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She loves oral - Part 3
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
As Richard led me downstairs from his bedroom, I was still
kind of dully excited. It's the sort of thing that happens to me
occasionally when I get sexually excited up to a point - but have
no climax. My pussy is tender, kind of itchy/achy deep inside the
flesh of the lips. My clitoris is swollen and I feel little shocks
of pleasure when I walk. I was still very wet - he had given me
no opportunity to wipe myself off or anything - and I was intensely
conscious of that, since I would never just walk around like that.
As we passed my bedroom, he told me he would meet me
downstairs in the living room. I went in, found the paper and pen
in the dressing table, where he said it would be, and wrote down
the name of the stockings as I had been instructed. Then I went
into the bathroom to "brush my hair".
The hairbrush he had spoken of was on a counter to the right
of the sink. As I picked it up, I saw that it was round, with
bristles all around. It had a small head - almost like a child's
brush, I thought. I raised my skirt and pettycoat up with my left
hand and, looking in the mirror to see what I was doing, I began
to brush my pubic hair.
I had never done this before, and I was surprised at how good
it felt. Of course, I was so excited that any attention paid to
the area around my pussy was going to be pleasurable. But this was
relaxingly exciting. It kept the thrills of electricity jumping
through the lips of my pussy and each tiny tug pulling on the lips
made my clit throb. I could have gotten lost in the feeling - but
I knew without his having told me that Richard expected me to do
what I had been told and get downstairs immediately. So I
concentrated on brushing and sort of twisting the handle of the
brush as I stroked, which made my pubic hair fluff out the way
Richard wanted it. There was something very strange about styling
my pubic hair for a man I had only met once before and with whom
I had not even gone to bed yet - but it was exciting and kind of
nasty, which was exactly what I wanted!
I finished and smoothed the dress and crinoline back into
place. I was happy to see that, even though Richard had made me
stand with the skirt bunched up over my waist for quite a while,
it still looked unwrinkled and presentable. I wanted to look good
for him - particularly for this first meeting.
As I entered the living room, I saw that Richard was sitting
in an easy chair, sipping a glass of champagne. I walked over
toward his chair, but didn't get too close. I was unsure what he
wanted of me, and preferred to be safe rather than sorry.
"Come over here in front of me and lift your skirt so I can
see how you look," Richard ordered.
I stopped about 3 feet in front of him and lifted the skirt.
He sat there for a moment studying me, then nodded and told me to
let my skirt down.
"That's good, Michelle," he said. "From now on, when you're
with me, you'll pay particular attention to your pussy hair for me.
I want you to brush it often, like that. I like it to be brushed,
on either side, away from the lips, so they are clearly visible.
You have thick, luxurient hair there. While it's attractive, we
don't want it to cover up those lips." He smiled at me. "When you
shower, I will expect you to use shampoo and conditioner on it, as
you would the hair on your head. Since it pleases me to see your
pussy hair looking good, it will please you to make sure that it
does. Understood?"
"Yes, Master," I replied, my eyes directed toward his crotch,
as I had been ordered to do earlier. For the first time, I thought
that I detected more there than usual. It looked like he had a bit
of a hard-on! Thank God!! Maybe I was finally turning him on!
"We have reservations this evening at a restaurant down in
TriBeCa called "211". Are you all ready to go out?"
"Yes, Master," I responded. I was becoming very careful. I
would have liked to say that I was ready, unless he wanted me to
dress differently, or anything. I would not, by myself or with
others, have gone to TriBeCa wearing what I was wearing. It was
the artists' section of New York, and everyone down there,
practically, wore black cotton everything in the summer. But I
knew that to do more than simply reply would be to incur his anger.
"Good! I have a small evening bag here for you to carry. It
has everything in it that you might need. No need to open it and
look - just take it with you."
"Yes, Master," I meekly replied - but I was immediately
suspicious. Why didn't he want me to look into the bag?
I followed him out the front door and stood on the landing
while he locked the door and set the alarm. It was a beautiful
late summer evening - warm enough to be comfortable wearing very
little, but not hot enough for me to be uncomfortable with the
petticoat and stockings I was wearing.
We walked out to the sidewalk and toward Seventh Avenue to
look for a cab. He took my arm, and to everyone who passed us we
must have looked like two "normal" lovers. I felt relaxed and
comfortable with him - but I couldn't escape the novel feeling of
my naked pussy under my dress, and the coolness as the breeze
occasionally found the small drops of moisture that coated the
outer part of the lips.
After a short ride down to the lower part of Manhattan, we
drew up in front of a really lovely restaurant set in the street
floor of a manufacturing and warehouse building. Out front were
a number of tables. One, it turned out, had been reserved for us
-
a table for four with two chairs on adjoining sides, just to the
left of the front door.
I sat down in the chair closest to the street. The platform
the tables were on was elevated about four feet above street level,
so we had a great view of the passing parade of pedestrians.
Richard sat on my left. He ordered champagne for himself and
seltzer water for me (since I don't drink) and settled back,
getting comfortable. It was obvious that all the waiters and
waitresses knew him and deferred to him as one would to a favored
customer.
