26 comments/ 9165 views/ 10 favorites An Intricate Weaving Pt. 01 By: next2ArchStanton Hi there and happy New Year to every one of you avid readers of erotica. Now, as usual I warn all of you who hate my style and are offended by my tales. STOP HERE... STOP NOW!! I find it humorous that you keep reading my shit (are you still reading now?) and that you are still posting your mad rants. Why...? Do you secretly like cuckold themed stories about hot wives and crazed husbands? Is this your dirty, secret little fetish and are you afraid to admit it? Is that why you post the abuse? It's called denial... so stop being a pussy and admit it. Now you can read on, because you feel better inside having admitted that truth. So... having hopefully dismissed the abusers, let's move on. As usual this fictional piece is out of the box, so I will warn you in advance. If you liked Triple Treats then you should like this one. The one thing I might suggest you do is grab a drink, sit down, take off your monogamous hat and hang on tight. This one will certainly challenge. I would wish you all the best, and too all of my friends out there... happy reading. P.S. I'm still desperately in need of an editor. I apologize in advance for my woeful short comings in this arena. If you can help, let me know. **** AN INTRICATE WEAVING. My lover, his wife, her lover our spouses and me. A fiction by Arch Stanton. copyright 2015. **** Prelude. "Dion's coming over. Do we have any of that nice wine?" "Sure baby, I picked up two bottles yesterday." My reply was a simple and autonomous reaction to a somewhat perceived innocently presented statement of inquiry, but a cold shiver crawled up my spine like some creepy Ipsy Wipsy spider was scaling a rusted water spout bolted to my vertebra. "That's great honey." Lucy floated into the room like some flame red haired Tinkerbell and twirled before me. "You like?" Shit, what wasn't there to like? 5'4" of perfectly formed fairy, freckle dusted in radiance. Her light weight floral summer dress flowered out like a parasol and those goddamned gorgeous legs flittered like a trained ballerina's. The lustrous red hair bounced about her shoulders and shimmered with the hue of a Martian sunset. "You look gorgeous baby." Okay, so I gushed slightly. My fiancée smiled shyly and blinked. "Do you think Mr Deneuve will approve?" The spider purposely feathered my neck with his hairy chin. I could only nod; words were log jammed in my throat. "Oh honey, you need to get over this. We've talked about your insecurities... the jealousy. You knew the rules when we decided to date." Lucy glided in and wrapped her perfectness tightly about me. I gasped as the expiration of the compressed air caught in my seized lungs hissed noisily, attempting to combat my desperate desire to swallow. The gasp was more a gurgle. "Now, I want you to be on your bestest behavior young man." She pulled back and smiled slyly. This was normal fare, her treating me like a child when I got all possessive and anxious. "Mr Deneuve will have a glass of wine, we'll chat for a bit and then we'll head off to the bedroom." She touched her long perfectly manicured pink nailed finger to my nose like a mother would her wayward son. "You can watch TV or there are heaps of chores you could attend to." The smile was almost wicked. "That picture needs hanging..." Yeah, like I'd certainly have no problem banging a nail into the lounge wall... to hang that over-sized engagement photo of the two of us holding hands while she's turned and smooching him... out there on that hotel balcony overlooking the cities night lights. If the photo wasn't bad enough I'd certainly pulp my thumb into a tenderized patty listening to her getting nailed in the room above me. Just thinking about 'that' night caused dizziness, thus my reluctance to hang that goddamned potent print. Lucy recognized my distress, my rampant fear... and she pouted, pursing her soft full red painted lips. "Poor baby... just hold me close. It'll all be okay in the morning." And then suddenly it was... okay... that is. Her luscious little body pressed against mine. Her smell, her perfume, her essence of woman; it overwhelmed me, it captured me and yet it mocked me. We remained bonded for what seemed like ages. I drew strength from her soul and she gladly allowed me that access. We were both in love, but our love was... complex. That age old question burnt deep. Can a human being, capable of infinite thoughts and feelings, love just as infinitely? Should that love be confined to just one person, or can it be shared by many? A mother will tell you she loves all her kids equally. Is that true, or are some children really preferred over others? Is love a defined parameter? Can you actually box it, ring fence your feelings and direct them to just one person? I think not, and this is where I fit into our 'unique' relationship. Yes, my relationship with Lucy began like any 'normal' seemingly monogamous union. It wasn't until I wanted to explore our 'friendship' further that she sat me down and we had 'that' discussion, like about what I just explained... about fencing love. She explained very clearly that she was already in a relationship with an older