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Former Princess

By: Ginger



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 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.


Former Princess Ch. 2



Chapter 2: Master Aaron

Author's Note: This is intended to be a sequel to "Former Princess," another story in this category. I have written this sequel in response to the many kind requests I have received from readers on this site. Many thanks to all of you for your encouragement. - Ginger

* * * * *

My name is Aaron Michael D'Alero, and I am thirty-six years old. I have been dominating women for twelve very thrilling, fulfilling years. 

I fell in love with the Dominant/submissive lifestyle when I was twenty-two, when I was introduced to it by a gorgeous older dominatrix who trained me as her submissive. I spent two years serving her, worshipping her, learning from her. I credit Mistress Pamela for showing me a new life, and I often remember her fondly for it.

When our relationship ended (amicably), I switched roles and began my life as a Dom, and I have never switched back since. I've learned that I am meant to be the one in control, and I covet every minute I've ever spent mastering the submissive women with whom I've been involved.

To me, there's nothing more powerfully erotic than tapping the submissive side of strong women, gently peeling away their layers of civilized inhibitions, and revealing the animal, the true slut hiding inside of them. A rare few women can be truly submissive, to set themselves free and allow themselves to be mastered, to crave serving and achieving satisfaction through it. Those special women are the ones I love above all others.

When a Dom is fortunate enough to be the first to discover the willing submissive side of one of these rare women, there is no greater thrill that I know of than to probe and test her limits, and gradually expand her limits. I love being a teacher, training a woman, watching her achieve new heights of pleasure through submitting to my will.

It is one of these rare, untapped submissives-turned-slut I wish to tell you about. Her name is Heather Maxwell, and she is my loyal slave. I love her, and she loves me. She serves me on a full time basis, and I dominate her lovingly, thoughtfully, completely, and when necessary, sternly.

She is perfectly content being my personal submissive slut, but when I first met her, she knew nothing of the D/s lifestyle, not to mention that she was a spoiled, sheltered product of a wealthy family. What follows is my story of our meeting, her subsequent training, her collaring, and some of our early experiences together as Master and slave.

**********

I first saw Heather the night I attended a birthday party that was being held in honor of her twenty-first birthday, and her brother's eighteenth birthday. Heather's father was the CFO of the company that had retained my services as a corporate lawyer only a month previously. Many of Benjamin Maxwell's business acquaintances had been invited to the party, and it was the first opportunity I'd had to socialize with most of them.

I first laid eyes on lovely Heather Maxwell the moment I walked in the front door of the Maxwell's mansion-like home. My eyes were drawn to her immediately. 

She looked beautiful in a long pink gown, her creamy shoulders bare and her shiny blonde hair styled elaborately up away from her face. She had a pretty face, with striking blue eyes, high cheekbones, a slightly upturned nose, and full, sensuous lips.

Her body was incredible. She had plentiful, soft-looking breasts atop a slender waist, and a lovely rounded ass. Such a shame her legs were covered by her long dress. My perusal of her moved on to where she was showing the most skin -- the view of her extraordinary cleavage.

Not surprisingly, I found myself mentally undressing her. My heart rate sped up as my imagination formed visions of this stunning young woman's naked body. Somehow I knew that my made-up images wouldn't be half as delicious as the real thing. 

And just like that, I wanted her. Lust at first sight. So I did what I always did when somebody inspired desire in me. I began observing her, taking her measure, learning what I could about her just by watching.

She was talking to a handsome, preppie-looking young man. She was animatedly greeting him, and the look on her face and tone of her voice told me that she was attracted to him. I heard him call her Heather, and I knew then that she was Maxwell's daughter. He returned her greeting stiffly, almost coolly. He quickly moved on, stopping to speak to Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell.

As the young man turned away from her, I thought that Heather looked disappointed, and touchingly vulnerable. The look passed quickly, however, as she took a deep breath and replaced her composed smile on her pretty face. 

I watched her moving through the growing crowd, smiling, shaking hands or hugging, and chatting with her guests. She moved gracefully, and her every gesture was smooth and languid. 

I felt my cock twitch inside my tuxedo trousers as I focused on her generous dark pink lips as she spoke to someone. She had the kind of beautifully captivating lips that always caused me to picture myself sliding my cock between them.

My impromptu fantasy of fucking Heather's lovely mouth was interrupted when I found myself next in line to greet the primary host and hostess, Benjamin and Elaine Maxwell. I shook hands with Benjamin, and he introduced me to his wife, a well-preserved, petite woman in her late forties. I briefly studied her face, and the only things that I could see that Heather had inherited from her mother were her clear blue eyes and high cheekbones.

The Maxwell's pointed out their children, the sexy Heather, and a nice looking son named Gerald. I made my way over to Gerald and introduced myself to him, congratulating him on his birthday. He smiled easily, shaking my hand enthusiastically. "Welcome to the party, Mr. D'Alero," he said. "Drinks and food are in the big room over there."

Gerald Maxwell was easygoing and friendly, a pleasant contrast to his stuffy, somewhat imperious parents. I wondered if Heather's personality was similarly likable, or if she'd bowed to the influence of her elder's snobbiness. I decided that I would wait a bit to introduce myself to Heather. I wanted to watch her for a while longer first.

For the next hour, as I made my way around the room talking to my new business associates, I discreetly kept my eye on Heather. I observed her interactions with people, some friends and some complete strangers. Occasionally, I'd catch bits and pieces of her conversations from a distance.

