4 comments/ 36156 views/ 6 favorites The Apprentices Ch. 01 By: AvoidingRealWork Daphne tried to settle the butterflies in her stomach, as well as the ever-more-frequent twinges of... something... down below. She sat in her seat in a deluxe car on a train headed to Neopolis, dressed properly in an ankle-length skirt and full-sleeve blouse, over which she wore a satin vest. As the countryside sped by, she tried to remain calm. Her twinges were in that place that she should never think of, never touch, except to clean and take care of her monthlies. It felt sweaty again, except not with sweat. Something... slippery in this secret place of hers. Daphne had reached the age of eighteen without ever being told the truths of family life. She didn't know what those secret areas of hers were for. At the age of eleven, she and the other girls had been separated from the boys, and she had never seen one grow up. She had no clue what a naked man looked like, or even that a man was substantially different under his clothes. She had, in fact, never even seen a man. What she did know is that she had been selected. Selected by a "master" to participate in an "apprenticeship," and that soon she would understand all those things that had been happening in her body, in the secret places, for all those years. **** In another car on the same train sat a young man named Nathan, also eighteen years old. He had only just woken up - for some reason in the past few years he had started staying awake late and sleeping late - and was getting undressed for a shower. His car was private as well, yet he still had been instructed to avoid nudity as much as possible. As always, he was to keep his private areas covered. He was never told they were bad, simply that he should not let them be exposed to the light, and should never touch them except to wash them and to urinate. This was part of his upbringing, mind you. Those parts weren't evil, just not to be touched. He was told that it was unhealthy to do so until he reached a certain age. Nathan could feel the familiar dried leftovers of last nights dreams on the inside of his sweatpants. He pushed them down his legs allowing his stiff rod to spring out, pointing slightly upward. He didn't even know what it was called, let alone what it was for. All he knew was he was not supposed to touch it, despite the raw, searing desire that emanated from the tip into the rest of his loins, that urged him to do so. He instinctively wrapped his hand around it, unable to resist his body's most basic drive. The shaft was hard as steel, but the soft skin was like a layer of silk that slid freely along it. The tip was soft and spongy, and when he touched the clear drop of fluid at the end and rubbed it in, radiant beautiful heat started to spread throughout his body. He jerked his hand away. Nathan had been at this point before, and knew only one thing he could do to calm down before... what, exactly?... happened to him. Fifteen minutes later, Nathan was done with his ice cold shower and getting dressed to arrive, disembark, and meet his new "mistress." **** Daphne thought it strange that the "waiting room" was a bedroom. Afternoon was turning into evening, and a woman named Emily brought in dinner for them both. It was the best food Daphne had ever tasted. "You are pretty," Emily observed of her. She looked to be maybe thirty-five years old. "Your master-to-be has good taste." Daphne could only blush. "Now, you should know, even though the apprenticeship is for seven years, you have one month to ask out, without so much as a mark on your record. I think you'll know pretty early on if it's not for you, but it's pretty rare for one of our apprentices to back out." Emily had dramatic eye makeup, and Daphne found her hair gorgeous. Her jealousy was unfounded, since she herself had been trained to make herself up to be stunning without even thinking about it. Her red hair, green eyes, and porcelain skin would make any man melt. She wore iridescent green eye shadow: subtle, yet dramatic. "Also, remember that you have a right to refuse anything that..." "Refuse what?" Daphne asked. "You'll find out later on, but I seriously doubt it will be an issue tonight. The person you're about to... meet... is one of us. Still, you should know about these for future reference." Emily showed Daphne several strategically-placed small red buttons around the bedroom. "Any of these buttons will call several attendants into the room. Just tap-tap-tap. Three times. Once again, this won't be necessary tonight, as I've known your new master for years and I can vouch for him." As she was leaving, Emily added, "Your whole world is about to... but I've said too much already. This will be a special night, I promise." **** Nathan sat down with Rick in the dining nook of his "waiting room," chowing down on a steak and potato dinner. Rick looked at his watch. "Your appointment will be here in a few minutes. I better scram. Look, uh, do yourself a favor and brush your teeth when you're done eating. And did you shower?" Nathan nodded. "Good man. Listen, I would absolutely kill to be where you are, right now." Nathan swallowed his steak with a loud gulp. Rick continued, "I wish I could relive my First Night over and over, but we only get to have it once, so... make it count! This is what we live for." As soon as Rick left, Nathan quickly finished his dinner, washed it down, and brushed his teeth as instructed. For whatever reason, he felt the need to