man and that he was married. Of course this divulgence floored me. She had started 'seeing' him when she was a freshman, an undergraduate at university. He was her history professor. He is French, and the French evidently do not play by the same static rules with regard to their relationships as we stuck up colonials do. The French are, well... more liberal. During their eighteen years of marriage both the Professor and Mrs Vanessa Deneuve openly partook in an intimate relationship with a single other party. He had his mistress and she had her toy-boy. It all seemed so simple really. My hazed mind transitioned back to the present as I inhaled my fiancées love, soaking in her presence... and then the bloody doorbell chimed. "I'll get it baby." Lucy pushed away excitedly. It never seemed to fade, that initial delight when anticipating HIS presence. She exuded frenetic excitement and her vivid green eyes shone with the deep lust of true bestowment. "Oooh, I'm so horny right now!" My fiancée danced her fairy pirouette to the door and opened it gleefully. The 'horny' statement had left me planted and trembling. "Master!" She cried and launched herself into his big arms, wrapping her gorgeous legs about his waist and locking her ankles tightly behind his lower back. Yes, don't cringe. She calls him 'Master'. Yes that was his 'title', well that or 'Sir', following her formal introduction to others of Mr (or professor) Denueve. She is his submissive and my Lucy delights in her role. She once explained carefully, with big wide open eyes and an aura of total awe, that her Master had trained her and that he 'owned' her. His busy business life along with the commitment of unification in holy matrimony, vowed to his stunning wife Vanessa, whom I'd actually met many times now, meant that he couldn't give Lucy the time he considered necessary to fully honor their relationship, nor could he commit to the fullness of life he so desired for his beautiful little mistress. It was unfair on her and a solution was required. I was of course, that solution. With these thought sparking about my brain I watched enthralled as my fiancée hungrily kissed her lover; her bared legs wrapped about his hips as he supported her naked bum beneath the flowery rucked up dress. Her little excited tongue sought his and his hers. I knew she never wore panties for him, and I could only breathlessly imagine her wet and excited pubis scraping against his ridiculous overstated silver belt buckle. The obscene bulge beneath did not escape my blurry vision either. The standard protocol of kneeling and waiting his instruction seemed to be forgotten, although I feared she might be punished for the infraction. Mind you I think Lucy enjoyed the punishments, and even though she always cried, she seemed to want more. It was like she required the hurt to compensate the pleasure. My Lucy was an intoxicating jigsaw of drive and emotion. She was certainly human, but I always suspected that some sort of alien DNA had likely been infused at birth. (She'd lived somewhere close to area 51, so who knew). But how can anyone judge another human being? Some are awarded brains and unfathomable intelligence; some are gifted with prose and have a way of making words serenade your heart. Businessmen make the world tick and Politicians have the gift of the gab and an uncanny ability to hypnotize. There are the lucky few who are blessed as sexual beings, capable of intense and immeasurable delights. Lucy was a unique creature possessing a delightful range of human emotion, able to absorb love and yet gift it plentifully to others. She was submissive to this man, and yet with me she was almost motherly. Yes, my girl was a complex mix and a stunningly beautiful creature, born to please and to receive pleasure in equal abundance. She had a radiant love of life, a love that could never be defined. "Bonjour Jack. How are you this fine evening?" Dion popped Lucy onto the floor, like one might place a China doll, and approached me, right hand extended in greeting... left hand clasping my delightfully excited girl. I knew we'd shake, because that seemed only fitting here in America, but I also knew the arbitrary double cheek kiss was coming too. The French are a really touchy feely race. Formalities complete Lucy led her lover to the settee and invited him to sit. I robotically poured the wine... an expensive French drop that I knew pleased him. He accepted my offering and then clinked glasses with both myself and my swooning fiancée as she took station perched on his lap... and folded her compact body into that six four frame like a molded jelly. "I apologize for the intrusion Jack. I had zee rough day today, and I need some... how you say... relief... before I go home and face my femme." He appeared drawn, and, as if in recognition of her lover's needs, Lucy arched up, stroked his face gently with her petite hand and kissed him softly, whispering 'poor Master'. He kissed her in return, stoking his big hand over her head and combing his fingers gently through her glowing amber waterfall of viscous lava. I watched on, feeling a little spaced out, like a lost soul in dark unfamiliar territory. The drama playing out