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Ms. March

By: Cinner



It was approaching the time for the annual office calendar shoot at Neufville and Co. This year, nearly everyone -- well nearly all the gentlemen at Neufville and Co. - were looking forward to it, because of the arrival in June of the new girl in the public relations office, Saffron Sloane. Saffron Sloane was delightful to look at: smooth cocoa-coloured skin, chiselled features, statuesque at 1.83 metres, big-boned and nicely-padded in all the right places. Certainly she wore a suit well, and some wondered aloud why she didn't work in front of the camera instead of behind it; but whatever her reason for hiding her charms, everyone wanted to see her nude. Tastefully done nude calendars were the norm in the advertising industry, and though Neufville and Co. served as opinion leaders, they'd never actually done a nude calendar before; no one thought it seriously worthwhile until Saffron Sloane showed up. 

*****

"Definitely not!" Saffron had said when the suggestion was first made to her that she appear in the annual calendar for Neufville and Co. "I'm a married woman! What made you think that I'd even consider such a thing?"

It was news to the people at Neufville and Co. that Saffron Sloane was married. Somehow, human resources had not picked that up about her; nor had anyone else, since she arrived early and left late every day, and though very affable when one caught her in the hallway or car park, she was generally too busy to spend time gossiping about her personal life, or socialising after hours. She was also available to travel at short notice, and was a natural at entertaining old Laurent Neufville's most distinguished clients, a job that he seemed to share with her most of the time. No one could see how any husband in his right mind would tolerate a thing like that.

Not surprisingly, Saffron Sloane's path wasn't strewn only with rose petals cast there by her adoring public. She'd managed to make an enemy or two in her short time at Neufville and Co. These well-connected tabbies didn't like fresh-faced upstarts, and Saffron Sloane's face was the freshest anyone had seen in a while. In particular, Saffron Sloan's rise didn't sit well with Ruth Mollison, the head of the marketing and communications department of Neufville and Co. Ruth Mollison had worked for the company for nearly thirty years. She had comforted Laurent Neufville after the death of his first wife, staying by his side as he built the company from the ground up to its present place as the main rival of Saatchi & Saatchi on the global scale. She expected that as the principal turned 65 in the next three years, he would begin to think of semi-retirement and settling down again.

Of course, there was nothing in his behaviour that suggested that Laurent Neufville was thinking about retirement or settling down or returning to his family's vineyards in France after a distinguished corporate life in exotic Jamaica. Quite the contrary, the man had seemed to have taken on a new lease on life in the past year after returning home from some mysterious spiritual sabbatical that he had insisted on taking. 

He had begun to travel more, a thing that had not happened in ten years since he had been leaving a lot of that kind of work to his band of young-and-upcoming brand managers, reserving only the very highest challenges for himself. All of a sudden, however, the man was taking the corporate jet the way lesser men took taxis! He was even rumoured to have started visiting the company's gym! Always a workaholic, he had never been a man to take his work home with him, so to speak, but and a few people had been overheard talking about what a lovely home he had, and a few others had made reference to good time that they had had on his boat! 

He wasn't exactly a ruthless, cold-blooded, sulky psychopath in the office. He couldn't have succeeded in this industry if he were, but suddenly, the man seemed more grandfatherly; more gently patient, as if he were genuinely concerned with leaving a legacy beyond his impressive collection of clients and accolades for the next generation of young professionals who worked for him. He'd become more hip, younger in his outlook, more interested in what people with the yuppie demographic profile and the millennial generation thought about life.

Ruth Mollison didn't like it one bit! She was from the old school, that felt that the millenials should have been seen but not heard; and she didn't like it that Laurent Neufville had given up the black Armani suits that went so well with his pale skin, his silver mane of hair and his startling blue eyes, for clothing made by a place called Topman Design, polo shirts and trainers! She had nearly fainted when she found herself at an Expo where he rolled up his pink sleeves, removed his tie and held what could only have been described as a master class for a group of advertising students from the media school at the University of the West Indies. True, the man's smile was beautiful, and even girls who were more than forty years younger than he were flirting with him, but one had to draw a line somewhere.

Ruth Mollison blamed Saffron Sloane for the alarming change in Laurent Neufville. She wasn't sure how the woman had done it, but she felt that her appearance in the company and Laurent's rennaisance were too proximal to have been coincidental. She had watched how Saffron had stood to the side of the room and watched the proceedings with a gentle mother-hen smile on her face. She had heard how Saffron had introduced Laurent! True, all the glowing accolades were true, but it was her come-hither tone of voice; her possessive pride in a man whom she had known for only the past year and that Ruth herself had known for thirty! She had noticed how Laurent Neufville kept glancing at Saffron, apparently to gauge from her reaction how things were really going with these youngsters. She noticed when he winked at Saffron after making a little double entendre joke that had gone down well with the students! He had looked at and smiled at Ruth as well, to be sure, but by then she was so angry with the situation that she had seen him frown slightly, apparently puzzled, and wrap up the event quickly.

"Is something wrong, Ruth," Laurent Neufville seemed genuinely concerned, when he finally managed to shake off the last of the students.

"Not at all!" Ruth grimaced, since she saw Saffron Sloane making her way around to join them.

"You looked as if there was a major crisis in the company just now! I had to wrap that up so that I could see what it was!" 

"Nothing that I can't handle, Laurent. You can count on me," she said.

***

"I've given this a lot of thought, Laurent and I think that a more personal face to the company would go down well this year for the calendar," Ruth Mollison said to Laurent Neufville the next morning when she saw him in the office. She had taken along her ally, Orlando Wong, the company's biggest gossip, promising him a scoop for his troubles.

"A more personal face? What do you mean?" Laurent asked.

"I think that we should choose twelve people and their families, their spouses, you know the sort of thing; we get them from all over the company and highlight them. Attractive people, attractive families, attractive place to work, attractive business opportunities with us... That sort of message."

"Wow! I think it's divine!" Orlando chirped.

"It is a great idea, Ruth!" Laurent echoed.

"Thanks! And I've drawn up a list of people who we might ask. Saffron Sloane will bring her husband in for us. She's a very attractive girl. She and her hubby should look great together! She'll be Ms. March!"

"Her husband? She said that she'd pose with her husband in our annual calendar? Are you sure?" Laurent Neufville seemed startled.

"I didn't even know she had a husband!" Orlando gushed.

"Yes, she's married; didn't you two know?" Ruth tried to sound matter-of-fact. "I was even thinking that it could be a little bit risqué, our calendar," she continued. "Have them wear swim suits, or go nude, but not show anything really; you understand. I want them to touch each other, his hand on her butt to hide most of her crack, her body hiding his dick only just. Have them look lovingly into each other's eyes, show us how much they mean to each other; you know what I mean."

"Saffron and her husband?" 

"Yes, them and everyone else," Ruth wanted to sound sympathetic, but she also wanted to punish Laurent Neufville for liking Saffron a bit too much in her estimation. "I hear that her old man is quite a catch," she said winking broadly at Laurent Neufville. "A beautiful couple," she managed to smile fondly, as if at a memory. "One day, I hope to be so lucky," she said gently, reaching out to run her fingers through Laurent's thick white hair.

She patted him on the back, and glanced at Orlando who pawed the air, catlike, in grudging admiration for her sneakiness. 

"Don't you want Saffron on the calendar, Laurent?" Ruth asked, innocently after a few moments.

"No, I have no objection to her being in it whatsoever. You just surprised me with the news that she agreed to participate in this couples calendar, that's all," he seemed strangely reflective.

"You know, Laurent, I have to say that I think that Saffron has been a little naughty," Ruth confided. "She wasn't at all forthcoming about her marriage, but I think that if I have a little word with her that I'll straighten her out. We don't tolerate deception here, after all. You said that yourself! So, if she can't get that straight then she will have to leave."

"I agree," Orlando said on cue.

"What are you talking about?" Laurent seemed confused, glancing between Ruth and Orlando. "She wanted to keep our marriage a secret so that she could make it here on her own steam in this business. She even insisted on keeping her maiden name because she didn't want anyone to give her any special favours because..."

"Wait a minute! Our marriage? You're married?" Ruth shouted.

"You're married to Saffron Sloane?" Orlando screamed as he danced around on his toes. "And not even your nearest and dearest knew!" he glanced at Ruth who looked a bit unwell.

"Yes! Didn't she tell you?" Laurent asked. "I thought you knew. You just said that you'd spoken with her and that she'd agreed that she and I would appear together in your nude couples' calendar. That girl really knows how to make an old man feel good! I never thought I'd be doing something like this at my age! I didn't know that I'd be doing a lot of things that I've been doing with her at my age! She is an adventure to be sure! She's always telling me that I've still got it, but you can't be sure, you know. I thought that she was just being kind, but now this! Wow! You really ought to snag yourself someone, Ruth! I recommend it, highly! A younger spouse really brings a little kick back into life!" the man grinned, happily. "But shhhh, let's not say anything more about this. I suppose she wanted to keep it a secret until the big day, so don't tell anyone that she's going to show up with me!"