neaten his curly, dark blond hair and make sure his still-sparse beard was smooth shaven. His slim, athletic form was dressed neatly in a silk suit with a stylish necktie. His stomach was flipping, the anticipation causing a bead of sweat to run down his cheek, and his heart to jackhammer in his chest. There was a knock at the door. Nathan opened it, took one look at his guest, and the oxygen left his lungs. **** Daphne opened her door, and there was a person unlike any she had ever met. Tall, powerful, broad-shouldered, with large hands. Everything about him exuded strength. Even his jaw was somehow strong, emphasized by the divot in his chin. This was a man. It had to be a man. In reality, Gordon was only five-foot-eleven, two hundred pounds. But to Daphne, he was a superhuman, someone who could catch her if she fell and carry her to safety. His coal black eyes with their expressive brows could seek out and spot anyone who might seek to do her harm. He reached out his large, rough hand, and in a voice like molten chocolate pouring from a golden chalice, introduced himself. THIS is what boys turn into? How could she have known? Daphne reached out her hand and Gordon gently took it and kissed it, and it was like the touch of his lips caressed her entire body. "Are you going to be ok?" Gordon asked. "Why would you say tha..." Daphne swooned mid-sentence, but Gordon quickly caught her and steadied her. "How about we sit down over here for a moment," he said, walking her over to the loveseat with one arm around her back. They sat down, and Daphne waited for her vision to fade back into focus. "That was really stupid. You must think I'm a scared little girl." "Not at all," Gordon replied in his chocolate voice, and she admired his thick head of short-cut hair. He looked to be in his early thirties, though she could only really guess. He was beautiful, but in a completely different way from how women are beautiful. "Sometimes the most rewarding things in our lives can at first be the most terrifying," he said as he reached his hand up to stroke the red locks falling around Daphne's face. She leaned into his hand and sighed. "And fear and pleasure are closer together than you may think." Gordon drew her face towards his and kissed her. Daphne's body tensed and then relaxed, and then tensed again, and her eyes flew open and she sucked in a breath of air, and then she closed her eyes tight and slammed her lips into his, and her tongue invaded his mouth, and then she broke the kiss and gasped and stood up suddenly. **** "Monica," the thirty-ish brunette with the snow white skin said. "I know you must have a name too, but we don't have to complete our introductions right away." Nathan stood there, totally mute. His eyes couldn't get enough of what he saw before him. It was as if a master artist, the greatest sculptor who ever lived, created a mythical creature who was like a man, but had everything a man lacked. The perfection of man, the ultimate in form. There must be a God, and He must be good, wise, and kind. "I can keep standing in the hallway, but..." she leaned in close to his ear and whispered, "I'm a lot more fun behind closed doors." Nathan mutely welcomed in Monica, dressed in a strapless black evening gown and black high-heeled shoes, which she quickly kicked off. He coughed, and his voice cracked when he said, "I'm Nathan." He stuck his hand out as if to shake hands. "It's a pleasure to meet you, surely," she replied. She took his hand, gracefully placed it on her chest, and took a small step towards him. Nathan saw that his hand was just above the gap between the two exquisite mounds on her chest. He wanted that hand lower. The dress accentuated all sorts of curves that men simply don't have. From the chest to the waist, from the waist to the hip. In back, it hugged a perfect heart-shaped ass. Monica was perfect in places Nathan had never known a person could be perfect. She drew Nathan into a kiss, and his world was enveloped by her. Sensing his need, Monica guided his hands further down her body, over her breasts. He squeezed them, the first breasts he had had contact with since he was a nursling. Then she guided his hands to her ass, and finally her crotch. Nathan could feel a heat coming from that area, and noted that she didn't have that thing that he had, though for some reason he knew to expect this. Monica turned her back to him. "Could you do me a favor and unzip my dress for me? I can't quite reach back there." Nathan started to lower the zipper. "Will your dress be able to stay on with the zipper all the way down? Maybe I should leave it partway zipped." She laughed musically, a sound unlike any he had heard before. "I'm really warm, so if the dress doesn't stay on, that might just be for the best." Monica guided Nathan's hands around her waist. "Though it would be less likely to fall off if you put your arms around me like this." Her dark-brown hair ticked his nose, and it smelled better than any flower he and his friends had cultivated in botany class. She looked up at him and smiled, shrugging her shoulders and letting the dress fall over his arms. "Oops. I guess this is only going to work somewhat." Nathan felt a pang of terror has the hard lump in his pants made contact with Monica's back. Rather than be upset, she rocked her hips back and forth to revel in the feeling. He gasped, and his head swam. Monica turned around in her arms and ground her crotch and abdomen into him. Nathan instinctively moved