My name is Heather Elaine Maxwell, and for most of my life, I have been a princess. I am from a very wealthy family who has never said no to anything I've requested. I have been granted every whim and wish just as if I had my very own magic genie in a bottle. I have attended the finest schools, and all my friends have been similarly wealthy, privileged princes and princesses.
I am beautiful, and have surrounded myself only with other beautiful people. I have lived in a mansion, and have had paid servants attend to my every need. I became angry and petulant if anyone ever dared to suggest that something I demanded wasn't truly a necessity.
Despite all that, I wasn't truly happy. I didn't know how unhappy and unfulfilled I was until I met Aaron D'Alero on my twenty-first birthday, almost exactly one year ago. He helped completely change my perspective about my life, my attitude, everything.
Now I am no longer a princess. I am now a perfectly content sex slave. This is a story about my transformation from a well-to-do brat into a plaything, desiring only to please and satisfy my lover, my Master.
* * * * *
I awoke on the morning of my twenty-first birthday to a soft rapping on the door to my room. I grumbled and pulled the bed covers up over my head. I wasn't ready to get up yet.
I heard the telltale squeak that told me the door to my room was opening. "Heather, dear?" came my mother's sing-song voice. "Darling, it's time to get up. We have so many things to do before the party this evening."
I pushed the covers down with a sigh and regarded my mother sullenly. She looked her part as queen of the castle, perfect as usual. Mother was a well-preserved forty eight years old, a product of the finest care that money could buy. Not to mention that she was a walking advertisement for the most skilled plastic surgeons in the city of Chicago.
Even at this early hour, Mother was smartly dressed in a mint green linen suit, her short chestnut hair was meticulously styled, and her makeup was expertly applied. Not a wrinkle to be seen on her clothing, not a single hair out of place.
I yawned and said, "Mother, why on earth do I need to be up this early? The party doesn't start until seven this evening, and it doesn't take me THAT long to get ready."
Mother smiled patiently. "Well dear, I thought it would be nice if you could join the family for breakfast for a change. At eleven your gown is being delivered and you'll need to try it on, just in case any last minute alterations are needed. And at one o'clock, the decorators and caterers will arrive, and I'll need your help directing them as to how to set things up. At four we have the appointment to get your hair done. Now please get up, darling."
My first thought was to protest, but thoughts of the night's grand party sent a shiver of anticipation through me, effectively casting off any desire for further sleep. "Oh, all right, Mother. I'll be down shortly."
My mother left the room, quietly shutting the door behind her. I climbed out of bed, stretching like a cat as soon as I hit the floor.
I went to my private bathroom that adjoined my bedroom, and standing before the huge wall of mirrors over the sink, I pulled off the silky pink T-shirt and pink satin panties that I had slept in. As I waited for the shower to adjust to the perfect temperature, I stood before the mirrors, appraising myself.
I knew I had an excellent body. I was five seven, and weighed in at just under one hundred twenty pounds. My breasts were full and round, and my nipples were large and pink, the exact color of my favorite flower, pink carnations. My waist was slender, my butt was nicely rounded, but thankfully not large enough to give me the dreaded bubble-butt appearance. My legs were long and well toned. My hair was very long and naturally blonde, and my eyes were clear blue.
I ran my hands down my body as I studied myself. My fingers were long and graceful, and my manicured nails felt good as I gently scraped them along my naked skin. I stopped at my breasts and tweaked my nipples to full attention. I sighed with pleasure at the sensation, and admired the form of my erect nipples in the mirror.
My hands traveled over the flat plane of my stomach, and without thinking, I let one hand continue lower, through my blonde pubic patch. It was groomed into a perfect V of soft, downy hair. From the bottom of the V clear down to my anus, I was shaved completely smooth.
Someone had told me two years ago that David Kershaw liked it that way, and I had shaved that way ever since. At first I had done it in hopes that he would admire it personally, but I had continued to remove my hair down there because I just plain loved the way it felt. So smooth and silky.
Thoughts of David Kershaw urged my hand lower, until my fingers gently trailed over my sensitive labia. I could picture David's perfect face with his sensitive blue eyes, and his muscular, toned body. My fingers found my clit and lazily rubbed circles over it, hardening it instantly.
David. I had had a crush on him for years. But he had been inevitably tied to Marie Walsh since they were children, and they had gotten engaged the previous year. They were to be married in June, a little over two months from the day of my party. Theirs was the closest thing to an arranged marriage that was ever seen in this country. David's father worked for Marie's father, and the Kershaw family's livelihood and continued prosperity depended on a continued strong bond between the families.
It never occurred to me that David and Marie actually loved each other. In my mind, the only possible explanation for David choosing Marie over me was because his parents had forced him into it.
Tonight however, David would be attending my party, and Marie would not be with him. She was in New York visiting her sister who had just given birth to a baby girl. Tonight was my chance. David would see how beautiful I was and how much I wanted him, and tomorrow Marie would be a distant memory. Simple.
As my thoughts had wandered, I suddenly realized that I had rubbed my clit so much that now my fingers were slippery wet. I smiled. David's hands would be the next to feel my pussy get so wet, I was sure of it.
The sights of the steam rising from the shower prodded me out of my reverie, and reluctantly I pulled my hand away from my self pleasure. Time to get moving.
After scrubbing myself and shaving my legs and around my labia, I washed and conditioned my silky hair. I climbed out of the shower and quickly towel dried my body, and blow dried my waist-length blonde hair. I clipped it back away from my face, not bothering with curling it since I was having it styled for the party later in the day.
I put on a few quick touches of makeup, and back in my bedroom I dressed for the day in a pair of tan corduroys and a lightweight cranberry colored sweater. I felt energized. Thoughts of the coming evening and the possibilities it held, especially in relation to David, made me giddy with expectation.
I joined my family in the huge dining room for breakfast. The four of us, including Mother and Father and my younger brother, Gerald, sat around the vast mahogany table. I always thought it was silly for such a small group to sit around a table that was large enough to easily accommodate twenty people. We all clustered at one end so we wouldn't have to shout at each other to be heard.
My father was a perfect compliment to my mother, even though he was dressed more casually than usual in a pair of gray dockers and a cream colored turtleneck sweater. At fifty, he was still quite a handsome man. I loved his steel gray hair and his expressive hazel eyes. My brother Gerald was comfortably dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a Chicago Bulls sweatshirt.
Gerald was as excited as I was. Tonight's party was a double celebration. Today I was twenty-one, and in less than a week, Gerald would have his eighteenth birthday. It was to be a formal affair, black tie, with over sixty special guests. There was to be a cocktail hour with drinks and hor's dourves, accompanied by a string quartet. That was mainly to satisfy the older crowd. At 9:00, the quartet would be history and they would be replaced by a rock band that Gerald and I had chosen.
There would be dancing. Even though I'd had alcohol several times before, it was the first night I was legally able to have liquor. I couldn't wait.
We enjoyed a heavy breakfast, since there would be little time for food during the day's preparations. I savored my Eggs Benedict with an absolutely heavenly hollandaise sauce, plus a dish of fresh strawberries, my favorite.
My family spoke little during the meal, as usual. Most of the conversation was between my brother and I. Instead of being jealous when my little brother was born, I had always adored him. Gerald was very handsome, a younger carbon copy of my father. He had dark hair, nearly black, with the exact same hazel eyes as my father. His formative years of playing sports of all kinds had left him with a lean, lithe figure.
All of the young women in our social circle vied for his attention, and now that he was soon to be eighteen and about to inherit a huge trust fund, their efforts would only increase. I was interested to see which girl he would eventually choose, even though for the time being he seemed content to sample them all.