She seemed to be very polite, well-spoken, and intelligent. She smiled easily, and played the gracious hostess. She seemed friendly, but I could see that she had a subtle haughtiness about her, a vague air of superiority, at least at times. Not surprising considering she was a child of excess wealth, pampered and brainwashed.

At other times, when she was talking to close friends, she would become genuinely animated, with much laughter and many hugs. At one point, her brother came over and spoke to her, and it was perfectly obvious that she adored him. She was apparently capable of giving and receiving affection sincerely, which I always view as a good sign, a natural starting place.

Watching her, I became aware that she was surreptitiously watching the dark haired young man with whom she was speaking when I arrived. I was amused when I realized that she was trying to make her way over to where he was, but she kept getting interrupted.

When I saw her once again heading in his direction, I decided it was time to introduce myself to her. She was just about to reach him when I tapped gently on her shoulder, and she turned to face me.

For one quick moment, her face reflected annoyance at having been interrupted again. Her expression abruptly softened as she regarded me, and she favored me with a sincere smile.

I introduced myself, and wished her a happy birthday. When she spoke to thank me, I heard her voice up close and clearly for the first time. Her voice was smooth and melodic, engaging and expressive.

I asked her to dance, knowing full well that being raised a "proper" lady, she would feel obligated to turn down an intimate slow dance with a stranger. I was reasonably sure that she would accept, however. Something about the way she looked at me told me so.

I saw but a moment's indecision in her eyes, then she smiled and said, "I would be delighted." I could tell that she meant it.

I escorted her to the dance floor, and she turned to face me, her blue eyes shining brightly at me. I grasped her hand and placed my other hand on the small of her back, and she stepped in closer to me. We moved together easily as we chatted, getting acquainted.

I found Heather to be a most intriguing young woman. I was most definitely physically attracted to her, but I was also taken by her intelligence and obvious strength. I was also delighted that as we danced, she became increasingly relaxed, her body becoming more pliant in my arms.

I sensed that she was attracted to me also. Very subtly and slowly, I pulled her body closer to mine. I don't think she was even aware of how she was yielding to me, allowing herself to be drawn into an even closer embrace. Then again, maybe she was perfectly aware of it.

We were soon pressed up against each other, and we ceased talking altogether. I could feel heat radiating from her, and I heard her breathing becoming more quick and shallow. I was encouraged. She evidently was enjoying the feeling of dancing so closely with me more than she was worried about what others in the room must be thinking.

At one point, she met my eyes, as though she was trying to determine if I was enjoying this as much as she was. I held her gaze, studying her face and smiling gently. After a few seconds, she sighed contentedly, closed her eyes, and lay her head on my shoulder.

It was a small submission, but in closing her eyes, she had just put herself under my control, trusting me to guide her. My cock began to stiffen as I guided her gently around the dance floor, holding her close.

We stayed like that for quite awhile, until my erection began to throb almost painfully in its confinement. As much as I was enjoying being next to her, I knew it was time to break this up, at least until later. I still needed to say hello to a few other people at the party, and as hostess she needed to mingle as well.

I regretfully stepped away from her, and I could feel her immediate disappointment. The look on her pretty face was almost confused, as if she couldn't remember where she was or what was going on. When I told her that I'd see her again before I left, she beamed broadly. 

"I do hope we'll have a chance to dance again," she said. She said it suggestively, with a slight blush on her face, and I knew she was interested in me as well.

I decided at that moment that I wasn't going to waste any time to test the extent of her interest in me. I would tell her about my love for games of dominance and submission, and offer to have her join me before the night was through. My instincts told me to press for an immediate response from her. I had learned to rely heavily on my instincts in these matters.

I had been working such long hard hours since I'd moved to Chicago, I hadn't had time to seek out a submissive to serve me. My need was now very strong, and meeting Heather had added fuel to the fire. I think even then I heard the submissive slut hiding inside her calling out to me for release.

For the next hour, I mingled and met all the people I'd come to see. I caught Heather watching me several times, and even from across the room I could see the desire in her eyes. I'd only just met her, but I wanted her badly, wanted to possess and dominate her utterly. I felt that she wanted something from me, too, and I fervently hoped that we would both get what we wanted.

Later, when she was surrounded by a group of people, I could see her scanning the room looking for me. On impulse, I stayed out of her line of sight, watching her reaction as she tried to locate me. It wasn't long before she left her friends and began actively searching for me, walking around the room trying to spot me. 

I stood on one side of a huge potted plant, concealing myself from her view. At first, Heather appeared to be anxious, then after a while she started looking disappointed, even upset. She thought I had left. Watching her secretly like this, I could see plainly that I'd been right about her interest in me.

I was just getting ready to go over and let her off the hook, when she turned and left the room, a sad expression on her face. I followed and watched her ascend the winding staircase towards the second floor.

I smiled. This would be my opportunity to get her alone and see what happened. I followed her at a distance, and I saw her enter one of the bedrooms on the second floor. She had closed the door to the room, so I slowly inched it open and I quietly peaked inside. I saw her open the french doors on the outside wall and step out onto a balcony.

She stood at the balcony railing, looking out into the night. She looked sad and vulnerable, and achingly beautiful. I silently entered her room and crossed the floor, stopping just a couple of feet behind her.

I gently laid my hands on her bare shoulders. She quickly turned, her face a mixture of surprise, uncertainty, and even a hint of joy.

I knew that by being in her bedroom, uninvited in her personal space, I had put her off balance. I wanted her even more off balance though. Before she had the chance to speak, I took her into my arms and kissed her, hard.

