You seem to be bereft of companionship, Dr. Freud and I would like to offer our services to fill any such need you may have.”
“Why thank you gentlemen,” Mandy’s tone belied the tension I saw in her face and body. “But we already have companionship and besides, I wouldn’t dream of coming between two such well matched people as yourselves.”
“I have to agree with my friend,” I said, “our trivial interests cannot interfere with your great work.” I laughed.
“But ladies, we can help to free your repressed libidos.”
Mandy spun an her heel and spoke directly to the taller one. She was a full head shorter than he but her voice and manner were more frightening than any of us would have expected.
“If you don’t stop bothering us you’re going to find your libido in a bed-pan. Get me, buster?” She turned and strode away from the pair, leaving them open-mouthed.
I followed quickly after her. “Mandy, you wildcat!” I feigned surprise. “Why did you have to frighten those poor little boys?”
“They… when I was… I… I’m sorry, Jodie, maybe we should go back to the dorm. I over-reacted I guess.”
“Mandy what’s wrong? What got you so upset back there?”
“It’s nothing, nothing. Let’s talk about something else.”
We walked in silence for a few minutes. Gradually, Mandy calmed down and we slowed our pace to more nearly normal.
“A long time ago,” she began speaking in a low monotone, I had to strain to hear some of what she said, “when I was just a little girl, really, some boys invited my sister and me to the movies.”
“They were a little older than us. One of them had just gotten his driver’s license, so I guess they were a lot older than I was at the time. But we all knew each other because it was kind of a small town and my sister was in high school with them and she thought the other one, the one who didn’t drive was kind of cute.”
“So, we all piled in the car and Billy, he was the one who was driving, he said he didn’t want to go to the movies anymore because I was too little and he’d be embarrassed to be seen in public with me.”
“Well, that hurt my feelings and June, my sister, got all mad at me for spoiling her date with Mark. So, I said let’s go to the drive-in and everybody agreed and so we did.”
Mandy was speaking quickly, her breath coming in short gasps. She was walking fast with her head down. Her story had a hypnotic effect on herself as well as me. The difference was that while I was getting sexually aroused by the obvious direction the story was going in, Mandy was becoming more and more upset. I liked the image she was building of a young virgin unwittingly getting herself into deeper waters than she had anticipated. Mandy was reliving the fear and terror of that night.
“You don’t have to talk about this if you’d rather not,” I said.
“What? Oh.” She shook herself out of her reverie, coming back to reality with a shudder. “Where are we?”
I looked around, we had almost left Westwood Village completely and reached the Veteran’s Administration Hospital.
“We’re practically in West L.A.. I guess we should go back.”
“I’m sorry, Jodie, I didn’t mean to spoil your evening.” She started to sob a little. “I should have left you alone.”
“Don’t be silly, Mandy.” I put my arm around her shoulders.
She leaned against me, accepting my comfort eagerly. Together we turned and walked back to Westwood, back toward the dormitory, our footsteps echoing hollowly on the pavement, oblivious to the stares from passing cars.
I regretted having stopped Mandy’s recital a little bit. It seemed that we were getting into an area of intimacy that we both wanted to explore but the landscape was too dangerous for us to continue.
“Look, Mandy, let’s not let ourselves get too depressed over this, whatever it is.” We were back in the heart of Westwood, now, and the party mood was slightly infectious.
“You’re right,” she said, shaking her head and wiping the last tear away from under her eye. “What would you like to do, Jodie?”
“What do you say we rent a video and go up to my room? I have a VCR and you can make some popcorn while I get the dirty clothes off the couch.”
“That sounds like fun, Jodie. You’re a good friend.”
“I hope so, Mandy, I hope so.”
We selected Frank Capra’s classic, “Sullivan’s Travels”. It’s a comedy about a movie director who goes looking for the truth about poverty so he can make a movie about it. He learns that the poor already know more than they care to know about poverty and the rich don’t care. He also learns that films don’t have much value beyond their entertainment value. And that sometimes the greatest service you can do for someone is to just entertain them, to help them forget their troubles, even if just for a little while.