Later than morning my gown for the evening arrived. It was custom made for me, and when I tried it on I was exceptionally pleased. It was a flowing pink silk, off-the-shoulder gown, with a deeply cut neckline and a fitted waist. It showed off my figure perfectly. David Kershaw didn't stand a chance.
The day flew by in an endless flurry of details. Mother and I ordered the caterers and decorators about as preparations were made in what we called "The Great Hall." It was a gargantuan room half the size of a football field, with a black and white marble checkered tile floor. The walls were adorned with polished cherry wood wainscoting, and expensive paintings by many well known (translated-VERY expensive) artists. I especially loved the two large, sparkling crystal chandeliers.
Tables were set up and covered with white linen tablecloths, ready for the variety of hor's dourves to be set out. Huge floral arrangements were set up throughout the room, many featuring my beloved pink carnations. Part of the room was left empty as a dance floor, and rented leather furniture was placed throughout the remainder as informal conversation areas. A huge banner was hung as one end of the room proclaiming, "Happy Birthday Heather and Gerald."
My excitement mounted as the day progressed. I could scarcely sit still when my hairdresser arrived to style my hair. She styled my long blonde hair up off my shoulders, weaving tiny pink silk flowers and white strands of faux pearls throughout. The long ends of my hair were curled into hanging ringlets. It turned out wonderfully.
Finally it was time to get ready for the party. I slipped into my sensuous silk gown, loving the way the material clung to my body and caressed my skin. Underneath the gown I wore an ivory colored strapless bra and matching panties, and a pair of thigh high stockings. On my feet were four inch pumps, died to match the exact same shade of pink as my dress.
I viewed myself in my dressing mirror. Damn, I really did look hot. The gown hugged my curves, and the neckline showed just enough cleavage to be intriguing. I couldn't wait for David to get a look at me like this. I had excited butterflies is my stomach at the thought of what he might say to me.
I went downstairs, and there was Gerald is his black tuxedo. He looked awesome, and I told him so. "You look great too, sis. Ready to party?"
"You bet! I'm sooo ready to get this show on the road. Come on, let's go check out the Great Hall."
The Hall was perfect. A few minutes before seven o'clock, the string quartet began playing, filling the room with classical music. Mother and Father were impeccably dressed, she in a pale blue gown and he in a tux similar to Gerald's. We were quite the family portrait.
Promptly at seven the guests began arriving. The four of us took turns greeting them as they arrived and directing them into the Hall, where hired wait-staff carried trays loaded with flutes of champagne and an astouding variety of finger food.
When I saw David arrive, I was breathtaken by how wonderful he looked. He also wore a black tux, a crisp white shirt, and a black bowtie. I wanted him so badly. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself, and I rushed over to greet him.
"Well hello, David. I'm so glad you could make it to our party," I said, smiling brightly at him.
"Hello, Heather," he said and gave me a chaste kiss on the cheek. "Happy birthday!"
"Thank you! Promise me you'll save a special dance for me?"
"Um, of course. Excuse me while I go say hello to your parents."
With that, he was gone. I was crestfallen. He hardly seemed to have noticed me at all! He was polite, nothing more. I vowed not to give up so easily. The evening was just beginning, and I had the whole night to charm him. He was just being proper and saying hello to all his hosts...that must be it.
I went into the Hall and began mingling with our guests. My spirits were lifted as everyone told me how beautiful I looked. I had two glasses of champagne and felt slightly giddy.
I kept trying to work my way over to the group that David was with, but somehow, I kept getting intercepted by other guests who were paying their respects. Finally, I had a clear path to David, and I moved purposefully toward him.
Just as I was about to reach him, someone lightly tapped on my shoulder. I turned, and was face- to-face with an incredibly handsome man whom I'd never seen before. He was tall, in his mid-thirties, with dark hair and amazing brown eyes. His eyes held mine for a moment, then he bowed slightly at the waist.
My breath caught momentarily in my throat and I found myself smiling at him. This was one fine looking man. David was temporarily forgotten.
"Miss Maxwell, my name is Aaron D'Alero. I just wanted to wish you a very happy birthday and thank you for the kind invitation to your party." His voice was deep and captivating.
I hadn't personally invited him, but it wasn't surprising that I didn't know him. My parents were always inviting business acquaintances to these kinds of parties.
I took the hand he offered and said, "Why thank you, Mr. D'Alero. The pleasure is mine." I couldn't seem to tear my eyes away from his. His gaze was hypnotic.
"Your home looks magnificent, a fitting tribute to such a beautiful guest of honor. Would you honor me with a dance?" He tipped his head toward the dance floor where several couples were swaying to the music of the string quartet.
His voice resounded in my head when he spoke, and I swore I could feel it as well as I could hear it. The quartet was playing a slow romantic song, and I knew that I should turn down his offer for such an intimate dance, especially given that he was a total stranger. But I didn't. "I would be delighted," I said, and I meant it.
He gently took my hand and led me to the dance floor, where he turned and faced me. I stepped toward him, and he put one hand on the small of my back and took my hand with the other. I put one hand on his shoulder and lightly grasped his hand with the other, and we began moving to the music.
I looked up at his face, his strong, confident features. In fact, everything about him exuded confidence. He certainly possessed a commanding presence. I was instantly attracted to him.
I found my voice and asked, "Mr. D'Alero, I've never seen you before. I certainly would have remembered if I had. Are you new in Chicago?"
"I've spent a great deal of time in Chicago, but I've only recently moved my practice here from New York. My sister and brother-in-law live here. I moved here to be near them, and my niece and two nephews. They're the only close family I have."
"Your practice? Are you a doctor, or a lawyer?" I said with a smile.
"Lawyer. Corporate law. But please, don't hold that against me!" He smiled back, and I could feel my stomach tying itself into pleasurable knots. He had a most distracting effect on me. I was enjoying it.
We talked and danced, and I realized that we moved closer and closer together the longer we spent. After a while, we quit talking and just moved together. Suddenly we were pressed close to each other, and I was keenly aware of my pelvis next to his. I felt hot everywhere we were touching.
He was meeting my eyes with such intensity, that I had to put my head on his shoulder and close my eyes to clear my head. I was vaguely aware of the party going on around me. I was totally lost in the sensation of being close to this man.
I was brought back to my senses when he spoke again. "Miss Maxwell, I seem to be monopolizing your time. Surely you must want to get back to your other guests." He momentarily glanced in the direction of David Kershaw, as if he knew that my sights had been set on getting his attention.
I didn't want to quit dancing with Aaron, but propriety told me that he was right. "Mr. D'Alero, please call me Heather. And I do hope that we can dance again later." I was surprised at the suggestive tone of my voice. I was actually flirting with him! Totally out of character for me. Usually I'd wait until the man came to me. David had been the only man I'd ever pursued.
"And you may call me Aaron." Somehow it seemed that he was giving me more than permission to address him less formally. "I intend to be here for awhile longer. I'll see you again before I leave," he promised.
We parted, and I felt an instant sense of disappointment. I was amazed when I looked at the clock and realized that an entire hour had passed! For one whole hour I had forgotten about the party, the guests, and most importantly, about David! How unusual, and refreshing. Deep down, part of me knew that he was a lost cause to me, and had been for a long time.
My mother appeared at my side, and she gripped my arm. In a low voice she hissed into my ear, "Heather! What on earth do you think you're doing dancing so close to a complete stranger? So rude of you to ignore all your other guests."
"I'm sorry, Mother, I guess I just lost track of the time," I said distractedly, watching Aaron move through the crowd. I thought that he moved like a jungle cat, prowling and hungry.