She thrilled me by reacting immediately. She returned my kiss equally as passionately, and her arms locked around my neck. I could feel her body trembling against me, and I could hear her breath coming in short, gasping pants. 

I probed at her luscious lips with my tongue, and she instantly yielded, opening her mouth and allowing my tongue inside. At that moment, what I had suspected was confirmed. This young woman was hot.

I broke the kiss, waiting for her reaction. She was reeling, outwardly dazed. She stared at me with her piercing blue eyes for a moment, then she stammered, "What are you doing in my room?"

She was precious. The look on her face told me she knew how silly that question sounded after the way she'd just responded to my kiss. Her cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment.

I told her that I thought I was just giving her what she wanted. I could tell that her first reaction was to deny that, but she didn't say anything. 

Heather remained silent for a moment, and when she spoke, I was surprised by what she said. "My mother told me I should stay away from you. She said you had an eccentric taste in women. What did she mean?"

I laughed out loud. I was surprised her mother had said anything at all to her, but obviously she was talking about my lifestyle as a Dom, which had always been wildly speculated about and a source of gossip. Heather didn't know it, but she'd just given me the perfect opportunity to acquaint her with my desires and preferences.

I told her the truth, in a nutshell. I told her about my taste for submissive women, and I explained what I expected from women I was with. Then I offered to teach her.

I could tell by her expression and the questions she asked that she'd never heard of such things before, but that she was at least somewhat intrigued. I saw the indecision on her face as she tried to sort out her feelings. It was a watershed moment. I could almost feel her balanced between two extremes, with her pampered, sheltered life on one side, and with me and the mysterious unknown on the other.

She was confused, and I wasn't surprised when she suggested that perhaps I should leave her alone and give her time to think about it. I fervently hoped that my instincts had been right when I told her that perhaps when she was a little older and more experienced she would be ready to explore new horizons. 

I normally didn't push so hard, but I'll admit, I wanted her bad. And so far she was following along so willingly, I simply couldn't resist.

I rolled the dice, and I stepped away from her, turning towards the door as if to leave. I couldn't suppress a grin when not three seconds later, she stopped me. Her voice had a pleading tone, and she told me she wanted to understand, and to learn. She was sincere, and she seemed almost panicked that I was just going to walk away.

I began to lay out some of the ground rules for her, and she listened intently. Her eyes registered interest and her body language registered something else. Her breathing was still fast and shallow...her lovely chest heaved as she struggled to maintain control of her breath. She was also turned on.

I told her that her primary role was to please me, and that when she did that properly, I would give her pleasure in return. I introduced her to the idea of punishment for any misdeeds, and I explained about safewords. I emphasized that no matter what we did, the choice would always be hers to continue or to stop.

Heather agreed to the ground rules, and her face showed her own shock at consenting to something so new and unknown. With a pleased smile, I gave her my card and instructions to call me the following evening. She took the card from me almost reverently.

I knew that time was short and that she should get back to her party before she was missed and someone came looking for her. Before I left though, I simply had to touch her. I needed to feel her pressed against me once more, and I wanted to give her another taste of the pleasure that I knew I could give her.

I kissed her again, hard. Once again, she responded with an utterly consuming passion, and once again my cock stiffened in my pants. My hands sought out her lovely breasts, caressing them through her gown. I groaned inwardly when I could feel her nipples harden immediately, even through the fabric barrier that came between us. Heather moaned as well, a thrilling, needy sound.

I stepped forward, forcing her to step backward in order to keep her balance. I continued moving her backwards until her back was pressed up against her bedroom wall. My lips left hers so that I could kiss the creamy skin of her throat and shoulders. Her skin broke out in pebbly gooseflesh everywhere my mouth touched her, and I could feel her trembling with uncontained excitement.

Reaching down, I gathered up the hem of her pink silk skirt and slowly pulled it upward, exposing her shapely legs inch by inch. She was panting heavily, and I swore I could feel her need radiating off of her in waves of pure heat. Heather wanted me to touch her pussy, and I could feel it as clearly as if I'd heard her say the words aloud.

At that moment, it was clear that we wanted the same thing. I reached down and slid my fingers down into her satiny ivory-colored panties, and within seconds I encountered her already wet pussy lips. I parted her willing labia with my index fingers, and I pushed my finger into her impossibly tight hole. 

I couldn't believe how incredibly tight and wet she was. She felt like a prim, proper virgin who had suddenly been possessed by the spirit of a wanton slut. The combination was irresistible. 

I slipped another finger into her drenched pussy, and I began pumping the two fingers in and out. Within seconds, she was thrusting her hips forward to meet my probing fingers, fucking them.

In a low, husky voice I told her that I could tell she loved to fuck and that I looked forward to thoroughly enjoying her tight pussy. She moaned in response, and I could tell that hearing dirty talk turned her on.

I withdrew my fingers from her sopping cunt, and her little groan of protest was music to my ears. I began urgently rubbing her clit, which was already hardened with need. Heather's sounds of pleasure grew louder, and she began thrusting her hips even more intensely as she approached her climax.




Former Princess Ch. 2



I wanted nothing more at that moment than to pull my throbbing cock out of my trousers and shove it into her pussy. I could easily picture myself doing just that, and somehow I knew that she would not protest in the least. I also knew that it was not yet time. Despite my nearly overwhelming desire, I pushed the thought of fucking Heather's pussy from my mind. A good Dom must be able to control himself before he can even begin to control another.

I was brought back to my senses when I heard Heather's sweet voice saying, "Oh my god, Aaron, I'm going to come!"