Ms. Margo



This is a partially true story, with some embellishments and enhancements out of my own fantasy. I'll allow you, dear readers, to wonder what is true, and what is contrived, where truth ends and fantasy begins. Enjoy. ;)

Mistress Margo was waiting for me in the reception hall of Saint Petersburg Airport. I had been there a couple of times before, but this time was a bit tense. I was anxious about the week that awaited me with her. After Passport Control and Customs, and a cursory search of my baggage (thank God it was not more intense, given what was in my bag), I exited arrivals into the reception hall to search for Miss Margo. I recognized her immediately. This was not our first meeting. Our first, in fact, had been a year ago, and had not gone well. She was too kind to me, and should have been more insistent. But now I was ready. And so was she, if I knew her, from our conversations up to this point. 

She gave me a cursory look, a gratuitous greeting and motioned me to follow her. I did so, out into the cold Saint Petersburg air and towards the car waiting for us. The driver helped me load my bags into the trunk and Ms. Margo motioned me to take a seat on the back seat from the opposite side of the car. 

"So, Peter, are you ready?" she asked, somewhat accusitorially, somewhat skeptically. 

"Yes Ma'am," I said. "I'm ready to submit." Ms. Margo had agreed to see me again and fulfill my secret fantasy of sucking cock. But true to her character, she refused any detailed components of it on my part. While I was allowed to name the theme, it was up to her to orchestrate and execute. 

She waited a bit before she replied. "I hope so," she said slowly. "I won't tolerate any bullshit this time, and there is no fail-safe for you, no safe-word. It's all or none, and in a moment, it's all, do you understand me?"

"Yes Ma'am." 

"Good. Then hand over your cash, wallet, credit cards, your passport, all your identification and other documents. And your phone, too. You won't need that for now. You know what I mean, we talked about this. You agreed in principle already, so hand them over." 

I already had everything in hand, in a central location. I took them out of my inside pocket of my jacket and handed them over to her. She placed it in her purse and spoke to the driver. Although I speak Russian tolerably well, it seemed she was speaking something else, something I only vaguely understood, if at all. But certainly not completely. Far from it. I wondered if it were Polish. Or maybe a Baltic language. No matter. Whatever she had planned, she had no intention of sharing it immediately with me. 

As I recalled, Ms. Margo had her play apartment out a good distance on the outskirts of town. But short of that the driver took us to a central location, where there were shops and stores. I became nervous, realizing that she truly was going to do everything we had talked about. Whether I wanted it or not. And with my money and passport in her possession, I didn't have much choice at this point. 

She said something else to the driver in Polish, or whatever, and then motioned to me with her long, sharp nails. 

"Let's go, slave." 

Ms. Margo led me towards a set of stores and shopfronts where we had stopped. Her direction took us to a salon. She walked directly in, not waiting for me. 

By the time I caught up with her, she had already begun speaking with a stylist there, a lady about 45, and they continued to talk in quiet tones out of my earshot, as Ms. Margo made me take a seat away from them while she discussed matters with the stylist. In a moment Ms. Margo approached me and told me to stand. 

"Oksana has all my instructions and you are to do whatever she says," she told me forcefully. "I want no bullshit or whining from you. You do what she says, when she says, or I promise you, you will pay dearly for your mistakes. Now, go to her, I have other things to do in preparation for your time here. Do NOT disappoint me! Do you understand?"

"Yes Ma'am," I said humbly. 

She turned and walked out of the salon. I looked at Oksana and walked slowly to her. 

"So, Petra," she said with a gloating smile on her face, "are you ready for your salon treatment?" 

"Yes Ma'am," I answered nervously. 

"Well, first things first, we need to get you slick and clean, so I'm going to take you back and get you hairless, as Margo requested. Let's go." 

Oksana took me to the back of the salon. There, she told me to strip and put my clothes in a plastic bag. She was all business about it, not tolerating any hesitation. I stood before her, naked, embarrassed, and she took the opportunity to enjoy the circumstances at my expenses. 

"Well, I can certainly see why we're feminizing you, Dear," she commented harshly. 

I didn't reply, not that one was expected or wanted. 

"Get in the shower." 

She stripped down herself and joined me in the shower. Her body was voluptuous, with large breasts and a large round ass. She had a thick, dark, unkempt bush between her legs, in complete contrast to the blonde hair on her head. She turned on the water and waited for a warm flow of water before she began washing me and applying a depilatory to my entire body, from the neck down. She applied the solution twice, ensuring that there was not a hair from the neckline down on my body, paying particular attention to the crack between my ass and my crotch. She was not gentle in the process, either. She was all business. 

When I was completely hairless and she turned off the shower, she handed me a towel to dry off before taking one herself to dry off and redress. Rather than hand me my clothes when I was dry, she handed me a robe, a very silky feminine one, and gave me some slippers to put on my feet. She led me to a booth away from the main salon area, fortunately. She sat me in the chair at her booth and took a look at me before she began. 

"Margo would prefer you have a feminine hairstyle without a wig, for obvious reasons," she explained. "And it seems you've done just what she said, not cutting your hair since you began planning your meeting with her. I think I might have enough to work with here to give you a very nice, sexy, feminine pixie cut. So we'll begin with that. It shouldn't take too long. While I'm doing that, Ilona will come back to do your nails and then we'll work on your makeup. Lord knows you have no clue for now on how to do that, do you?"

"No Ma'am," I said. Everything Ms. Margo had promised -- threatened? - was coming to fruition. 

After Oksana began working on my hair, another lady, Ilona, showed up in the back booth to work on my nails. But the first thing she did was pierce each of my earlobes. I almost wanted to cry. There was definitely no going back now. Even if I tried to run, Oksana had my clothes, in a plastic bag and where it was I had no idea. So I was committed. Oksana and Ilona chatted as they worked, but I was more focused on other things, not really listening to them, although occasionally I caught a catty comment about me, but I was more focused on what was to come. 

In an hour's time or so, Oksana had finished my hairstyle. She had also colored it so I was now a blonde. It was very feminine and stylish, although very short on the sides, and long on the top. Ilona was close to finishing my nails by that point. They were long and sharp. I wondered how I would do anything with them. I'd never had nails before, obviously. 

Oksana left for the time being, while Ilona finished her work. 

"You want to be a girl?" she asked me. 

I didn't know what to say. It was embarrassing enough to be dolled up as I was with her asking such questions. 

"It's OK, you can tell me, we can be girlfriends," she laughed at my expense. 

"Yes," I said. 

"You will be a pretty girl, don't worry, Oksana and I will make you very pretty, sexy girl," she assured me. 

"I will teach you how to act with such long nails, OK?" she continued. "It's not easy, but sexy girls have long nails like this, and this is what Margo told me to do. I will also teach you how to take care of them until it's time to come back to see me for a correction. OK?" I wondered why I would need a correction or any other sort of manicure attention in the span of a week. 

"Yes, Ma'am." 

"Now sit for a while and let the polish dry. I'll be back with Oksana and we'll both help you with your makeup. I love doing these kinds of make-overs. It's so much fun!" She left with a giggle. 

I sat and waited impatiently for them. I looked at my nails. They were about an inch long and very sharp, with a light bluish-green polish and some whitish adornments, like tiny pearls on them. I still wondered how I would get anything done with these talons on my fingers. 

In a while Oksana and Ilona returned, ready to do my makeup. Before they began my makeup, they used something like a laser to eliminate the facial hair. It was a little painful, but probably better in the long run, I realized. It took about two hours for them to do this. The further we got into this, the more anxious I became, but I was stranded here in their care, so there was really nothing I could do. I truly hoped Ms. Margo had not ditched me here. Being of an alternative orientation in St. Petersburg would not be a good thing; the laws and society in general here are very abusive of such people. 

The two of them began explaining to me how to do my makeup, as they applied it themselves. Base, eyeliner, eyeshadow, mascara, lipstick. Obviously, I wasn't the first they had transformed, probably not the first for Ms. Margo. She did seem to have a penchant for slaves like me. Perhaps it truly was her specialty. 

About the time that they were putting the finishing touches on my makeup and on my lesson, Ms. Margo appeared. 

"Well, well, don't we look all sexy and femmie," she said with condescension. "Are we ready to go and begin your adventure?" 

"Yes, Ma'am," was all I could manage. She hadn't told me everything that would occur, what she had planned, and I was still very anxious. 

