7 comments/ 29839 views/ 4 favorites Braxton By: double_entendre Disclaimer: This material is intended for an adult audience. All characters and situations described in this story are fictitious in nature. The individuals portrayed in this reading are presumed to be of legal age to engage in sexual activity. It was the start of my fifth year at Braxton High School; to say I was nervous would have been the biggest understatement of all time. My name is Johnny Canton, and before anyone asks, no I was not held back, in fact up to this point I have a perfect 4.0 GPA. I fear that is all about to change; however, and if you think that is the reason I am apprehensive, then you don't even know the half of it. For you to truly appreciate the gravity of my situation, I must take you back a few years to when it all began, at least for me anyhow. I grew up in a small town in Ohio, which most people have likely never heard of, and probably never will. My parents although being relatively smart, never progressed beyond the standard bachelor's degree required by most employers to hold a decent paying job. I on the other hand seemed to possess a somewhat higher level of intelligence. People would use the term gifted in their assessment of my capabilities. I am not saying this to brag mind you; it is just the way things were. School work was very easy for me and as such there were many times when I would become bored watching my teachers struggle to explain abstract theories and concepts to other students which I have grasped for years. I loved to learn, but the problem was I wasn't doing much of it in school. Unlike some other "talented" individuals, I was astute enough not to let my boredom distract me from making solid marks in my classes. I knew that one day things would change for me and I didn't want to have any sub-par grades holding me back when that time occurred. It was near the end of my 8th grade year when Mr. Stevens, one of my teachers, took it upon himself to submit my test scores to Braxton, which led to Mr. Turner showing up on my doorstep in the middle of summer vacation. I was told to go outside and shoot some hoops as my parents wanted to speak with Mr. Turner privately. I started to argue that this was about my future, and I had a right to be a part of their discussion, but one look at my mom's face told me I had better do as I was told. When I left the room to get my basketball I also grabbed my digital recorder off of my desk. I may had been banished from their discussion, but I be damned if I was going to miss one minute of that conversation. "Mr. Turner, I must admit that I was rather intrigued when we first spoke about the scholarship you were offering Johnny, but after doing some research on Braxton I am very apprehensive to let him attend there," My mother spoke. "I can't imagine why you would feel that way Mrs. Canton. I thought I explained that in addition to all expenses being covered for the entire five year program, young Johnny would almost certainly be guaranteed admittance in any one of the Ivy League colleges he applies to upon graduation from Braxton. This is a golden opportunity for him," Mr. Turner replied. "I understand all of that, and the research I did on Braxton after we talked confirmed the statistics you quoted me over the phone. The one thing you failed to mention is the unorthodox sexual education program that every student is required to partake in," My mother said. "I was waiting to discuss that aspect with you in person. It is a well-known fact that Braxton requires a full year of extensive sexual education in order to graduate. We are very proud of our academic program and I was by no means trying to hide this from you," Mr. Turner replied. "I've been told that their program goes way beyond what is normally taught in most schools systems," She challenged. "Everything at Braxton is way beyond what most high schools teach. That is why over 85% of our students get admitted to an Ivy League college upon graduation. Braxton is a completely privately funded school Mrs. Canton. We are not subject to the same limitations as the ones who are government subsidize. I feel like we are getting off on the wrong foot here. Please, let me try and explain the origin of Braxton and some of the principals that go along with it," He asked? "Alright, Mr. Turner we're listening," My dad finally spoke. "Braxton is a private all boys preparatory high school. It was founded about 50 years ago by a group of widowed school teachers who all managed to marry rich successful men who left them vast fortunes upon their deaths. These ladies were fed up with the public school system and felt that they could run one much better than the bureaucrats who sit in their cushy offices and make imprudent decisions that undermine teacher effectiveness rendering it difficult for students to succeed. The founders of Braxton came together and developed a program that they felt would put a student on the right path to achieving a successful career. These women geared their program towards the Ivy League colleges, with the intention of matriculating their students in one of them upon their graduation. The idea was to accept only the brightest students into Braxton, that way advanced classes could be taught without anyone falling behind. The first decade of Braxton's existence did not go as planned. Braxton graduates were smart, but they just weren't up to Ivy League standers. After examining the matter it was determined that the one thing Braxton boys lacked was confidence. When the ladies started to discuss this problem over cocktails one evening, they began to confess that some of their former husbands once suffered the same issues. After a few more drinks were consumed they were able to candidly discuss their husbands' confidence problems and how many of them were actually solved in the bedroom. It is just a fact of life that many men gain confidence by being able to handle themselves in sexual situations. After conducting further research on the subject, the ladies were more convinced than ever that they had stumbled upon a key prerequisite for success that they had previously overlooked. It was later decided that Braxton would expand their graduate program to five years, thereby ensuring that each student would be of legal age to take part in a now mandatory full year class on extended sexual education," Mr. Turner explained. "Just how in depth is this sex course that you want to teach my son," Mrs. Canton asked? "It is very extensive. We of course start off with the basics, but then we quickly move into administration of pleasure and how to satisfy your partner. We bring in professional women to teach various methods and techniques both in the classroom and on a one to one basis," He said. "You mean to tell me that you want to have hookers deflower my son," Mrs. Canton asked in horror? "These ladies are professionally licensed therapists, not streetwalkers. If you're asking if Johnny will be a virgin when he graduates from Braxton then the answer is no, he will not," Mr. Turner replied. "Well I think we have heard quite enough. Braxton does not sound like a place that I want my Johnny attending," My mother said. "Mr. and Mrs. Turner, I urge you to reconsider. This truly is a once in a lifetime opportunity for your son. He is a very intelligent young man, and although it is conceivable that he may get accepted to an Ivy League College on his own, living in this small town makes it that much more difficult for him to do so. You are throwing away a golden opportunity for him based upon his requirement to have sex when he turns 18 years old; which is something he will most likely be doing on his own by that time anyway. There are thousands of people out there who would do just about anything for the deal I am prepared to offer your son. Please, don't let this one little requirement force you to pass up the chance to help Johnny get an Ivy League education. Your son may never forgive you if you do," Mr. Turner warned them. "I don't care what you say, I am not going to sacrifice my son's virtue just to he can obtain enrollment in an Ivy League college," Mrs. Canton said in a huff as she stormed off to her bedroom. "Mr. Canton, I did not mean to upset your wife, but before the two of you pass up this golden opportunity I suggest that you at least talk to your son and see what his feelings are regarding the matter. This is a very exclusive scholarship, which is rarely ever offered. I understand your wife's concerns, but Johnny is going to grow up regardless of whether she wants him to or not. I would hate to see him blow this chance," Mr. Turner said. "Here is my card. I will be in the area for the next few days. Please talk with your wife and son, and then get back to me with your final decision," He asked? "Thank you Mr. Turner. What you're proposing did come as a bit of a shock, but I must concede that getting Johnny admitted in an Ivy League school is a very tempting offer. I assure you that we will be discussing this as a family, regardless of what my wife thinks, and I promise to get back to you with our decision in a few days," my father said. "Thank you Mr. Canton and I hope to hear from you soon," Mr. Turner said shaking my father's hand before he left. "Johnny would you come in here a minute please," My dad asked? "Sure Dad, what's up," I asked. "Son I want you to take that tape recorder that you left over there and go listen to it. When you are finished, I need you to meet your mother and I back out here in the living room so we can discuss this matter with you," He said to my utter shock. "You saw me? Gosh, Dad I am sorry. I know it was childish to spy on you like that, but I just had to know what this was all about," I admitted fearing the worst. "No son you have a right know about this. You are not a little boy anymore and your mother should not have made you leave the room while we were discussing your future. You may not have gone about it in the right way, but at least now I don't have to explain to you all that was said because you can just listen to it yourself. Now go and play your tape, and let me have a little talk with your mother. I have a feeling that this is going to be a very long day," Dad said. After listening to the recording my mind was a