"And I want you to stay away from that man," Mother said, "he's not for the likes of you. He's much too old and his taste in women is rumored to be, well, eccentric. Your father only invited him because he's a new attorney at your father's firm, and he's a very powerful man."
"What do you mean, his taste in women is eccentric? What does that mean?" I asked, my curiousity piqued.
"Never you mind. Just keep your distance from him," my Mother said firmly.
"I'm a big girl now, Mother, I'll make my own decisions," I replied, my tone challenging. If my mother was warning me off, then Aaron must be an interesting man indeed. My mother hardly ever took a stand on anything. It was obvious she was hiding something from me, and I wanted to know what it was.
She was about to say something else, when a friend of hers stepped up and began speaking to her. I moved away, grateful for the chance to escape before she lectured me any further. She shot me a meaningful glance as I walked away, and I wiggled my fingers in a so long gesture, smiling.
The quartet stopped playing, and the rock band began setting up. They began playing, music with a loud, driving beat. I was amused to see that the older crowd, mostly my parent's friends, began leaving in droves. Trying to play the proper hostess, I spent time saying goodbye and thanking them for coming.
My eyes kept following Aaron around the room. He smiled at me whenever he saw me looking, making me flush with pleasure. I just had to learn more about this mysterious man. I didn't know exactly what it was about him, but he'd caught my attention more quickly and deeply than anyone ever had before.
I found myself surrounded by a group of my old high school friends, and I drank another glass of champagne while chatting about old times with them. A while later, I scanned the room again looking for Aaron, and I couldn't find him. I excused myself, and began searching for him. He was nowhere to be found. I couldn't believe that he had left without saying goodbye!
This felt worse than being ignored by David. I was amazed at how profoundly Aaron had affected me. I had only just met him, and here I was depressed that he was gone! I actually felt like I wanted to cry.
I had to get myself together. This was my party, and I had to maintain appearances, no matter how I felt. I decided to go upstairs briefly for a few moments alone to regain my composure. So much had happened in such a short span of time, I needed a minute to think about it.
I went to my bedroom, and closed the door, drowning out the sound of the rock music from downstairs. I stepped out on the balcony through the french doors on the outside wall of my room. It was a typical April night in Chicago, and the air was cool and crisp. I leaned on the balcony railing and tried to gather my thoughts as I looked over the swimming pool on the back side of the house.
I stood there, feeling lonely and a little confused. Who was Aaron D'Alero? Why did he affect me so powerfully? Would I see him again? I desperately hoped so.
I was lost in thought when I felt hands lightly touching my shoulders. I turned around, and there he was. What on earth was Aaron doing in my bedroom? This was an inexcusable violation of propriety. I opened my mouth to protest, but he silenced me with a kiss.
Not just a kiss. A deep, electric shockwave passed through me as his lips met mine. His arms encircled me, crushing me against him. My resistance to his boldness at entering my bedroom uninvited evaporated without a trace. I kissed him back, shamelessly locking my arms around his neck. I felt his tongue probing at my lips, and I parted them, allowing his tongue into my mouth. My tongue darted out and discovered his, and our tongues began to dance just as we had danced earlier.
The sensation he gave me with that one kiss was unlike anything I'd ever experienced before. His hands began roaming over my bare shoulders, raising goosebumps everywhere he touched. Oh, I definitely wanted more of that. I could feel myself growing wet between the legs. I briefly wondered if this was an effect of the champagne I'd drunk, or if this man just truly felt this good.
He broke the kiss, staring deep into my eyes. His gaze was probing, as though he were reading my mind.
"W-what are you doing here?" I managed to ask, my voice shaky. "You shouldn't be in my room." It sounded so absurd given the way I'd just kissed him and the erotic thoughts I was having, but my "proper" upbringing forced me to say it anyway.
"I knew you wanted to see me again, Heather. I saw you looking at me all night. I'm just giving you what you wanted, or am I wrong?"
My first thought was, such arrogance! I opened my mouth to voice the thought, then abruptly closed it again. He was right. I had wanted to see him again. My eyes had been following him all night. His nearness made me feel so warm.
Instead, I asked him about what my mother had said. "My mother says I should stay away from you. She says you have, um, an eccentric taste in women."
He threw his head back and laughed heartily. "What a delicate way to put it! Apparently my reputation precedes me." His dark eyes glittered with humor.
"What do you mean?"
"It sounds like your mother has heard, probably through your father, about my sexual preferences. You see, Heather, I am a dom. It's sort of a game I like to play with women I'm attracted to."
"A dom? What is that? I don't understand, Aaron." This was getting even more interesting. First, this man had come into my room and kissed me until I was dizzy, then he starts telling me about his sexual preferences. And I was too intrigued to care that he wasn't supposed to be in my room.
"I'm a dominant man. I am attracted to submissive women, women who will do whatever I ask. I get off on being obeyed," he said frankly.
"A game? You mean you like to order women around? You want a meek little woman who has no mind of her own? Then what do you want with me? I'm not like that at all." I was worried that we had misjudged each other.
"You don't understand, Heather. The women I like aren't meek or weak at all. They crave being told what to do. They get off on pleasing me and it's completely their choice to do so. And as for what I want with you, you are a beautiful young woman, Heather."
He paused, as if to let the weight of that to set in, then continued. "You're too young to truly know what you want from a man, especially since you've been sheltered here in this mansion all your life. But I thought I'd give you the chance to find out. The choice is yours...I can leave now and you'll never be bothered with me again, or I can stay, and I can begin to teach you what I'm talking about. I can feel that you want me, but it must be on my terms."
My heart was thudding heavily in my chest. I was afraid of what he was saying. I really didn't understand. I really did want him, but all this was so confusing. "I don't know, Aaron. Maybe you should go and let me think about it for awhile." My voice was unsure. The thought crossed my mind that might be because I badly wanted him to stay.
"Indecision is really a decision in itself. Maybe someday when you're older and wiser and have learned a few things, we can discuss this again. Good night, Heather." His face was stone serious. He was leaving, just like that. He had been upfront about what he wanted, and he expected an immediate decision about it.
A kind of panic pressed down upon me. I knew I'd never see him again, and I very much wanted to see him again. That kiss alone was enough to convince me of that.
As he released me and turned to leave, my heartfelt choice broke through like a wrecking ball crashing through an old wall. "Wait! Please wait, Aaron. I want to understand. Please help me learn what you want!" My tone was pleading. I couldn't let him leave.
That must have been exactly what he wanted to hear. He turned back to face me, a smile brightening his face like the sun breaking through the clouds. His smile melted me where I stood, and I smiled back.
"Good girl, Heather. If you don't like the lessons I teach you, then at any time you can just drop out of school. But I think you'll like it just fine. Now, we need to get a few things clear before we begin."
"What things?" I asked, with an uncertain fascination.
"Unless we suspend the game of dominance and submission, you must agree to do everything I say. To obey me. And when you do things that please me, I'll please you in return." He punctuated his point by reaching out and caressing my face. His touch made me shudder with pleasure. "Do you think you can do that, Heather?"
"I-I'll do my best, Aaron. I will. I want to please you. But what do you mean by 'suspend the game'?" I couldn't believe what I was saying. I had just promised this man that I scarcely knew that I would obey his every command. I thought I must be losing my mind, but I meant what I said. I wanted to please him. And I wanted the reciprocated pleasure that he'd promised me. I felt a peculiar thrill run through me at the idea of pleasing him and earning pleasure for myself. I'd never had to earn anything in my entire life.
He patiently explained. "What I mean by suspending the game is that before we begin, we will agree on a 'safe' word or phrase that you may use if the game becomes too uncomfortable for you, or if I ask something of you that you find morally repugnant. But Heather, if you don't do as I ask at all other times, you'll need to accept whatever punishment I choose to give you," he said solemnly. "Remember, the choice is always yours. If you suspend the game, then punishment is also suspended."