"Good. I have your clothes here, some of them. Put these on." She handed me panties, a skirt, fishnet stockings and a white blouse to put on, and put some high heels on the floor for me. They were from my bag. Obviously, she had already been through my things. Not that I expected anything less. She was insistent on no secrets and total transparency with her. I knew that going in. But it was just a little bit alarming. I put on the panties first, embarrassed before all three of them, and Ms. Margo scolded me as she instructed me how tuck my pee-pee, as she called it, and hide it in my feminine panties. Then she watched as I further dressed and got ready to walk out with her. After I put on the shoes, she had me turn and show her how I looked, front, back and from the sides. 

"OK, let's get this show on the road, Petra," she laughed viciously. "We have a lot of things to do this week. Follow me. Ilona, Oksana, thanks so much for your help. I'll bring her back for a touchup soon. And maybe we'll have an evening together, the four of us?" 

Lena and Oksana both agreed, smiling with glee at my departure with my new look. The heels weren't that hard to walk in, but I was still unsure of myself in my new state. Ms. Margo handed me a long jacket to wear, to ward off the spring cold, as we made our way to the cab. True or not, it seemed like every eye in the salon and on the street was on me, knowing I was not a girl, despite my appearance. 

She remained silent as we made our way to her apartment. I couldn't help but look at my nails as we rode in the cab. They really were well-done and beautiful. When we arrived at her apartment building she took me upstairs via the tiny, rickety elevator I remembered from before. My bags were obviously already there, and she offered no commentary until we entered her apartment. 

"So, my little slutty slave Petra," she began, after she took her place on the couch and lit a cigarette, me on my knees before her, "here is the plan. First, take these." She handed me several pills and I drank them down with some water she offered. I hoped it wasn't tap water. "You are going to be punished for your behavior from the last time we met. Then you will clean this apartment from top to bottom. And don't you dare break you nails in the process! Tomorrow you will begin your transformation. We will talk more about that when you're finished cleaning. I want this place spotless!" 

Ms. Margo put me in restraints that held my wrists to the ceiling, after she stripped me down to only my heels. She whipped my ass and legs for a long time. It was Godawful painful, but she was not going to let up until she was satisfied. I begged her for forgiveness and mercy, but she was relentless and inconsolable. When she finally was satisfied, she released me, pointed me to the cleaning supplies, and sat and watched porn movies and smoked while I cleaned the apartment on my hands and knees. 

When I was finally through cleaning, she brought me to her knees at that couch. She made me lick her pussy and then put me on the couch so that she could ride my face. She rode it for what seemed like hours, until her appetite for orgasms was quenched. She treated me to a taste of her piss in the process, promising to give me more later on. 

When she was finished with me she sent me to sleep in the bathtub and serve her in the morning, when she was ready. 

"Get on the couch, on your back," Ms. Margo told me, awakening me. "I need to be licked." 

I got out of the tub and went to the couch, laying on my back. Ms. Margo mounted my face and filled my mouth with her piss, then rode me, while she smoked. She was relentless as she did so. But there wasn't much I could do. After she finally orgasmed for the fifth or sixth time, she got off of me. 

She handed me more pills and water. I wondered what there were but I was afraid to challenge her with a question like that. "Go get cleaned up and let me see how you do your makeup," she said coldly. "We have guests this afternoon." 

I went and took a shower, not knowing exactly what was going to happen further. Ms. Margo didn't share much information with me. I took my shower and toweled off. Ms. Margo entered as I was finishing up. 

"I have your clothes here," she said. "You will wear this and your heels, and put on some lotion on your arms and legs. Men don't like girls with rough arms or legs. They will be here in about an hour and a half, so let's get ready. I want to see how you do your makeup. You won't always have me to help you with this, especially later this week." Her comment alarmed me, as I wondered what she meant, I wouldn't be with her. With whom would I be? It scared me, but there was nothing I could do. 

I took the things for my makeup and began to apply it, nervously. Ms. Margo was very strict, and several times she took the brush or the applicator and did it herself. She was very impatient. I didn't know what to do. She was very demanding. 

After I put on my makeup, I put on the panties and the robe that I had brought with me and slipped on my heels, after I donned my fishnet stockings. I went to the main room and kneeled before her. Ms. Margo was smoking and watching porn again. 

"Slave, in a bit you're going to meet my girlfriend and her three slaves. You're going to serve them. You're going to suck their cocks. A lot. Are you ready for this?" 

"Yes Ma'am," I said, not really sure I was ready. 

"I hope so, because I really do NOT want you to disappoint me. I will beat your ass if you do. Before they come you make me a sandwich and something for yourself. You need your strength. You've got a lot of cocksucking to do." 

I left Ms. Margo in the main room and went to the kitchen. I prepared sandwiches for us and returned. She ate silently until she finished, not waiting for me. She sent me to the kitchen to clean up when she received a call. I took the plates and washed them. She had already finished her call, not that I had heard anything of substance from it. 

"Kneel, slave," she said, after she lit a cigarette, pointing to a place in the middle of the floor. After I was on my knees, she shackled my wrists to the restraints on the ceiling, pulling them tight. 

"Now," she began, taking a long drag off her cigarette, "my girlfriend Vita has three slaves, and today you are going to practice sucking their cocks. Because in a couple of days, I'm going to sell your slutty, faggot ass to Mikhail. You're going to be his bitch, and maybe even his wife. Do you understand me?" 

I was a little shocked. This was more than we had agreed to, but I didn't have much choice. "Yes, Ma'am," was all I could manage, with a hoarse voice. 

"Good, now, relax, you're about to get what you wanted from the beginning, some nice, big Russian cocks," she said with humor. She left the room and went to the kitchen, probably to check her e-mail and surf the web while we waited for her girlfriend. 

In a while the doorbell rang. Ms. Vita was there, and true to Ms. Margo's word, she had three young men in tow. And they were very virile and handsome. My knees ached, having been on the hardwood floor already for quite some time, but it was obvious this was far from over. Ms. Margo brought a glass of wine for herself and for Ms. Vita before they settled in. 

"Well, well," Ms. Vita began, "What a pretty slave girl you have here for us to play with!" She took a seat, as her slaves disrobed and kneeled at her feet. It was hard not to notice the size of their cocks. They were very substantial. One in particular was just enormous. She pulled a cigarette from her purse and one of her slaves lit it for her. 

"Yes, she has turned out very nicely, hasn't she?" Ms. Margo answered. "I think Mikhail will be very pleased, but she needs training. You know how demanding Mikhail is." 

"Oh, yes, I certainly know that!" Vita answered. "He's so sexy and dominant. Are you sure this little slut can satisfy him?" 

"Well, if she doesn't, then I'll sell her off to someone else," Ms. Margo said. "Why don't we get started? I want to see some action here. Let's not start with the hung stud, I want to work her in slowly." 

"No problem," Ms. Vita said. "Sergej, stand up, fuck his mouth," she said. 

I was more than a little terrified, "buyer's remorse" setting in when the first young man stood and presented his cock to my lips. He rubbed it across my lips and put his hand on the back of my head, roughly so. 

"Open your mouth, slave bitch," Ms. Margo said. I was in a trance, and resisted her words. Sergej continued to trace my lips with the tip of his unsheathed cock, more insistently now, and when I failed to open my mouth, Ms. Margo stepped forward and took my jaw in her hand and opened it forcefully. Once my mouth was open, Sergej put his cock in my mouth. 

"Take her head in your hands, slave," Ms. Vita said. "Fuck her mouth, show her what a cock is about, let her taste your cum." 

Sergej seemed to be the youngest of the three young men that Ms. Vita had brought with her. But he was very enthusiastic about fucking my face. There was nothing I could do, being restrained to the ceiling by my wrists. He held my head firmly and bobbed me until he was on the verge of orgasm. 

"Hold it, slave!" Ms. Vita said loudly. "I don't want you to cum until Ms. Margo says you may." 

Sergej continued to pump my mouth with his cock while Ms. Vita and Ms. Margo watched. The other two slaves watched, enthusiastic for their turn in my mouth. 

"When was the last time he came?" Ms. Margo asked Ms. Vita. 

"Two weeks ago, obviously, you can see, he's horny as hell and wants to blow his load." 

"Let's build it up, I want Petra to experience a nice big load for the first time." 

"Slave, stroke your cock and build it up, empty your balls," Ms. Vita commanded him. And so he did. 




Ms. Margo



In a moment he buried my head down to his balls, and while I held his hips, he pumped a flood of cum into my mouth and throat. When he finally released my head, I had tears in my eyes, it was so intense. The cum was immense in quantity, bitter and thick. 

"So, slave, how was your first blowjob?" Ms. Margo asked me. 

"Bitter," was all I could manage. 

"Who's next?" Ms. Margo asked of Ms. Vita. 

"Vitalij will take his mouth now," Ms. Vita said, lighting another cigarette with Ms. Margo. 