Back in my dorm room Mandy made popcorn in my electric popper, (we can’t have stoves of hot-plates in the dorm), while I straightened up the room and put the tape in the VCR.
Then, with the popcorn in a big bowl on our laps and the lights turned down low we snuggled together on the couch to enjoy the film. Mandy had never seen it before, she had never even heard of Frank Capra, and loved every frame of it. I hadn’t seen it in over three years, myself, and laughed at every joke as if for the first time.
When it was over I turned off the television and returned to the couch and to Mandy’s arms.
“Did you like it?” I asked.
“Yes, very much. I had no idea such good movies were made back in the thirties. I thought they were all mysteries and musicals.”
“Are you feeling better?” I brought the subject back to her. I hoped she was strong enough to clear it so we could move on to the next step. I sensed that she wanted to. I knew I wanted to. I hoped she knew I wanted her. “It must have been very traumatic.”
“It was.” She started to retreat into herself again.
“Sometimes talking about it can help to heal an experience like that.”
She said nothing, she twisted her fingers together.
“Mandy, I want to be your friend, I want to help you. I thought you wanted to be friends with me, too.”
“I do… it’s just that… you don’t…” she stated crying again.
I didn’t say anything else. I put both my arms around her and rocked her gently back and forth. I hummed Brahm’s lullaby in her ear.
After a few minutes she sniffed back her tears.
“We went to the drive in movie,” she continued her story in the same quiet voice she had used before. But she was more present this time, less sing-song.
“Billy and I sat up front and Mark and June were in the back seat. The feature had barely started before I could hear Mark and June getting started on each other.”
“Getting started?” I asked.
“You know, kissing and making out. Mark was saying things like ‘Oh baby, baby,’ and June was saying, ‘Do you love me, honey?’ and dumb things like that.”
“Meanwhile, Billy had his hands all over me. I had never even French-kissed a boy before much less had one feel me up! I was scared. And Billy was real rough with me, too. That didn’t help me to feel good about what was happening.”
“I thought you said you liked Billy.”
“No, June liked Mark and I wanted to be out with her, so I had be with Billy, but I never liked him before. And then, I always hated him afterwards.”
I said nothing I let her find her own speed.
“He leaned over me and pushed me down on the seat, then he whispered in my ear that he knew I would have to make a show of resistance, so every time I said ‘No’ he’d know I meant yes.”
“‘No,’ I told him and he laughed and said ‘That’s right, baby,’ and he put his hand under my blouse and broke my bra.”
Mandy was sobbing in my arms, now. I just held her next to me, trying to comfort her.
“It was my first bra, and he broke it. I tried to push him off of me but he was too strong. June must have know what was happening but she didn’t do anything.”
“He raped me.” She was crying steadily now, a little stream of tears running down both cheeks. “He tore my clothes from my body and raped me. I tried to stop him, I tried…”
“What about your sister,” I asked, “didn’t she try to help?”
“I talked to her afterwards and she said she thought I was enjoying it. I hated her after that, too.”
“Those boys tonight, I guess they just reminded me of Billy and Mark was all. I’m sorry I spoiled it for you if you wanted to go with them.”
“I wanted to spend the evening with you, remember? You asked me first.”
“Thank you, Jodie. You are a good friend.” She kissed me lightly on the lips, eagerly, I kissed her back.

*****

When Mandy had finished crying I took her into my bedroom. I told her that I thought she needed some human companionship, some animal comfort, to help her through the night.
“I don’t have my nightgown with me,” she said.
“That’s all right, I won’t wear mine.”
Remembering my shaved pussy, I got undressed with my back to her and slipped under the sheets the same way. I leaned back against the pillows and watched Mandy finish her undressing before she crawled into bed with me.
“For someone as modest as you are, you certainly like to look at other people,” Mandy said.
“I like to look at beautiful things and beautiful people,” I answered. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, Mandy. You have a gorgeous body, no wonder those boys wanted to pick you up.”