before me was not new to me... and yet it always left me breathless. Lucy sucked free of his lips, and her hands clambered for her lovers dewy juiced belt buckle. He pushed out his hips, sliding his bum to the edge of the couch to accommodate her now frantic application to the zipper. With a delighted giggle, my fiancée extracted her substantial prize. I gripped the arms of my recliner, as if bracing for some perceived blast off. Lucy examined her yummy treat like it was an iced cone that threatened capitulation to a lazy summer's day heat. The cock stood tall and proud like some giant redwood remnant of a forest devastated. She licked her lips, savoring the delight. "May I Master?" She blinked up submissively, gripping the baton in her two small hands and I swear she was trembling in anticipation. I squirmed. This was never easy for me. "You may my pet." A slight nod of the head confirmed the acquiescence. My beautiful fiancée leaned forward and her little tongue slipped out, akin to a cat lapping at milk. I shuddered, grabbed my wine flute and downed the contents. My head swam. My mind regressed. It hadn't always been like this. In hindsight it was easy now, not like it was back then... at the beginning... when it nearly killed me. Yes, the beginning was difficult. I remembered when she'd first introduced me to her Master, and his stunning wife, and to his wife's lover, a guy named Charles. Oh, and I've met Charlie's wife too. She's a beautiful dark skinned French-African beauty who possesses the most amazing dark chocolate brown eyes. Charles has African roots too, but he's of Dutch-African heritage, and he's not dark like Sally. Actually, Sally is really quite amazing; displaying pure flawless dark bronzed skin and she's tight... almost skinny framed, with those perky little breasts that some lucky women are fortunate enough to possess. She wears those thin hipster eye glasses that make her appear so sophisticated and mysterious. I kind of have a big crush on Sally. Yes, it has been an interesting journey and one that may require defining if any sense is to be made of my current situation. Let's go back a bit, that I might quantify my present circumstances. **** Chapitre Un. LUCY begins... at the beginning. God I'm a klutz. When I yanked out my lap top from the charger, I'd accidentally pulled my phone charger free with it. That was why my alarm didn't go off and that's' why I missed the bus, although I swear it was a full minute early. The butterfly effect culminated when I flew into my History tutorial fifteen minutes late, devoid of breakfast and an ironed skirt. The whole class went deathly silent as I skidded to a breathless halt, searching frantically for a spare seat. I knew he was laser eyeing me. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end and little crawly things nibbled my spine. Of course this just made me wet... God he was a hunk. Every other giddy girl in school confirmed the fact, so it wasn't just me, alright. So, okay, I admit that his very nearness had me palpitating, leaving me panting and breathless and sticky and horny and... My vision scanned the crowded tiers with a desperation born of self-survival. "Miss Carrington... you're late... again." The deep gravel voice boomed, echoing about the vast auditorium, thus allowing the design acoustics to channel the blunt truth of that stark statement into my deepest recesses. My stupid sex twitched. Why did the certainty of his chastisement affect me like this? I suspected I was probably insane. "I do not appreciate tardiness ma petite fille. What is your excuse on this occasion?" I did that slow turn thing you do when you need time to carefully plot your amazing excuse. My heart pounded and I blew my ridiculous red ringlets away from my face. The lack of any hairdryer application after my frantic ten second shower that morning had resulted in a semblance of wild uncontrolled fizz... akin to desert ravaged tumbleweed. More butterfly effect I imagined. "Um... well..." I began plotting slowly, but my shrillness soon evolved into more of a scrambled panic. "I accidentally unplugged my phone and the alarm didn't go off and then I panicked a bit, and couldn't decide on what to wear and nothing was ironed and the bus was early and I kinda missed it and had to run across to the train station but I jumped on the wrong train because I'm not used to the trains and then when tha..." "STOP!!" The baritone call to cease the verbal diarrhea stopped me mid spiel. Shit, I had that excuse down pat. "Enough!" He laser beamed me. "Young femme, you need to get yourself organised. Forgetfulness and clumsiness are not traits I admire." His words hurt and I wanted so much for him to be proud of me. "You need to practice structure. Plan and map your moves and organize yourself. Silliness is not an excuse to go about life tripping over everything." His dark sliver blue eyes examined me, and they shone inexplicably with some kind of secret erotic knowledge. I was so goddamned wet. I hugged my books close to my heaving bosom. I wore the stupid low cut tee-shirt just for him, but now I wanted to cover up and crawl under the floorboards like a pathetic bug. "I want to talk with you after