The second of Ms. Vita's slaves stepped forward. He was bigger than Sergej, longer and thicker, and he was much more aggressive than Sergej. He fucked my face roughly, harshly, and didn't wait for Ms. Vita or Ms. Margo to command him to cum. He came of his own accord. And filled my mouth with another load of hot, thick cum. 

"What a show!" Ms. Margo said, commenting on Vitalij's performance. "I can't wait for the finale. And we have so much more to do this evening. How long has Vitalij been dry?" That was obvious, he pumped a healthy load of cum into my mouth. 

"Three weeks," Ms. Vita said. "He was a very bad boy, so I've been holding him in punishment." 

"And what about Vasilij?" Ms. Margo asked. 

"Oh, he's been dry for five weeks now. I caught him trying to fuck a girl without my permission. So I have him on probation. His balls are so full he's going to cum at a glance! And he's big, he puts Sergej and Vitalij to shame, he's a real stud. And he cums like a fountain. Not to mention he has amazing recovery time. The others do, too, but not like Vasilij. Your pussy girl will get plenty of practice with Vasilij, and with my other slaveboys. 

"Let's get started then," Ms. Margo said. "Vasilij, step forward and enjoy my little slut Petra. She's yours for as long as you want." 

When Vasilij took his cock in his hand and it was directly in front of my face, my mouth, I was overwhelmed. He was big, very big. And he was just as dominant as Vitalij, if not more so. To begin with, he took my head in his hands, and fed me his cock. And then he held my head with both his hands. And he fucked my face. Even flaccid he was bigger than the other two hard. Probably eleven or twelve inches. And very thick. I was already crying by the time he was getting revved up and excited. He was very rough with me, as though I were his personal slave and fuckhole. When he finally blew his load, filling my mouth with cum, Ms. Margo and Ms. Vita were thrilled. 

"Wow! Such a nice load!" Ms. Margo noted. "He's so well hung, have you had him yourself?" 

"No, of course not," Ms. Vita said. "I don't fuck slaves, you know I only take men, not these boys." 

Ms. Margo and Ms. Vita sat on the couch and chatted while I waited, and Ms. Vita's slaves recovered. It seemed they were rearing for another go at my mouth, at least once more. 

And Ms. Margo indulged them, more than once. In fact, several times. She insisted I learn to suck cock on Vasiliyj in particular. She finally released me from my restraints on the ceiling and put me between his legs. I ended up sucking his cock about five times that afternoon and when he could no longer get hard, I sucked off Sergej and Vitalij till they were dry and couldn't get hard again. In all I must have given about 20 blowjobs that afternoon. By the time that Ms. Vita left with her boys, I was exhausted. 

After Ms. Margo saw them to the door, she allowed me to sit on the couch and relax my throbbing knees. I'd been on them for hours already. 

"So, how was your first taste of cock?" she asked me. 

"Which one?" I asked, a little bitter at her snide question. 

"Your choice, which was your favorite?" 

I didn't answer for a bit, a little embarrassed to declare one of them better than the other. But Vasilij was in fact my favorite. He was so nicely hung, so big and thick, and he had an enormous cockhead, on which to suck, although his foreskin was very substantial, too. But I loved the way he fucked my face and made me suck his cock. He was a very virile young man, and I wanted his cock more, to tell the truth. I wanted him more. 

Ms. Margo didn't wait anymore for an answer before she bitch-slapped me, knocking me off my knees. "I asked you a question!" 

"Vasilij," I said, after I got back on my knees. 

"Good choice," she said. "He's going to be your new cocksucker trainer. Now, this evening, we're going to a club, a gay club, and you're going to suck a lot of cock. Probably more than you sucked this afternoon. Get your makeup in order and get dressed, I have put what I want you to wear over there on the shelf." She handed me another ration of pills to take, watching me as I did so. 

I took the clothes and when I went to dress in the bathroom, Mistress Margo corrected me. 

"You can dress right here, what, now you're shy?" You've sucked cock all afternoon long, and you're about to go to a gay club and suck cock like there's no tomorrow, so relax, dress right here, bitch!" 

After returning from the shower I put on the bra with the breast forms that Ms. Margo had set there for me. I also put on the miniskirt after donning the stockings she chose. But her first order of business was to ensure I was tucked away and flat on my front, so as not to draw attention there. I put on the sweater she had laid out. I turned back to work on my makeup before she decided to help me. 

"You look very nice, slut," she told me. I took that as a compliment. "Let me help you with your makeup."

She did more than help, basically doing my makeup as she talked me through it. She also had some earrings for me. They were big hoop earrings. 

"Did you like sucking Vasilij's cock?" she asked me. 

I hesitated to answer, afraid of the truth. 

"You can tell me, it's OK, it's not a sin, whatever your answer," she said. "Answer me." 

"Yes, Ma'am." 

"He is handsome, isn't he?" she asked. I didn't know what to say. I didn't get that much time to look at much more than his cock. 

"Yes, Ma'am." I agreed, for lack of anything else to say. 

"Isn't girl-talk nice? We're going to have plenty of that this evening as we sit and enjoy each other's company in the club. By the way, you're going to smoke, naughty, slutty girls smoke, and thus you will do that, too. We'll get you a pack of smokes and a lighter on the way there." 

Ms. Margo called a cab and we went into the center to her gay club. I stayed behind her all the way, hoping to hide myself in anonymity as we found a place to sit down there. True to her word, she stopped at a kiosk on the way to the club and bought me a pack of long, thin cigarettes and a lighter. She handed them to me and told me to put them in my little clutch. There wasn't much else there except now the cigarettes and lighter, some lip gloss, lipstick and a little perfume, all that Ms. Margo had prepared for me herself. 

We entered the club, a little hole-in-the-wall from the outside, hardly visible to those who didn't know it for what it was. Inside it was dark and a bit smoky. The music was low and retro, but at least it wasn't going to blare you out of your seat, I thought. Ms. Margo took me to a small booth with a view of the whole room. There was a dance floor to the front with a DJ's booth off to the side. There was every variety of couples there, some obviously in drag, as was I. She ordered drinks for us and lit a cigarette while she waited. Taking her cue, I lit one myself, smoking tentatively, trying to imitate her fashion. 

She had ordered herself a Long-Island Iced Tea and for me a Cosmopolitan. She chided me to drink it, sip it, lady-like, not chug it like a drunk. I did as she said, being careful not to get sloppy drunk. The last thing I needed was to get drunk here, God knows what she had planned for me this evening. 

"What are you thinking about?" she asked me. 

"Nothing really, just wondering what's going to happen this evening," I said honestly. 

"Nothing that we haven't already discussed and that you didn't want to happen anyway," she said. "Relax, you asked for this, so enjoy the ride. How is your drink?" 

"Fine," I said, still apprehensive about what was to come this evening. To tell the truth I was a bit tired, jet lag had fully set in. But she couldn't have cared less.

She took a call on her cellphone and stepped away from the table to talk. I sat, a little nervous being by myself. Being in a gay club in Russia is not the wisest thing, especially for a foreigner. Gays were not a privileged group in Russia, by far. I felt some comfort with Ms. Margo at my side, but her stepping away, even a little bit, put me in a bit of a bad way. 

"Well, good news!" she said when she returned. "Ms. Vita is going to join us. And she's bringing someone for you," she winked. I could only wonder who that would be. I was loathe to admit it, but I hoped it was Vasilij. But he was probably still drained dry from this afternoon. I wondered what he thought of me. I realized I sounded like a silly girl. 

A young girl approached us and began talking to Ms. Margo. She was very tall and very buxom, with long, platinum blonde hair. She had an exotic look, a little Asian but European, as well. She was stunning and very beautiful. I couldn't hear what she was saying, as she spoke to her off to the side, away from me. After speaking with her, the girl sat down next to me. 

"Petra, this is Ilona," Ms. Margo explained. "Remember her from the salon?" I hadn't actually in the low light in the club, but now I did. "she's going to join us, why don't you get acquainted? You two have a lot in common, I think," she said with a laugh. 

"Hi," Ilona said to me, as she slid into the booth next to me. "Nice to see you again," she smiled. You look very nice! How are you?" She took a cigarette from her purse and lit it as she smiled at me. 

"Fine, nice to meet you," I said, wondering what Ms. Margo had meant. 

"Is this your first time? Here, I mean?" she asked. 

"Yes, Ms. Margo brought me here, I've never been here." 

"It's a nice club, nice music, nice people. It's nice to get to sit down for girl-chat," she said sincerely. 

Soon the waitress brought a drink for Ilona that Ms. Margo had ordered for her. 

"Your nails are holding up well," she commented, holding my hand in hers. "Are you satisfied with them?" 

"Yes, thank you," I said awkwardly. "I love your long hair, it's lovely," I said, trying to offer a compliment in return. 