“It was you they were after, and since when are you interested in women’s bodies. I thought you had a boyfriend.”
“No, I told you, he’s gone for the summer, and we probably won’t get back together in the fall, either.”
“So there’s no man in your life?”
I evaded the question. “There’s you in my bed, isn’t that more important?”
“Do you mean…” She was nervous, hesitant, I was going to have to be the aggressor. I was sure she was a lesbian. She came onto me in the shower hadn’t she. She had let her hand and hip brush up against mine while we walked together, wasn’t she using body language to tell me she was hot for me?
Or was I going crazy? Was I seducing an innocent young athlete who had had an early trauma and just needed someone to confide in? Or was this a case of two consenting almost-adults who were ripe for new experiences?
Before I could get too tangled up in my analysis of the situation, Mandy placed her hand on my breast. I sighed deeply and moved toward her. She dropped her head and took my nipple in her mouth.
“Oh, yes, Mandy. Is this what you want?” I reached over and took her firm young breast in my hand.
“You just lie still,” she said, “let me do it. I want to.”
I lay flat on my back and let her have her way. She kissed first one nipple then the other. She moved her in tight little circles over the aureoles and teased the nipple back and forth.
I put my hand on the back of her neck and pressed down gently, until I felt her teeth touch my tittie. Then I held her their and inhaled, letting my breath push my flesh against her teeth, savoring the sweet hardness of her.
She responded with vigor, sucking me harder and nibbling gently on my skin. She squeezed and kneaded my flesh while she sucked me. She kissed me higher up, trailing her tongue up my chest to my neck and then my ear.
“You’ve done this before,” she whispered in my ear.
“No, you’re the first,” I answered, truthfully.
“The first ever?”
“The first woman.”
“Well, what the heck, that’s almost as good,” she laughed, climbing on top of me. “Now you’re in for a treat.”
She kissed me full on the mouth. Her soft, warm lips covered mine with their sweet wetness. Her tongue, like an intelligent thing, slipped into my mouth and played with mine.
I wrapped my arms around her neck and let her do whatever she wanted.
She slipped her legs between mine and supported herself on her knees and elbows. She moved back and forth on top of me, her stiff little nipples brushed against mine. Her pubic hair scratched my freshly shaved pussy. I wondered if she could feel the difference.
Slowly, her lips left mine and drifted down my chin. Then she kissed my neck and my breasts again. I knew where she was heading. She kissed my abdomen and licked my navel on her way to my pleasure spot.
“Hello, hello, hello, what’s all this, then?” she said, laughing.
“What’s the matter, never seen a shaved pussy before?”
“Not on a sweet little semi-virgin like you, my dear.”
“Please don’t call me that.”
“What?”
“‘My dear.’”
“All right, what shall I call you?”
“Call me anything you want, Mandy, but don’t stop doing what you’re doing.”
“Yes, ma’am, darling,” she said, and plunged her head down under the sheet again.
She lost no time in finding my slit or licking it. Her tongue immediately explored the inner folds of my pussy lips and started my juices flowing.
The soft firmness of her body, the strange familiarity of her breasts on mine, the sweet, subtle forbiddenness of our love, made me hot and ready to come.
Mandy found my little friend, my clitoris, getting hard and ready to be sucked. She flicked her tongue back and forth over it a few times, just teasing me, watching it get hard and start to protrude from my slit, but not putting her lips on it to give me relief.
I put both hands on her head and guided her down, putting her mouth where it would do me the most good. She didn’t resist at all. She knew she was going to give me what I wanted, she just wanted me to ask for it, even if non-verbally.
“I’m almost there, Mandy,” I gasped. “Are you ready for me to come?”
For an answer, Mandy took the middle three fingers of her right hand and slipped them between my pussy lips. When she felt my clit grow stiffer in her mouth, and heard my breathing get faster and more ragged, when she knew I was on the brink of ecstasy, then she shoved those fingers as deep into my cunt as she could force them.