I redoubled my attention to her engorged clit, and I began pinching her little bud between my thumb and forefinger. Heather was moaning wildly now, and I could feel the tremors passing through her body.

Suddenly, her body went rigid as her orgasm overtook her. Watching her face, I could see that her eyes were rolled back in her head as she was lost in the throes of passion. An animal sound was coming from her, one long, drawn out cry of pure pleasure. She began shuddering against me, and I could feel the juices from her pussy liberally coating my fingers.

I nearly came in my pants as I watched and felt her climax. I knew then that I must possess her, make her mine to do with as I pleased. I needed her, and I believed that she needed what I had to offer equally as much.

When I though she was once again capable of understanding me, I wished her a happy birthday and reiterated her instructions to call me the following evening at eight o'clock. I kissed her tenderly on the cheek and stepped away from her.

Her eyes met mine and focused, and while her lips moved, she still seemed incapable of speech. I turned away from her and crossed the room. Just before I pulled the bedroom door closed behind me, I looked back just in time to see her sink to the floor as though her legs could no longer support her. Her face was lit up with a completely contented, joyful smile.

**********

The next day was an extremely long one for me. I worked non-stop on a defense to a lawsuit that had been filed against the company I was working for, and I was mentally exhausted by midday. My erotic thoughts of Heather constantly recharged me, and by the end of the day I was nearly consumed with my desire for her.

Tonight she would begin her training as my submissive. My imagination ran wild, and I left work around five o'clock with a raging hard-on. 

I drove straight from work to Miranda's, a shop I had discovered a couple of years before on a previous visit to Chicago. Miranda's specialized in all sorts of sex toys, videos, magazines, and fetish clothing. Miranda herself was a lovely, petite Hispanic woman with fiery eyes and a killer body. She was an open-minded treasure, a switch who was always kind and helpful to anyone entering her shop.

I considered Miranda a friend, and I told her about Heather and my plans for beginning her training. Miranda assisted me in choosing the items I wanted for Heather. I picked out clothing that I knew would make Heather uncomfortable. I knew that if she followed my instructions and wore the clothes I asked her to, she would be displaying a high level of commitment to our game.

I chose a red silk dress, low cut at the neckline and extremely short at the hem. It had sexy little spaghetti straps, and I could feel my cock twitching to life again as I imagined what Heather would look like wearing it. I also picked out a pair of black thong panties and thigh high stockings with a black lace band around the top. 

I opted not to purchase a bra for her. I wanted to see her walk into my apartment with her gorgeous breasts bouncing free and unfettered. My last purchase was a pair of red shoes, pumps with an exceptionally slutty five-inch heel. I didn't know the shoe size, but Miranda assured me that she had that particular shoe in all sizes and that she would make a proper fit when Heather arrived.

Miranda boxed up the items for me, and I added to the box an envelope containing my instructions for Heather and my spare key-card for my building's parking lot. I asked Miranda to call me as soon as Heather left the shop to let me know that she was following my requests and that she was on her way. Miranda readily agreed and I gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek by way of thanks.

I went home and ate a light supper, my excitement preventing me from eating much. I did a little work, then I turned on some jazz music and stretched out on my sofa. Now the minutes ticked by slowly as I relaxed and waited for Heather's call.

At eight o'clock on the nose, my phone rang. Knowing it was her, I didn't even bother saying hello. I simply thanked her for being so prompt, and gave her instructions to go to Miranda's.

I hung up, my belly full of anticipation for tonight's beginning of Heather's submissive journey.

About an hour later, my phone rang again, and this time it was Miranda. Miranda told me that Heather had just left the shop, wearing the clothes that I had chosen. She told me that Heather had looked so hot in that little red dress, and instead of being uncomfortable, Heather had seemed both brave and excited with her new adventure. 

Miranda also informed me that Heather had taken the initiative to ask for reading material on D/s. I was exceptionally pleased to hear this. Heather seemed to be jumping into our game with both feet.

It wasn't long before the doorman to my building called to announce that Heather had arrived. I told him to send her up, and my heart was beating heavily in my chest as I waited. My cock was also rock hard.

My doorbell rang, and I opened the door. I was momentarily struck dumb by her beauty. I stared at her perfect body, barely clothed in the tiny red dress. Her nipples were visibly hard beneath the thin fabric, and I had to restrain myself from reaching out and touching them.

Heather was a gorgeous sight. Tonight her long blonde hair was hanging free, and her shapely legs looked impossibly long in those five-inch heels. Her clear blue eyes were filled with apprehension, not knowing what to expect now that she was actually here. She was breathing faster than normal, another sign of her nervousness.

She stood for a long moment merely taking in the contents of my apartment. She stared wide-eyed at my overflowing bookshelves and the rest of the décor, and I suppressed a laugh when I thought she was probably wondering where the dungeon was.

I smiled reassuringly at her and welcomed her to my home. I told her how great she looked, and her face lit up with a pleased smile of her own.

I offered her a seat on the sofa, and she sat down gracefully. As she sat, the short dress naturally rode up, exposing even more of her creamy thighs. I was amused as I could see her tugging at the hem, trying to pull the dress down further. I could also see that her hands were shaking slightly, an obvious sign of her fear.

I offered her a glass of champagne, which she gratefully accepted. Normally I didn't approve of combining liquor and D/s games, but it was obvious that her nerves were getting the best of her. At this point, I didn't want her afraid, but merely a bit off balance. I intended for her to only have a glass of champagne to relax her a little, and not enough to dull her wits in the slightest.