jumbled mess of confusion, excitement, anxiety and fear all rolled up into one. I have to admit that on some level I was glad that Mom had banished me outside, as I could not imagine facing my Mother while Mr. Turner was explaining the Sex Ed requirements to her. At this point, I didn't know what to think. The promise of guaranteed pussy was alluring as well as terrifying. The thought that I would have to spend an additional year in high school was a real bummer. I had been planning on opting for early graduation, now they wanted me to stay there a year longer before starting college. The fact that they were practically insuring that I would be accepted to an Ivy League school did go a long way towards making their offer very tempting in light of the extra time it would take to graduate. I dreaded talking to my parents about this. I knew what my Mom was going to say, but I had no idea where my Dad stood on the subject, and after listening to their conversation I was still unsure how I felt about the whole thing. Mom and Dad always preached that when I had a difficult choice to make I should try and create a pros and cons list to help me decide. I grabbed a few sheets of paper and a pen and headed into the living room to meet my fate. As I sat down with paper and a pen in hand, my mother turned to my father and said, "I don't know why we're even bothering to discuss this Harold. I will not allow my son to go there and that's final," she stated. "First of all Marge, he is my son as well, and I have at least equal say in the matter. Now, I plan to sit here and calmly discuss this opportunity with Johnny, and if you can't do the same thing, then perhaps you should be the one outside shooting hoops," My dad suggested. "How dare you speak to me that way Harold Canton and in front of my own child no less," My mother exclaimed! "You have spoken far worse things to me over the years, and you didn't give a damn who was listening to you at the time either. I let you get away with a lot of shit over the years Marge, but the one thing I won't let you do is ruin our son's chances of getting into an Ivy League college, just because you can't stand to watch him grow up," Dad said. "So you would let some hooker fornicate with your own son," She asked in horror? "You heard Mr. Turner; they are licensed professionals, not whores off the street. We use instructors to teach our children about everything else, why are we unwilling to do the same thing when it comes to sex," My father asked? "You can sugarcoat this all you want Harold, but the fact is that they want to force Johnny to sleep with some prostitute, and I will not allow that to happen. As far as I'm concern this discussion is over," His mother stated in a huff as she started to get up from her chair. "Marge, I already told you that you are not making this decision by yourself. You can leave now if you wish, but by doing so you forfeit your right to voice your opinion in this matter," My dad told her. "I have already stated my feelings, and if I say he is not going, then he won't go, period," She yelled. "Wrong Marge, this is an important decision, and Johnny is old enough to have a say in this issue. We are going to sit down and discuss this like adults, and after that we are going to put this matter to a majority rules vote," Dad said. Seeing that she wasn't going to get her way with Dad, like she usually does, Mom turned to me and said, "Johnny, honey; you have no idea what that awful man said you had to do in order to graduate from that place," She said in her sweetest voice. "Actually Mom, I do. I recorded your conversation with him, and listened to it in my room before I came out here to talk to you," I admitted. "Jonathan Canton, how dare you spy on your father and me! I am very disappointed in you right now. You go to your room this instant young man," My mother demanded. "No Mom I won't. I am sorry, but you left me no choice when you banished me outside while the three of you discussed my future without me. I want to talk to the both of you about this, but I can't do it when you are being so irrational. Please, calm down so we can discuss this like adults," I asked? "You can talk about this until you are blue in the face, but you are not going to that school, no matter what you or your father thinks," Mom replied as she stomped off. "Dad, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset mom like that," I said. "You didn't upset her son; the fact that she didn't instantly get her way, for once, did that. Despite what your mother thinks, I happen to know that only one parent's signature is required for the application process. Now convince me, why should I send you to Braxton," Dad asked? "Honestly Dad, at this point I don't even know if I want to go there. I brought out this paper in hopes that you and Mom could help me create a pros and cons list. Since Mom refuses to talk about this with us, will you help me," I asked? So for the next couple of hours my Dad and I compiled a list of the reasons why I should either accept Mr. Turner's invitation to join Braxton, or decline his offer, as my mother would have me do. After weighing all of the options, including my mom's feelings on the subject, we still felt that by turning down Braxton I would be giving up an opportunity of a lifetime. I finally looked at my father and told him I thought he should send me to Braxton. "It's nice to get your opinion on what you think I should do, but what I would really like to know son is do you want to go to Braxton," He asked? "Yes Dad, I believe I really do. I have always dreamed about going to Harvard. Braxton sounds like a means of achieving that dream," I said. "What about the sex education class? Do you really think you can handle it," He asked? "I won't lie and tell you I'm not a nervous wreck about that part of it, because I am. If I live long enough I will surly have sex at some point in my life. At least this way it will be in a controlled environment, where I won't have to worry about diseases, or the possibility of getting some girl pregnant," I said. "That is a very responsible way of looking at this situation. Mr. Turner made it clear that it is extremely rare for someone to earn a full ride scholarship to Braxton. I am very proud of you for achieving such a high honor, and I don't think that your mother or I should hold you back from experiencing everything that you can in life; therefore, I have decided to sign the papers to let you go to Braxton," He said. Mom was extremely pissed with our decision, and refused to speak to either one of us until about a week before it was time for me to leave for my new home for the next five years. I was in my room still trying to sort out what all I should take with me when there was a knock on my door. "Johnny, may I come in and talk to you for a moment," My mother asked? Bracing myself for another argument I replied "Sure Mom, come on in," I said. "Honey, I have come to apologize," She said nearly knocking me off of my feet. "I have recently been talking with your father, and he has helped me to realize that I have been treating the two of you like children for years now. I have finally come to terms with the fact that you are not my little boy anymore, and your father never was in the first place. Your dad never cared much for confrontations, and knowing that I took advantage of him by demanding that things always be done my way. I guess that I just wasn't prepared for the two of you to stand up to me like you did. I should have sat down and talked with you both about my concerns regarding you going to Braxton, but instead I acted like a child and stormed out of the room. I want you to know that although I still have reservations about you going to Braxton, I respect you and your father's decision, and I know that you will make both of us very proud," She finished. "Wow Mom! I'm not sure what to say. I have really hated not being on speaking terms with you these past few weeks. I know that you are concerned about the sex education class that I have to take, and to be quite honest I am worried about it as well. Dad and I have discussed this from every angle, and the one thing that we keep coming back to is that I have always wanted to go to Harvard, and this seems like my only real shot at getting there. I don't want you to be mad at me, but if I don't take this opportunity I will always be wondering what might have been," I replied. "I understand that dear, and although I can't honestly say that I am happy about it, I will no longer stand in your way," My mother replied. So it was settled. The following week I boarded my very first jet plane that would take me away from my meager little existence and into a new and somewhat scary way of life. Even before the plane left the ground I was having second thoughts. Would I like this new school? Could I handle being away from my parents for so long of time? What would my dorm mate be like? Will this really help me get into Harvard? How could I possibly be expected to have sex with someone I didn't even know? Of all the questions rolling around in my head, this one bothered me the most. Of course at the age of fourteen I had done my share of reading about the subject. I knew all of the mechanics "insert tab A into slot B", but the thought of actually doing it was utterly terrifying. My first few weeks at Braxton were like nothing I had ever experienced before. My roommate Brad was alright, I guess, but having to share a room with a guy I barely knew was really tough to get used to. At least, when I lived at home I could go to my room and have some semblance of privacy. Now everything I did, or wanted to do was being monitored by another person. Even the bathroom was community property. I couldn't shave, shower, or even take a dump without having someone else in the room with me. Braxton The outlook at Braxton was something else I found rather unusual. We were taught that Braxton was like some form of fraternity, and we were all a member of a sacred brotherhood. Braxton men watched out for one another. We were encouraged to support our fellow brothers, and were told that they in turn would help us out. Braxton kept a list of its alumni who held powerful positions throughout the world. These people have pledged to assist us in obtaining