“AH! AH! AH!” I pulled a pillow over my face and bit it to stifle my screams.
Mandy sucked and pulled on my clit, hard, giving me great pleasure and pain. Her fingers stretched and pulled at my pussy, sending waves of warmth all the way up through me to the top of my head.
I raised my knees and spread my thighs, I tried to force Mandy’s hand and head all the way into me. I couldn’t imagine how I had gone through my life without ever before having the pleasure of a woman’s body on mine.
Mandy stayed between my legs, contentedly licking up my come juice before it could drip down onto the sheets.
Afterward, Mandy and I lay in each other’s arms. Mandy spoke first.
“I thought you were so modest and demure when we were in the locker room, the way you kept yourself covered up alt the time,” she said.
“I couldn’t let you see my pussy first thing like that, you’d have thought I was a tramp.”
“So you let me discover it first hand.”
“You asked me out.”
“You took me to bed!”
“I knew you were a wild bitch, when you made me bite your titty.”
“I’ll bite your titty!”
Our playfulness quickly degenerated to more kissing and licking of each other’s bodies. Mandy climbed on top of me again, but this time reversed over me, so I could suck her pussy while she are mine.
Her cunt was sweet and tight, just as I’d suspected it would be. We got very little sleep that night, mostly we just played with each other’s cunts, licking up our come juices again and again.
Mandy and I became very close over the next few days. She brought her overnight bag and tooth-brush and shared my bed every night.
We ate breakfast and jogged together each morning, swam laps in the afternoon, and held hands through supper each night. Mandy took an extra hour’s workout every day before lunch doing sprints in the pool.
I had been right about Mandy. She was a lesbian and she wasn’t ashamed of it.
“After Billy raped me I hated to be around men at all. Even my father, who was a wonderful man, made me fearful when he got too close to me.”
“At the same time I realized that it was my sister, June, who had attracted me to the double date. It was she I wanted to be with. I was disillusioned about her afterwards, she didn’t really care about me, but I realized that I liked girls better than boys. I was in the eighth grade at the time, I’ve known that I’m homosexual for a long time.”
“Has it been lonely for you?”
“It was at first, very lonely, and scary. There was no one I could talk to about my feelings, no one to ask questions, no one to touch or kiss. I cried myself to sleep on many of those nights.”
“Later, when I was in high school, I noticed some of the girls in gym class would try to sneak looks at the other girls in the shower. One of them was a senior, Debbie Horowitz. She was the star of the girl’s swimming team. She’s why I got interested in the sport.”
“It was hard to find a girl to be friends with back then. Girls who were lesbians were social outcasts. They were never invited to parties or dances. People wrote dirty words on their gym lockers. In that school, in that town, a girl had to appear ‘normal’ even if she wasn’t.”
“Debbie was different. She was just like a big sister to me. She said ‘Hi,’ and made me feel welcome from the first minute she saw me. Later I found out it was because she wanted to make love to me, but I didn’t know that then.”
“It was Debbie who brought me out. I’ll always remember her. She was the one who I gave my virginity to, not that bastard Billy.”

*****

It was fun getting to know Mandy like that, learning bits and pieces of her past, a little at a time. She revealed herself to me the same way a rosebud blooms, the outer petals open slowly at first, only revealing the backs of other petals, just like themselves, only further in. Greater depth revealed greater sameness, until, after much patience, the inner bloom, the perfect beauty, fragrance, and selflessness is suddenly revealed.
Mandy took my virginity, in more ways than one. She wasn’t just the first woman ever to make love to me, she was the first person in my life who knew how to give me pure, unadulterated pleasure. I was able to completely open myself up to her, and she responded by giving me her all, without reservation. It was a new experience for me. I had never before been “close” with someone the way I was with Mandy. We were friends and equals.
The days blended together into a hazy stream of exercise and love. One morning at the pool we found ourselves alone. It was an overcast, foggy, dank Southern California summer morning.