his hands to cup her ass, causing the dress to slip further. He moved his arms again so that one was around her back, one at the back of her head, and drew her into a kiss. The dress furthered its descent until it was held it place by nothing more than the contact between their lower bodies. "Sorry," Nathan apologized. "I'm not doing a very good job of keeping..." Monica put a finger up to his lips, quieting him. "I think you're doing a very good job." She stepped away from him and let the dress fall to the floor. He stepped back and took in every square inch of her body, now fully nude. The full breasts, thin waist, slim but gracefully round belly, the shoulders, the legs, the arms. And then he did what came naturally: stepped back toward her and began kissing and feeling her from head to toe. Monica led Nathan to the bed, where she lay on her back and allowed the inexperienced young man to straddle her and do whatever he wanted. She hardly minded; he was kissing up and down her torso, while one hand played with her breasts and the other, tentatively, explored her crotch. He placed one finger at her wet and waiting slit and looked at her in question. She nodded enthusiastically, and he pushed his finger in, finding it slick, velvety, and warm. She looked at his eyes, and at the throbbing tent in his suit pants. "You're never going to make it there, are you?" she asked, more to herself, and before Nathan knew what was going on, Monica was reaching up, undoing his fly and pulling out his iron-hard rod. "This is your cock," she said firmly. "It exists to please a lady." Nathan nodded, two fingers now inside Monica's warm, wet place. "And as I'm sure you're well aware, it also does this." Monica gave Nathan's cock a few quick tugs and he felt his whole body convulse. Everything in his loins went tight, and pleasure racked his body. Then it loosened only for a moment, and tightened again, with a thud-thud-thud-thud all through his nether regions. Before he could wrap his mind around the sensation, he felt a surge up his "cock," and milky-white fluid started to shoot out of him. Monica looked like she was expecting this, but clearly she was doing a bad job of aiming, with some landing on her face, and some on her breasts and stomach. Each spurt from his cock was like a whole new universe of pleasure. But it was a pleasure that was forced upon him. He didn't know what it was, or how to stop it, and he was defiling this beautiful creature who came to his room. Opening his eyes, Nathan saw a smile of contentment on Monica's face. Or was it a smile of mocking? He suddenly became acutely aware of his exposure (despite Monica's full, semen-covered nudity) and his embarrassing mess. In a panic, he jumped off the bed, backed into one corner of the room, and slid to the floor. **** Daphne held fast to one of the bedposts, trying to steady her breathing. Fear and desire mingled in her mind, and when she looked up at Gordon, standing over her, she wasn't sure if she should fall into his arms or bolt past him and out of the room. "I can help you relax," he told her, placing one of those large, rough hands on her arm. "Would you like that?" Daphne gave him a small, tentative nod, and Gordon put one hand on each of her shoulders, gently rotating her so she was standing with her back to him, still holding onto the bedpost for support. He started lightly massaging her upper back, and she immediately felt some of the anxiety leave her body. His grip got a little stronger, moving up her neck, and then down the tops of her arms and further down her back. It felt so, so good to be touched this way. She could feel his strength pouring into her. It was as if he existed for her, and her alone. Gordon casually slipped Daphne's vest from her arms and lay it on the love seat. She gave a sigh and her body relaxed just a little bit more. There was now less material between her skin and his expert hands, and this only heightened the new desire that was spreading throughout her body. Her blouse was slightly sheer - she knew Gordon could see the rough outline of her bra - and while this should have been embarrassing, it somehow wasn't. After some time being massaged and feeling her body grow steadily warmer, Daphne felt Gordon's hands move around her waist, drawing her close. It felt almost like a possessive gesture, but in a good way. Not possession. Closeness. Intimacy, she knew the word was. He placed kisses up her neck, finally sucking on her earlobe. Her warmth intensified and concentrated itself on her secret place. She noticed for the first time that it was wet. Very, very wet. All she had to do was move her legs slightly and she could tell. She wasn't supposed to touch herself there, yet suddenly, more strongly than ever before, she felt a deep need to touch herself. Or to be touched... oh! What a thought! Where did this notion come from? Gordon's hands moved over her blouse to her covered breasts, and that blissful intimacy intensified, but this was not what she wanted right now. This was not what she needed. Daphne grabbed one of his hands and guided it down her body to the waistline of her skirt. Gordon seemed startled and gasped at this, as if he wasn't expecting it. Was what she was doing wrong? Is this not the right thing to do with a man? Her mind said "I don't know," but her body said "I don't care." It appeared this was either a right thing, or Gordon didn't mind, because he slipped his hand inside her skirt, and then inside her