Alarm bells began clanging in my head. "Punishment?" I asked. The question had to be asked, but in the back of my mind, I replayed what he was telling me. I could stop the game. There was always a way out. He wouldn't be forcing me, the choice would always be mine. I felt that pleasantly odd thrill again.
"Punishment can take many forms. I may choose to spank you, or tie you up. Or if it turns out that you like those things too much, then there are many other things. I can tease you mercilessly. Don't be afraid, Heather. I won't hurt you, unless you want me to," he said with a sly smile.
Like being spanked and tied up? Enjoying pain? I was confused and a little frightened, but I was also inquisitive at the same time. And I felt the unmistakable swell of sexual excitement growing within me as I listened to him. Nobody had ever spoken to me like this before, and the ideas he presented were new and totally foreign to me.
Somehow though, he made it all seem so appealing. Could I really dare to try this? Yes, my mind answered. Oh yes, my body confirmed. I once again thought about how his kiss had felt.
"All right, Aaron. I agree with that. But I can't imagine wanting to be spanked or tied up, or enjoying pain."
He laughed again. His laughter was music to my ears. "Well then, Heather, one of your first lessons will be on open-mindedness. We'll begin tomorrow evening. As for tonight, you need to get back to your party, and I need to leave. Do you have a pen?"
I fished a pen out of my bedside table, as he took one of his business cards out of his pocket. He scrawled a number on the back. "Call me at this number at eight o'clock tomorrow night. Eight o'clock, Heather. No earlier, no later, please. I'll give you further instructions then."
"I'll call at eight sharp," I replied. That sounded like such a long time away.
"Before I leave, I'd like to give you a little birthday present," he whispered. Somehow the whisper made it seem all the more important.
"Oh? And what present is that?" I asked, my voice low and husky.
He took me into his arms and kissed me again. My legs went weak. His hands began wandering over my body, stopping to cup my breasts through my gown and bra. Even through the fabric barrier I could feel my nipples hardening, and I moaned into his mouth.
Aaron took a step forward, forcing me to back up in order not to lose my balance. He backed me up until my back was pressed against my bedroom wall, without ever breaking the hot kiss.
When his lips did leave mine, it was only so he could kiss the sensitive skin of my throat and shoulders. As his mouth excited me further, I could feel him gathering up the hem of my gown and pulling it upward. I could feel my legs being exposed, bit by bit, until be had the gown's skirt gathered up at my waist. It was held in place by his weight pressed up against me.
His lips returned to mine, and he reached down and began caressing my thighs. I could barely control my breathing, and I knew that I was panting into his mouth. I was so excited, and I could feel my wetness tickling me as it trickled over my outer pussy lips. Oh god, I wanted him to touch me there.
He read my mind. His hand moved upward, and with one finger he parted my moist labia. I moaned, the sound muffled by his mouth on mine. He slid one finger into my pussy, then pulled it back out again. Next I felt him do the same thing with two fingers. He began pumping his fingers in and out of my wet slit, and my hips began moving forward to meet them with each stroke.
He broke the kiss and said, "I can tell you have a tight pussy, Heather. I'm going to enjoy your tight hole very much. And I can tell how much you like to fuck." I could only moan in response. I loved hearing his nasty-naughty words.
He pulled his fingers back out of me, and I made a mewling sound of protest. He smiled, and he found my aroused clit with his index finger and began caressing it. "Ohhh yesss," I hissed, feeling completely out of control, and loving it.
His finger began moving more urgently over my hardened clit. My hips continued to slide back and forth as I sought to increase the friction on my clit. He rubbed and rubbed, all the while staring intently at my face.
Soon I could feel the waves of pleasure intensifying and I knew that I was going to climax soon. "Oh, Aaron, I'm going to come!"
At that moment, Aaron switched tactics and began rapidly pinching my clit between his index finger and thumb. The incredible sensations pushed me over the edge, and I couldn't help but to cry out as I came. The orgasm was the most powerful I'd ever had, and his fingers kept working until the sensations began to subside and my body quivered all over.
He kissed me briefly, and said, "Happy birthday, Heather. That's a small sample of what you can expect when you properly please me. And don't forget, eight o'clock tomorrow. Good night."
He released me slowly, and left the room. My legs, turned to rubber after the intense orgasm, collapsed beneath me. I slid down the wall and sat down on the floor, pleasantly dazed.
A broad grin spread across my face as I realized that David Kershaw hadn't been the next to feel how wet my pussy got after all. And that I couldn't be happier about it.
I didn't realize until much later what a generous gift Aaron had given me.
FORMER PRINCESS, Part 2
**********
The day after the party passed by with excruciating slowness. All I could think about was Aaron, and the things I had agreed to, and the out-of-this-world orgasm he had given me. I thought about how much I wanted to please him, and how the thought of submitting to his will appealed to me in a way I didn't quite understand. I hoped he was thinking about me too.
David Kershaw only crossed my mind once that day. I couldn't believe how hung up on him I'd been all these years. Sure, he was good looking, but he was nothing like Aaron. After a couple of brief hours with Aaron, I no longer wanted David at all. It was liberating.
As the clock crept nearer to eight o'clock, I began to get nervous, yet I was excited at the same time. What was he going to ask of me? Did I really have any hope of being able to say and do what he wanted? Would I make a mistake, causing him to punish me?
My heart was beating like a jackhammer as I dialed the number Aaron had given me. The phone began to ring just as the clock in the hallway began chiming eight.
He picked up on the second ring and said, "Thank you for being so prompt, Heather. Here is what I would like for you to do now. There is a shop at the corner of Altum and Majors called Miranda's. I want you to drive there and pick up a box that I've left for you. Open the box before you leave the shop and inside you will find further instructions. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Aaron, I understand." The mere sound of his voice caused my stomach to do a happy flip-flop.
"Good. Do as you're told and you'll see me later tonight. Now get going, please." He hung up before I could reply.
I raced downstairs and called out to my mother, telling her I was going out for the evening. Before she could start asking questions, I slammed the front door and headed for the garage. I climbed into my car, a '96 Jag coupe, painted midnight blue.
It was a half-hour drive to the shop, and I was somewhat distressed to find that it was in a less-than-desirable Chicago neighborhood. I parked at the curb as near to the shop as possible, locked my car, and hurried toward Miranda's. When I reached the shop and peered through the large plate glass window, my mouth dropped open in shock.
There was a sign in pink neon script that read, "Miranda's. Fantasy Clothing, Adult Toys, XXX Magazines and Videos." The window display consisted of a female blow-up doll wearing a black lace teddy, surrounded by a variety of jars and tubes of various lubricants and scented massage oils.
I took a deep breath, gathering my courage before I opened the door and tentatively stepping inside. I was relieved to find that the store was almost empty of customers. In the entire shop, there were only a couple of guys looking at the video selection, and a pretty, petite Hispanic woman working behind the cash register.
I stepped up to the woman and said, "Excuse me, ma'am? I'm supposed to pick up a box from Aaron D'Alero."
She smiled knowingly at me and replied, "Ah. So you're Mr. D'Alero's latest lady friend. He does have taste, I'll give him that." She looked me up and down, appraising me. I didn't know whether I should be offended, or flattered. I chose flattered.
She pulled a large, flat box from behind the counter and handed it to me. I opened it, my hands trembling slightly. Inside the box, the first thing I encountered was a note. It read, "Heather, inside you will find an outfit that I want you to put on before you leave Miranda's. Only wear the items in the box, nothing else, please. When you're dressed, drive to the following address and use the enclosed card key to access the building's private parking lot. Enter the lobby, and tell the security guard that you're there to see me. He'll call up to announce you, then he'll send you up to my apartment where I'll be waiting. Aaron."