We were at the pool at seven AM wearing sweat-suits to guard against the chill. The custodian let us in and went on to perform his duties at the main gym. We quickly peeled out of our sweat suits and dove in.
The water was COLD. We pumped our arms and legs and tore off ten fast laps without stopping. Then, warm and steady, we swam next to each other for awhile. It was a kind of naive balletic mating dance we performed in the water that morning. We swam the side-stroke, facing each other, just inches apart.
I was on my left side, Mandy on her right. In stroking down with my right hand, I let it brush down Mandy’s breast and torso. Mandy giggled, spitting water at me, and returned the favor. She squeezed my breasts and scratched my pussy with each stroke. I tweaked her nippies as best I could. I started getting warm. I wanted to finish what we were starting.
“Wait here, sweetheart,” I said and climbed out of the pool.
I ran through the locker room to the front door. There was no one else in the building. I locked the front door, feeling a thrill of naughtiness shoot through me. I felt like a little girl again.
Back at the pool, I stood on the edge and did a slow strip-tease, giving Mandy my best bumps and grinds. She cheered and whistled, applauded and shouted obscene suggestions to me.
While I was finishing my act, Mandy peeled out of her bathing suit. She splashed me with it as I dove in over her head. She ducked under and caught me by the ankles. We twisted and writhed together in a mock wrestling match.
We gasped for air on the surface and ducked under again. We kissed underwater, tasting chlorine in our mouths. Our bodies squished and slid together, like slippery water balloons. Mandy slid down and put her mouth on my pussy. Her tongue was so warm against the cold of the water I had to pull myself to the surface to keep from gasping water into my lungs.
Mandy grabbed a breath of air and went back to my cunt. I did a slow backstroke and got us over to the side of the pool while Mandy continued licking me furiously. I couldn’t do it. If I let myself come in the water I’d drown.
I pulled Mandy’s head up to mine and kissed her on the lips. I could taste a little of my cunt on her mouth.
“Come on,” I said. I pulled her out of the water after me.
She went limp and let me drape her over me. She covered me with her wet, slippery body and kissed me with her wet, slippery tongue. Our sweat mixed.
I remember it was Tuesday morning, the few days we had together seemed like a short lifetime. I was sleeping, dreaming I was at the seashore. I walked into the ocean and it was warm. The water lapped at my legs and sent waves of peaceful warmth through my body. I walked further into the water, savoring the feeling of peace, wanting to completely lose myself in it.
The water reached my vagina and I relaxed down into it. I laid back and let the water close over me, completely enveloping me. The weight of the ocean pressed on my chest. To my surprise I could still breathe.
At that point I started to wake up. I slowly came to the realization that I was in my bed and not in the ocean. The weight I felt was Mandy’s body, draped over mine. Her face was between my legs, her mouth and tongue were the instruments of my feelings of oceanic bliss.
Her knees were on either side of my head, her pussy was right in my face. I leaned forward and gave it a little lick.
Mandy grunted happily and wiggled her ass, encouraging me to continue. Meanwhile she began licking my clit with renewed energy, making me move my hips and groan with pleasure.
She was so sweet, so considerate, the gentlest of all possible lovers, I felt my heart going out to her. I licked her sweet little cunt with the same tenderness I would give to her mouth.
She licked and sucked all around my cunt, licking my whole pubic area, making my pussy lips all red and swollen with desire. She reveled in the kinky smoothness of my clean-shaven state. I think she liked to fantasize that I was a very young girl she was seducing, someone who hadn’t even had her first period.
It didn’t take her long before she had me coming in her mouth. I lifted my legs in the air to give her better access to my love box and she thanked me by sticking her tongue as deep into my pussy as it could go. My orgasm rose to meet her and she licked my come juice out of my snatch, hungrily, avidly, as if she could never get enough.
I understood, then, the pleasure I was able to give to my master. I could experience the sweet pleasure of someone else’s slavish devotion to me. Mandy derived her satisfaction from giving me orgasms. I was more than happy to give her what she wanted, since it involved only my enjoying myself, and being serviced by a loved one.
