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The Seduction of Jean Johnson

By: SteveLee1146



Jean and Jim Johnson were both products of parochial, conservative small towns in the Midwest. In those areas, right was right, wrong was wrong -- and nothing was in between. Of course, actions frequently differ from religious and moral beliefs, but both Jean and Jim were closer to the regional ideal than most. This was particularly true of Jean. Her father, a widower, was a hard worker during the week, a lay preacher on Sunday in a church that was close to being a cult. They railed against gays and lesbians, fornicators and adulterers, trashy women in tight sweaters and short skirts, pointy headed liberals who were undermining the moral structure of the United States, etc., etc. Virtually from birth she was conditioned to accept the church's views on morality, views engrained by winters spent in weekday sessions as well as Sunday school, by summers spent in church camp, by harangues at the dinner table and, if, after all this, a heretical thought was uttered, they were enforced by "don't spare the rod and spoil the child" spankings. 

By the time she graduated from high school, she had absorbed and accepted all of these views. Her personal beliefs and behavior conformed and she was a "good girl," and not very popular, particularly with the boys. Thus, at graduation, not only was she a virgin, not only had she never been felt or fondled, she had never even been kissed -- talk about not being with the times! She went away to college (almost over her father's dead body -- "Why should a girl go to college? She should learn housekeeping, get married and take care of her husband") on a scholarship and, by her senior year, had been kissed, twice, and, had her breasts squeezed through her sweater, once. The latter experience was exciting at the time, but caused her considerable self-criticism and internal moral condemnation afterwards. It was, however, the first chink in her moral armor.

There were other breaches in the dogma created in her "growing up" period, although some might say that the true growing up occurred during her college years. She discovered that some "trashy" girls (i.e. those who wore short skirts and tight sweaters) were actually very nice people dressed in what most other students considered to be "normal" clothing. Gays and lesbians frequently were amazingly like everyone else except for a different sexual orientation -- and it wasn't catching! She even discovered that some of the most respectable girls "put out" on occasion. These and many other "revelations" undercut much of the indoctrination she had received during her early youth, and she became much less censorious in her evaluations of others. Nonetheless, her own behavior changed little. She still wore her skirts longer and her sweaters looser that was modish. She showered when she knew no other girls would be present and she stayed fully dressed when lounging around the room if anyone else might come in. On the few dates she had (rarely a second one), she was unapproachable for any act that might even be slightly questionable -- except for the two kisses and one fondling which were aberrations. 

Much of this changed when, during her senior year, she met Jim. They came from the same background and, while he had a somewhat less restrictive view of moral behavior, he was not as aggressive as most "predatory' males (which means most men). Thus, he didn't frighten her off or cause her to be excessively wary of his intentions. On his part, he felt comfortable with her because her standards were similar to those he had known at home. In addition, he was in pre-med and had a very heavy course load which suppressed his libido so that he was satisfied with a slower developing romance. Still, by the end of the year, he had managed to undermine her standards to the degree that she had been explored quite thoroughly, and satisfactorily, by his hands and, finally, by his eyes -- but only when it was very clear that marriage was their mutual goal.

The wedding, a small affair, took place that summer and, with a short, mundane honeymoon in the conservative, safe, choice of Niagara Falls, they moved to where Jim was to begin medical school. He, fortunately, had received a generous scholarship and grant which they assumed, with Jean getting a job, would be more than enough to live on. However, they immediately found out two difficult pieces of information. First, living expenses, even in a small city, were far greater that in a small college town in the Midwest. Second, there was no great demand for liberal arts graduates who had no specific experience of any kind. They found themselves living, temporarily, they hoped, in a cheap, rundown motel on the edge of town. Jim started classes while Jean desperately looked for work. Ironically, when she finally found something to apply for, it was what her father had insisted that she learn to do -- housekeeping.

The advertisement merely said that a woman needed a housekeeper-companion, salary dependent on experience and compatibility. Jean had no professional experience, but she had maintained the family home (with the tutelage of an aunt), taken a few college courses in home economics, and, frankly, she was desperate. Even a cheap motel with meals out every day was quickly depleting their meager finances. However, even that job possibility appeared to be doomed. The interview went well; the potential employer and Jean conversed freely and seemed compatible. The friendly atmosphere made it pretty obvious that they were mutually satisfied with each other and that it was merely a question of details before Jean finally had a job. The job entailed house cleaning, some cooking and acting as a maid on occasion. It also required her to be available to keep the woman, Mrs. R. J. Simmons, company when her husband was out of town. As she explained, "My husband is the executive vice-president of a franchise leasing company. Part of his duties is to travel around the country, checking on franchise stores, helping new operators get started, etc. He's out of town two or three nights a week and sometimes gone for one or two weeks when a new store opens. I don't like being alone in this big house when he's gone." That's when the critical blow came. "Therefore, I need a live-in maid-housekeeper. We have a very nice, large room with its own bath and.....Why, what's wrong, dear?"

This last question came about because of the stricken look on Jean's face as she saw what had seemed the answer to their problem vanish. "Oh, Mrs. Simmons! I thought that you knew that I'm married! My husband is in the medical school and...." she broke into tears. Then, sobbing, "We've just been married and we moved here, we don't have much money, we don't have a place to live.... and I can't live here!" Composing herself, she continued, "I'm sorry, this is not your problem. I guess you'll have to get someone else."