class and see if we can put a stop to this continued insulting behavior. Take a seat young lady." He glared and nodded to the only seat left vacant in the hall, the seat right in front and central to his lectern. I just nodded stupidly and slunk into the indicated position. The once silent room now whispered and sniggered at my demise. Why was I so utterly dizzy with lust? Being humiliated and publicly chastised just fired my rivet pinging boiler. Having HIM single me out, flaunt my failings to all and sundry and then offer to 'meet' me after class and 'sort me out' was just awesome! I have to say I fidgeted all class. He would occasionally examine me, like I was some interesting specimen to be studied. I desperately wanted to masturbate. He was explaining the Napoleonic wars when he sauntered past and twirled my notebook around to examine my doodle of a rocket ship blasting off in a cloud of swirly smoke. He grunted. I swooned. Finally and blessedly the bell rang. The place clambered for the exits. I remained in place, dreamily comfortable, swimming in my warm wetness. "Miss Carrington, we need to talk." Oh, goodie. "Yes Sir?" I battered my auburn lids. His breath hitched and a tiny squeak resonated form a constricted larynx. Was it something I'd said? I leaned forward a bit, mostly in anticipation... mostly. His eyes darted south. The twins seemed pleased. Pussy pulsed. "Do you have any parents?" His eyes fixed mine. "Yes Sir, they live in Nevada." There it was again, that little tell-tale noise. Was it attributed to what I said again? "I fly home on the holidays, SIR." Yep... his twitch registered the action. It was when I said 'Sir'. Hmmm... very interesting. I crossed my legs in a vain attempt to plug the dam leak. Why did I read that bloody book... and watch that stupid movie? "So you live off campus?" "Yes SIR." I grinned. This was interesting. "My parents have a bit of money so they pay for my flat... SIR." "You can cut the 'Sir' crap. Call me Mr Deneuve or just plain professor, okay?" He wasn't fooling me. "Yes SIR!" I grinned mischievously. This was fun. "Sorry Plain Professor." I giggled attempting a wacky impression of contrite. "Jeune femme, this is not ze laughing matter. You are a wild untamed fille and we need to introduce structure and proper etiquette into your world. This tardiness and lack of form will need to cesser." His jaw twitched. I was grinning like a kid in a candy store. It seemed he went all gooey and Frenchy when he got all animated. Was little ole me causing all that excitement? I uncrossed my legs. Sheesh I stunk. "You will need to be punished for your actions, no?" I just nodded dreamily, a tad anxiously. Oh yes, I needed to be spanked... bad. "Uh huh..." was all I could manage. "You will meet me I my office at cinq o'clock... okay ma belle fille?" More stupid nodding had me wondering what the hell he'd just said. It sounded very pretty. I wandered dreamily away, sloshing in my sticky juices determined to investigate the words he'd spoken. 'Ma belle fille' sounded so damned romantic! **** My beautiful girl... I was his beautiful girl. I'd typed those three exotic French words into my online translator and nearly orgasmed. Now, as I prepared to knock on the sturdy door before me, the one emblazoned with the title, Professor of History, the Hon Dr Dion Deneuve PhD, I was simmering like a once dormant mud pool subjected to an imminent eruption. I was hot, clammy and oozy. Just about ingredient perfect! Oh, he seemed very important. PhD must mean Practicing Heterosexual Dominant. Ooh. I knocked softly. It was precisely cinq o'clock. That's five o'clock, I looked it up. "Entrez chaton." Okay, I needed to look that one up later too because it sounded really hot. I tentatively pushed open the heavy door and it squeaked as if mimicking my own composure. "Please have a seat Lucy." He was smiling. That was a good thing right? I shuffled onto the hard backed chair and tucked my miserable excuse for a skirt under my bum. Why I'd chosen the tartan school girl pleated porn star look still defied comprehension. "Ma charmante fille, do you think you require order to your life?" Of course I was just going to dreamily agree to everything so I nodded eagerly. "In order to achieve structure one must first recognise the order." Sounded very complex, but hey he had the PhD stuff. "If I may, I would like to introduce you to the order of life. Belle, it is paramount that you have a mentor, someone you can look up to and follow ze direction." An Intricate Weaving Pt. 01 "Like my dad?" I stupidly blurted out. "No, well a little bit." He smiled. "More like a pet has a Master." Ooh, this sounded exciting. "I would volunteer to be that person, the one who would set your boundaries and give you tasks. If you like, it would be like you were my pet puppy dog, and you would be set tasks and your singular roll would be to complete those tasks without question or complaint. Of course this would please me and I would reward you. The result of this relationship would free you of responsibility, enabling you to function to your full potential without worry or thought to those mundane things that seem to trip you up in life." "So I'd be your