I pushed back the tissue paper in the box and peered inside. Something red, and silky. I grabbed a spaghetti strap, and lifted it out of the box. He's got to be kidding, I thought. But I knew better.
It was a dress, sort of. It was red silk, and it looked like it was made of less fabric than an average handkerchief. It had the thinnest of spaghetti straps, and appeared to be outrageously short. Also contained in the box was a pair of black thong panties and a pair of black thigh high stockings.
I only hesitated for a moment before asking the saleslady if the shop had a dressing room. She grinned, and gestured towards the back of the store. As I began walking towards the dressing room, she said, "Miss? I almost forgot. What's your shoe size? That's the only size Mr. D'Alero wasn't sure of."
I smiled, looking down at the tiny dress in the box. "I find it hard to believe that wasn't the only size he wasn't sure of! My shoe size is a seven, though."
The woman giggled. "Go ahead on back to the dressing room and I'll bring the shoes he chose back to you, in a size seven."
In the dressing room I stripped out of my clothes and slipped on the thong panties and the black stockings. I pulled the dress on over my head and peered into the mirror. Oh my, I thought. It was strange. I had never seen myself dressed in such a way -- slutty.
The dress was very low cut -- one more inch lower and my nipples would have been exposed. As it was, the outlines of my braless nipples were completely visible through the clingy fabric. The dress's skirt barely covered my ass. If I bent over even slightly, the thong panties and my bare ass would be clearly visible to anyone who happened to be looking. I mentally began ticking off a possible list of people who were going to see me dressed like this before I even got to Aaron's -- store customers, people on the street, whoever was in the lobby at the apartment building.
I was still gaping at my scantily clad reflection when the saleslady knocked on the door and said she had the shoes. I was almost afraid to see the shoes, but I opened the door anyway. She grinned and whistled at me, and I blushed. "Ooh, he is going to be pleased, honey. You should be too. Here are your shoes." I liked her more and more all the time.
She held out a pair of red pumps, shiny leather, with five-inch stiletto heels. I slid them on, and my first thought was wow, these are hot! They made my long legs look even longer. I looked at my reflection one more time, and I decided that if this was how Aaron wanted me to look, then I liked it too.
I knew I was going to need more help on this whole dom/sub thing. I asked the saleslady if she had any magazines that would help me get started with this whole scene. "Nothing too extreme," I requested with an embarrassed grin.
"Of course,!" She quickly picked out a couple of magazines and a video, as though she knew the entire store's inventory. "This stuff will help you get started, and if you have any questions, just call me personally," she said. Then she smiled coyly at me. "I'm always here. I'm Miranda, and this is my store."
I grinned broadly. "I may just take you up on that. I have the feeling I'll have plenty of questions. Thanks, Miranda."
As I left the shop, the two guys who had been looking at videos also whistled at me. I grinned and headed towards my car. Just as I reached my car, a man shouted from across the street, "How much, baby?" It took me a minute to realize that he thought I was a hooker.
I jumped in my Jag and pulled away, when I was overcome with a fit of the giggles. This was actually fun, in an unexpected way. Even though I was following "orders," I had an overwhelming sense of freedom.
It took another twenty-five minutes for me to find Aaron's apartment building. I drove up to the garage entrance and inserted the card he had left for me into the reader. I parked on the second floor and had to walk down a flight of steps to get to the lobby. There was only one other person in the lobby, the security guard. He looked up at me, and his eyes were immediately glued to my tits. After a ten second hesitation, he said, "Yes, ma'am?"
"I'm here to see Aaron D'Alero."
"And your name, ma'am?" he asked my breasts.
I told him, blushing, and he called Aaron's apartment to announce me. He directed me to the elevator, and said, "Mr. D'Alero's apartment is 312. Just take a right off the elevator."
I reached his apartment, and stood outside for a moment, gathering my courage. I had no idea what to expect once I went inside.
I rang the bell, and Aaron answered a few seconds later. He didn't speak for a moment, instead he just looked at me. His gaze began at my eyes, moving down over my barely covered body, and back up again. He met my eyes again, and smiled. "Come in, Heather. I knew that dress would suit you."
"Thank you. I hoped you'd like the way it looked on me," I said. He looked so good that the very sight of him made my pulse quicken. He was wearing charcoal gray slacks and a wine colored sweater that nicely complimented his dark hair and eyes.
"It may cover more of you than I'd like, but it wouldn't do to have you getting raped on the city streets." He leaned over and kissed my cheek. "Welcome to my home. Come in, and let's talk a bit before we start your education about our game."
At his mention of the game and my education, I felt a rush of apprehension mixed with excitement. It was a powerfully intoxicating combination of emotions.
He led me into his apartment, and I looked around, impressed. It was a large, welcoming apartment decorated in subtle, soothing colors. The artwork on the walls was tasteful and interesting, and one entire wall of the large living room was lined with polished wood bookshelves that were filled floor to ceiling with books. The room was attractive and desirable, just like it's tenant.
He directed me to sit on a butter-soft beige leather sofa. I sat, and I was acutely aware of how much my dress rode up as I did. I fidgeted, pulling at the hem, trying to cover a bit more of my exposed thighs. Aaron smiled at me with amusement. "Are you having trouble getting comfortable, Heather? How about some champagne to help relax you?"
I nodded, and he went into his large, open kitchen. I could see him pulling two champagne glasses from the cupboard, and I was impressed as he disappeared behind a cabinet, and reappeared holding a silver ice-bucket with a bottle of good champagne already in it.
He sat the glasses side by side on his wood and glass coffee table, and popped the cork on the bottle. He quickly poured us each a glass, and returned the bottle to the ice bucket. He handed a glass to me, and sat down on the opposite end of the sofa from me.
He raised his glass, and said, "Here's to the beginning of what I think will be a stimulating and satisfying friendship. To our game."
"To a stimulating and satisfying game," I agreed, and touched my glass to his. Our eyes were locked together as we tasted the champagne.
"All right, Heather. Before we begin, we must choose a word or simple phrase for you to use if for any reason you need a break in the game. It should be a somewhat uncommon word, something that isn't normally used in everyday conversation. Does anything come to mind?"
"Let me think for a second", I said, my mind racing to come up with something appropriate.
"I have an idea," he said, "what's your favorite color?"
"Pink," I replied automatically.
"And your favorite flower?"
"Carnations."
"Then the phrase will be, pink carnations," he said, while reaching over his side of the sofa where I couldn't see. He smiled at me, and he lifted a single pink carnation from where he'd had it hidden. He presented it to me, and I took it almost reverently, as if it were made of pure gold.
I grinned, amazed. "How did you know?" I asked.
"I asked your brother, Gerald, isn't it? Nice young man."
"Thank you. It's a very thoughtful gesture."
"I'm a very thoughtful man, Heather. Please remember that my love of the game of dominance and submission doesn't nullify that."
"I will, Aaron," I said breathlessly.
"And now, Heather, one other thing. When we begin the game, you are to address me only as Master. I will call you whatever I wish, most likely either 'slave' or by your name. Do you understand?"
"I understand," I said. Somehow the thought of calling him Master seemed perfectly appropriate. And the thought of hearing his voice calling me slave excited me.
"Good. You have the safe phrase. I'll teach you many, many other things as we progress. Are you ready to begin, Heather?" he asked, his dark eyes probing into mine. I sensed that he truly cared about my level of readiness.