I smiled, and as my eyes met her, I proposed a toast. "Here's to the beginning of what I think will be a stimulating and satisfying friendship. To our game."

She raised her glass in response and said, "To a stimulating and satisfying game." She took a long sip of her champagne, her eyes never leaving mine.

Now it was time to choose a safeword that she could use in case things got too intense for her. When I asked her to pick a word not used in everyday conversation, I could see her mind racing as she tried to think of something.

Interrupting her thoughts, I told her that I had an idea. First I asked her her favorite color, then her favorite flower. "Pink, carnations" was her answer.

With a grin, I pulled a pink carnation from behind the sofa and handed it to her. It was a simple matter to find out what her favorite color and flower were by asking her younger brother.

She smiled genuinely and thanked me. My heart beat faster as I knew that our beginning was at hand.

Next I instructed her that from now on, she should address me only as Master unless I told her otherwise. I told her that I would call her whatever I chose. Then, with my voice full of excitement, I asked her if she was ready to begin.

It felt like my cock was going to split my pants when she responded, "Yes, Master." I will never forget how I felt hearing those words pass her beautiful lips for the first time. She was ready.

I told her to stand, which she immediately did. Next, I ordered her to remove her dress. She did so with shaking hands. Her eyes were wide and filled with apprehension.

God, she was beautiful. Her full breasts moved as she breathed and her dark pink nipples were hard and inviting. Her flat stomach descended to a small "V" of dark blonde pubic hair, and it appeared she was completely clean shaven below that. I had trouble breathing when I could see that her pussy lips were already shiny with moisture.

She had a tiny birthmark on her left upper thigh that was shaped like the country of Italy on a map. I had an immediate erotic thought of running my tongue over her little Italy-shaped birthmark.

As she stood mostly naked before me, I could tell that she was fighting to keep her arms at her sides instead of trying to cover herself with them. I was proud of her effort.

Her eyes were boring into me questioningly. "Now take off your panties, slave," I told her, "I want a closer look at my new pussy."

With an answer of "Yes, Master," she did as she was told, stepping out of the black thong panties and kicking them to the side out of the way. I leaned closer, inspecting her intimate anatomy as closely as possible without touching her. My face was only a couple of inches away from her pussy, and the scent of her arousal filled my nostrils. For several seconds I did nothing but inhale the intoxicating the smell of her. I desperately wanted to reach out with my tongue and taste her, but I didn't.

"Now part your pussy lips for me, slave. I want to see inside." I could hear the desire in my own voice. I watched her face closely for reaction, and I could tell that she was somewhat uncomfortable with the situation she was in. Just like I wanted her to be.

Heather complied, reaching down with her long, graceful fingers, parting her labia and revealing the dark pink wetness inside. I leaned in close to her once again, savoring every detail of her beautiful pussy. The longer I stared at her most private body part, the more she squirmed with discomfort. She may have been distressed, but that wasn't all. She was also aroused. The lubrication her body was producing was certainly evidence of that.

I directed her to play with her pussy, telling her that I wanted to see how she pleasured herself when she was alone. She obeyed, rubbing her clit frantically. Her face was flushed with embarrassment, but she was panting with excitement as well. Without being told, she spread her legs a bit further apart to gain better access to her aroused clit.

As she was rubbing her ripe little bud, she momentarily closed her eyes and I took the opportunity to surprise her. I shoved my index finger deep inside her pussy, causing her to groan with startled pleasure. I pumped my finger easily in and out of her wet hole as she fingered her clit even harder. She was taking in great gulps of air, and I could see her body begin to tremble. Heather was getting ready to come.

I abruptly pulled my finger out of her pussy and said, "Stop touching yourself slave, now."

She pulled her hand away from her clit and let out a disappointed sigh. I then explained to her that one thing she had to remember was that she was not able to come without my permission. I told her that she could only get off when it was my desire for her to do so, and not before.

Heather's mouth dropped open slightly, and she looked at me incredulously. Then with a smile, she told me that she'd do her best not to come unless I told her that she could.

I directed her to sit down so that we could talk for awhile. As soon as she sat down, I could see her discomfort at being mostly naked. She was eyeing the little red dress that was still draped over the arm of the sofa. It was funny, just a few minutes before she felt mostly naked while wearing the dress, and now it was obvious she wanted to cover herself with it.

I told her that she had better get used to being naked in my presence, as I liked to look at what was mine. I could see her mulling the idea over in her head, and I was delighted when she said, "Yes, Master. If it pleases you to look at me then it pleases me as well." My little Heather was learning quickly.

I decided that it was time to switch tactics and I began asking her questions. I made her promise that she must always answer me honestly, as any dishonesty could get her emotionally or even physically hurt. Honesty was imperative so that I could determine where her true limits existed.

I told Heather that I had talked to Miranda at the shop, and I asked her what she thought of Miranda. In all honesty, in the back of my mind I could picture the two of them having sex together, and I wanted to see if that possibility even existed. I needed to know if Heather had any bisexual desires.

"I thought Miranda was nice and helpful," Heather replied.

"Did she make a pass at you?" I asked.

"No, Master. She told me that I looked good, but that was it."

"What would you have done if she had come on to you?"

"I don't know, Master. I've never been in that situation before. But I'm not really attracted to women," she answered honestly.

"You've never even kissed another woman?" I asked, in an incredulous tone of voice. I knew that she hadn't, but I wanted her to understand that my opinion was that there was absolutely nothing wrong with kissing another woman.

"No, Master, I have never kissed another woman," she said, her voice indicating that she was afraid that this answer would disappoint me. She'd only been here a short time and already she was trying so hard to please me.