When she came, and she always came at least once whenever we made love, whether or not I even touched her, her pussy juice was thick and creamy, like whipping cream. After the first time I tasted it, I always wanted to lick it up, the taste of it somehow reminded me of my first orgasms as a little girl.
So Mandy and I were hard on our way to building a lesbian heaven for ourselves to live in, but I knew it would soon have to end. My master would be home any time, now, and I hadn’t told Mandy anything about Him. I was afraid she wouldn’t understand, that she’d be jealous, that she’d cry.
I was right. She did all those things.
We were lying in each other’s arms, enjoying the after-glow of our mutual orgasms, the taste of each other still in our mouths, when the phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Good morning, my dear.” I recognized His voice immediately.
“Good morning.” I felt my voice and my heart melt into the phone. He was back and wanted me! Mandy stiffened at my side, sensing the threat to her relationship with me.
“Have you enjoyed your time off?”
“Yes, Sir, I have very much.” Mandy pulled a little away from me when she heard me say “Sir”.
“I’m glad. Please report for work at three o’clock.”
“Yes, Sir, I’ll be there.”
He hung up.
Mandy climbed out of bed and started getting dressed.
“What’s the matter?” I asked her.
“Nothing’s the matter. I have to work out, that’s all.” She wouldn’t look at me.
“Mandy, you’re running away from me the same way you ran away from those boys that first night we were together.”
She turned to me accusingly, angry and hurt. “I can tell what’s going on. Don’t lie to me. That was a man wasn’t it? I could tell by your voice. You can’t fool me.”
“Mandy, please, don’t go.” I wanted her to stay but I couldn’t deny what she said. I hated to hurt her, but what could I say?
“‘Mandy, don’t go,’” she taunted me. “You just want me to stay so you can laugh at me. I can see you, you and your boyfriend, making fun of the poor little lesbian.”
She headed for the door. I had to chase her out into the hallway while I was still naked and drag her back into my room.
“Mandy, please,” I said after I had gotten her inside, “that was a man, you were right. But he’s not my ‘boyfriend’. He’s my employer. I work for Him part-time, at His house. Sometimes I have to stay over, but that’s all. It’s just a business relationship.”
She wasn’t convinced. She sensed the truth of my devotion to Him, even though I denied it.
“He’s a wonderful man to work for and I admire Him a lot. That’s all.” I continued the deception hoping to keep her from guessing the truth. Not wanting her to feel hurt or rejected, especially not by me.
I wasn’t able to completely soothe her fears, though, probably because I hated to lie to someone who so obviously loved me. But she did give me a brave little smile when she kissed me good-bye. I sincerely hoped there were some way we could continue to be happy together while I maintained my relationship with my master.
Because, even though Mandy was able to give me pleasure like I had never before experienced, I didn’t feel the deep, bone-melting satisfaction that I felt with my master. I was immediately reminded of that the instant I heard His voice on the phone. I melted with desire for Him and Mandy knew it.

*****

At three o’clock exactly I rang the bell at the front door of His house. The door buzzed open and I entered. I shut the door behind me and waited in the entry-way, with my suitcase in my hand.
I had brought a few more things with me this time, mostly books and pens. I wanted to be able to occupy my time if my master did not have other duties for me.
I hadn’t waited more than a few minutes before He came down the stairs, smiling, with His arms outstretched.
“Jodie, my dear. It’s good to see you again.” He kissed me on both cheeks.
“It’s wonderful to see you, Sir.”
“You look healthy, you’ve gotten some color in your cheeks. Are you ready to get back to work?”
“Yes, Sir,” I answered, brightly.
“Good. Change into your uniform and wait for me in the pleasure room. I’ll join you in a few minutes.”
“Yes, Master.” I hurried up the stairs to carry out His wishes.