About that time Ms. Vita showed up with another lady. It seemed my fantasy of seeing Vasilij were all for naught. Whatever. Ilona was in my company and I enjoyed it, she was a very pleasant girl. Things were no worse for wear. 

Ms. Margo ordered another round of drinks after introducing me to Ms. Vita's friend, Lana. I turned my attention back to Ilona and she and I lit up as we enjoyed our fresh drinks. 

I was surprised when two young men approached us and asked Ilona and me to dance. I had no idea what to do and looked to Ms. Margo. She urged me on, telling me to go and enjoy. I went with the man that asked me and Ilona took her man together with me to the dance floor. He took me in his arms and led me slowly on the dance floor. He was much taller than me. He was handsome, I had to admit that. And he was very strong, I felt his muscles as I held him while we danced. I asked him what his name was as we danced. 

"Lyosha," he answered. "And you?" 

"Petra," remembering the name Ms. Margo had given me upon my arrival. The song was relatively slow, so we danced slowly and closely. We danced a second number, another slow one, before I returned to our table, Ilona also parting with her dance partner. 

"So how was your man?" Ilona asked, lighting another cigarette. I joined her in lighting up. 

I blushed at her question. "He's very nice, his name is Lyosha," I answered quietly. "And what about yours?"

"Oleg," she answered. "I've seen them here before." she winked. "They very nice men, if you know what I mean." 

I really didn't know what she meant. But I wasn't going to ask, I let that question lie in peace. We continued our chat, another round of drinks and another dance came and went with our men before Ilona asked me if I could go with her to the ladies room. 

I agreed, or course, but Ms. Margo grabbed me before I left the table. 

"Remember, you squat to pee, you're a girl now," she said coldly. "Behave yourself," she added. 

Ilona took my hand and we walked to the ladies' room. As it turned out, in this club, there was only one restroom, where everyone went. There were stalls and there were urinals. I took a stall, remembering Ms. Margo's words. After I finished peeing and pulling up my panties, tucking everything away, the door to the stall opened and there stood Lyosha. He sat me back down and closed the door and locked it behind him. He pulled out his cock and held in front of my face. 

"Suck me off, bitch," was all he said to me. 

I didn't know what else to do, given the situation, so I took him in my hand and kissed his cockhead, and then I gave him head. I stroked him as I sucked, and scratched his balls with the long nails on my other hand. He held my head in his hands, guiding me as I gave him head. It wasn't long before he was pumping my mouth hard, ready to cum. It seemed he hadn't had a blowjob in quite some time. And he came vigorously, with a loud roar. His cum was bitter, with an aftertaste of alcohol. 

He zipped up and left my stall without so much as a thank you. I pulled down my skirt and left the stall, looking for Ilona, but she was nowhere to be found. I walked back quickly to our booth, a little scared at what had happened. Ilona was already sitting there, with a knowing grin on her face. She allowed me to slip in the booth so I was between her and Ms. Margo. 

Ms. Margo turned to me and scolded me. "Slut, wipe the cum off your lips and fix your lipstick, every man here now knows what you did in the john!" 

I quickly did as she said, Ilona laughing, having heard what she said. 

"So, how was he?" she asked. 

"Nice," I said, blushing. "Big." He was big, not Vasilij big, but he was nicely hung, and he had nice full balls and very hairy. I would suck his cock with pleasure again, if he wanted. And I did hope he wanted another blowjob from me. But I was too shy to ask him myself. I hoped he approached me for it again. 

"Well, it sounded like he came like a lion, you must have done something right," she laughed. "Let's order another drink, and give me another cigarette, please." 

I slid the pack of cigarettes to her and she offered me one. Fresh drinks came again and we enjoyed them, which I welcomed, trying to wash the taste of my man's cum out of my mouth. While Vasilij's cum wasn't honey, it was far better than the bitter taste of Lyosha's. 

The effects of the alcohol and nicotine took their toll. Soon I was feeling no pain, nor were Ms. Margo or Ilona. Ms. Vita and her friend Lana didn't seem to be suffering, either. After a couple of more drinks, Ilona asked me to the bathroom again. But instead of going into a stall alone, she took me into one with her. She sat me down and pulled up her skirt, revealing her cock. 

"Suck me like you sucked Lyosha," she said dominantly. "I want to cum like him in your mouth." 

I opened my eyes wide in shock. I had no idea she was a tranny. I looked up at her. She had a big grin on her face, recognizing my surprise. She put her hand on the back of my head and pulled it down impatiently. 

I took her cock in my mouth. She had a very lovely cock, very thick but not too long. Her balls were shaved smooth but she had a nice manicured little bush at the base of her cock. Perfect for sucking. And she enjoyed it. I wondered when she had cum the last time, and how much cum she was going to fill my mouth with. It wasn't long before she rewarded me with her treat, gently stroking my head as she pumped my mouth. A long stream of thick, hot cum filled my mouth. She held my head as she orgasmed, autonomically bucking her hips and pumping her cock in my mouth as she did. 

"Thank you, Sweetie, I really needed that," she said, stroking my head affectionately. "You are a very sweet cocksucker. But don't expect any return. I don't bottom, I'm a top, you understand?" 

"Yes, Ma'am," I said, realizing she was going to dominate me. 

"Good," she sighed, still in afterglow from her orgasm. "I'm going to need one more like that before we leave tonight, OK?" 

"Yes, Ma'am," I agreed. 

Ilona took me by my hand after she took a piss and we returned to the table. Unlike me, she stood at the urinal, pissing like a man, very unladylike. I had the wherewithal to check my face in the mirror before we left the restroom. No cum on my lips or face. 

When we sat down Ms. Margo turned to me. "Everything OK, slut?" she had a knowing smile on her face. "Enjoying your new girlfriend?" 

"Yes Ma'am," I said, smiling and blushing at the same time. "Ilona's very nice, do you know her from somewhere other than the salon?" I asked. 

"Yes, she's an old friend. I thought you might like to meet her. Enjoy her company, you can see her again, if you like. But don't forget, Mikhail is coming tomorrow. You have to decide, do you want him or Ilona." 

"Does Ilona know about him?" I asked, not completely understanding the circumstances. 

"Yes, she does. She knows Mikhail very well. As will you. But the decision point comes after tomorrow. But there's no rush. But you can have only one, not both. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Good, now, don't ignore your girlfriend, I have things to talk about with Vita and Lana. Behave." 

I turned back to Ilona, who had been waiting patiently for me, smoking and enjoying her drink while Ms. Margo spoke to me. I put my hand on her thigh, stroking and scratching lightly. 

"Do you want to suck my cock again already?" she laughed. 

"If you want it, yes," I said, blushing bashfully. 

"Let's wait a bit, I'll take you to the ladies' room in a bit, let's enjoy our drinks and a cigarette, OK?" 

"Yes, Ma'am." 

"Good girl," she agreed. "I want to do your makeup and hair for you from now on. May I come by tomorrow to see you? I know you have a special evening tomorrow, I'd like to do something for you." 

"Yes, if you like, I would like that." I welcomed her attention. I really liked her, she was vibrant and outgoing. 

"Good, I like making beautiful things and I think I can do some good things for you, Dear. I want to teach you how to do nails, too, so you can take care of me, too," she smiled affectionately. "Would you like that?"

"Yes, that would be nice." 

"Good, let's have another drink and a cigarette, and then I want to take you to the ladies' room," she winked with a wicked smile. We continued to chat, drink and smoke together. I was becoming all the more fond of Ilona. She was a sweet young lady, it seemed. But I cautioned myself, that maybe this wasn't all it seemed. Not everybody was as honest as they appeared in this part of the world. But I hoped she was sincere. 

After she finished her cigarette, Ilona invited me to the ladies' room. I followed her, my hand in hers. I wondered what Ms. Margo thought of all this, but maybe this was her plan. She led me into a booth, but instead of letting me sit this time, she took a seat on the stool herself, and put me on my knees in front of her. She pulled up her skirt and pulled out her cock. It was already semi-erect. 

"Suck my cock, girlfriend," she said, holding her thick shaft in one hand and pushing my head down with the other. As I sucked her cock, she talked dirty to me, telling me what a slutty cocksucker and whore I was for her. 

"Ms. Margo wanted to whore you out to every man in this club, but when I saw you, I texted her, and asked her to let me have you. I know you have to be with Mikhail tomorrow, but I'm hoping you'll choose me instead of him. I want to be a couple with you, if you're interested. But nonetheless, you're going to suck my cock to perfection right now, and at least once more, before you leave this club. Do you understand me?"




Ms. Margo



I really couldn't speak with her cock in my mouth, but I mumbled "yes" as she bobbed my head on her cock. 