Next, I asked her if she would kiss another woman if I told her that I desired it. She gave it a few moments of real consideration, and she answered that she would kiss another woman if I asked it. I progressed, asking her if she would suck another woman's tits at my direction. It took almost no time for her to confirm that she would indeed suck another woman's tits for my pleasure.

When I asked my next question, her face blanched. "Would you lick Miranda's pussy if I asked you to, slave?"

I could clearly see her mind rejecting the thought. She squirmed with discomfort, and she moved her lips, trying to formulate an answer. I could tell that she was not ready for that kind of contact with another woman, but she was afraid to tell me the truth for fear that it would displease me.

I let her off the hook, telling her I would give her time to think about it. She sighed with relief, and she smiled gratefully at me. That was exactly what I wanted. I wanted her to feel grateful to me so that she would feel obligated to answer the next question.

"Slave, would you allow Miranda to lick your pussy if I desired it?" I asked.

I could tell immediately that the answer was affirmative, but that she was too embarrassed to admit it. She fidgeted, and I'm sure her mind was racing.

"Answer me, slave," I growled at her.

She jumped at the severe tone of my voice, but her eyes focused on me immediately. "Yes, Master, I would allow her to lick my pussy if it would please you."

"And would it please you, slave, to have her lick your clit?" I asked gently.

"Y-yes, Master, it would please me. I love having my pussy licked." Her face was burning with embarrassment and I could tell how difficult it was for her to part with that admission. She looked imploringly at me, her eyes full of shame.

I beamed happily at her. She was being totally honest, and at this point I was proud of her for it.

"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," I said reassuringly.

She smiled in return, and I could see her visibly relax. My approval was truly important to her. I had about a million more questions for her, but my aching cock told me that further questions could wait. I needed physical contact, and I needed it now.

I rose from my seat, and I stood directly in front of her. "Take my cock out, slave," I commanded her.

She seemed unshaken by the abrupt turn of events, and without hesitation she unzipped my pants. For a long moment, she merely stared at my erection that was peaking out of the top of my briefs. Heather's blue eyes grew wide, and she unconsciously licked her lips in a gesture of anticipation and longing. She reached out, and wrapped her long, graceful fingers around my dick, gripping it tightly.

Finally, she tore her gaze away from my rigid cock and looked up at my face. "How may I please you, Master?" she asked, her voice trembling and full of lust.

She had just asked the question I most wanted to hear. "Suck it, slave. Suck it and lick it. I want you to take the whole thing into your mouth. Show me what you can do with your mouth," I responded.

My request brought a smile to her face, and leaning forward, she wrapped her luscious lips around the engorged head of my cock. I could feel her running her tongue over the head, and my body involuntarily shivered. 

Looking down at her, I could see her open her mouth wider, and she pushed forward, taking several more inches of my dick into her mouth. She moaned with her mouth full of my rod, and the sound caused vocal vibrations to shoot through the length of it, making me moan softly as well.

Heather pulled back, sucking hard as she moved back. She pushed forward again, this time taking about three-quarters of my cock into her warm, wet mouth. She stopped at that point, and I could hear her gag slightly. She began to pull back again, sucking me as she went.

"Just relax," I whispered to her. "Relax your throat. This time, I want you to swallow the whole thing."

She bobbed her head forward again, and I tangled my hands in her luxurious blonde hair. When she had most of my cock in her mouth, I pulled her head forward until my erection was completely inside her mouth. This time, she didn't gag a bit. I left the entire length of my cock buried deep in her throat for a few moments, getting her used to the feel of it.

This time I was the one to withdraw, and after she had the chance to suck in a deep breath of air, I thrust forward, jamming my cock into her throat once more. She was moaning as she sucked me, and her enthusiastic tongue work told me that she loved this.


I began thrusting hard, shoving my cock into her willing mouth, over and over. The sensation was pure heaven, and I knew I wouldn't last long with the feelings she was lavishing on my cock with her mouth. I had to stop. I wanted badly to come, but I had already decided that the first time I came with Heather I was going to be buried deep in her tight pussy. I would wait for what I wanted.

I withdrew my cock completely from her mouth, and I could hear her little mewl of protest. "You're very good at this slave," I told her. "You love sucking a nice hard cock, don't you?"

"Yes, Master," she replied breathlessly. "I've never swallowed a cock as large as yours, but I've always loved it anyway."

I tapped my rock hard erection against her captivating lips. She started to open her mouth again to take me in, but I pulled my cock back out of her reach. "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?"




Former Princess Ch. 2



I could see that that thought sent her mind reeling a bit. She stammered, "Y-yes, Master. Sucking a cock makes me feel like a slut, and I like it." Her face flushed with shame again, not knowing that her response couldn't have made me happier.

I kept my face impassive. "So, slut, is this what you want?" I asked, reaching down and stroking the length of my cock as she helplessly watched.

Her response was unthinking, as I knew it would be. "Oh yes, Master, I want to suck your cock."

I let my face go dark and I looked at her sternly. My voice was full of steel when I said, "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."

The look on her face was priceless. Her eyes showed the realization of what just happened, followed by fear and what may happen next. "I'm sorry, Master," she said. I could tell she truly meant it.

I had goaded her into making a mistake on purpose. I had to find out if she was still willing to accept the consequences of her actions.

"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." I held my breath for the few seconds it took her to reply.

"Yes, Master," she said resignedly. I wanted to jump for joy, but I showed no emotion as I told her to get on the sofa on all fours, then to rest her weight on her elbows with her ass sticking up in the air.