As we reviewed the menu, Richard told me to relax and talk
"normally" to him. He would not, at this stage in our
relationship, force me to call him "Master" in public, he said.
Although it was nice to relax and enjoy the evening, there was a
certain "edge" that I had already begun to enjoy in our roles of
master/slave that I sort of missed.
Dinner was delicious. After salad and the main course, we
both elected only coffee for desert. I was full - and some of the
excitement, which had subsided while we ate our meal and talked
quietly, was coming back. I had butterflies in my stomach,
remembering the purpose of the weekend, and assuming that we would
get back to that purpose when we got back to the apartment.
As we sipped our coffee, I felt Richard's hand on the inside
of my left thigh. The skirt was short and rode up quite a ways as
I sat - so my legs were almost completely bare under the
tablecloth. No one could see as he stroked and caressed me -
within a few feet of other diners and right above the heads of the
pedestrians. I sat, not moving, as his hand went higher and
higher, above the top of my stocking. He stroked the sensitive
skin of my groin, between my thighs and my pussy, with just the
tips of his fingers. In fact, his hand flitted here and there all
around my pussy and my clit -but never touched either. I was
churning with excitement, and my lips were wet, again, from it.
I wanted him to touch me there so badly - but I could only sit
there casually chatting with him, putting on a front for the other
diners.
When I thought I couldn't take it any more, he suddenly
stopped teasing me. His hand rose from my legs and, grasping my
left hand, drew it under the tablecloth and down to his lap. When
he let go, I realized that his zipper was down and his cock was
exposed! For a moment, my hand just lay there. I was too shocked
to do anything about it. I looked at him, and his eyes bored into
mine. The meaning was clear, of course, and slowly (careful not
to make a movement which would be seen by others) I took his hard
cock in my hand.
It was much larger than I had thought. Thicker and longer,
from the feel of it, than most of the cocks I had experienced
before. I began to stroke him and found that he was not
circumcised, which surprised me. For some reason, he was the first
uncircumcised man I had ever been with. I enjoyed the feeling of
the foreskin sliding up and back over the head of his cock - and
the excitement of feeling the head stick further and further out
until it was fully exposed. As I slowly stroked his cock, he
carried on a perfectly normal conversation - as though nothing at
all were going on! I had never encountered a man who was so calm
and collected. I, meanwhile, was dripping wet and dying to go back
to the apartment and (as I thought to myself) really get going!
After I had stroked him for a few minutes, he leaned his head
close to mine and whispered:
"I want you to go into the Ladies' Room. If you need to, you
may relieve yourself now - and I would suggest it, since you may
not have another opportunity for some time. When you are through,
I want you to wash your pussy clean - I want it fresh and sweet
smelling. In your bag you'll find a brush similar to the one you
used back in your bathroom. You'll also find something else that
I want you to wear. It should be obvious how it works. It had
better be, since you'll be punished if you don't get it right. Now
leave immediately!"
We were obviously back to Master/Slave - and I was delirious
with excitement, again. I regretfully let go of his cock and stood
up, walking toward the rear of the restaurant, looking for the rest
rooms. When I found the Ladies' Room, I sat down immediately and
urinated - I had been holding it in for quite a while, and it had
started to get uncomfortable in the last few minutes. It was a
relief to be able to pee. When I was finished and had flushed the
toilet, I walked over to the sink and carefully washed myself using
the fine scented soap and paper towels I found there. After I
dried myself off, I looked in my handbag for the brush. It was in
there, all right - underneath a cock-shaped thing about five inches
long and quite fat. It had an adjustable, elasticized set of half-
inch straps that was clearly designed to hold it in place, with one
strap to go over it and between the legs which joined another
around the waist. As he said - it was obvious how it worked! I
brushed the hair away from my pussy lips and spread them open. I
had never used a dildo before, but I was excited and trembling at
the thought. I carefully slid it into my pussy and tightened the
straps to hold it firmly in position inside me. It was strange to
move around and feel this thing in me - and very sexy! When I was
sure it wouldn't fall out or move a great deal, I again used the
brush to style my pubic hair the way Richard liked it.
I walked back out to the table, feeling the dildo inside me
and almost falling down with the continual flow of pleasure from
my pussy. I reached the table and sat down, allowing the dress to
ride way up my thighs again, nearly exposing the tops of my nylons.
I wanted to reach over and stroke his cock, again, but I was afraid
to take permission to do that for granted. And I knew we were back
to the stage where I was not expected to initiate any discussions
-
so I just sat and waited to be told what to do.
"The check's paid, my dear. Let's walk a bit before we get
a cab, shall we?"
He took my arm, led me down the steps and started walking
west, which I knew wasn't the direction we'd go if we were looking
for a cab. He was just roaming around, and it was a nice night and
everything - but I had a dildo in me that was doing things that I
had never felt before with each step! I just prayed that soon we'd
be heading home and I could have the climax I'd been building
toward for several hours, now!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
That's the end of Part III of the story of Michelle's
transformation into a slave. Watch for the fourth part, titled
ORALGAL4.ZIP, which will be posted soon.
If you LIKE the story, or have comments or suggestions for plot
twists, please let me know! Send E-mail to Omni Girl on the
personal message board.
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