panties, his large fingers combing their way through her curly hair to her wet place. Daphne grabbed his hand from outside her clothes and pressed it into her mound, encouraging it lower. One of his fingers slid against her slit, and she let out an involuntary moan as her knees weakened. Gordon had to support her with his other arm to keep her from sliding down his body onto the floor. He stroked her outer lips with two of his fingers, while one slid up and down the entrance to the wet place. Up and down, and he would stop at the top and rub something there while his other fingers also rubbed all around, and... This was weird. This was new. Pleasure beyond words! What was this? Was this right? Should it be like this? Gasps of air. Breathe. Does Gordon know this should happen? Can't think. Oh! OOOOH! Her body was going to do something, but she wasn't sure what. Some instinct told her she didn't want it to happen yet, like she was saving money in the bank and she didn't want to spend any until she could buy something really big. She grabbed Gordon's hand and held it tight, signalling him to stop his actions. He withdrew his hand, and as he did so, Daphne's backside rotated against him, and... she felt it. Something very hard in his pants, like he was carrying something in his pocket. She turned him around to face her, and he made a show of licking off his fingers. This made her blush and feel special all at once. Daphne wanted answers, though, and she was going to get them. She quickly unbuttoned and unzipped Gordon's pants, and yanked them down along with his drawers. Erupting from between his shirttails was a rod of flesh, about six inches long, with a mushroom shaped head at the top. It was the strangest thing she had ever seen. She gasped, and the surprise of seeing this thing sent her scrambling backwards to the other side of the bed. She stood against the wall, and stared at it. Her fear, as well as her desire, rose to new heights. **** "What the hell was that?" Nathan asked as he pulled his knees to his chest in shame. Monica rose from the bed, her milky white skin covered in globs of pearly-white goo, from her chin down to the neat patch of fuzz above her slit. One clung precariously from one of her pointy red nipples. She was breathing hard, her skin was flush. Nathan assumed she was as embarrassed as he was. She looked at him carefully. "You really don't know what that was? You've never...? I mean, I know you're all told not to, but usually nature wins the battle..." He stared at her without comprehension. "Nathan, that was an orgasm. You came." She looked down at herself. "A lot." "Is that good?" he asked. "How do you feel?" "I'm totally freaking out right now," he replied. "No, that's what your thoughts are doing. I asked you how you felt," Monica clarified. Nathan closed his eyes and observed the serene euphoria that had enveloped him. "I feel a peace unlike anything I've ever had in my life." "You feel the way you do because your body just did exactly what it's supposed to do, and it's rewarding you handsomely." Monica got up to wipe herself off in the bath. Nathan saw her backside, the swell of her hips and her smooth, beautiful ass, and his rod - his cock - twitched and started getting hard again. The Apprentices Ch. 01 "Monica, may I be naked like you are? I feel as though I should be." "Well of course, dear," she responded from the bath. "I would love to see you. If you wait a minute I can help you out of your clothes." "It's just a suit. I can take it off just fine on my own," he explained. Nathan heard a chuckle from the other room and carefully took off his shoes and socks. He hung up his suit coat and turned around to find Monica behind him, her skin clean and glistening with water. "It's not a matter of needing help to undress," she told him as she started untying his necktie. "It's simply more fun when someone else undresses you." Monica's smooth, manicured hands deftly undid his Windsor knot, and she whipped it out of his shirt and tossed it on the floor. Pushing him against the wall, she kissed him greedily as she practically ripped his shirt open, getting the buttons loose as swiftly as she could. She stepped back and observed the tent in his pants. "I thought so," she said. "This could be a long night." She felt his strong, young arms and shoulders, and ran her hands along his chest, feeling his lean, sculpted pecs and abs underneath his white t-shirt. Nathan crossed his arms and pulled the t-shirt over his head, while Monica, with swift, precise motions, had his belt unbuckled and his pants pooled at his feet. Nathan stepped out of them and removed his socks as gracefully as he could, leaving him clad in nothing but his shorts. Monica led him by the waistband of his boxers to the bed, where she sat and had him stand before her. She looked at him with a broad smile that set his heart racing. Hooking her thumbs in the waistband, she slowly lowered them, allowing his erection to spring into view. She brought the band to mid-thigh and let them fall to the floor. Nathan stepped out of his underwear, never taking his eyes of Monica, as she took his member in hand. "This is a beautiful penis," she told him. Nathan furrowed his brow. "You mean my 'cock?'" Monica leaned forward until her face was right in front of it, as if she were speaking into a microphone. "There are many names." She gave it a quick lick, and Nathan jumped slightly in surprise. "Penis is the medical, the scientific name. It's also a