slave?" That was said a bit too enthusiastically. I dropped my voice an octave or six. "You mean, like, I'd have to take orders from you and stuff?" I tried to appear concerned. I may have failed. "Well, yes. That would be a part of the equation. You need to take commands because without any such structure you will continue to stumble." "Um, okay..." "So, how would you feel if I was to assume that leadership role and set you tasks and duties to perform?" "Ahh, well..." I wanted to blurt out 'god yes' but refrained for fear of appearing easy. "I'd assign you various class and school study tasks. I'd set boundaries and both reward and chastise you if need be, dependent on the success or failure of those tasks. Of course, as with all Dominant slash submissive relationships, there would be a sexual component..." I was wondering when he'd get to the juicy bit. "I am married" bummer... "to my beautiful wife Vanessa, but we have a certain... shall we say... understanding. Our marriage is an open relationship. I have her permission to take a lover, as she in turn has mine. My last submissive, who was with me for six years, left for her home in Europe, to attend her ailing father. I have been six months without my precious belle fille and it is now time for me to move on. From the moment I first saw you, my chaton, I knew you were 'the' one. That first time, like every time since, when you stumble noisily into my class wearing those ridiculous outfits, always late and flushed like a bitch in heat, I knew you were mine." Fuck, and I thought I was being discreet! "So, what do you say?" Oh shit... think girl. "Err, thank you Master?" Okay, I wasn't thinking clearly. Pussy was driving the bus. The professor stumbled a bit, gripping the back of a chair for support. "Alrighty then," he croaked, "firstly let's get down to business." "I agree!" I nodded, beaming and bouncing in place, still not sure of what I'd signed up too. But I was nevertheless ecstatic in having been selected. "Your constant lateness needs addressing." He sauntered over to the door... and twisted the lock. Oh shit. "This will be your first chastisement and hopefully it will be your last concerning this grave matter." He reached into his draw and withdrew a cute little pink alarm clock. I knew it was an alarm clock because it had two pink bells for ears and the face of a kitten. This has been pre-set and you will arise the instant it sounds, are we clear?" "Yes SIR!" He handed me the clock and I pretended to examine it, hoping to feign interest. It was after all just a bloody clock, and I was hoping for something a little more... personal. It was cute but. "Now we must address the punishment with relation to the continued tardiness." He seemed to be thinking aloud. I sat the clock down; fearful my shaking hands might drop my recently acquired present. "I feel that the delivery of ten good solid swats to your arriere might just about suffice on this occasion." I nodded feeling vacant and dizzy. "Stand up now, turn and bend over the chair. Place your hands on the chairs arms for support." I complied quickly, needily... fearing the deluge gathered within my sex might soon become apparent, and the humiliation of anticipating the sticky goo perhaps sliding down my inner thighs had me blushing red. "Yes good; just like that" Now naively I assumed the 'swots' might be delivered over my skimpy skirt. Nope. "I must raise this little skirt up, so as it does not interfere with my delivery." Of course; how silly of me. One needed a proper go at swotting. "My god, your panties are soaked!" Bugger, forgot about that. My brain was mushed. "We will have to remove them also; they are just too soiled to stay in place." Of course they are. Yes, they should go; just my pink bare bottom should be displayed. I was getting a bit delirious. I could vaguely distinguish my 'soiled' undies being tugged down my quivering thighs, but my poor brain was in la-la land. "There, this is much preferred." Warm fingers danced over my soft freckled rump, like the tentacles of a horny octopussy. Stay focused girl. Those same tentacles pulled my bum cheeks apart and a breeze akin to a cyclone swirled into my overheated sex. "My god, it is like ze swamp in here!" I have no idea if the probing fingers were entirely necessary to gauge the murkiness of said swamp, but I howled like a banshee as that first orgasm grabbed me and flung my clueless body into a ravine of bottomless pleasure. Somewhere, out in the void I detected laughter. "You are very responsive my belle chanton." His mirth was evident. My quivering chanton was still purring when the first wet blow struck my defenseless buttocks. I cried out with a mixed sensation of horror, pain and pleasure. Where had the later come from? By the fifth strike I was bawling like a baby, and then the massive orgasm, which dropped in like a tornado out of nowhere, all but killed me. I might have passed out at around the count of eight, still contracting so hard my poor brain just gave out. The next thing I knew I was sobbing quietly, wrapped in big strong arms. His masculine aroma confused me, settled me... and it claimed me. I knew in that waking moment that I had indeed been claimed