employment, meeting the proper contacts, and steering us in the right direction for our future success. In addition of promising to help fellow Braxton brothers, we were encouraged to donate substantial amounts of money back to the school when, not if, we became able to do so. To merely obtain financial security was not enough to be considered a success at Braxton. A person would have to be earning millions or better before their picture would be displayed on the wall of financial achievement. Classes at Braxton were another matter entirely. I thought that I had worked hard in public school, but I quickly learned that my previous efforts had been a joke compared to this. At Braxton A's and B's were considered passing, anything below that meant that you failed. I really struggled my first semester, but in the end I managed to pull all my grades up to an A. Soon after they were posted, I received a notice saying that the dean wanted to see me. I thought he was going to congratulate me on getting all A's my first semester; boy was I mistaken! "Mr. Canton, it has come to my attention that you were not doing all that well in some of your classes until the very end where you barely managed to pull your grades back up to acceptable levels." Dean Merit said. "Sir, it is true that I had a little trouble adjusting to life here at Braxton, but I did score all A's on my report card," I replied. "Yes, and you did so just by the skin of your teeth or so I am told. You came to this school on a full scholarship program, and as such you are held to a higher standard than the rest of our students. We only award a couple of those scholarships ever few years. I would hate to think that we made a mistake in choosing you as the beneficiary of our generosity," He said. "Sir, I am sorry that it took me so long to get acclimated with some of the procedures here at Braxton, but I can assure you that I will do whatever it takes to keep up my grades and prove to you that you made the right choice by allowing me to attend this fine institution," I pleaded. "Well seeing that this is your first semester here, and the fact that you managed to pull your grades back up before it ended, I won't be putting you on academic probation, this time. I will; however, be closely monitoring your performance in the future. Now, if you'll excuse me I have other matters that I must attend to," He said dismissing me like I wasn't worth another second of his valuable time. Exiting his office I felt like I had just stepped out of a twisted episode of the Twilight Zone. I couldn't believe the gull of this guy! I manage to pull off straight A's on my very first semester here, and he treats me like I was an embarrassment to his precious scholarship program. I felt like telling the asshole to go fuck himself and head back to Ohio, where at least I had been appreciated. Once I finally simmered down a bit I realized that the best way to get even with the son of a bitch was to make this guy eat his words. I decided that instead of quitting I would buckle down and try harder. I was now more determined than ever to show this school and everybody in it just what Johnny Canton could really do. The next few years at Braxton were some of the most challenging of my young life. This place was definitely not designed for the average student, and it taxed even the brightest of pupils. I saw many of my fellow classmates fold under the immense pressure that we were continually being subjected to. Amazingly enough I somehow managed to persevere many times at the expense of sleep, a proper diet, or any form of a social life. I had now completed my fourth year here at Braxton, and was finally headed back home for a much needed rest. Had I attended any other high school I would be graduating by now, but since I was at Braxton I still had another year to go before that would happen. It sucked to know that some of my former classmates would be starting college in the fall, and I was stuck going through another year of Braxton's version of hell, which is how I have come to think of it, at least in private that is. "So honey, how are your classes going," My mother asked? "There doing just fine Mom. So far I have managed to get nothing but A's in all of my classes," I replied. "That's wonderful dear, but aren't you scheduled to take that awful sex education course next semester," She asked? "Yes, I will be starting that class in the fall," I answered. "Johnny, couldn't you try applying to Harvard now, instead of waiting another year? Maybe since your grades as good as they are you would be accepted anyway, without having to take a fifth year of high school," She asked? "Mom, you and I both know that Harvard will never accept me without a high school diploma," I replied. "Well you could always take the GED this summer. With that and your transcripts from Braxton they might let you in," she suggested. "Mom, without a diploma from Braxton I don't have a prayer of being admitted into Harvard, but with one I have a real shot at earning a full ride scholarship there. I am going to have a hard enough time getting through this next year without having to worry about you being upset with me all over again," I said. "I know you're under a lot of pressure honey, and I'm sorry for adding to it. I just hate the thought of your first time being with some prostitute, instead of your wife, or at least someone that you are in love with," She replied remorsefully. "I know mom, and I am more than a bit apprehensive about that as well. Would it surprise you to know that I am also looking forward to it, at least to some extent," I asked? "Actually Johnny, being an 18 year old male it would shock me if you weren't. I just hate the thought of them turning such a milestone event in your life into a classroom project," my mother said. "Well if you insist, I guess I could head on over to the mall and comb for chicks. If I play my cards right, I might get lucky before I even have to return to Braxton," I said fully expecting the slap upside the head that my mother always gave me when I got one over on her. Mom didn't disappoint me as she got me really good right on what has obviously been her favorite spot. "Gee I really missed your loving displays of affection," I said ducking yet another blow from my laughing mother. Summer seemed to fly by, and with it all my fears and anxieties came bubbling towards the surface. The closer it came to me having to return to Braxton the more apprehensive I became. If the thought of having to take advanced sexual education was not terrifying enough, I also had to enroll in all of the social classes that up to this point I'd managed to avoid. My classes this semester would include deals made on the golf course, the business end of sports, mingling for contracts, the art of concentration, and of course advanced sexual education. Why I had to take these classes was still a mystery, but seeing as they were all required I really didn't have any choice in the matter. On my first day back after summer vacation I received a piece of good news that took a bit of worry off of my mind. No, I wasn't going to be able to get out of my sexual education course, but I did learn that my sports related classes were graded on a pass/fail basis. This was to help maintain our GPA status for college admission, but it did not mean that our social classes were a pushover, a fact which was emphasized when we were told these classes were equally, if not even more important than any of the previous ones we had taken. I was taught that more multi-million dollar deals were negotiated on the golf course than ever were in someone's office. My business end of sports class taught us that when we find something in common with our clients it helps create a personal connection that can be used to build relationships that will likely bring greater profit margins to whatever business venture we might be perusing. We were forced to not only learn the basic fundamentals of baseball, basketball, football, hockey, and car racing, but we also had to be able to name athletes and the stats of both their top and current players. My instructor told us that regardless of how we felt concerning any given sport, our job was to convince clients we loved it as much as any over the top fan ever did. Unless I someday develop Alzheimer's disease, or a total case of amnesia I will never forget my art of concentration class as long as I live. The course was designed to help us learn to focus in the midst of a multitude of distractions. One day we would go in and there would be music blaring in the background, the next day there would be five separate televisions going, all on different channels, and each one turned up so loud that the professor had to practically scream over them to be heard. We came to class one morning to find the room decorated like one of the strip joints you see in the movies. Sure enough as Professor Moore started his lecture a group of three women that I had never seen before showed up in scantily clad clothing, and started dancing around the tall poles they had stationed on their makeshift stage. I couldn't believe it when these women actually began striping off their clothing right in front of us. Up until this point, I had only ever seen a naked woman on television and of course my computer screen. I nearly had a heart attack when one of their pairs of panties, came flying through the air and landed right on top on my desk. Needless to say, it was a very hard class that day, pun intended. It was in the middle of my fifth year at Braxton, when my advanced sexual education class really started living up to its name. I remember coming to class one afternoon to find that the strippers I had previously seen performing in my concentration class were borrowed from the Sex Ed. program. Up to this point, we had probably only learned what most public high schools would have normally taught regarding health and sexual education. I had a strange feeling that was all about to change. The first thing I noticed as I walked through the door was that the room had been rearranged to accommodate three full sized rollaway beds that were now centered where the professors Briton's desk usually sat. As class began the three ladies introduced themselves as Helga, Jasmine, and