I sternly told her that her punishment was to consist of five swats to her ass. I told her that during the punishment she should think about her role in our game, that my pleasure was her primary concern. I could hear her trying hard to control her breathing as her fear threatened to overtake her.

I spanked her with my open hand, two swats to her left ass cheek and three to the right. I swung fairly hard, meaning to cause a good sting, but she managed to keep silent through the first four swats. For the last swat, I laid into her a bit harder, and it caused her to jump and whimper slightly.

She looked back over her shoulder at me, and she looked so utterly perfect at that moment. The fear in her eyes was gone, now replaced by something akin to triumph at enduring her punishment. 

I had to suppress a smile when I asked her, "So, slave, what is your role in this game?"

Her reply couldn't have been better. "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." 

"Very good, slave," I praised her. I gently rubbed her ass cheeks with my hand to relieve the sting.

I couldn't wait any longer. I had to have her now. I had to have my cock buried deep in her pussy. I directed her to lie on her back on the sofa, and I told her that I was going to fuck her now. She did as she was told, and then she smiled up at me and spread her legs wider in invitation.

I stripped out of the remainder of my clothes, and I climbed on top of her. I rubbed the head of my cock over her pussy lips and her clit, and I was rewarded with a moan of pure lust from her. I kissed her hard, the I drew back and stared deep into her beautiful blue eyes.

In that second, I thrust forward, shoving my entire cock into her tight pussy. We both moaned loudly at the incredible fit. God, she was so fucking tight, and so fucking wet. I began pumping, and she was thrusting her hips to meet me in a perfect rhythm.

I fucked her hard for quite awhile, lost in the mind-blowing sensations. I was drawn out of my reverie when I heard Heather saying that she was going to come.

"Not yet, slave, not yet," I commanded her. I wanted to see if she would be able to hold out.

I ordered her to get back up on her hands and knees on the sofa, and I could tell by the look on her face that she thought she was going to be punished again. Instead, I jammed my cock into her sopping cunt from behind.

She was moaning wildly now, and it was obvious that she was valiantly struggling not to come. Soon, she was crying out with the effort.

I was nearing climax as well. Having her pussy surrounding my cock as I thrust in and out of her was sheer bliss. Hearing her cries of distress as she fought against her own orgasm was even more arousing, and I could feel my body threatening to take me over the edge.

Finally, I told her, "Now, slave! I want to feel your cum pouring over my cock. Come for your Master now!"

And just like that, she did. She went off like a rocket. She screamed out her pleasure, and her pussy began to contract even more tightly around my cock. Her body trembled like an earthquake, and that was more than I could take.

My own orgasm poured over me, and I shot what felt like a huge load of cum into Heather's still-spasming pussy. My head spun like a top, and the force of sensations actually made me dizzy. 

We both collapsed forward onto the sofa, and I crawled up next to her and put my arm around her protectively. She was the first to speak, and her words brought joy to my heart. "Thank you, Master. Your slave is grateful to you."

I expressed my pleasure with her performance. Her face lit up with happiness as I told her that she was doing extremely well, and that I thought she was a natural submissive. She told me that she hoped that she could continue serving me, and I asserted that that was what I wanted as well.

And that was the end of our first night together as Master and slave. I wanted nothing more than to play with her all night long, but it was already after midnight and I had to get up very early in the morning. I told her that she could leave if she wished and that I would be in touch, or that she could stay.

She stayed that night, and she has been with me ever since, submitting to me, loving me.

**********

Heather threw herself into her new life with complete abandon. The very next day she returned to her parent's home and informed them that she was moving out. She collected her clothing and a few personal items. Her parents were extremely upset, as expected, and they launched a campaign to bring her home.

She turned them away completely and coldly at every turn. She had no intention of returning home, but it wasn't until after she visited them wearing my collar that they realized that she was lost to them forever. Only her brother supported her and wished her well. Her parents disassociated themselves from her as though she had never existed at all. Heather never looked back with regret.

I placed my collar around her neck about two months after we had been together, officially claiming her as my own and becoming her one and only Master. She has been completely loyal to me from day one, and I couldn't be more pleased with her progress as a submissive.

She has learned so much in the time we have been together. Many of her limits have expanded, and some have been destroyed altogether. As her trust in me grew, so did her adventurous spirit. 

We started out slowly, beginning with simple things like blindfolds, gags, and some bondage. I learned that she enjoyed being sightless and bound, but that she truly detested being gagged. It made little difference to me, not something I had to do, so eventually gagging was used only as a form of punishment.

One of her initial limits was her resistance at being with another woman. Early on I could tell that she was only closed to the idea because of her upbringing, the notion that there was something "wrong" with it.

Gradually, through many conversations and role-playing, she came to accept that it was not wrong and it was actually became an appealing prospect. About six months after we began our game, she had her first bisexual experience with the lovely Miranda.

At my direction, she ate Miranda's pussy, and she found it to be a most thrilling experience. I rewarded her by allowing her to come whenever she pleased for the rest of the night, and she did so many times. We enjoyed many pleasures that night, just the three of us.

One thing that did not happen that night was me fucking Miranda in front of Heather, which I had originally intended to do. I could sense some jealousy coming from Heather when I paid any attention to Miranda, and I decided not to push that issue just then. There would be plenty of time for that once Heather came to realize that my love for her would not change if I fucked another woman, and that by suppressing her jealousy she would be submitting to me in a new form.