I ran into the maid’s quarters and pulled off all my clothes. I can’t describe the feelings that ran through me, they were so paradoxical and seemingly contradictory. I stood clothed in my nakedness. I was less indecent in my skin than I was in quasi-French maid’s uniform. But, indecent as it was, I felt comfortable in it. The tighter the waist, the more awkward the heels, the more natural I felt wearing them.
I dressed as quickly as I could. I inspected the finished product before leaving the room. I added a fresh layer of blood red lipstick to my lips. It made me look even cheaper and more tawdry. I pranced in front of the mirror swinging my hips as I walked. I could pass for a whore in a brothel. I liked the effect, it made my pussy moist.
I walked down the hall to the pleasure room. I went in as instructed to wait. I was so excited, so eager to get back to work pleasing my master that I could hardly stand still.
I debated with myself what was the best way to greet Him when He arrived. Should I wait for Him at my “Parade Rest” stance that had started to become standard? Or perhaps I should wait with my back to the door, so that when He came in the first thing I would greet Him with would be my ass.
The high heels I wore made me lean forward a little bit and pushed my buttocks out provocatively in the back. I knew he’d like to be reminded of the pleasures of my ass, but the possibility of His misinterpreting the gesture made me finally decide against it. I certainly didn’t want Him to think I was mooning Him.
Finally, I knelt on the floor just inside the door. That way, when my master entered, I would be ready to give Him head if He wanted it. I licked my lips and waited. Minutes passed. My knees began to ache. I hoped my master would be pleased with my position.
I shifted my weight back and forth, from one knee to the other. The carpet and padding eased, but could not eliminate, the hardness of the floor under my knees. I bit my lower lip and grimaced in pain. I wanted to get up and rub some circulation back into my lower legs but I wouldn’t allow myself.
The pain was sending shocks of electricity through my privates. My pussy tingled and itched. I could feel my clit starting to get a little hard. I squeezed my cunt muscles involuntarily. I was close to coming without even touching myself.
As though in answer to a prayer, the door opened and He came in. He took one step forward and stood with His pants less than an inch from my nose.
“Hello again, my dear. You look lovely in your uniform.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“Your show of initiative in this way, by assuming your proper, subservient position, ready to service me, is good, Jodie.” He patted my head and scratched me behind the ear, like a pet dog.
“Thank you, Sir.” My heart was pounding, my pulse raced. I had pleased my master. He would reward me. I licked His hand, purring deep in my throat.
“Be careful not to soil my trousers with your lipstick, my dear. I wouldn’t want to have to punish you.”
With a gasp I realized that His prick was getting hard inside His pants, straining toward my mouth. He kept His hand on my head, holding it in place, not letting me pull away.
“Master, may I use my hands?”
“Yes, my dear.”
I reached up and unbuckled His belt. My fingers trembled as I unbuttoned His pants and pulled down His zipper. His cock was hard and getting harder — it strained toward me inside His white jockey shorts. I smelled the musky aroma and licked my lips. In a moment I had both His pants and shorts down around His ankles.
“Master, may I…”
“Go ahead, Jodie, I like watching you enjoy yourself.”
I gripped His shaft in my right hand and cupped His balls in my left. I pulled the skin slowly up and down His cock while I rubbed His balls, playing with them, rolling them in my fingers.
I stuck out my tongue and licked my lips. I gripped His shaft hard and stroked it slowly. I squeezed His balls, wanting to almost hurt Him. I wanted to give Him, my beloved master, a taste of the exquisite thrill that just the right amount of pain can give.
He must have felt it, for a thick, pearly drop of pre-come juice had formed at the head of His cock. I licked it off with the tip of my tongue. It was salty and sour, it made me warm inside. I wanted more.
I slipped my mouth over His cock and closed my lips just below its head. I rolled my tongue around it. I tried to stick my tongue into the little slit and lick out His come. He took a handful of my hair and pulled my head back, away from His wonderful, sweet dick.
“Wait, my dear.” Slowly and firmly He tugged on my hair, pulling me to my feet. I resisted as much as I could, savoring the sharp, stinging pain in my scalp. “First, I think I’d like to see you get undressed.”