forever more, a compliant submissive slave to my Master. Well that's how my fuzzy mind thought of it at the time anyway. Yeah I read too many silly books. So I now belonged to another man, a mature intelligent married man, content to obey and perform as he commanded and I clearly understood the context of that relationship going forward. I would give both my mind and my body to him to do as he pleased and I would serve him until death... and yet I was still an 18 year old virgin. Go figure. **** Chapitre Deux. LUCY. Life had taken on a new hue. Color transformed the grayness and it seemed like I was now living some vivid Technicolor dream. The world kept turning and my progression as a fully-fledged mistress, apprentice submissive and needful slave, evolved as quickly as the days unraveled. At first it was just simple commands. When the school day finished I was to go to his office to collect my instructions. I'd receive a bare bottom open handed smacking if I had faltered in any way. Of course I wiggled and squirmed at his command, and it certainly wasn't the stinging pain or the embarrassment of the punishment that focused me. It was the sighs of his disappointment, the sorrow in his countenance that drove me to do better. I wanted... needed... to please him. He'd send me home with implicit instructions on what I was to collect from the supermarket and how I was to prepare the nightly meal. He seemed to find time to meticulously prepare and organize my life. I ate better, slept better, and I'd wake at an absurdly crazy early hour to the sound of 'meows' emanating from that ridiculous pussy cat alarm clock. I'd actually bounce about the house excitedly anticipating my new day, reading through my instructions and following each to a tee. I will admit in hindsight that I was perhaps a silly impressionistic young girl but I realize even now that it was exactly what I needed. And I became a better person having experienced it. Oh, and then there was the sex. At eighteen I'd only ever had two boyfriends and other than the heavy petting and occasional exploratory grope and tongue drill; I'd never gone any further. I guess those 'boys' just didn't do it for me. I needed the control and I longed for a real man. Of course I had no idea the man I would find would be nearly old enough to be my father, but when my Master selected me, that thought strangely never entered my mind. It just seemed natural and right. So sex with my Master started out gently. The obligatory insertion of talented fingers when he was pleased with me and the constant kissing and sucking of my seemingly permanently aroused nipples always had me panting for more. But then it happened. I remember that conversation well. It was a Friday evening and a defining moment in my life. "Pet..." "Yes Master...?" I was panting heavily. He'd tied me to his office chair with my hands behind my back, and my breasts had been dug from my bra and currently sat high and exposed atop my t-shirt, held aloft like ripe melons. My dumb nipples were trying to ping across the room like straining buttons. Oh, and he was flicking them with his tongue. That wasn't helping with my dilemma either. On top of that he was stroking his thumb over my panties, right over the puffy red lips of my vulva. I was going to blow any second. I think he liked my tits. They were probably my best asset and being a bit skinny framed my 36's seemed a shade large and somewhat disproportionate to my body. There was this one freckle, a large one just to the left of my left nipple. That little raised bump of purple stood out like a lone date palm on the Mount of Olives and it fascinated him. "I want to take you home pet, and introduce you to my wife and to Charlie her lover. If you all get along I'm going to take your virginity. Is this acceptable?" "Yes... Master, that... would be... cool." My body was fizzing like a Catherine wheel. He pulled my panty crutch aside and pressed hard against my clit, sinking his fingers into my folds. "Good girl, now come for me my belle fille." I happily obliged and howled my head off. It was so strange that he could make me come on command. It was like we were conjointly tuned. Finally I regained some semblance of normality, squinting through heavy lids and squirming wetly in my bonds. My Master was gathering up his books and had arbitrary donned his tweed jacket, preparing for the normality of a weekend ahead. "It's time to take you home to meet the wife, my precious one. Be on your best behavior, follow my leads and I'm sure you'll make a good impression. I so much want her to approve of you." He chuckled at my furious nodding, still trussed like a turkey with legs split each side of the desk chair and breasts exposed like some cow anxiously waiting a milking. My udders felt heavy and my sex required mopping, but I so much wanted to please him and the promise of the removal of my virginity had me puffing and panting like a giddy dog expecting a biscuit. Ooh... goodie. **** Mrs Deneuve was a heart stopping beautiful woman. I guessed she stood 5'9 or 5'10' but her heels were crazy so it was a bit hard to gauge her exact height. She was platinum blonde and I reckoned it was natural because there