My pulse rate sped up. Time to take a trip into the unknown. With anticipation and trepidation, I answered "Yes, Master." It sounded good rolling off my tongue.
His eyes were shining and the corners of his mouth turned up in a wicked grin. "Very good, slave. Relax, have another sip of your champagne."
I did. I drained the remainder of my glass, savoring the chilly tartness. I felt myself relax further, and I looked at Aaron. I raised my eyebrows, my expression asking, "What else?"
"Stand up, slave. Your new Master wants to get a good look at you."
I obediently stood and faced him.
"Now take your dress off, slave."
Breathing faster, I pulled the dress off over my head and laid it across the arm of the sofa. He stared at my body with undisguised lust. I almost felt physically touched wherever his eyes passed over me.
"Now the panties, slave. I want a closer look at my new pussy."
With only a second's hesitation, I answered, "Yes, Master."
I stripped the panties off. He stared at my pussy. His pussy. I gazed down and looked at it as well. I could see the dewdrops of moisture collecting on my labia.
I had never stripped down and stood naked like this in front of anyone before. I was mildly embarrassed and I could feel my face flush.
"Part your pussy lips with your fingers, slave, so I can see inside." His intense brown eyes were now locked on my face, as though he were measuring my reaction.
I took a deep breath, and with trembling fingers, I reached down and spread my labia for him. I could feel the lubrication that my body was producing in increasing quantities.
Aaron leaned forward for a closer look. He observed my exposed pussy as though he were examining a fine work of art, and that he was trying to memorize every detail. I squirmed under his intense scrutiny.
"Play with your pussy for me. Show your Master how you pleasure yourself when you are alone."
I could feel my face burning with embarrassment, but I complied. I began rubbing at my clit, which was slippery and wet. It felt good, and despite my embarrassment, I sighed contentedly.
Aaron smiled at me. "Very good, Heather. I know by the blush on your face that you're embarrassed. But I can also tell that you enjoy touching yourself, and that your distress only heightens the sensations. Am I right, slave?"
"Yes, Master. You are right." It was true. I rubbed my clit harder.
Without warning he reached out and shoved his index finger deep inside my pussy. I gasped at the unexpected intrusion, the moaned at the unexpected jolt of sensation. "Very tight. Very nice," I heard him murmur.
He began slowly sliding his finger in and out of my well lubricated hole, and I rubbed my clit faster. All sense of lingering embarrassment was obliterated by sexual lust.
I was nearing orgasm, and he knew it. He withdrew his finger and said quietly, "Stop touching yourself, slave."
I reluctantly stopped rubbing my aching clit. I looked at him questioningly. My legs were weak with desire and my head was spinning dizzily.
"One important rule you must learn early, slave, is that you may not come until I give you permission to do so. You will get off when it pleases me, and not before. Do you understand?"
"That will be difficult, Master, but I will do my best." I wasn't at all confident in my ability not to come when he touched me like that, but I was willing to give it my best shot.
"Good, slave. Please sit back down. I want to ask you some questions, and I want you to answer me honestly."
I sat, briefly glancing over at my dress drape across the arm of the sofa. I felt more exposed just sitting there in my stockings and shoes.
He smiled knowingly. "Slave, you will be naked in my presence a great deal of the time. I wish to look at what is mine. Tell me now if you object to that."
If he wanted to look at my nude body, then so be it. Right now, I wanted what he wanted. "If it pleases you to look at me, Master, then it pleases me also." I thought that sounded like an appropriate response.
He beamed at me. "Very good, Heather," he said softly, encouragingly.
I grinned back, my heart beating excitedly in my chest.
"I talked to Miranda at the shop," he said. "What did you think of fiesty little Miranda?"
"I liked her. She was very nice and very helpful."
"Ah, yes. She told me that she sold you some literature related to our game. Shows your initiative to learn to properly please me. I like that. So did Miranda make a pass at you?"
"Um, no. She told me I looked good and that you would be pleased with the way the dress looked. She offered her help if I had any questions. That was it."
"Tell me, slave, what would you have done if she had hit on you? Made a pass at you?" He was intently staring at my face again.
"I don't know. I've never been in that situation before, Master. But I'm not really attracted to women," I replied.
"You've never even kissed another woman?"
"No, Master, I haven't."
"Would you kiss another woman if I told you it would please me if you did?" His tone was probing, serious.
I felt that he was testing me, gauging my level of commitment to our game. I paused only briefly, quickly measuring my own comfort level. "Yes, Master, if it would please you for me to kiss another woman, then I would do it."
"All right, slave. And if I asked you to suck another woman's tits, to feel her nipples hardening in your mouth, would you do that, also?"
My stomach rolled with my newly found companion emotions of apprehension and excitement. This one seemed much easier. Somehow the notion of sucking a woman's tits seemed less intimate than kissing her. I had to admit it would be interesting to feel another woman's hard nipples in my mouth. "Yes, I would suck another woman's tits to please you, Master."
"How about if I asked you to eat Miranda's pussy, slave? Would you still obediently do as I tell you?" His dark eyes were locked to my face. I felt like he was trying to read my mind.
I had feared that he was leading to this. I so badly wanted to do as he asked and gain his favor, but I didn't know if I could do that. I tried to picture myself licking Miranda's pussy, and my mind resisted the thought. I squirmed in my seat, unsure, afraid of his reaction if I said no.
He could see my obvious discomfort. "I will give you some time to consider that, slave. Instead, answer this. If I asked you to allow Miranda to lick your clit, what about that? Would you please me that way?"
I swallowed hard. I hated to admit that I thought I would enjoy that. I loved having my pussy licked, and I knew that if I was aroused that I probably wouldn't care if the tongue were male or female. I also realized that if I allowed Miranda to eat my pussy, and not to reciprocate, then I would in a certain way be a hypocrite. Good enough to get, but not to give.
"Answer me, slave," he said, his tone commanding.
"Master, I would allow Miranda to eat my pussy, if it would please you."
"Would it please you, Heather?" he asked.
My face burned with embarrassment. "Yes, Master, it would. I love having my pussy licked," I admitted through clenched teeth. I don't know why that was so hard to admit, but I seemed compelled to tell him the truth.
He grinned broadly at me, and his smile was infectious. I smiled back.
"Of course you do, slave. There's nothing like a hot, wet tongue, whether you're a man or a woman. It's nothing to be ashamed of. And neither is giving the gift of your mouth and tongue to another man, or a woman."
He stood, and stepped in front of me. "Unzip my pants, slave, and take my cock out."
It was a quick turn of events, but I didn't hesitate one bit. With trembling hands, I opened his pants, and I was momentarily stunned by the sight of his huge erection bulging at the seams of his briefs. The plum-like head poked several inches out of the top of his underwear.
I gasped at the lovely sight and smiled up at him. I slid his briefs down, exposing his rigid cock in all it's naked glory. I gasped at his impressive size, and I took his cock into my grip. I moved my gaze from his erection back to his face, and said, "How may I please you, Master?" My voice was husky and shaking with excitement.
"Suck it, slave. Lick it, and suck it. I want you to get the whole thing into your mouth. Show me what you can do with your mouth."
His frank request sent a pleasant shiver through me. I leaned forward, and put my lips around the head of his cock. I ran my tongue over it, moistening it. This was the first time I'd had him in my mouth and I relished it.
I opened my mouth wider and swallowed several more inches of his rod. I felt his hands tangle in my long blonde hair, pulling me in closer.
I pulled back, sucking as I went. I could feel every bulge and vein of his cock sliding through my lips and under my tongue. I loved it.
I opened wide and moved forward again, forcing more and more of his cock into my mouth and down my throat. I tried hard to get all of it in, but I didn't quite make it before my gag reflex kicked in and I pulled back again.