Veronica. Professor Briton then took over saying that since some of us had already gotten a sneak peak during our focus class, we would now all be shown the various parts of the female body first hand. Taking their cue, the three women stood up and once more began to strip; only this time their actions were not accompanied by seductive music and provocative dance moves. Once the ladies were clothing free, we were all given 5 minutes a piece with each of the women to explore the various differences and similarities that they all shared. Afterword's we would be assigned to write a ten page paper to be handed in the following day discussing our findings and what either attracted or repulsed us about them. We were encouraged to use as many as our five senses as possible in our examinations. Even now, so many years later, I can't even begin to describe what it felt like for a horny 18 year old boy to be given an assignment such as this. As I tried to steady my shaking hands I found that I was so nervous I literally had to concentrate on exactly what my five senses actually were. Let's see, there is sight, sound, touch, smell and what was the last one? Oh Shit now I remember, it was taste. Wanting to get a good grade on this assignment, I followed Professor Briton's instructions to the letter, as I attempted to memorize every aspect of each of their bodies. In addition to inquiring about the standard height, weight age, hair color, shoe, bra and other clothing sizes, I also looked for abnormalities, piercings and scars. I even asked about their brand of perfume and what type of soap they used. I requested that they each repeat a catch phrase so that I could compare the different tones of their voices. There were gasps of shock throughout the room when I knelt down and started to sniff and subsequently lick my subjects. The rest of the class thought that I had gone too far in my examination, but the professor just smiled and reminded them that he did say we were to use all of our five senses, and taste was definitely one of them. After that, some but not all, of the other boys followed suit in my demonstration of cunnilingus, but I did feel some semblance of pride at knowing that I was the first to try it. Five minutes was not nearly enough time to explore all of the mysteries of the female body, and as it turned out 10 pages barely seemed to scratch the surface of what I had learned. I could have easily written ten pages a piece on each of the three women and still not had enough space to properly convey what I had discovered about them. Our Friday class the following afternoon was rather anticlimactic as our three nude models were MIA. We were assured that they would return on Monday with our corrected essays. I was shocked and a bit embarrassed to learn that the ladies and not our professor would be the ones to grade this assignment. As excited as I was to get to my Sex Ed. class Monday afternoon, I would have surly skipped it if I had known what all it entailed. Since several of the students had trouble accurately describing the various aspects of the female body beyond that of which was obvious, the ladies decided that a demonstration of what we should have been looking for during this exercise was in order. Upon the return of our essays I was relieved to discover that I had scored the highest in the class. That feeling was short lived when because of my high grade I was asked to assist the ladies in their tutorial. Knowing that refusal was not an option, I was directed to stand near one of the beds while Jasmine once again stripped off her clothes to lay naked on top of the rollaway. I was then told to reexamine her body, describing to the class the methods I had used to generate my assessments. I had to relate how I sniffed, squeezed, touched, licked, and generally fondled each of the three ladies in order to determine their unique differences. If that wasn't embarrassing enough on its own accord, Jasmine decided to put me through the ultimate torcher when she asked if I would be willing to trade places with her so that she could explain to the class the various characteristics of the male body. Although I was told that I didn't have to do it at this time, I was informed that we would all be required to strip at some point or another if we intended to pass the class, so it was really pointless to be bashful about doing so. Being the most red faced than I have ever been in my life, I slowly began to peel away my layers of clothing until all that was left concealing my modesty was a single pair of white briefs with a noticeable bulge in the front. Turning away from the class I reluctantly lowered my underpants, carefully stepping out of them as to avoid stumbling and further intensifying my shame. With my head hung forward I gently sat in the middle of the bed before bringing my legs up and laying my head flat against the pillow keeping my eyes closed from embarrassment the entire time as if that would somehow shield me from this humiliating experience. As I laid there with my blood alternating routes between my face to my engorged penis, I was subjected to the same type of examination that I had previously performed on Jasmine. I think she managed to describe every molecule of my body, even going as far as borrowing a ruler from Professor Briton and using it to measure my dick. I did feel a minuscule amount of pride when she informed the class that I was larger than average in that area, if only by an inch or so. When Jasmine decided to start her little taste tests on me I nearly went off right there in class. I will have to say that she was at least kind enough not to further humiliate me in front of the rest of my peers by causing me to prematurely ejaculate. When the class finally came to an end Jasmine asked me to stay after so that we could discuss my essay in further detail. I was told to just remain where I was until everyone was gone. After the last guy finally left the room Jasmine knelt down and slowly took me inside her burning mouth, giving me my first and arguably best blowjob of my life. It felt like I shot a gallon of cum down her long slender throat, but she had me spit shine clean and ready for my next class within minutes of my eruption. She said that she didn't have the heart to leave me in the state that I was in and that was my reward for being so brave and doing so well on my essay. From that day on, class was a mixture of sexual demonstrations and human psychology. We were taught seduction techniques, positions, massage theory, and how to read body language to determine what our partner most desired from us. We were also shown various sex toys and the most effective ways of using them. My instructor was not lying when he said that all of us would be required to strip if we wanted to pass the class. Since I had been the first to do so, I got the unique privilege of being able to sit back and enjoy watching everyone else be reduced to a quivering mass of utter embarrassment. My reprieve was short lived; however, because when it came time to demonstrate the physical act of intercourse, guess who was chosen as the Ginny Pig to go first? Even today, so many years later it is still hard to express into mere words the infinite summation of excitement, fear, lust, and anxiety that I experienced that faithful Tuesday afternoon. I had a hunch that my time was coming and naturally I did my best to try and be prepared for it. Everyday I made a habit of ducking into the bathroom stalls to relieve myself before going to my lecture. In my art of concentration class I had been studying meditation as a method of tuning out distractions around me allowing my full attention to be directed towards whatever task I was trying to accomplish. When my moment of truth finally arrived I discovered that by reversing this procedure I could permit my mind to wander away from what I was doing at the time, thereby reducing my level of excitement, and allowing me to delay my ejaculation long enough to be able to impress not only my current lover, but my peers and professor as well. Although my plan worked to some degree, the intense feeling of sliding my rock hard blood engorged cock through a tight warm wall of silky membranes fundamentally designed to ignite every nerve ending in my male body, made the postponement of my orgasm all the more difficult to delay. After each of us had been inducted into manhood, our class was then divided into two groups which would rotate between actually performing the various sex acts we were learning and discussing the ones that had yet to be attempted. We would critique each other's methods as we tried to discover new and better ways to please our partners. The goal of our professor was to attempt to instill a level of confidence in us about our abilities, without letting us get too cocky about them. It had long since been the belief of the founders of Braxton that if a man was secure in his performance in the bedroom, he was more likely to display a level of self-assurance in his daily life. They felt that this was a vital skill to possess when competing in the often times cutthroat world of business. Braxton As the school year slowly drew to a close, graduation day was finally within our midst. Every class that I was taking had some form of final examination, and I quickly discovered that my advanced sexual education class was going to be quite the challenge. We were each given a week to complete the assignment, and I was more than a bit concerned over its outcome. Our goal was seemingly simple. We would be required to make each of our three women instructors cum during sex. Thankfully this did not have to happen during intercourse. The main problem was that so far no one including myself had been able to give Veronica an orgasm. I felt pretty confident that I could push both Helga and Jasmine over the top, but Veronica was different. She was no doubt a sexy lady, but she never maintained eye contact with any of the guys she was with. I knew that to score an A on the final, I had to bring all three women to orgasm, so I started to really focus on Veronica. She never seemed to show any measurement of excitement when she was with any of the guys. We had all tried various positions, sex toys, and cunnilingus in hopes that something would