were no tell-tale signs of root miss-coloring. She had one of those modern angular straight cut hair styles, like an impressionist bob cut. It suited her formidable stance and she wore that noticeable armor of dominant power, just like her husband did. I suddenly felt like a little insignificant weed. Two powerful oaks stood over me, examining my frightful inadequacies and I trembled. "My god she's so cute darling!" Vanessa examined me after we'd been introduced and cheek kissed. We were still standing in the hallway of what could only be described as an opulent and expansive mansion. "Where did you find this cute little beauty?" "Lucy is one of my students. As I've told you, she stood out; always late, hopelessly incompetent and totally disorganized!" He chuckled at my blush. I kind of twisted in my Mary Jane's feeling small and stupid. "Oh, so she's just how you like them then; a klutz in need of training, with nice big tits and your favorite attribute; a natural redhead with freckles. I bet you though all your Christmas's had come at once darling." Vanessa laughed and gripped my shoulders, turning me about as if to inspect some prize pony. "I love the slutty little school girl look; very nice." Hey, I'm not slutty. Well the pinafore was a bit short but Master likes me like this! Maybe Vanessa is a bitch. "Yeah it's my second favorite look on her. Do you like her legs?" They were treating me like some piece of meat! My sex pinged. What was my problem? "Oh, yes, very nice. Lift her skirt and let me see." She stepped back a yard to peruse the merchandise. Maser complied and lifted my pleated pinafore high enough to expose my white cotton undies. She chuckled. "So innocent and pure; I like where you're going with her darling. Bring her inside and undress her. I want to see her naked." My legs went wobbly. "You're going to like her. The tits are exquisite." Master practically had to shove me into the living room because my dumb legs wouldn't work. He positioned me square on in front of the now seated Vanessa. I swayed in place fighting a dizzy spell. Big fingers popped the buttons to my uniform and then the shoulder straps released and my pinafore succumbed to gravity, fluttering down my traitorous legs to pool about the bright red school shoes. He bent down behind me to help lift each foot clear of the fabric. I didn't expect my panties to be yanked down just at that same moment. Sheesh, a girl needs time to adjust. I went to cover my whatsit when a female hand smacked them harshly aside. "Silly girl!" Vanessa chastised. "You will need to get over your shyness around here. When you enter this house you will always strip naked, and present yourself to me for inspection." She eyed me, one brow raised as if expecting a response. I reacted instantly. "Yes ma'am." That seemed to please her. Evidently said inspection was underway because her trained eye roved over my excited pussy. "What is that!?" She exclaimed, appearing cross and nodded in the direction of my now cowering kitty. "Um, that's my..." "Shut up child. Speak when directed. I was asking my husband." "Well dear, I haven't had her waxed yet. I know what you're thinking, but I wanted to seek your approval of my pet first, before I groom her for service." "Humph. Okay, but for god's sake get rid of that rats nest. It looks like it's on fire for Christ sake!" She appeared pissed. Sheesh, it's just my pubic hair. Okay so it is a bit wild but... "Would you like to see her tits? They're quite something..." Master was trying to change the subject and I appreciated his efforts at diversion. I did hope to do better with my 'tits'. He forcefully hauled my t-shirt up over my head but left me stranded with my arms raised and the material stuck over my head. I wriggled about trying to free myself when the cold air-conditioned air spiked my wayward nipples as Master reefed my bra up around my neck. I must have looked like a headless squirming Greek marble, only I was freckled. "Well, what do you think...?" A hand lifted my left breast... presumably for inspection. I tried to stick them out proudly, but I was still trapped inside my t-shirt and squirming. "Hmm, nice. Charlie, come in here for a second and tell me what you think of these tits?" "Yes Mistress." I wanted to die. Footsteps approached. "So, what do you think?" "Not bad; full and high. The nipples are nicely spiked. Can I have a feel?" "Of course silly boy. How the hell can you evaluate tits without coping a feel? Stupid man!" Oh my god. Some stranger was kneading my breasts! The bloody t-shirt was stuck over my head, my arms are up and some prick is weighing my assets, evaluating their worth! "Pet, stop wriggling and hold still." The soothing voice in my ear settled my anxiety. "Push them out and be proud." "Yes Master." I wanted to be good. "These are spectacular tits Mistress. Master will like these. I'd give them a nine out of ten. That one freckle spoils a perfect score." He fingered Master's favorite freckle and I fizzed like a carrot. Okay, so carrots don't fizz, but you get the idea. "Shit Charlie, I really like that little nubby thing." Master waved my tits as if to reinforce some point. "So darling, what do you think?" "Okay, she's