He shoved me toward the center of the room and shut the door behind Him. I lowered my head slightly and gave Him my sexiest pout. I undid the bow on my apron and felt it shimmer to my feet, while He, my adored one, also slipped out of His clothes.
He was naked by the time I was lowering the zipper on my dress. I stepped out of it slowly, undulating my hips and cupping my breasts.
He led me to the massage table. He opened it up so that it resembled a large letter “X” and sat me down on the crux of it. He pushed me down on my back and stood between my legs.
“Did you miss while I was away?” He asked, smiling at me.
“Of course I did, Master.” I felt very self-conscious lying under His gaze like that. I was still wearing my collar and cuffs in addition to my stockings and heels. I looked like a whore in a French brothel. A feeling of abasement, of degradation, tingled through me. My sense of shame stung me like a whip. My pussy was already moist, now it became wet before His eyes.
“Show me how you comforted yourself in my absence.”
I knew immediately what He wanted. I put my feet up on the table and let my head fall back. I reached both my hands down to my pussy. My upper arms pressed my titties together while I used my long, red fingernails to scratch and pull at my pussy lips, sending drops of juice out of my slit and down the crack of my ass.
“I would dream of you, Master,” I said, “and I would touch myself, like this.” I exposed my clitoris and gave it a few brisk rubs, making it a little stiffer and taller. “I would pretend it was your lovely cock touching me, instead of my miserable little fingers.”
“You mean like this?” And, fitting His action to His words, He pressed His velvety hard prick against my pussy lips.
“Oh yes, Master,” I gasped. “It feels even better than I imagined.” I put a finger on each side of my clitoris and rubbed hard, making it stand up out of my slit.
“Go ahead, get yourself off,” He said, “let me feel you come.” Obligingly, He pushed the head of His cock into my cunt.
I pulled my cunt lips apart with my left hand while I continued frigging my clit with my right. Thick, gooey drops of pussy juice squirted out of my slit and dripped down the crack of my ass.
My master kept pushing His cock deeper and deeper into my cunt. Waves of pleasure grew and throbbed in the depths of my cunt. His hardness thrilled and excited me.
“Are you coming yet?” His voice was tense, His body jerked spasmodically. “Come now, I’m almost there.”
“Oooo, God, no,” I gasped, “I’m not ready yet. Please wait for me.”
“Come now, bitch!” He snarled. Suddenly, He pulled His cock out of my pussy and grabbed my knees with both His hands. He pushed my knees up to my chest, exposing my ass to the air. Ferociously, He rammed His cock into my ass.
“Argh, God, you’re hurting me!” I screamed. His penis tore into my rectum, stretching and tearing the tender pink flesh. The little bit of pussy juice that had dripped onto my asshole lubricated Him a little bit, allowing Him entry into my bowels. It wasn’t enough to give Him a smooth ride, however but He thrust mercilessly in and out, ignoring my cries of pain.
“Is this hurting you, my dear?” He asked, without stopping His fucking.
“Oh, aahhrrgg, yes, Master.” Tears welled up in my eyes.
“What do you say, then, bitch?”
“Thank you, Master, thank you.” I thrashed my head from side to side. “Hurt me more. Hurt me good, beloved Master.”
He pressed my knees against my breasts. I could hardly breathe. I frigged my clit furiously. My orgasm grew and grew, bubbling hot and urgent in my loins.
“Please,” I gasped, “I’m with you now! Give me your come, my dearest. Let me feel your pleasure inside me.”
He jammed His cock deep into my ass. It throbbed and pulsed. I felt the warm, soothing come spurt and fill my rectum as I let go with my own shuddering, gasping climax.
“Fuck me, ream me, hurt me, Master.” I was nearly delirious with pleasure. “I shall be yours forever.”
He didn’t stop there. He had me frig myself to orgasm again and again while He watched. Three more times, when I had succeeded in exciting Him, He gave me the pleasure of His cock in my ass. I began to want it there more than in my pussy.