dick," she took another lick, and Nathan sighed, "a Johnson," she took the tip into her mouth and Nathan moaned, "and a phallus," she told him, and took half his length in. Nathan's face became a mask of lust, and he grabbed both sides of Monica's head and rammed himself down her throat, taking her by surprise and completely off guard. Her eyes bulged, but she quickly regained composure, swallowing and catching her breath through her nose. After a brief pause he withdrew, caressing her cheek with his slick, throbbing manhood. "I want to try something," he told her, feeling like something had just changed between them, though he wasn't sure what. "Of course," she replied, and Nathan had Monica scoot onto the king-sized bed, where he joined her. She lay down on her back, he got on his knees, between her legs. Nathan leaned down and kissed Monica passionately on the lips, then let his kisses wander around her face. He wasted little time after that, kissing his way down her body, stopping and one nipple, then the other. Then down to her navel. For some reason it excited him that his... juice... had been all over this landscape. A few more kisses, and here he was. Her place. She liked fingers in there. And since he liked being licked so much by her, it would only stand to reason that... Monica gasped in surprise as Nathan licked her inner petals. The taste was not at all what he was expecting, but it wasn't unpleasant. Strong and tangy. It mingled well with the perfume she used elsewhere, on her hair and neck. With her legs spread as they were, it looked like a flower had opened up to him. He noticed that with the exception of the patch of fur above, everything was devoid of hair. He licked all around, from one outer lip to the other, and the all around the "flower," top to bottom. Nathan tried to observe his lover's reaction to see what she liked. Whenever he got to the top of the opening, where the petals met and there was a funny knob, Monica bucked her hips to meet his face. He tried this again and again, and each time her moans of delight became more intense. She grabbed his hair and pressed his head into her crotch. Her legs lifted up and wrapped around his back. Much to Nathan's disappointment, his tongue wasn't too well suited to plunging into her inner depths. This was somewhere he was determined to go, somewhere he must go. He quickly sucked on two of his fingers, and slid them into her hole, while returning his mouth to the top of her opening. "Oh... GOD!" Nathan licked and sucked, and his fingers stroked Monica's insides. She was now moaning loudly, every time his tongue passed over that knob. "Oh... oh Nathan, you're going to... you're going to make me..." Nathan turned his fingers to feel the top side of Monica's canal, and found a strange rough patch. He pressed his index finger into it, while at the same time pressing his tongue into her knob, and sucking all the flesh around it. Monica made a successive series of "ah" sounds, each louder and higher pitched than the one before. Finally she made one loud screech, and Nathan felt her squeeze around his fingers. There was a pulsing feeling and fluid started to run out over his already soaking-wet hand, got all over his chin, and made a steadily growing wet spot on the sheets below him. He continued to stroke and lick and suck until Monica stopped making incoherent sounds of ecstasy, and her breathing returned to normal. Nathan got up from between Monica's legs, and looked her in the eyes. "That was..." "...an orgasm, yes," Monica could barely answer between breaths. "You came," Nathan said, looking down at his soaking, sticky hand. "A lot." **** "What IS that thing?" Daphne asked, not taking her eyes off Gordon's erect member. "It's my penis," he told her. "My manhood. My cock. Prick. Male member. Unit..." "Why's it got so many names?" she asked with more than a hint of skepticism in her voice, as if to imply that nothing good and honest would operate under that many aliases. "Why not just one?" "Well, for one thing, it behaves differently depending on context." Gordon closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths, and his "unit" started bobbing downward, towards the funny bag between his legs. It got smaller and finally rested innocuously against the bag. Daphne couldn't help but giggle. She crossed the room, around the bed, got on her knees, and had a look. It was so innocuous, like a little baby fire hydrant. This shape-changing only increased her mistrust, however, and she sprang to her feet, backing up a few paces. "Take your clothes off," she said. "All of them." "What?" "I wanna see what other weird things you're hiding under there." "As you wish," Gordon replied, and Daphne watched as he casually removed his tuxedo, one piece at a time. When he started unbuttoning his shirt, she was initially dismayed by all the hair on his chest, but it seemed to compliment the musculature underneath. It belonged there. His body was sort of like a woman's body, but with all the nonsense and frill reduced away, and just the raw power and grace remaining. Naturally this was a place hair would want to be. Gordon now stood completely naked before Daphne, his penis still relaxed, soft, and shrunken. She walked around him, eying him carefully. Downy hair covered his forearms and legs, and the nest of hair at his crotch was much more extensive than her own. He was beautiful, rather like the way an animal like a deer or a horse is beautiful. It was a wild