Another of Heather's more difficult early limits was anal sex. I don't think she necessarily thought it was wrong, more that she was afraid that it would be too painful. I patiently chipped away at her fear, bit by bit. Often, I would direct her to masturbate for me, and I would have her stick one of her fingers into her ass. Then it was two fingers. Then I progressed to the point where during sex, I would finger her ass, and soon she began to relax and enjoy the sensations.

I brought her home a butt plug one day, and she bravely accepted it into her ass. For several weeks I made her wear it for increasingly longer periods of time, getting her used to the intrusive feeling and stretching her ass in preparation for my cock. I was slow and methodical in getting her ready, and I was proud of her willingness to take each new step.

Finally, the night arrived when I planned to fuck her ass, something I had been dying to do since the first time I saw her beautiful bottom. I will never forget how sweet and thrilling the experience was, not just for me, but for her as well.

I came home that evening, and as usual Heather was waiting for me. She was kneeling on a small pillow, totally nude, with her hands clasped behind her back and her legs spread. Her eyes were downcast out of respect as she'd been taught.

I caressed her silky hair and said, "Good evening, slave. Are you well?" 

At that point she was released to look at me and to speak. "Good evening, Master. Your slave is well and I have missed you so much."

"I am glad to hear that, my dear slave. Tonight I have something special planned for us, and you'll have the opportunity to show me just how much you've missed me."

"Just tell me how I may please you, Master, and I will happily serve you," she replied, her bright eyes shining with lust and joy.

"Very good, my precious slut. You will go into the bedroom, and get onto the bed on all fours. Wait for your Master to join you," I told her.

She rose from her kneeling position and went into the bedroom as instructed. I stripped out of my clothes, leaving them in the living room to be picked up later. My cock was already rock hard, as it had been off and on all day as I thought about the night to come.

I entered our bedroom, and Heather was waiting. She was on the bed on her hands and knees, exactly as instructed. Her lovely rounded ass awaited me, still holding the butt plug that I had placed there that morning. 

I went to her, and I gently removed the plug from her asshole. She groaned slightly, but I recognized the sound as one of pleasure, not of pain. I climbed onto the bed behind her, and I lovingly caressed her ass. Leaning down, I licked the crack of her ass from her pussy to her perfect round asshole. She moaned and squirmed with pleasure.

I began tonguing her asshole, then making my tongue go rigid I slipped it inside her tight backdoor. I fucked her ass with my tongue, and she immediately responded by grinding her hips backwards to meet it. "Don't move, slut," I commanded, "keep completely still."

She complied, ceasing all movement and allowing me to do as I pleased. I continued working her asshole with my rigid tongue until I could hear her gasping with pleasure. 

I got up off the bed, and I went to our "toy chest," a simple cedar chest containing all the implements of our D/s lifestyle. I took out a simple leather blindfold, and a tube of lubrication.

Returning to the bed, I slipped the blindfold over her eyes. The blindfold was meant to remove other distractions and to heighten her sensations. I whispered into her ear, "Relax, my darling slut, no matter what happens, just relax."

I climbed back onto the bed behind her on my knees. I rubbed some of the lube over my cock, and with my finger I smeared some of it around the entrance to her ass. I could hear her breathing heavily, and I think she knew from my attentions what was going to happen.

I began rubbing my cock-head against her asshole, teasing it. Oh so slowly, I slipped the head of my cock into her ass. I could feel her ass clenching, involuntarily fighting against the intrusion. I expected this.

Reaching around in front of her, I began slowly fingering her clit. She gasped, and I softly said to her, "You may move now as you wish, but do not attempt to move away from me or to get up. Do you understand?"

"Yesss, Master," she responded. 

I did not make any effort to push my cock deeper into her ass. That was going to be her job. As I fingered her clit faster and faster, she began gently thrusting her hips trying to increase the delicious friction she was feeling. As her hips moved, the result was that she was moving my cock in deeper herself.

I kept working on the hard little nub of her clit, and soon my fingers were saturated with the juices from her pussy. She was so intent on fucking my fingers, she scarcely noticed my cock imbedded in her tight ass. It wasn't long before the entire length of my rod was buried in her virgin ass.

Very gently I began moving my hips in time with hers, sliding my cock in and out of her ass, stretching her to accommodate me. "How does it feel, slave? How does my cock feel in your ass?"

"Oh my god, Master, it actually feels good. All this time I've been so afraid that it would hurt, and instead it feels sooo good!"

I started thrusting harder, and at the same time I began pinching her clit between my thumb and forefinger, which always drives her crazy. Feeling my cock sliding in and out of her tight ass was one of the best feelings I've ever had. Pure heaven.

Soon she was moaning like an animal, and she cried out, "Oh Master, I'm going to come! Please let your slave come for you! Oh, pleeeease..."

"Yes, my dear slave, you may come," I replied, wanting to reward her for facing this particular fear.

I fucked her ass harder as she climaxed wildly, bucking against my hand and causing more friction on my cock. A few moments later, I followed suit, ejaculating my first load ever into her beautiful ass.

It was so wonderful. Now, her fear is completely gone, and she often gets off with my cock buried in her ass with no other stimulation. She has grown so much, and her trust of me has grown as well.

Every day with her is a new adventure, and she faces each one bravely. She derives so much satisfaction from pleasing me, more than I ever thought possible. There is no longer any hint of her former life as a princess, no more haughtiness or air of superiority. Instead, she is my sweet, obedient plaything.

We have so many new things yet to discover together, and I can only hope that each new thing continues to bring us closer together.



Former Princess



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.




Former Princess



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.