at least give her some semblance of an arousal, but so far nothing has worked. Lady luck must have been smiling down upon me the week before finals, because as I was on my way to one of my professor's offices to return a book that I had borrowed, I overheard a pair of voices coming from one of the schools VIP suites they keep for visiting professors, and other distinguished guest. I recognized that one of the voices belonged to Veronica, and it didn't take a genius to figure out what she was doing, and more importantly whom she was doing it with. Tucking this little bit of insider information deep in my mind, I made sure during class to ask professor Briton about any set bounties that we had to stay within while completing our final. I wanted to make sure the entire class heard his answer as I had something a little out of the ordinary in mind. He said that as long as the lady didn't object, anything short of bringing in another student to help us would be acceptable. I had to struggle to hold back my smile, as this was the exact answer I was hoping to receive. When exam week finally arrived, I made sure to get Helga and then Jasmine out of the way first, before I had to tackle the problem of Veronica. Many of my classmates, and I'm sure even my professor thought that I was trying to delay my failure by postponing sex with Veronica. My real goal was to wait until the instrument I needed to complete my task was readily available for me to utilize. My final was the last one of the semester, and so far no one had been able to bring Veronica to an orgasm. I started out by giving her a sensual back massage and once she began to relax I described what I planned to do to her. "Veronica, I want to slowly lick my way down your body, starting with your neck and not stopping till I have sucked on each one of your sexy toes. I want to nibble on your breast and stick my tongue as far as it will go up your glistening pink pussy, all the while letting my long slender finger explore its way up your tight ass. I want to give you more pleasure than any woman has ever felt before. I want to do all of this for you, but alas I know that is not what you want, is it Veronica," I asked? Not waiting for an answer I went on to say, "I know what turns you on Veronica. It is not my lips, fingers, or tongue that you want. You prefer a pair of softer more feminine hands caressing your skin, licking your folds, and massaging your breast. Isn't that true Veronica," I asked. "Yes," She moaned. "Jasmine, would you be a dear, and help me out here? I am sure that with the both of us working together we can give our friend here the release that she so desperately needs," I asked? The entire classroom including all three of the ladies, sharply gasp at my request. "I'm afraid that is against the rules," My professor finally said. "I'm sorry to disagree with you professor, but when I asked you in class what the boundaries for this assignment were; your only restrictions were, that we could not use another student to help us out, and that our partner agree to what we wanted to do. When I asked Veronica if she would prefer someone more feminine touching her she answered favorably. All I am trying to do is give her what she most desires," I explained. "I know those were my instructions, but I never expected you to request to use one of the other ladies to assist you," Professor Briton replied. "That maybe the case professor, but it still doesn't change the fact that you already laid out your limitations for us, before we started our final, and asking another woman to help us was not one of them," I argued. To this day, I am not sure if it was my deliberation skills or the fact that the horny old goat wanted to see a threesome performed that made my professor give into my request that day. I know that every other pair of eyes in the room, were glued to what we were doing. In the end Veronica had her orgasm, actually all three of us did. I ended up fucking Veronica, while she was sucking out Jasmine's pussy, and at the same time, Jasmine was bent over licking Veronica's clit. Our climax was quite explosive, needless to say. After having successfully completed my final in Advanced Sexual Education I was feeling pretty confident as I strolled down the hall towards Professor Moore's Art of Concentration class. The final exam was scheduled for today, and I had been practicing my meditation techniques all week in preparation for it. I thought that I was ready for anything the professor could throw at me, but as it turned out the professor was not the cause of my distractions that day, or so I thought. I was on my way to class, when one of the school secretaries stopped me with an urgent message from home. It seemed that my parents had been involved in a horrible car accident, and were both in the hospital in critical condition. Their chance of survival did not look good. Naturally my first instinct was to get to a telephone and call the hospital myself. I was just about to take off towards the office when my professor stopped me and said it was time for class. I tried to explain to him what had happened, but he coldly informed me that I wouldn't be able to help my parents anyway, and I was due in class, for our final exam which was to be given that afternoon. After arguing with him for a bit he threatened that if I didn't come straight to class he would not give me a passing grade for the course and I would therefore forfeit the remainder of my scholarship to Braxton and be forced to leave this school without graduating. At this point, I felt like decking the son of a bitch, but I had worked so hard to get through this damn place, and if God forbid Mom and Dad didn't survive I would be forced to find a job, and that would not be an easy task to accomplish without at least a high school diploma to fall back on. Being madder than I have ever been in my life, I decided to suck it up and head into the classroom. My instructor was right about one thing, this was the hardest task we ever faced. The professor was reading from a script, and we were supposed to try and remember ever word that ended in the letter L. He read the script like an auctioneer would call out bids going faster and faster as time passed by. Our assignment was to remember each word in the order it was spoken and write them all on the answer sheet he handed out at the end of class. I used some meditation techniques I had been studying along with my memory recall capabilities that I had been honing to try and block my mind from what was happening with my parents and fully focused on the task of remembering the words for which he spoke. After we all handed our papers in Professor Moore stood up in class to make an announcement. "Attention everyone, some of you received some distressing news from home today just before entering this class. You can all stop worrying. The news was not real. I had the school secretary deliver these messages to you in an attempt to distract you from the assignment today. Yes, I know I am an asshole, well get over it. I am probably not the first one you have ever met, and you can be confident that I won't be the last. Oh, and by the way, if any of you are thinking about reporting me, don't waste your time. I have already spoken to Dean Merit, and I can assure you I had his full support in this matter," He said. I could not believe what I just heard. If I thought I was upset before my anger had now risen tenfold to what it had previously been. Not trusting myself to reframe from resorting to violence, I shot up from my chair, knocking my desk over in the process, and flew out the door, ignoring the calls from my professor to return to my seat. I went straight to the gym and for the next hour and a half took out my frustrations on a defenseless punching bag; all the while imagining it was my professor's face I was pummeling, instead of merely a lifeless sack of sand. I spent the entire weekend debating with myself whether or not I should quit Braxton, and take the GED exam like my mother wanted me to. I was certain that Professor Moore would flunk me for storming out of class Friday, and even if he didn't, would I really want to graduate from a school that allowed their instructors to do such despicable things to their students. In my mind, it was no different than pulling a fire alarm in a crowed building and watching everyone maul each other over in an attempt to be the first one out the door. What he did should be illegal and the little fucker should be sent to jail. My decision to stay was actually based on two separate events that occurred the following week. Our final grades were posted on Wednesday and as it turned out not only did Professor Moore give me a passing score, but I had actually received the A that I had worked so hard for allowing me to maintain my perfect 4.0 GPA for my entire five years that I have spent here at Braxton. The other incident that solidified my decision to remain at Braxton was that I had been granted an interview on Friday afternoon with Mr. Henson, who worked as a representative for Harvard University. He was coming here to meet with me. I was getting ready for my interview, when one of the school secretaries found me and said that Professor Moore asked to see me right away. I have to admit that I almost didn't go, but seeing as final grades had already been posted, the chance to finally be able to tell the son of a bitch off was just too tempting to pass up. As I walked through his office door, I was greeted by the sight of a young woman buttoning up her blouse, and from the looks of her cum stained lips it was not hard to figure out what Jasmine and Professor Moore had been doing prior to my arrival. Jasmine greeted me with a smile and seductively said she hoped to see me again, before I left for home. After Jasmine made her exit Professor Moore just grinned at me and remarked. "Perks of the job," "I was told you wanted to see me professor," I said in a gruff voice. "Yes I did. Have a seat Johnny. We have a lot to discuss," He replied. "Actually Mr. Moore, I have another appointment in half an hour, so I would appreciate if you would just tell me what you want to say," I asked him? "Oh you mean the interview with Mr. Henson from Harvard, well don't worry about that because I already