thing, with power in its arms and legs, ready to bound over a fence at a moment's notice. "He," not "it," of course, but there was so much of the animal in him. And then there was the butt. The butt made her smile. "No hidden parts, no secret weapons," he reassured her. "Except for the one," she clarified. Daphne reached for the bag underneath the penis. "And this must be where you keep the ammunition," she mused, giving it a squeeze. "Yow!" Gordon shouted, shying away from her hand. "Careful with that." "A-ha! I knew you had to have an Achilles' Heel. Is this just you or all men?" "Every man who's ever lived." "This is a valuable thing to know." Gordon rolled his eyes. Daphne meanwhile liked where she had this man, him fully naked and her almost completely dressed. It made her feel safer. In control. "Make it hard again," she told him. "Most men can't just do that on command," he explained. "Can you?" "Yes, but I've trained for..." "Do it. Please?" she asked. Gordon nodded, closed his eyes, and exhaled. His member bounced back to life, reaching its full height and hardness in seconds flat. Daphne applauded and skipped a bit. It wasn't so scary now that she knew it a bit. But... "What's it for?" she asked. "I mean, I assume you... go... out of it, but what does it need to be," she gingerly placed a hand around it and found it to be much harder than she thought, "all stiff for?" Gordon drew Daphne near him and wrapped his arms around her back. She had to admit she liked the closeness as she put her arms around his neck. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he said. "Then show me," she answered, with just a hint of trepidation over exactly why a cock got stiff and what it did. Her own body was sending her all sorts of signals, making her rethink whether she liked him being the only naked person in the room. "I'm starting to feel funny being dressed when you're not." "Then take off your clothes," replied Gordon. "I also like being dressed when you're not." Gordon leaned in to kiss her, and she accepted. This time it was a long, languid exchange. Daphne let her hands drift from around his neck, dropping to his hairy chest, and then his stomach, and finally... Should she do it? She was afraid to do it. She wanted to do it. Should she ask Gordon, or just... Daphne grabbed Gordon's cock, eliciting a moan from the naked man. She pulled the skin up and down the iron underneath, feeling its power, feeling its strength. "Undress me," she said. It was as much a decision as a request. Gordon undid the buttons of her blouse, untied the lace, and pulled it open at the waist, revealing her brassiere. She felt the air on her skin, and she blushed, exposing this much of herself. He eased her out of the blouse, leaving just the flesh-colored undergarment as the only thing worn above the waist. He ran his hands all over Daphne's bare skin, giving her goosebumps. His manhood was aimed directly at her stomach, something which she noticed when he pulled her close and it pressed against the bare flesh of her stomach. She should have been taken aback, but instead this warm, impossibly hard intruder filled her with excitement and expectation. Daphne positioned it so it could slide straight up towards the space between her breasts. "Your penis is drooling on me," she said with a grin. "It thinks you're worth drooling over," Gordon replied. "It thinks now, does it? Who makes the decisions for you, you or it?" she asked with a sly grin. "I wonder that myself sometimes," he replied. Gordon deftly undid the front clasp of her bra, faster than she could have done herself. Daphne made no resistance as he swept the garment off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Her breasts, impossibly firm, strong, and proud, the way only an eighteen-year-old's can be, were fully exposed for his eyes. He gazed upon them briefly and then back up into her eyes. "They are beautiful. Men will weep for these. They would kill in pursuit of them." Daphne's blush deepened. The skirt was mostly a hindrance at this point, dropped immediately and gladly stepped out of. Now clad only in panties, Daphne could step into Gordon's embrace and feel his animal power wrap around her. When he reached for the band of her panties, she pulled his hand away, meeting his eyes and shaking her head. Instead she let him onto the bed. "You're nice to look at, and you're nice to feel," she said. "I want to feel you some." Gordon lay on his side, and Daphne spooned her body behind his. He smelled different from a woman. Sharper, somehow. It was nice. His back was smooth and ripply. No hair on it, though, which would have been weird looking, or maybe not. She ran her hands over his chest and abdomen, her fingers combing through his body hair. "This is nice," she told him. "Lying here, feeling things. Being together. I only met you a few minutes ago, but I feel like I always have been with you." "You've never met a man before. You're not used to this." Daphne ran a hand through Gordon's pubic hair and then wrapped her hand around his rock-hard shaft. Gordon let out a long, slow sigh. She gripped it and released it a few times, not sure what to do. "How do you feel? What are you thinking?" she asked him. Gordon took another deep breath of air. "You don't want to know that. Not yet." "Why not?" "For one thing, men are dangerous creatures, every one of them," he explained. "Oh, you can't all be that bad," she said. "For another, well, it has to do with what that thing you're