got nice breasts and I can see why you like the girl. I understand she was a virgin when you found her. Has she been deflowered yet?" "No, I want to fuck her tonight and bed her cunt onto my cock." "I really don't want you taking the sluts virginity. That's a bit too intimate. Let Charlie take her first, he's smaller than you anyway and it'll be easier on the girl. Once he's unloaded you can bed her in at will. Is this acceptable?" "Do I have a choice?" Master sounded a bit peeved. Someone was pulling the damned t-shirt off over my head and I gasped relief. Hell, husband and wife were having a spat over who deflowered me! Did I even have a say. I checked out Charlie. Wow, he was... naked! My googly eyes scanned the lean mean piece of masculine meat and his semi erect manhood swayed like the pendulum I suspected hung from London's Big Ben. I mean I'd checked out penises before on the internet but seeing a big one up close was pretty awesome. I couldn't help staring at it. Suddenly I felt a nervous chill. Master was bigger than that! I mean I'd felt Master's prize before through his pants, but feeling it was obviously deceiving. Where the hell was the rest of it if he was bigger than the hypnotizing veined monster that swung gently before me? My sex was definitely leaking but my brain was struggling to comprehend the significance of what was being so calmly discussed. "Darling, we promised exclusivity... and I consider the taking of a girl's virginity as quite special, and exclusive. It would be too 'intimate' and 'close'. I'd prefer you didn't do her first. Let Charlie do the deed and then it's just done and dusted. Nothing special between us, okay?" "Fair enough, I understand zis point of contention." "Charlie, take Dion's new pet up stairs, shave that rats nest off and fuck her. Bring her back when she's done." I wanted to run. Suddenly this didn't seem special anymore. My chest heaved. Master guided me from the room and into the hall once more. He pulled me in close. "It's alright my pet. My wife can be a bit possessive sometimes. She is a really nice person when you get to know her, its' just she feels a bit 'challenged' right now. Charlie's never scored a nine on a girl's tits before and Vanessa is just a bit pissed off." He kissed my neck and nuzzled my ear. The fact that I was stark naked except for my wayward bra wrapping my upper shoulders like some crazed cravat only added further dizziness to my welfare. He helped me out of the thing and tossed it aside. Just go with Charlie and he'll look after you. Tell him I want a tuft of that beautiful soft down left on your pubis and once he's completed his task and penetrated you, come find me and I'll get you honed onto my cock. Okay my belle fille?" I could have just passed out. It was too much, but something deep inside me had been lit. I was a fuse burning brightly and I feared detonation. I needed to do this, move this forward and I'd be his forever. Sooner or later I would get to experience proper sex and Charlie was a good looking guy, so did it really matter who had me first? It would still be memorable that's for sure. Better than some forgetful grope and poke in the back seat of some shitty Chevy with a prick you'd likely never see again. And besides this was special because, Charlie would be gently preparing me for my lover, and tonight I'd be making love to my Master. My stupid pussy creamed. An Intricate Weaving Pt. 01 I just wasn't sure about Vanessa. I didn't like her. She treated me like a nobody and that hurt. Okay, if my husband had just introduced his new lover to me, and my submissive lover had scored her assets a nine, then perhaps I'd be jealous and snippy too. I decided to cut her some slack. I really wanted her to like me. "Come on pet. Let's go back inside... and be proud. You're gorgeous and sexy. Just do what Vanessa says and you guys will get on just fine." Master led me back into the lounge and I stood proudly naked before my antagonist. I was determined to make him proud. "Charlie, my pet is ready. Bath her and shave her and then come get me. I want to watch you deflower her, but I want to support her. She's scared and frightened." Master stood behind me and held me... and caressed my left breast gently, tweaking my nipple and reigniting that goddamned fuse. A fat tear scrolled down my cheek. This was all too much. "Oh my pretty one!" Vanessa jumped to her feet and moved in close. "I'm sorry for getting so pissy. You're such a beautiful girl and sometimes I get so damned jealous. Please forgive me for being so bitchy." I wobbled as my nipple was squeezed between thumb and forefinger. Acting on impulse I leaned forward and gently... and softly... kissed my new Mistress's full sweet lips. She hissed into my mouth. I backed up and recognized the shimmer of tears forming at the corner of her eyes. "My god you're perfect." She patted my cheek hurriedly, then turned and fled the room. I glanced at Master. He winked. I glowed with pride and stuck my 'nines' out. Charlie placed a hand in mine and I trotted along behind the naked Adonis feeling very pleased with myself. I think Mistress actually liked me. That had to be a good thing, right? **** To be continued.