"Relax your throat," he whispered. "This time it goes all the way in. Just relax and suck my whole cock down."
I relaxed as best I could and went down on him again. I just kept swallowing and swallowing, taking his huge dick in deeper and deeper. I moaned with lust, with my mouth full of him. He grasped my head and pushed the last remaining length of his cock into my mouth.
I was astonished. My nose was buried in his pubic hair, and I wasn't even gagging a little bit. On impulse, I reached out and stroked his full balls, causing him to moan with surprised pleasure.
He gently stroked my hair, and abruptly he pulled almost all the way out of my mouth. I instinctively knew that he was going to thrust his hips and push the length of his cock into my mouth again, and I forced myself to relax in preparation.
When he drove forward, I easily sucked down his entire cock. I shivered excitedly at my accomplishment. Soon he was rhythmically thrusting his cock into my mouth and I was swallowing and sucking it with wild enthusiasm.
I could taste his precum on my tongue, and I liked it. I wanted more.
Suddenly, he pulled back all the way, and I groaned with disappointment at the sudden departure of his swollen cock from my eager mouth. I had never wanted something so wantonly as I wanted to have his cock buried deep in my throat as he came.
He lifted my chin with his fingers, moving my gaze from his erection to his intense face. "You're very good at this, slave. You love this, don't you? Swallowing a nice hard cock?"
"Yesss Master, I do. I've never swallowed a cock as large as yours before, but I've always loved it anyway." Once again, I felt my face flush with the intimate admission.
He leaned forward slightly and tapped his throbbing cock against my wet lips. I started to open them, and he pulled away again. "Does it make you feel like a slut, sucking cock? Having your face fucked? Loving it so much...does it make you feel like a slut?"
I had never thought about it that way. It was true, though...I did love the carnal nastiness of it. It was a thrill to depart from the 'good girls don't go down' school of etiquette. I guess the sluttiness of it did appeal to me.
"Yes, Master. Sucking cock does make me feel like a slut. And I like it." The words sounded so surreal, being spoken in my own voice. I had just admitted that I liked feeling like a slut, liked swallowing cocks. Another of my nasty little secrets saw the light of day. Instead of feeling embarrassed, I could only stare longingly at his cock.
"So, slut, is this what you want?" he said, reaching down and idly stroking his cock.
My immediate reaction was to say, "Oh yes, Master. I want to suck your cock."
I saw his eyes darken and I realized my mistake. "You must learn to think before you speak, slave. Your role in our game is to please me. What you SHOULD want is whatever I want."
"I'm sorry, Master," I stammered. I was so overcome with lust and wanting for his cock that I had momentarily forgotten my part in the game. I had made a mistake. I regarded him imploringly.
"I believe that you are sorry, slave. But I believe I would be hampering your education as a submissive if I allow you to even momentarily forget your place. I think your lapse warrants a punishment to reinforce the lesson."
His handsome face was stern. I felt a mild current of fear run through me, but I forced it down. This was the game I had agreed to. I had the choice of accepting my punishment or to call a halt to the game. I took a deep breath, and said meekly, "Yes, Master."
I thought I saw his face soften ever so slightly. "Get up on all fours up on the couch. Rest your weight on your elbows, so your lovely ass is sticking up in the air."
I complied, and I looked nervously over my shoulder at him. I forced myself to keep breathing slowly and evenly, to keep my fear in check.
"I am going to spank you now, slave. Five swats. And during the punishment, I want you to think about your proper role in this game. My pleasure is your primary concern. Any pleasure I give you in return will be of my choosing."
I met his eyes. "Yes, Master. Your pleasure is my primary concern." I prepared myself for my spanking.
The first swat landed with a mild sting. The second landed in the same spot on my left cheek, and it stung twice as much. I gritted my teeth and tensed my body in preparation of the third swat.
The third swat this time was directed at my right cheek, and the fourth landed in the same spot. Now both of my ass cheeks were stinging. I wondered where the fifth swat would go. Before I had time to even guess, his hand swatted he across the exact same spot on the right cheek. That one caused me to jump and whimper slightly.
It was strange...I thought I should have felt humiliated, but instead I felt triumphant. I had endured the punishment, and it really hadn't been so bad after all. I felt like I had risen to a challenge.
I looked back over my shoulder at him again. "So, slave, tell me. What is your role in this game?"
"My role is to please you, Master. Any pleasure you give me will be by your choosing only, and I will be grateful for it." I was surprised at my choice of words.
He smiled brightly at me. "Very good, Heather. You have done well."
He reached out and gently rubbed the cheeks of my ass where he had swatted me. His hands felt so good on me, and it didn't take long for the stinging in my cheeks to subside into a pleasant mild tingling.
"Turn over, slave, and lay on your back," his voice commanded.
I obeyed, turning over and looking up at him.
He had at some point removed his pants and his briefs, and as I watched he pulled his sweater off over his head as well. My breath caught in my throat as I savored my first view of him entirely naked.
His body was muscular and lean, and he had a glorious covering of dark hair on his sculpted chest. His forearms and his hands were proportionally large and masculine looking. His erection looked even harder and larger than before.
I felt my excitement crest even higher when he said, "I am going to fuck you now, slave. I want to see if you're as wet as you look like you are, and if you're as tight as I think you are."
I remained silent, but I parted my legs wider in invitation.
He climbed on top of me, pinning me to the sofa with his weight. I felt his cock rubbing against my labia and over my clit, and I moaned at the sensation.
He met my gaze, his eyes burning into mine. At the same moment, he thrust forward, burying almost the entire length of his rod deep in my pussy with one stroke. We both groaned at the tight fit.
He kissed me hotly, and he slid his cock slowly back out. He thrust forward again, this time shoving his whole rod in clear up to his balls. I cried out, loving the feeling of being stuffed full of more cock than ever before.
He began pumping his throbbing erection in and out of me with a silken rhythm. My hips met his with perfect timing. I felt waves of heat radiating from the very core of me. I was nearing climax.
"Oh, Master...Your cock feels so good inside of me. I want to come! Please, Master!" I heard myself begging and I didn't care.
"Not yet, slave. Not yet."
He slipped his cock out of me, and I whimpered with disappointment.
He stood up again, and said, "Get back on your knees on the sofa, slave."
I complied shakily, wondering if I was going to be punished again. Oddly, that thought didn't scare me this time.
Instead, he kneeled on the sofa in back of me and entered me from behind. I moaned, struggling against the orgasm that was rising within me.
With one hand, he grabbed my hair and used it to pull me back harder on his pole. With his other hand, he reached around in front of my and began fingering my clit.
The direct friction on my sensitive clit caused me to scream out as I fought against my climax. This was torture. Sweet torture.
He jammed his cock into me harder, and it felt like it grew even larger inside me. His fingers increased their tempo as they stroked my swollen clit. I was gasping, losing my battle against the hot tide that threatened to pull me under.
He gripped my hair harder, and he leaned forward and hissed in my ear, "Now, slave! I want to feel your cum pouring over my cock. Come for your Master now!"
I ceased holding back and I was immediately overwhelmed with orgasmic sensations. My back arched involuntarily, and my legs began to shudder with the force of it. The muscles deep in my pussy began clenching and relaxing, rhythmically gripping his cock.
"Ahhh, yes, slave. Milk my cock with your cunt muscles."
He thrust his dick into me harder, and suddenly I could feel him explode inside me. I could feel his milky cum jetting into me, coating my insides with more heat.
We both collapsed forward, panting with exertion. Eventually, he scooted up behind me and lay with his arm loosely draped over me.