"Good girl," she said, aggressively bobbing my head now. "You are such a sweet cocksucker, so good. I'm so lucky to have found you. We have so much to talk about, but not tonight, another time. I think you want to be with me, don't you? I need a sissy girl like you, you're just what I've been looking for. Now suck my cock, I need to cum."

With that she became silent and worked me on her cock. Before long she was breathing heavy and exhaled and moaned hard. A thick stream of cum hit the back of my throat and filled my mouth. She held my head firmly as she pumped her cum into me. I massaged and scratched her balls as she did so, working all her cum from them, and at the same time stroked her shaft. 

"Oh, you are such a sweet cocksucker!" she said, exhilarated obviously from her orgasm. "Clean my cock, and then let's go get another drink." 

I tried to kiss her as we stood. 

"I don't kiss cocksuckers, Sweetie," she scolded me. "I don't suck cock and I don't eat cum, don't ever try to kiss me after giving me a blowjob, do you understand me?" 

"Yes, Ma'am." I was a little hurt, I wanted to kiss her affectionately. 

She took my hand and led me back to our booth. She ordered us drinks before she took another cigarette from my pack. 

"I know Ms. Margo doesn't allow you to have your cellphone, but I will call Ms. Margo and I'll be by in the afternoon to help you get ready. If you prefer Mikhail, that's your choice, but I hope you will choose me. But you have to choose. OK?" 

"Yes, Ma'am." 

"I like that you are submissive, it's a must with me. I need a submissive little girl like you. I've been looking for someone like you for a long time, not to mention you're very cute." 

Ilona and I sat close to one another, while Ms. Margo, Vita and Lana chatted. I had no idea what time it was but it must have been very late, or rather, very early. Ilona told me about her stylist business, what she planned to do and how she had plans to open her own salon. 

"Maybe you'd like to be a stylist with me," she suggested. "Or is this just a fling for you? Something tells me you belong in this role, I hope it's not just a fling. I want you to be mine," she said forcefully. 

I thought about what she said. I was drawn to her, but I wasn't sure this was me. "I'm not sure yet," I said honestly. 

"That's OK, I know this is a big change for you, but I think you're in your place now, but we'll talk about this in a couple of days, after you've been with Mikhail and Ms. Margo continues your training. Your training is important, listen to Ms. Margo, she knows what she's talking about. I also expect you to behave with me as you would with her. She trained me, by the way. I am who I am because of her." 

"What do you mean?" I asked, very curiously. "How did she train you?"

"Well," she began, lighting another cigarette and motioning the waitress for more drinks, "I was much like you, she took me in and transformed me. And I'm better for it. She recognized in me who I really was. More or less, but what she didn't realize initially is that I'm more dominant than submissive, so that's why I haven't had the surgery and don't take hormones. I don't want to get rid of my cock. But we'll talk about that later. Down the road. I am at peace with myself, I'm comfortable with me and who I am. I like myself, and that's the most important thing. And you should find the same thing. I hope it's with me." 

I didn't say anything in response, taking it all in, and lighting a cigarette, well, she lit it for me. Obviously she saw me as her girl. And I didn't entirely mind that. 

"I love your heels, by the way," she commented. "They are very beautiful and sexy. Do you have any others?"

"Just one other pair," I answered. 

"Maybe we could go shopping together," she suggested. "It would be fun, we don't necessarily have to buy anything, but I want to know your style, and show you mine, OK?" 

"I would love that," I answered sincerely. "But it would be nice to buy you something, but Ms. Margo has all my money and stuff." 

"I know, of course she does. Don't worry, we'll figure something out. We can at least look at clothes and try things on, OK? It will be fun. Now, get under the table here, I don't want to take you to the bathroom again for a blowjob, I want you to suck my cock right here."

I slipped under the table and she fed me her cock from her panties after sliding up her skirt. I took her cock in my mouth and sucked her with pleasure, slowly until she eventually rewarded me with a nice load of cum. She pulled me up from underneath the table after I was finished. 

"Thank you, Sweetie, that was nice, you are truly such a sweet cocksucker," she cooed. "When was the last time you came?"

"Almost a week ago," I said. 

"Well, pretty soon, you won't have to worry about that, if you are my girl," she answered cryptically. 

Ms. Margo turned to me and told me to gather my things, as we were going back to her apartment. I said my goodbye to Ilona and wondered how I would hear from her from now on, but since she was a friend of Ms. Margo's, I expected I would hear through her. 

As we sat in the cab on the way home, Ms. Margo turned to me. "So, I see you and Ilona hit it off," she remarked. "She likes you a lot, I can tell." 

"She's a nice girl, I like her, too," I offered. "I hope I can see her again, if you allow it." 

"You certainly can, but you have to see Mikhail this evening, and then we'll see what happens then." 

When we arrived Ms. Margo began talking to the driver. She claimed she did not have money for the fare. 

"You'll have to blow the driver for our fare, slut," she said. "Get out and get on your knees." 

The driver was about 50, fat, and judging from the aroma in the cab, had not had a bath or shower in some time. But it didn't seem I had much choice if we wanted to escape to her apartment. He pulled his cock out and rubbed it across my lips. I opened my mouth and he shoved it in. I sucked him hard, trying to get this over with as soon as possible. He got hard very quickly, and as I sucked him he quickly rose to his orgasm, pulsing a thick shot of cum down my throat before he withdrew his cock. He sat back down in his cab, leaving me there on my knees with his cum on my breath. 

"Let's go, slut," Ms. Margo said once he had pulled away. She took me inside to her apartment and before she let me go to sleep she rode my face, first pissing in my mouth and then getting herself off. She rode my face for a long time before she pushed me away and went to sleep. 

It was afternoon before we both awoke. Ms. Margo was already behind her laptop in the kitchen when I went in for water. She told me to have a drink with her and a cigarette before I showered and we got me ready for my meeting with Mikhail. 

"He's already called to see if everything is on schedule," she mentioned. "He's looking forward to meeting you. I'm guessing he hasn't had a good blowjob in a few weeks, so you're in for a treat," she laughed wickedly. "Are you ready?" 

I sat next to her in my robe and panties, my bra still with the inserts in them. "Yes, I want to suck his cock dry," I said. 

"Well, you've certainly come into your role, haven't you? What a little slut you are now!" she laughed. 

"I guess I am who I am, Mistress." 

"Good. Now, let's finish our drink and smoke, then let's get you ready for your date this evening. Ilona will be here to help you with hair and makeup."

True to her word, Ilona arrived as promised, just a few minutes after Ms. Margo had mentioned her. 

"Hi, girlfriend! Ready for your big evening?" she was full of energy and excitement. It was contagious. 

"I'm glad to see you, yes, with your help, I'll be ready." I was indeed glad to see her. She was fast becoming someone I really wanted to know better. 

"Good answer," she smiled. She lit a cigarette and Ms. Margo told me to get her a drink as well as one for Ilona, one for myself if I wanted. After I served drinks Ilona sat me down at the kitchen table and did my makeup for me. She really did have talent for this. She talked to me as she worked about how she'd like to style my hair, letting it grow out some more, and how she'd like to do my nails. 

When Ilona finished my makeup and styling my hair a little, she presented me to Ms. Margo. 

"Well, you look delicious, all ready for Mikhail. But there is something we have to do first." 

I waited for her answer. 

"I need to fuck your pussy, slut," she announced. "I've been waiting for that forever. So go in the bedroom and get on your hands and knees. I want to break you in before Mikhail has you." 

I did as she said, kneeling on all fours and waited for her. She came up behind me, after donning her strapon. First she took her cock in her hand, rubbing it up the crack of my ass, before she put some cold gel on it to work it in my sluthole. She took pleasure in the whole process, she was not in a hurry. 

"Do I need to tie you down or are you ready for this?" she asked. 

"Your choice, Mistress," I answered. I actually would have preferred that she tied me down and just raped me, but I was ashamed to admit that. 

"Then I'll tie you up, because I want to have your pussy very well." She put restraints on my wrists and pulled them back to my ankles, securing them so that my face was on the bed and my ass high and vulnerable in the air. She moved back behind me and took my ass in her hands, spreading my cheeks. She took her cock in her hand and rubbed it around my rosebud. 

"Relax, if you tense up, it's only going to be worse for you," she warned me. 

I tried to relax, but I was anxious. Her cock was big, probably too big for my virgin ass. Before I knew it, she had stabbed it in me, and she wasn't shy about it. She drove it all the way home, the whole shaft. I exhaled and screamed a little as she did so. Ilona watched the whole scene, smoking, with a naughty grin on her face. 