cancelled it for you," He told me. "You what," I screamed! "Calm down Johnny. It was just a formality anyway. You have already been accepted to Harvard, and yes on a full academic scholarship. Here is the packet that Mr. Henson left for you. It includes your acceptance letter, your scholarship information papers and your course year book. You can sign up for classes online at the website listed on your acceptance letter," He said. "Professor Moore," I started to say. "To be honest Johnny I'm not Professor Moore. Dan Moore is the name of the asshole my ex is married to. I figured since he stole my wife and daughter from me I should at least be able to take something of his. The problem was the son of a bitch didn't have anything that I really wanted, including my slut of an ex-wife. When I decided to start teaching here I knew that using my real name would hinder my effectiveness so I opted to use his name instead. It's really a form of poetic justice don't you think," He asked me not really expecting an answer? "So if you're not Professor Moore, then who the hell are you," I asked growing more nervous by the minute. "I'm you, or at least I was about 15 years ago. Let me try and explain," He suggested seeing the confusion plastered all over my face. "I grew up in a small shit water town just like you. I was the brain child of two working class parents who for all their efforts just were not able to comprehend, much less accommodate the needs of a gifted child such as myself. One of my school councilors recommended me for admission to Braxton. This place changed my life, as I am sure it's done the same for you. Riding a train of scholarship programs I went on to earn my doctorate of business economics degree from Harvard University. Career wise, I started out as a stock broker and quickly made a name for myself by accurately predicting the way stocks would fluctuate. When my personal investments started paying off, I was able to start my own business. The rest, as they say is history," He explained. "That still doesn't answer my question of who you are, or what you want with me," I reminded him? "Oh sorry, the name's Silverton, Greg that is Silverton, of Silverton industries," He said handing me his driver's license as verification of his true identity. I sat at the desk totally stunned. Here sat one of the greatest economic minds of our time, and the guy is teaching a class on concentration at of all places a college prep school. My face must have shown my bewilderment, he looked at me and asked, "You want to know why?" Being unable to speak at the time, all I could do was nod my head in affirmation. "Braxton has taught me more than I can possibly ever describe. It was here that I learned the fundamentals that have been the driving force to my success. I became a man at this school, losing my virginity in the very classroom that you lost yours in. I have donated millions of dollars to this school throughout the years, but even that seemed to pail in compensation for all this place has given me. The world is a hard place to live in, and this place taught me how to not only survive it, but to prosper as well. Dean Merit is a close personal friend of mine, and when he showed me your profile I noticed so many similarities between you and my former self that I decided to volunteer as one of your instructors. Even though I was semi-retired at the time, it still took almost four years before I was able to pull myself away from my business ventures long enough to teach this class. By the way, the Dean is really not a bad guy. At the end of your first semester, he wanted to call you in and congratulate you on making a 4.0 GPA. I am the one who convinced him to chastise you because I wanted to gage your reaction. I know throughout your life, up to this point, people were constantly praising you on your work. I wanted to see how you would respond to someone doing the exact opposite. Your actions were just as I predicted they would be. You set out to prove to everyone that you were better than any of us could have foreseen. In case you are wondering, I had to threaten to halt all of my support and never donate another dime to the school again in order to get Dean Merit to let me pull off my little stunt in class the other day. I only had notices sent to my top student and the one you received was by far worse than any of the others. I had a couple of people believing that their parents were splitting up or that they were having money troubles. You just seemed so focused that I had to up the ante to see if I could get you to crack. I know it was a shitty thing to do, but if you expect an apology from me you can forget it. I may be just a volunteer instructor, but I take my job as a teacher very seriously. Of all the lessons I learned at Braxton, the one that remains the most useful is my ability to focus. You deserved the A you received in my class. Your ability to concentrate through distractions may even be greater than my own and believe me; that is saying something. I decided to tell you all of this because I want you to be able to come to me if you ever need assistance. I may not always choose to help you, but I would like to be given the option, if you'll let me. I never had a son, and unfortunately my daughter took after my ex-wife. They both claim that I was never there for them emotionally. Maybe they're right. I can tell you one thing though, I never once laid a hand on either one of them in anger, and they had every materialistic item their hearts desired. My Bitch of an ex-wife actually thought that she could leave me and take half of what I have worked for my whole life. She found out that prenuptial agreements do not have an expiration date, at least mine didn't anyway. Remember this son, I don't care how much you love the girl, or think she loves you, always get a prenuptial agreement if you are ever going to get married. If the two of you stay together it means nothing, but if you ever split up it could mean everything. Well enough about all this serious stuff, it's time to celebrate. Is it true what I heard about your parents not being able to make it up here until sometime tomorrow afternoon," He asked. "Yes Sir. Dad had to work, and that is the soonest that they can get a flight in," I replied. "Well since you are not going to have to entertain family tonight I told Jasmine that you might be stopping by to see her. She is staying in one of our VIP suites and I thought you might like to have some female companionship tonight, compliments of the staff here at Braxton. I've been informed that you will be headed back home tomorrow after graduation and seeing as the town you are from is even smaller than the shithole I grew up in, I figured that you might experience a bit of a dry spell before going to Harvard. I might even be persuaded to have Veronica join the two of you. I hear that the three of you put on quite the performance in class last week," Dr. Silverton remarked. "Enough to earn me an A in his class," I said proudly. "So I am told. He also mentioned that yours was the only A he gave out this semester," He said. "That is what I have heard as well," I stated. "I have to ask, how did you know that bitch was a lesbian," He wanted to know? "I was passing by her suite on my way to Professor Little's office to return a book I had borrowed, when I heard cries of ecstasy coming through the wall. Naturally I stopped to listed, and I recognized both hers and Jasmine's voice, and it didn't take a genius to figure out what they were doing. After I learned of their affair I deliberately asked Professor Briton in front of the entire class what boundaries we had to stay within in order to pass the final. As I predicted, his only concern was that none of us team up together, the guy didn't even give a thought to any of us requesting help from one of the other ladies," I explained. "That was brilliant. You focused on his exact words, and used them in a way he never expected, to your own advantage. If that is the way you handle yourself in the business world, you may even end up being more successful than I am," Dr. Silverton said. "Well as much as I have enjoyed this talk, I do have some things I have to attend to, and unless I am mistaken, you have an appointment to keep with Miss Jasmine. Don't let her keep you up too late, pun intended, as I'm sure you won't want to have to explain to your folks why you look so tired on your graduation day," He said while handing me one of his personal business card, with his private phone number on it. Braxton's "Mr. Stewart?" I turned to see a well dressed man holding a fresh drink in his hand leaving the bar. He smiled to me and we shook hands. "Please to meet you Mr. Wood." I said then followed him towards the back of the quaint club. It was a private affair, quiet and anonymous. Cherry wood furniture matched the dark browns and red crushed velvet cushions. I would have thought it gaudy but it worked well for an atmosphere of quiet reflection or isolation. There were other groups sitting about on the scattered couches and love seats but no one was within easy range of another's conversation. Strong pillars holding up the ceiling helped block the view so that you couldn't look across the room. Mr. Wood led me to the far reaches of the club and a well apportioned couch, two stuffed chairs and a table between. Sitting on the couch were two women wearing black cocktail dresses of slightly different cut, one of them had long black hair while the other a curly well kept brunette. Both were pretty and they watched me approach with some curiosity. They both had glasses of wine which they seemed to be nursing. "I'd like to introduce you to Ella Down and Sarah Fleming." Mr. Wood offered. Ella was the black haired girl and Sarah the Brunette. I inclined my head to them and they both smiled to me. I took my seat in the offered chair. "I hope I'm not late." I said. I always arrived early but the doorman had taken his time checking my invitation, thereby making me late. "Oh no. You were early if not for security." He said and I nodded. "I'm glad you agreed to come." I smiled. "I have to admit, your topic of conversation at lunch was rather...remarkable." We were in the same business, I exporting good English Tea for the consumption of our