When I was able to speak, I said the only appropriate thing I could think of. "Thank you, Master. Your slave is grateful to you."
He smiled at me. "I am very pleased with your progress, Heather. You're a natural submissive. I have so many more things to teach you, but you've done very well for your first experience."
I was overwhelmingly thrilled. To hear him voice his expressing his pleasure with me made me feel happier than I could ever remember. At that moment, I knew something with complete clarity. I was hooked. I loved being Aaron's slave, and I wanted to continue forever.
My previous life as a princess somehow seemed so gray, so lifeless. I knew I could never go back to it. After only such a short time with Aaron, I felt more free, more alive than ever before. Aaron was a potent drug and I was thoroughly addicted.
I smiled at him. "Master, hearing that you are pleased makes me so happy. I hope that means I can continue to serve you."
"Oh yes, slave. Your Master is pleased, and I wish for you to continue your education as a sub with me. Now, regretful as it is, I must get up very early in the morning. You may leave, and I will call you tomorrow evening, or you may stay. If you stay, you should know that I'll require you eat me before you'll be allowed to have breakfast." His eyes glittered mischievously.
"I'll stay, Master. For as long as it pleases you, I'll stay."
**********
That's the story of my first night as a submissive-in-training. That was almost one year ago, and so much has happened since then.
My family, with the exception of my brother, Gerald, has basically disowned me. To my mother and father, I'm a shameful embarrassment to be shunned and disassociated from. Which suited me just fine. It had been much easier than I'd thought it would be when I told them about my relationship with Aaron.
I calmly told them that I now belonged to him, and I demonstrated it by proudly wearing the symbolic "ownership" collar that he had presented to me soon after we'd begun our game. It was a beautiful silver collar, decorated with exotic filigree designs. I had accepted it with tearful joy, and I treasured it as my most valued possession.
My mother and father had told me in no uncertain terms that if I didn't end my relationship with Aaron, then I wouldn't be welcome in their home. "No daughter of mine is going to be a whore for the whole world to see. If you continue, then you're no daughter of mine," my father had coldly informed me.
It probably killed them that they couldn't take away all of my money. I had inherited a trust fund from my grandfather when I turned eighteen, just as Gerald did. They couldn't take that away from me. I had liquefied some of the money which had been invested, and I gave the money to Aaron. He in turn attended to my every physical need. I didn't have to worry about anything.
My dear brother took me aside and said, "Heather, I don't claim to understand any of this. But I know I don't care about any of it. All I care about is you being happy and you doing what you want to do. You're my sister and I've always thought you were the only one in the family who was even close to normal. If this is what you want, then you've got my vote, sis." I grinned at him. I knew I loved that kid for some reason.
So I shook off the remains of my former life and immersed myself in my role as Aaron's slave. He taught me everything I needed to know about being a proper submissive to him. I was occasionally punished when I made mistakes, but Aaron had been right about how I would feel about being punished.
I tolerated it at first, then I began to enjoy it. After awhile I began to crave the nearly immediate forgiveness that would follow, and the physical discomfort soon became a pleasant association to the sexual pleasure I knew would happen later.
Sometimes he would spank me, and sometimes he would tie me up and tease me endlessly. He'd bring me to the brink of climax over and over, only to stop whatever he was doing at the crucial moment, time and time again. That particular punishment is more excruciating than it sounds. I'd beg, and plead, and scream for release. And I loved it. When he did allow me to come...oh my goodness, the dazzling intensity of it. Waiting for the reward made the reward so much sweeter.
A couple of times when I'd severely displeased him with mistakes, he refused to speak to me and he ignored me for hours. I hated that one. He claimed it would give me time to reflect on my mistakes, and I suffered through his disfavor, swearing to myself that I would not screw up in the same way again. After these silent periods, he was usually very tender and kind. I learned that he disliked withdrawing from me as well, and he saved that punishment for the sternest of rebukes.
I became more open minded. My sexual desire increased exponentially it seemed, and when walking around in a state of perpetual arousal, I looked less judgmentally on the various methods that people used to get off. The thought of sex with another woman bothered me less and less, and as time went on, the idea became attractive to me.
About six months after we started the game, Aaron and I had a threesome with pretty Miranda. I fulfilled my Master's every request enthusiastically, even eating Miranda's pussy when he told me to. I was amazed at how much I actually enjoyed it. She tasted sweet and salty at the same time, and the smell of her aroused pussy was intoxicating. When she actually came as I licked at her clit, her body reacted exactly as mine would have, and I was delighted.
So was Aaron. My Master was very pleased. As a reward for my obedience, he allowed Miranda to eat my pussy and gave me permission to come whenever I pleased. She got me off twice with her wet mouth and her talented tongue. I came again as my Master fucked me while Miranda sucked my nipples.
My Master once asked me to suck another man's cock while he watched. I thought it was some kind of test, so I asked, "Master, would it please you for me to do this?" I was secretly hoping that he'd say yes. The man's cock was already hard and inviting.
"Yes, slave. It would please me if you would suck his cock. I told him that my slave gave the best blowjobs in the city and I want you to prove it." His dark eyes were soft and encouraging.
I did it, and I loved it. While my Master watched I sucked the man's cock, with me happily slurping and moaning. I was on my knees in front of the man, swallowing his entire pole and making him shudder. My Master watched for awhile, and I heard him murmur, "Very good, slave."
My Master knelt behind me and thrust his cock deep inside me as I continued my oral assault on the other man's erection. He fucked me hard, and I sucked hard. Soon the other man was ready to come, and I moaned, fighting against my own building climax.
Aaron whispered, "Not yet, slave. Don't come yet." Those were the words I most dreaded and was most thrilled by at the same time. I had learned that the struggle made the ultimate reward infinitely better in the end.
The other man moaned loudly, and his hips began jerking irregularly. I felt his hot load coating my throat. I swallowed all his cum, and gently licked his sensitive cock head clean. The man moaned again, then croaked, "Man, you weren't kidding. Best fucking blowjob in the city. Hell, probably in the whole midwest."
Aaron laughed, then said to me, "A job well done, slave. You may come now." With that, my Master began pounding his cock into my soaking wet slit even harder, and his fingers found my clit.
I came powerfully, overwhelming in its intensity, almost immediately. My body was still in the depths of uncontrollable spasms and shudders, when the man reached out and began pinching my nipples, causing a direct reaction in my pussy. I felt my Master's cock swelling inside me at the same time, and my second orgasm hit me just as he came, filling my pussy with his warm fluids.
With each incident, and each learning, I became more at peace, more content with my place in the world. Pleasing my Master was all I cared about.
I knew my Master cared about me, too. About three months into our game, I became deathly ill with a nasty stomach virus. When he saw that I was sick, he suspended the game himself. He took care of me for three days straight, attending to my every need. I was completely helpless and miserable, and he patiently nursed me back to health.
When I was feeling better, I stripped out of my gown and robe, entering the living room totally naked. I smiled at him and said, "What can I do to please my Master?"
He beamed broadly as I resumed the game. "Ah, I can see that my slave is feeling much better. I'm so glad," he said sincerely. That night I worked extra hard to please him, to thank him for caring for me. And I fell a little more in love with Aaron D'Alero, and a little more in love with our game.
I never know what each knew day is going to bring, or what my Master may ask of me. Something about never knowing what's going to happen next makes me feel endlessly expectant, perpetually aroused, never bored or weighed down with numbing sameness.
My life is full and satisfying. I am no longer a princess. I am a dedicated, committed, gloriously happy sex slave.
That is my story so far. I can only guess where it will lead from here, but I know I'm in this game for as long as it plays. I can't help but love a game where there are no losers, and where everyone wins the prize.