"Relax! Just take it, slut, you'd better get used to it, Mikhail or Ilona, one or the other is going to fuck you like this sooner or later. Who's bitch do you want to be? Well, you haven't met Mikhail yet, but I'm thinking your Ilona's little girl, aren't you? There's nothing wrong with that, two sissies, one dominant, one submissive, how sweet! But maybe you'd prefer to be the wife of a real man, like Mikhail. He has a beautiful cock, just wonderful. He's fucked me a few times, and it was fantastic. He's a real man. Maybe Ilona might share you with him." 

Mistress continued to talk to me and regale Mikhail's and Ilona's virtues as she tore up my ass, fucking me mercilessly. I don't know how long she took me, but by the time she was finally finished, I was sore and exhausted. I wondered how I would have the energy to serve Mikhail this evening. She pulled out of me and sent me to the bathroom to wash my ass after she undid my restraints. 

I returned and dressed in the clothes she had laid out for me. 

"Go and prepare some snacks for Mikhail while I go and buy some drinks for us," Mistress said. "We have about an hour before he will be here. Get to work, slut!" 

I went to the kitchen and did as she said, preparing some slices of cheese, pickles and some toasted bread. Ilona joined me there, not really helping, but keeping me company. I didn't know what else to do, given what was in the fridge. I sat and waited in the kitchen for Mistress to return. I had a cigarette while I waited, chatting with Ilona. As I waited, I realized things had not turned out entirely as I had expected on this journey, but I was not entirely disappointed. Things were going well, I just had no idea where this was going from here. Maybe this evening would tell me more. 

When Mistress returned she had three bottles of champagne and two bottles of vodka. She had a few other things, cheese and kolbasa along with some other supplies for her apartment. Ilona took the opportunity to leave, not wanting to impose on the evening. She promised to call me tomorrow or stop by. 

"Slut, Mikhail will be here in half an hour, so get ready," she said harshly. "Don't disappoint him, you will regret that. Go and make sure everything is ready. Put the champagne and three glasses on a tray, as well as a bottle of the vodka and three shot glasses. Leave the snacks in the refrigerator until he arrives."

I did as Mistress said and returned to her. I lit another cigarette, a little nervous while waiting for him. 

And then he was there. Mistress sent me to the door to welcome him. I was a little embarrassed and shy, but I had to do what she said, nonetheless. 

I opened the door to find a very tall man, about 45, and quite handsome, in glasses. He was obviously intelligent and very self-confident. 

"Well, this must be Petra, of whom I've heard so much," he said as I stood in the doorway. I motioned him into the apartment, at a loss for my voice. I followed behind him. 

"Take his coat for him," Ms. Margo said. I reached upward to his shoulders. Even in my six-inch heels, Mikhail was taller than me. I bashfully wondered what kind of cock he had. Mistress had told me he was nicely hung, but nothing too specific. I took his coat and hung it up for him and at Mistress' command turned to the kitchen to bring the tray with everything on it, adding the snacks from the fridge. 

When I returned to the sitting room, Ms. Margo and Mikhail were already seated on the couch, getting comfortable. I set everything on the coffee table in front of them. 

"Well, Petra, you are as sexy and desirable as Margo predicted," Mikhail said. 

I blushed and thanked him, taking a cigarette from my pack. Mikhail was gracious enough to light it for me, as well as Ms. Margo's. 

He turned his attention to Ms. Margo, chatting with her and obviously letting me know that I was a slave in his eyes, not for intellectual conversation. He opened the vodka and the champagne and poured glasses for all of us. He offered a toast of vodka to our meeting. But he took his time before he turned his attention back to me. 

"So," he said, finally turning to me again, "why don't we get started?" As he said so, he spread his legs a bit and leaned back, relaxing even more. I looked at Ms. Margo, not sure what to do. 

"On your knees, slut," she said, "take care of our guest." 

I dropped to my knees between his legs. I was still smoking but Ms. Margo told me I could do this and smoke at the same time. 

I didn't know exactly what to do, having never been in this sort of situation before. Ms. Margo noticed my hesitance and guided me, verbally. 

"Open his fly and take out his cock," she said, rather impatiently. 

I did as she said, unzipping Mikhail's fly and reaching inside his pants for his cock. I was rewarded with a very long, thick cock, one that would rival Vasilij's though not quite as long, but every bit as thick. And he had an enormous cockhead, with a very generous amount of foreskin on it. I held it in my hand for a moment, mesmerized by it, looking at it, and I had already began to stroke it, probably a subconscious reaction to having it in my hand. After a moment, Mikhail put his hand on the back of my head and he pulled me forward to take him in my mouth. I did so with gusto, and I sucked his cock enthusiastically. 

I stroked his shaft and scratched his balls, after he pulled down his pants so I could get to them. He was quite hairy, with a thick matte of long, dark hair, some salt and pepper, too, from his balls all the way to his neckline, and he had a lovely musk. I bobbed my head on him eagerly, conjuring him towards a powerful orgasm, one I hoped and longed for. Before long he began to forcefully push my head down on his cock, talking dirty to me, telling me to suck his cock and make him cum. 

Soon I was rewarded with a tremendous load of cum. I wondered when he had cum the last time. It was almost as much as what Vasilij had given me the first time. It was bitter and thick, not as bad as the guy's in the gay club, Lyosha, but still not very tasty. I struggled to swallow it all as I continued to bob and suck his cock. When I had it all out of his balls, I leaned back, taking his cock out of my mouth. I was too bashful to look him in the eye. 

"Well, she is as lovely as you promised, Margo," Mikhail said, his cock laying flaccid on his thigh now. "I can't wait to take her pussy. But I think before that I want another blowjob. Let's have a shot and a glass of champagne." 

I had no idea what we were toasting but perhaps it was my first blowjob for him. Regardless, the vodka was welcome. His cum was not so tasty, not nearly as much as Ilona's. While I sat and waited, I touched up my lipstick and makeup while Mikhail and Ms. Margo chatted. I kept their flutes fill with champagne and also the shot glasses filled, should someone want to do a shot. I lit a cigarette and waited for what might come next. After a couple of shots and a glass of champagne, Mikhail was ready for another blowjob. 

I dropped to my knees again between his legs and took his cock in my hand gently. The only thing Ms. Margo said this time was to look him in the eye as I blew him. That made me blush. Mikhail kept his hand on the back of my head, as before. Looking up at him, it drove home the fact that I was a cocksucker. And not just a cocksucker, but a sissy, too. I wondered what he had in mind for me, if anything, beyond this. But something told me this wasn't the end of the road with him. 

It took him longer to cum this time, but I wasn't in a hurry. It was a pleasure to suck his cock, and I relished it, trying not to hurry him but trying at the same time to give him maximum pleasure. I wanted him to come hard, whenever it came about. And he did, grunting and pushing hard down on the back of my head as he did. Although he didn't cum in the volume as before, he still had a good nut and he bucked his hips as he did cum, punching his cockhead into the back of my throat as he did so. I held his shaft with one hand and his hip with the other as his orgasm washed over him. I sucked him hard at the same time, until the sensation was too much for him. I continued to hold his shaft in my hand and gently stroke him as he came down from his orgasm.

"Very nice, she's a sweet cocksucker, Margo," Mikhail said about me. "How is her pussy?"

"Very tight, that's going to be an experience for both of you, I think, she said mirthfully. 

"Well, I would prefer to take her home for that, if you don't mind." 

"By all means, she is yours if you want. Use her as long as you want, as you wish." 

"Would you mind if I shared her with some friends?" he asked. 

"Not at all, as I said, she's yours, do with her as you wish," she answered. 

I became a little nervous at hearing this. I wondered what Mikhail had in mind. But Ms. Margo had assured me he was a gentleman and I would be safe in his hands. But the idea of being whored out, at least if I understood him, was a little alarming. 

"Good, it's getting late, why don't we have another drink before I take her home with me?" 

I poured drinks for all and Mikhail lit my cigarette for me while we relaxed. He chatted with Ms. Margo while they finished their drinks. I drank mine quickly, to wash the taste of his bitter cum out of my mouth. When they had finished their drinks, Mikhail stood and pulled up his pants. 

"Well, I think I'll take your slavegirl with me and try her out," he said as he stood. I was in nothing but lingerie, with my stockings, heels and my bra and breast forms. I had a terrified look on my face. Mistress seemed to recognize my consternation. 

"You don't need anything, you're going straight to Mihail's, you just need a coat and your clutch. It's not like he's going to take you to a restaurant or anything, slut." 




Ms. Marlow's Instrument of Agreement



I guess I took advantage of her, but when I saw her that day spanking that child over her knee, I knew I needed her help. 

I had been a not so happily married man for three years at this point. My wife was pretty and dutiful and moved in all the right social circles, but she had proved to be a sexual martyr in the bedroom, lying there under me each night with her legs spread and her eyes closed waiting for it all to end. We had one child who was in the stage of the troublesome twos as they called it and I was feeling the house we lived in closing in on me. You see I'm a writer of fiction and spend most of my time in the back room pounding away at my Underwood typewriter. The room has a grand view of our backyard and rose garden and even of our neighbors yard. 