neighbors across the Pond. Mr. Wood was an importer who purchased large quantities. "I thought it caught your approval." "I wouldn't say approval. I will admit to a certain curiosity but nothing more." I said neutrally. "Really? The way your eyes lit up when I ordered our waitress around showed more than a mild curiosity." Mr. Wood pointed out. "You did order her, and quite distinctly so but what caught my curiosity was her willingness to carry them out without so much as a complaint." He nodded as I spoke. "It should not surprise you to know that there are those who are dominant and those who are submissive. In fact, I am sure that you are dominant, though you have fought your nature, until now." "Until now?" I asked. He nodded. "Yes. I have invited you here to explore that nature, to see if there is any truth to my allegation." I looked over to the girls who were watching us but had said nothing so far. "I have taken the liberty of inviting Ella and Sarah here as well for the same purpose, a grand test of our natures. Now. I will say that I am dominant, that is a proven fact. You quite possibly are. One of these women is a confirmed submissive while the other it is thought may very well be one." He informed us. "So one experienced and one untested of each nature." I said and he nodded. "Here at Braxton's we may explore our nature without fear of interference or causing a disturbance. The club is at our entire disposal." He turned to the girls. "Ella here is the experienced submissive. She and I have had a relationship for years." Ella nodded to me as if being reintroduced. I smiled and returned the nod. "Sarah on the other hand believes she may be and has agreed to come here tonight to find the answer." Sarah looked very nervous and I watched as the girls clasped hands, Ella giving Sarah a small squeeze of encouragement. "What do you propose?" I asked. "Just that we find the answer to our questions of nature. If at any time either of you become uncomfortable you are free to stop or even leave. This should be fun from the outset." Mr. Wood took the last sip from his drink then set the empty glass down. "Would you care for a drink before we get started?" He asked and I looked up from my thoughts. "Quite." I looked at him. "Bourbon?" He smiled and nodded. "I think I will join you in one." He looked over to Ella. "Two Bourbons." Ella uncrossed her legs then got up with grace before walking away. I looked at Mr. Wood. "I got my last drink so that I could meet you at the bar. It is not common for Dominants to get their own drinks when a submissive is present." He explained. "That sounds like utter chaos." I said. "How so?" "For instance, there are two of us here, you the confirmed Dominant and me as a prospective one. If we both made demands of Ella and expected her to fulfill them what could she do if they crossed purposes?" "May I call you Aaron?" I nodded to him. "We can be formal back at work but here we should be informal. Call me Scott, please." Ella came back with the drinks, giving Scott his drink first even though I was closer. She said nothing, delivered the drinks then returned to her seat. I watched her the whole way, her trim figure accentuated in the dress. "Please do Scott." I sipped at my drink and felt the fiery liquid steady my nerves. I was away from home, had I not agreed to meet Scott here I would have been trapped in my hotel room thinking of what to do next. "To answer your query, it is a question of ownership. Notice that Ella served me first. I am the known Dominant so she serves me first. However, I also have the relationship with her therefore she would have served me first regardless due to that. You can see a hierarchy begins to develop, all very simple and natural. I am considered to own her. She will obey me first and in fact will only obey you if I give permission to use her. That use of course is all inclusive, however it would also be considered bad manners to take advantage of that use while in my presence." "Basic rules of hospitality." He nodded. "I'm surprised you Americans can fathom it." I grinned. He saluted me with his bourbon before continuing. "The English are not the only ones with manners." He pointed out. "Let's say for the purposes of this evening that I will own Ella and you will own Sarah." I saw Sarah's eyes go wide. "Mind you it isn't true ownership since they are not slaves, nor have they submitted to us formally." I nodded. "This way it will be clear to the girls." "I think Sarah might have some questions." I said and all of us turned our attention towards her. She looked at each of us, clearly uncomfortable with the attention. "How do you know?" She asked then looked at me, like I was some kindred spirit. We were both new. "How do you know if you're submissive?" She turned to look at Ella. "Do you enjoy giving to others? To make them happy? To do things for them, even the small things?" Ella asked. Sarah thought about it for a moment then shrugged. "That's no answer. You've got to be truthful, to us and to yourself." "Yes. Yes I do." "How far would you go?" Ella continued. Sarah shrugged again. She was fighting herself, as if she were afraid of what she already knew. "Look at Mr. Stewart." She said and Sarah looked at me. "Would you serve him?" "Serve him how?" Sarah asked. "Anything. Would you get him a drink when he ran out?" Sarah looked at my half full glass then nodded. "Would you rub his shoulders after a stressful day at work?" "Is it really that simple?" Sarah asked. Ella just nodded. "You've got a giving nature, the question is how far you would go, how much you'd give." She pointed out. "How about you?" Sarah asked looking at Scott. "How far would you go?" Ella turned her attention to Scott. "As far as I've already gone." "So you're his slave?" Sarah asked. "No. We meet from time to time, like tonight. When we do I serve him in any capacity he wishes. But I don't live with him and he doesn't control me outside of these meetings." Ella informed us. "Would you?" Sarah asked and Ella smiled. "That's putting me on the spot." "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." Sarah replied immediately, her face flushing. "It's okay. It's just that he wants to know the answer to that himself but he's Dominant. If he wants to know that answer he can ask it himself." Ella replied, hiding a devilish smile with her wine glass. "She's right. A Dominant must do. There is no beating around the bush with Dominants. We are in charge, we command. A submissive is going to be most attracted to a strong dominant. That is the only way for her nature to be fulfilled." Scott said. "And his." Ella added. Scott gave her a slight smile in return. "Do you wish to serve Sarah?" Scott asked. She looked bewildered. "I ask as it's the only decision a submissive ever actually makes. It is her or his choice who they serve. Once that choice has been made they lose control." I could see his words panic her slightly. "What if they don't want to do something after they've submitted?" I asked. "A good point. Since a submissive it not allowed to pick and choose what they do a relief valve was installed, so to speak. It is called a safety word. A word that has no relevance in normal conversation. Something that would stand out. If a submissive is confronted with something they just cannot do they are allowed to invoke this word. It stops the submission instantly. This way a submissive can regain their equilibrium and know whether or not they want to re-submit or permanently cancel the relationship." Scott informed us. "What is your safe word?" I asked Ella. She smiled. "I have several I use, tonight it's Oolong." She replied. "That's dangerous, we're in the business of Tea." I pointed out. "You agreed not to talk business tonight and bore us to death." Ella retorted and I chuckled. That we had. "Quite right." I conceded. "I think it is time for a test." Scott offered. "Why don't you get to know Sarah better?" Ella turned to looked at the girl who blanched at the prospect. I regarded her. "I think the pertinent question is whether she submits to me. Can you do that Sarah?" I asked her. She regarded me for several moments then nodded. "You have to say it out loud so there is no doubts." Scott said. "Yes." She responded, her voice slightly shaky. "When a submissive addresses a dominant they use the title sir or miss." Ella offered. "You didn't." Sarah replied. "I haven't talked to Scott directly yet. If I had I'd have used his title." Ella smiled warmly. "Don't be afraid. You can stop this any time you wish." "And I'll point out that since this is your first time, feel free to ask questions. This is more of a learning period than a session." Scott offered. "Then yes...Sir. Yes I will." She looked directly at me as she said it and I felt a twinge deep in my belly. It was as if something had just clicked on within me. "I feel funny." She admitted. "I liked saying that." It was as if we'd both had that funny feeling at the same time. A shared moment of intimacy. "What is your safe word?" I asked. Scott gave a nod of approval. I had done something correctly. She thought about that for a bit and the other's sat quietly, allowing her to decide. "How about Geoffrey?" We all sat there looking at her and she blushed. "I'm sorry. I just love your accent. It got me thinking and that's what I came up with." I gave her a smile. I had the accent? I rather thought the three of them did. Then again, I was in their country so I guess it defaulted on me have the accent. "Don't trouble yourself. Geoffrey will be fine." I allowed and she nodded demurely. I felt a thrill at that, she had automatically deferred to me. "Shall we get started?" Scott asked and I nodded. "We are limited as to what we can do and where we can go, something I pre-planned. Feel free to explore, ask questions and enjoy yourself." He said then crooked a finger towards Ella. She set her wine glass down and stood up. "Turn for me." He said after she'd taken two steps. She stopped then slowly turned so he could get a good look at her. I didn't want to copy him like a puppy dog so I set my drink down then sat up straight. "Sarah. Come to me." I felt stupid giving the order. I had no idea whether she'd obey and no right idea what to do if she didn't. She'd been watching Ella display