holding is for." Daphne wanted to face him, so she rolled Gordon onto his back and straddled his legs. "I think that this man, at least, is sweet. And he's nice to look at, too." She leaned in to kiss him and felt his cock slide up her belly. She had never quite come down from that near-peak experience she had earlier, when Gordon's finger was almost in her... "When you had my hands inside me, what is the name of that place?" she asked. "Inside, that's the vagina," he said with such confidence. "Outside, the vulva." We also call it a pussy, which has lips..." "Inner and outer," Daphne finished. She rose up on her knees and noticed that Gordon's cock was pointed straight at her panties-covered... Oh, no. Daphne lifted herself off of Gordon and sat at the edge of the bed, facing away from him. Gordon sat up and put a hand on her hip. With only a look, he asked what was wrong. "No. No, no, no. This is not going to work." "What isn't?" he asked. "I worked out what that thing is for. And what my secret... my... vagina is supposed to be for. And it's just not happening." Gordon moved his hand up to her shoulder. "Do you think it might be defective somehow?" Daphne looked at him with embarrassment in her eyes, then down at her own navel. "Because something as big as a cock could never fit in there?" His own was deflated and politely tucked away in his lap. Daphne slowly nodded again. "How did you know?" Gordon explained to her what it meant for a woman to be a virgin, and she listened and nodded. "If I only have to break my hymen once, can it be with you?" she asked with both clinical bluntness and love and affection. "There was a time when the court offered virgins to select dignitaries, but it was considered barbaric, and is no longer practiced," Gordon explained. "You are free to hold on to your virginity for a time, or lose it now, to whomever you please. You are not a slave; you are an apprentice in the art of love, learning to become an artisan, and someday, a mistress." Daphne realized there were many other men in the world, and she had only met this one. And only a short time ago. Yet she knew she could trust this man, and the world out there was a sea of the unknown. "Do it," she said, leaning over him, grabbing his soft penis and feeling it stiffen and grow in her hand. Gordon helped Daphne out of her panties, and she straddled him once again, the two of them clad in nothing but their own skins, Gordon's hard cock pointed straight towards Daphne's virginal opening. She grabbed his hand and fell onto her side in front of him. "Before we do this, I want you to feel me the way I felt you earlier." "Of course," he responded, as if this were a natural thing to ask of him, and he turned on his side and drew her towards him. She could feel his hard cock pressed into her backside, along with his breath against her ear, and it felt exciting and comforting all at once. He kissed up and down her neck, sending waves of warmth through her entire body. One of his hands slowly caressed her hip and moved towards her fuzzy mound, while the other slid between her breasts without touching them. Gordon's movements progressed at a glacial pace, and it had to be a good ten minutes before he finally touched either place. But in the meantime he had stoked a fire Daphne was afraid would consume her. When he finally cupped one of her naked breasts, she gave a low moan and scissored her legs slightly, longing for his touch down there as well. Rather than relenting to her unspoken desire, Gordon grasped her hand in his, his palm against the back of hers, their fingers intertwined. Daphne wasted no time in leading him down to her sopping wet pussy. His finger slid down between her lips, and this time it was his turn to moan when he realized just how wet she really was. He slowly rocked his finger up and down, from her vestibule to her hooded button - her clit - and back, again and again and again, while his other fingers massaged her inner and outer lips. "Faster," she asked, almost a command. "Move faster." Gordon started to move his hand in a circular motion, his fingers in all the right places, the stimulation on Daphne's clit breathtaking and almost unbearable. His other hand grabbed each of her breasts in turn, squeezing each nipple with just enough roughness to make it stand out, stiff, red, and proud, from the pink areola and white flesh surrounding it. His cock seemed to grow even harder, and pressed rudely into her ass cheek. Meanwhile, he assaulted her ear, face, and neck with kisses and at times, gentle bites. The fire growing within Daphne turned into a raging inferno, and she knew that the something she had felt coming was going to happen, and she may not be able to stop it from happening. She wanted to do this right, even if it was painful. Even if it was terrifying. This man was hers, and she would have him. "Get on your back." This time it was an order. Gordon obeyed, even as Daphne's stiffened arms were on his shoulders to force the issue if necessary. Daphne examined her man, lying beneath her spread knees, his hands on her hips, his eyes telling a tale of tragic desire. Her own body was now an overheated cauldron, and it would boil over whether she wanted it to or not. She grabbed his cock, appreciating its hardness, its size and shape. This was going to hurt, but like a bandage, she rationalized that it would be easier to take it off in one swift stroke than little by little. As she aimed his penis at the opening of her sopping