It was from my open window there that I saw her for the first time sternly directing the children in her charge as she hung laundry. She had her dark hair pulled up in a tight bun as is the style and her white blouse and full-length skirt were impeccable. She wasn't pretty, but her face had a certain homely appeal. She was a maid and nanny it seemed, doing the housework and minding the little ones of our neighbor. Their home was quite a bit larger than ours and they liked to put on airs as did others on our block. So these live-in maids were common to see, wringing out the laundry and sweeping the porches. 

One day as I sat at my desk I heard a commotion over there. It seems the boy had decided to kick up a fuss and this nanny, from her tone, was going to put up with none of it. I craned my neck and saw her as she walked the boy of six or seven out to a bench under the willow tree, a paddle held in her right hand. The boy tried to get away as she pulled him down over her knee, but she handled him with surprising ease and was soon placing the wood against his backside with somewhat more than measured force. The lad was soon balling out his contrite tears as his younger brother and sister looked on. But what struck me the most about this penal demonstration was the agility of this maid's use of force. She had, no doubt, paddled hundreds of backsides in her day and was a firm believer in the hierarchy of power and authority. I understood exactly how she felt and agreed with her view. The world was indeed controlled by the delivery of pain and pleasure. 

That night as I penetrated my wife, the image of this maid came to my mind again and again. I saw the calm sternness of her face as she paddled the child to teach him the most important lesson in life. Domination and obedience had to be held above all. She had learned that as a child and so had I. My wife had learned that lesson too. This was what kept her wet each night as my manhood delved into her. But for some reason she had decided to spoil our son and not teach him his proper place in the order. I began to push into her more forcefully as I searched for a way to fix this problem.

The next day I decided the best solution was to bring this maid to our house. I wracked my brain trying to think of a discreet way to approach her. Finally I came up with the plan of throwing my son's ball into their yard to initiate a conversation. My goal was to somehow get her away from our neighbor by obtaining some information about her. After all, our son was in need of a good authority figure during the day when my wife was out socializing and our house also needed the attentions of a good cleaner. But I had to be careful not to breach the social protocol. It was going to be a delicate maneuver.

That afternoon I tossed my son's red ball over to their side and began to call politely for some assistance. She appeared not too long afterward drying her hands with a dish towel.

"Hello! My son seems to have launched his ball onto your property!" I said smiling.

She walked out into the yard and scanned the property.

"Is this it?" she asked pointing. 

"Yes! yes! The boy's got quite a foot!" I replied peering over the white plank fence.

As she picked it up and walked over to me, I was impressed by the health and size of her physique. I tried to look for something in her face that would give me an opening, but the mouth was firm and set. She handed the ball over to me.

"Thanks, my name is John Oliver. It's nice to meet you." I said.

"I'm Miss Marlow. It's a pleasure to meet you as well, sir."

"I was wondering," I continued, "do you know of a good agency in town where I could find a caretaker for my son?"

"Well, I work for the Brockton Agency and they do have caretakers available there." she replied.

"Oh good, I'll try them. Thanks!" I said.

The corners of her mouth came up only slightly at this point.

"You're welcome, sir." she replied before heading back in.

Later that day I went to the agency and made it quite clear I wanted Miss Marlow and only Miss Marlow as the caretaker for my son. I told them I was willing to pay their highest fee for her services and that it would only involve light cleaning duties. It took a month but the agency eventually convinced her of the wisdom of this move and had her report to me for work early one Monday. She seemed a bit uneasy when I met her at the door.

"Good morning, sir." she said, "I'm here to start today."

I acted surprised since I had told the agency not to inform her I had requested her specifically. I showed her to her room and then introduced her to my son.

"This is my son, David." I told her as he ran past us screaming in the hall.

She watched him and nodded.

"He's a good-looking child." she said.

"Yes, but he's a wild one." I replied.

"That's fine, we'll have him adjusted soon enough." she said.

In the weeks that followed I got to listen as she set about housecleaning and looking after the child. I heard bellows from the boy as she imposed her will on him day by day. There were terrible screams and tantrums until one day I heard the sound of her palm colliding forcefully against his backside as he wailed. Hearing the whole process of the confrontation excited me. Miss Marlow was now here in my house administering discipline where it was badly needed, as she had next door. That's how the world worked, in a chain of authority moved by power and money. Miss Marlow, though I doubt she ever thought of herself this way, was in fact, a mercenary and a loyal servant to the ideology of pain. 

After a month my son was, for the most part, tamed and out of diapers since not using the toilet brought the hardest spankings. Gone were the baby bottles and security blankets as well. When she caught him running in the house she yanked down his under shorts and reddened his rear end on the spot. The house was also brought up to a high standard of cleanliness and I was free to work at my leisure with no more interruptions.

Then one day I walked into the back room and found Miss Marlow standing there enjoying the view from my window. She didn't turn or address me when I entered.

"Is there something you needed, Miss Marlow?" 

"I was just noticing what a fine view you have from this window, sir?" she replied without turning.

"Ah yes, it helps me when I write to have fresh air and good scenery." I said.

"There was just one thing I wanted to speak to you about." she continued.

"Oh, what was that?" I asked with trepidation.

"Well sir, it's the messes you make in the kitchen and also the condition you leave this room in."

I stared at her in disbelief for a minute.

"But Miss Marlow, that was the reason I hired you." I replied.

"Yes sir, you hired me to keep order and that's what I plan to do." she said.

"I'm not sure what you're saying." I replied.

"From now on this room stays clean and the kitchen is out of bounds." she proclaimed.

"What?!"

"Do you need me to tell you again, sir?"

"Miss Marlow, may I remind you that I'm the one who is paying your salary?" I asserted.

"Yes sir, and I plan to perform my job without hindrance."

I stood there amazed by this sudden shift. 

"Are we in agreement or do I need to convince you in another way?" she asked.

"Another way? Miss Marlow, what are you talking about?" I queried.

"Okay." she said before turning and walking out of the room.

"Miss Marlow?" I called after her quizzically.

But a moment later she returned with a paddle in her hand, the same paddle she had used on the boy next door.

"What's this!?" I said startled.

"This is the instrument of agreement, sir." she announced flatly.

At that moment I understood what had happened. She had seen my vantage point from the window into her former employer's back yard and figured out why she had been hired. My body became weak.

"Look, I think you're a bit confused here, Miss Marlow."

"Sir, she said, "can you kneel on the couch for me and slide your trousers and undergarments down."

My face and entire body flushed with heat after this, but oddly I felt myself obligated to follow her instructions. I moved hesitantly toward the couch but continued to try and bargain with her.

"I'm the adult here, Miss Marlow, and adults can be reasoned with." I insisted.

"Please drop your trousers, sir." she ordered coolly.

I complied and assumed a kneeling position on the couch, my elbows atop the back cushion. She then tugged my undergarment down exposing me completely. After this she took the paddle in two hands and squared herself to me. 

The first blow landed with such force it sent my eyeglasses flying to the floor. The pain radiated hotly across my gluteal area and the force sent tremors rippling through my torso. The second blow hurt even more and caused my exposed testicles to swing out wildly.

"Okay! You've made your point!" I shouted, "I'll stay out of the kitchen and keep this room spotless!"

"Yes you will." was all she said before leaning back and delivering the next blow.

This one landed flatly and might have been heard around the block. I let out a loud cry, but then realized my bottom half was becoming strangely aroused.

The fourth blow was less painful and more playful to my senses as was each successive blow afterwards. It was then that I realized Miss Marlow understood as much about my psychology as I understood about hers. I needed to feel the mastery of a strong woman as she needed my tears of submission and contrition. So I decided to give her what she needed.

I began to ball like a child, even though the blows against my naked and numb backside were more humiliation now than anything else. Miss Marlow ended my punishment and pulled my undergarment back up after this.

"I hope you've learned your lesson about being a sloppy boy!" she said, placing the paddle on my desk.

That night as I penetrated my listless wife my swollen posterior wouldn't let me forget the spanking I'd received earlier. I wondered what Miss Marlow was doing in her bed at that moment. And as I thought of her possibly fingering herself I became so excited I pulled out of my wife and ejaculated in several strong blasts onto her unwitting face. Her disgust afterwards made the experience all the better for me.

In the months that followed, my son and I were both brought into complete agreement with Miss Marlow on all matters by her paddle of persuasion. My spankings came everyday at noon and I made sure I cried out loudly for her. This seemed to be the only thing she needed to get emotional and sexual gratification since there was never a day that she didn't see my erect penis hanging down openly before her. The idea that I was ostensibly paying her to beat me was enough for her apparently along with the fact that she became the head of the household every time my naked backside was presented to her.