herself for Scott but she set her wine glass down then came over to me obediently. "Sit in my lap." I saw her eyes flash in surprise but she sat down, putting her arm on my shoulder to steady herself. I placed my hand on the small of her back politely to help support her weight but she weighed nearly nothing. I could tell by the firmness of her buttocks as well as her trim figure that she worked out. She was breathing heavy, perhaps from following my order and I could see her breasts rising and falling under her dress. She was mine to do with as I pleased, a lovely creature who's only desire was to serve my needs. A man could go crazy at the thought but I rather thought I had more self control than to jump in with both feet and indulge my own needs. Just as I was new, so too was she. Perhaps it would be best if we found out exactly what Sarah was made of submissively. I traced a finger down her face gently and she looked me in the eye. "You're beautiful." I said and she blushed slightly. I let my finger drop down her neck then lower, over her chest which heaved at the shock of my touch. I was taking liberties with her and she was allowing it, allowing the touch of a perfect stranger. I cupped her breast through the material of her dress and felt her nipple come alive with arousal. She sucked in a breath, her lips slightly parted as she regarded me. I watched her without comment as I switched to her other breast. Scott watched me quietly and I noticed out of the corner of my eye Ella dancing for him silently. She swayed seductively, intent on drawing his attention away from the two of us back over to her. I let my hand fall from Sarah's breast down her stomach then over her leg. She began to open her legs for me then came to a sudden halt. I saw her face flush a crimson red as she realized what she'd done without thinking. I said nothing, not wishing to embarrass her or chance her flight. But the message had been received. She was willing to give herself in whatever capacity I wished. It was a heady cocktail to imbibe. I traced my finger down her leg, her skin was creamy smooth with the trace flaws skin would have. A freckle here, a blemish there. She was human and therefore flawed, I wanted to explore every inch of her delicious flaws. "You aren't wearing any stockings." I pointed out but she said nothing to me. I traced a finger back up her leg, this time allowing it to dip down between her slightly parted knees so I could sample her inner thighs. She sucked in a breath then looked into my eyes. Did she see my hunger? Did she see my desire for her? I had to control myself, I was not a rutting pig. I wanted her but I had a more important task at hand. Explore my nature while I explored hers. I allowed my fingers to trace up to the fabric of her knickers. I saw her close her eyes and languish in the feeling of my touch then opened them to watch me once more. I began tracing my fingers her most intimate parts through the fabric of her knickers. "Take your dress off." I heard Scott order then glanced over to watch Ella lift her dress over her head. She set it on the chair behind her then went back to swaying slowly. She was now topless, her breasts pert and slightly bigger than Sarah's by the look of them. Her panties were sexy lace matching the garters she wore all of which were black. She spared me a glance filled with such heat I felt myself stir in my pants. She gave me a half grin but Scott held his glass up. "Refill." He ordered. She took the glass then walked out of our small area. "She's topless." Sarah pointed out. I nodded. "She is obeying her master." I said and Sarah shivered slightly at that. I could feel her knickers were wet, my caresses and Ella's act of obedience had overwhelmed her fears, causing arousal. "I will obey you." She whispered to me. "...sir." I corrected her and she blushed. "I will obey you sir." She said and I felt another thrill. "Take your dress off." I ordered. I didn't like the thought of copying Scott but there wasn't much else to be done but jump in with both feet. Sarah straightened slightly in surprise then stood up. She turned to face me then watched my face as she slowly lifted her dress over her head. I saw her knickers, thin sexy panties that sat high on her hips. Her stomach was lean but not muscular, she worked out but she was no fanatic, I didn't like too many muscles on a woman, it spoiled her softness. As her breasts came into view I marveled. I had touched them through the fabric of her dress and now I was witness to them. It amazed me she had given herself so readily to a stranger. I was touched by her trust as well as honored she had picked me. Or had she? I hadn't considered how Scott had first met her or what he'd told her in bringing her here. She was a complete stranger to me as well. She began to sit back down. "Your panties as well." I said, using the American term so I didn't confuse her. She hesitated slightly then stole a glance over to Scott. He was sitting there calmly watching her. She hooked her thumbs in the straps then pulled them down. She was shaven smooth, the current fashion these days and I could understand why. It enhanced her beauty, making her seem more innocent as well as showing her efforts to display herself in a seductive manner. She bent over to retrieve her knickers and realized she'd given me a close of her lovely ass. I could tell it had taken her by surprise as she straightened quickly but she policed her facial features so she didn't give her shock away. I thought it was precious her attempts to keep a modicum of dignity under these circumstances. She put her dress and knickers on the back of the couch then returned to me, sitting comfortably in my lap once more. I reached back down to continue my exploration of her charms and she easily parted her legs for me. Ella returned and saw Sarah's state of undress, an impressed look on her face. She gave me a half smile but never wavered from her task. She set the drink down in front of Scott but he was watching me stroke Sarah. "Do you masturbate?" I asked Sarah. Her eyes popped open as she regarded me. We studied each other for a few seconds then she nodded. I continued to watch her as if she'd said nothing. She caught my meaning and blushed as she looked over to Scott who was continuing to watch her idly, sipping the drink Ella had gotten for him. "Yes sir." "Go to the couch and masturbate." I ordered and she got up immediately, perhaps knowing my intent. She moved around the table separating the chair from the couch then sat down. She glanced over to Scott before looking directly into my eyes. She was completely naked before us, the height of the table was less than that of the couch so we could see her clearly. She opened her legs, setting her feet on the edges of the table for support then began exploring herself. I glanced over to Scott who watched silently then deducted from the angle that he couldn't really see her well. "Spread your legs wider. So Scott can see." She obeyed me, her fingers tracing over her flesh as she looked from me to Scott and back. Finally she closed her eyes to enjoy the moment. Her nipples were hard, she was clearly aroused. She enjoyed performing. I added that to my list of notes on Sarah. "I'm horny." Scott mentioned and Ella got down on her knees at his feet without a single command from him. She undid his pants while he ignored her, not a thank you or indication of what she was doing for him. His focus was solely on Sarah. I saw Ella take him into her mouth, her head bobbing as she began pleasing him. Now I could hear him enjoying Ella's attentions while Sarah voiced her own pleasures. Braxton's I sat there watching both spectacles, Sarah directly and Scott out of the corner of my eye. Scott didn't seem to mind that I might watch Ella rather than Sarah. Sarah for her part threw her head back then cried out in orgasm, her stomach rising and falling as she tried to regain her breathing. She recovered slowly, her movements languid. She saw Ella giving Scott a blow job and her fingers began to play once more. She caught herself then glanced to me but I nodded my head, allowing it. Scott grunted as he grabbed at Ella's head. She froze, her hair blocking most of my sight but it was apparent what was happening. Scott went rigid then came in her mouth. She made a small choking sound then slowly took control, her head rising and falling slightly as she milked him with her mouth. They remained still for a few moments then Ella rose to her feet. I could see Scott's fading erection but he seemed indifferent to his nudity. He leaned forward and took his drink in hand, using the bourbon to help steady himself. "She's a most beautiful girl." He pointed out, indicating Sarah. I nodded in agreement. "You must want her." "Terribly." I admitted. "So why don't you take her?" He asked. Was he testing me? Was it for Sarah's edification? "It seems wrong to take control of the girl then immediately slack my lust." I pointed out and he smiled. "I wanted to make her vulnerable, I wanted to test her dedication. I've done that." "Good. You aren't a slave to your own desires. You're thinking of her instead of yourself. The true merit of a dominant." He stood up, putting himself back in his pants. He regarded first Ella, then Sarah and finally me. "I've more to show you, more for you to learn. Come with me." He walked towards a door some ten feet away that led upstairs. Ella rose and put her dress over her arm, gathered her purse then followed him. I was alone with Sarah. "Are you going?" She asked. She was still nude, had not even bothered to try to cover her nakedness, as if now, after what she'd done nudity seemed like nothing. "The question is, are you?" I asked. "If you go I'll go." I looked at her inquisitively. "I made myself a promise that I'd give myself over for one night, just to see if this was really me. You're the one I've given myself to, for the rest of the night I'm yours." She declared. "Doesn't that scare you?" "Very much." She looked at the door. "But what's upstairs scares me more." She admitted. "You don't have to go." I pointed out. "I have to know if this is me. It's still early. I'd feel better if you came too." I stood up and held my hand out to her. She rose to gather her things then we ascended the steps.