vagina, Gordon's eyes went wild. He looked like he wanted to say something, but words wouldn't come forth from his mouth. Daphne felt a distant thumping from somewhere in her loins. Something was coming, at it would be good. In one swift movement, she fell upon the phallus and let it impale her. "OH GOD!" she screamed as pain and pleasure ripped through her body and her mind. When the pain subsided, the pleasure not only came to the foreground, but grew. The distant thumping turned into wave after wave of convulsions, once again blinding her. Maybe blinding, or perhaps transporting her to some higher plane on which the affairs of this petty world don't matter. After what might have been thirty seconds or five minutes - she couldn't tell - she collapsed onto Gordon's hairy chest and listened to his heartbeat, all while his steel-hard manhood remained inside her newly uncovered hole, filling it perfectly and bringing her unspeakable contentment. The Apprentices Ch. 01 **** "And that funny thing I felt inside your vagina, on the top?" Nathan asked. "My g-spot," Monica explained, sitting next to him on the edge of the bed. "What's the G stand for?" "Some doctor from antiquity, I think," Monica speculated. "Who cares?" "You're right. I want more of you," Nathan announced, and with surprising swiftness, grace, and ease, flipped her onto her back and pinned her to the mattress. He began kissing her with a new, even more ardent passion, and his fingers attacked her pussy. His cock slid up and down in front of her opening, and he was beginning to form a notion in his mind. Monica's eyes opened wide, a look almost of fear on her face, like she was losing control over the situation. Her hand scrambled in search of something on the side of the bed frame. She tapped something once. Nathan was rubbing the head of his dick up and down her wet slit. She tapped twice. He had his dick at her vestibule, with nothing whatsoever to provide resistance. Monica was totally under his control and there was nothing she could do about it. He would - was going to - have his way with her. Her finger hovered over the panic button. She pulled her hand away without tapping a third time, and instead placed her hand around the back of Nathan's neck. At that moment, he rammed his steel-hard phallus into her hot, wet cunt. "Yes. This," was all he said. Then he began rocking slowly in and out. Monica raised her legs and wrapped them around his broad back. Nathan quickened his pace and fucked her vigorously. Again, and again, and again, each time bringing her level of arousal and pleasure to a new height. It only went on for about five minutes, but it could have been two hours as far as she was concerned. It was something they were all taught. Don't get off on losing control. Not in this line of work. Yet Monica's complete, sweet surrender to this young, bucking stud's gyrations had rendered her powerless. Nathan saw that even in her throes, there was something extra she needed, and he licked his thumb and rubbed her clit with it. He felt everything about her start to change at that point. Her fingernails dug into his back. Her legs gripped him more tightly. Her breathing changed and she started to bite his ears. Rather hard. He knew what this was. What was coming. "Nathan... oh, Nathan!" Hearing his own name from her lips, hearing it called like that, an invocation of delight, like he was a deity, it was intoxicating. "Say it. Say that again!" he implored her. "NATHAN! Oh, god, oh Nathan, keep fucking me. Don't stop fucking me! I... ahhh!" she gasped, and everything about her went tense. Now, do it now, he told himself, and he let himself come. This time it was his, and he understood it, and he knew it was coming. He shouted with joy, as he and Monica sang notes of ecstasy in harmony, their climaxes moving in perfect sync. As they came down, they settled into one another's arms. A calm contentment came over them both. "I think I'm ready to die now," Monica said, meaning it sincerely. A remarkable thing for someone in her profession to say. Nathan's cock was still inside her, and still hard. "Shall we go again?" He asked. "What? Wait, let me first..." Before Monica could say another word, she found herself bent over the edge of the bed, while Nathan figured out how to penetrate her pussy from behind. In he went. It was delectable. Nathan marveled at how beautiful and round her ass looked from this position. Her breasts dangled and swayed, and he leaned into her to grab them both, driving himself further into her in the process. After a few minutes of pussy pounding, he pulled her up off the bed towards himself, bringing her into almost a standing position. He steadied her with a hand on each breast and took long, powerful strokes with his cock, using his legs to power into her. Monica took a portion of her pleasure into her own hands, violently rubbing her clit while getting powerfully fucked from behind. It didn't take her long, and her screams of climax took the inexperienced Nathan by surprise. Unable to come immediately, he let her finish her orgasm while his built. He pulled out. "Sit on the bed," he told her. She complied. "Grab it and stroke. What you did earlier." She took him in her hand, took a few adept strokes, and closed her eyes, knowing exactly what was coming. Nathan watched with delight and powerful pleasure after a several ropes of cum coated her face, hair, and chest. It was much better when he wanted it to happen. To be continued...