"My heavens, I must be blind. I didn't even notice your wedding ring. I'm really sorry, dear. I think that it would have worked out perfectly." They both got up and headed for the door, Jean almost crying after thinking that she had what seemed like the perfect solution to their money problems. Returning to the drab motel room, she did cry and prepared to see if something like McDonald's might have an opening. 

Back at the Simmons house that evening, however, a conversation went on that she would have found quite interesting in several ways. Mrs. Simmons, speaking to her husband, said, "I really thought that I had a replacement for Judy this afternoon. She seemed very nice and is quite pretty, perfect for what we wanted. Unfortunately, she turned out to be married, which meant that she couldn't live here. That made it impossible, but, heaven knows when a better girl will come alone -- she seemed perfect."

Mr. Simmons' reply clearly indicated that he had a different idea in mind for a housekeeper-companion that just a good cleaner. "Did she seem like someone that we could train like Judy? We're going to miss her, damn it!"

"I hadn't got far enough into the final hiring to tell, but she seemed desperate. She and her husband are living in that "Sleep In" motel on the edge of town and she certainly needs the job."

"Gods, if they're staying there she must be desperate!" 

"I know, but she couldn't stay in Judy's room and leave her husband in that rat hole. They need an apartment." She stopped as an idea hit her. "Wait! Why didn't I think about this before? Why couldn't she and her husband live in mother's apartment? It's empty and I really doubt that she'll ever move back North, at least not for years!"

"Well, I agree that there is little reason to keep that place empty on the off chance she'll change her mind. If you think that this girl can be seduced like Judy, I'm certainly for it."

"I'm sure that you would like her. She seems very nice and, as I said, quite pretty. I couldn't tell much about her figure since her clothes were loose and her skirt long, but she's slim. She's in her early twenties and seemed to be in good shape, so I imagine she's ok. I don't know if she would be what we want yet, of course, but I'll give her the spanking speech and see how she reacts. Anyway, if she can't be trained, we can always look for someone else. As I said, though, she's just been married, which might be a problem. She really is desperate, though, and once she's here I can probably break her down. In any case, I really liked her as a person on first impression." 

Later that evening, Jean was called to the phone by the motel office and received the thrilling news that Mrs. Simmons thought that she had a way to solve the housing situation and that Jean should drive out to the house the next day. She and Jim could hardly believe that something good could happen, but they both figuratively crossed their fingers in hope.

When Jean arrived at the house the following morning, she was met by a smiling Mrs. Simmons who explained, "The year before last, my father died and we added on a small apartment in the back for my mother. Just as it was finished, she moved to Florida to live with a man she met at a reunion. I didn't think it will last, so I kept the apartment closed and waiting for her to come to her senses and move back. I've pretty well given up on that idea, so there's no reason to keep it empty on that chance, so, if you and your husband want to live there while you work for me, we can do that. Understand, if she comes back, you'll have to find another place, but it would work for now."

"Oh, Mrs. Simmons, that would be wonderful! Gods, I can't wait to tell Jim!"

The apartment turned out to be perfect -- a living room, small kitchen, bedroom and another small room that would be perfect for Jim's study. The two women quickly worked out the employment details and, while the hourly pay was not high considering the hours of daily work plus, as Mrs. Simmons called it, babysitting when Mr. Simmons was out of town, it plus the housing made Jean a very happy young woman! The only flaw in the arrangements came at the end when Mrs. Simmons made some personal comments. "Now, Jean, everything seems to be right. However, before you agree, I must give you a warning. I am not a patient woman and I do expect to have things done the way I want them. The problem in these relationships is that normally I would have only two options if things didn't go the way I wanted -- overlook it, which I don't intend to do, or fire you, which I'm sure that I wouldn't want to do. Judy, the young woman that you will replace, and I had an agreement that worked well but may not be acceptable to you. If I gave her instructions and she didn't carry them out, or she did anything I didn't like, I used corporal punishment to correct things. She certainly didn't like it, but it provided a middle course and she was with me for two years. If you'll agree to the same arrangement, I'd love to have you."

"Jean hardly believed what she had heard and startled, gasped out, "By corporal punishment do you mean spanking?"

"Spanking, paddling, whatever. And when I do spank or paddle, I mean it. It hurts! Judy cried every time, but she accepted the punishment because the alternative was worse. Believe me, I don't want to be cruel, but I will insist on my orders being obeyed promptly without complaint." As she said these things, Mrs. Simmons' voice had a steely undercurrent that clearly indicated that she meant what she said, leaving Jean with no question as to her fate if a conflict occurred. For a moment it was if she was ten years old again and her father was threatening to apply the proverbial rod if she continued to misbehave. However, there was too much at stake here for her to worry about a possible spanking, particularly since she had no intention to defy any of Mrs. Simmons' orders. It certainly was not enough of a problem as to cause her to give up what sounded like a decent job and, even more important, a very nice place to live. No more dilapidated motel! So, a few minutes later, she had agreed to the conditions specified and was embarked on a career as a housekeeper-maid-babysitter and was rushing off to tell Jim.

Needless to say, Jim was ecstatic and they moved into the apartment that very night. His long hours of study could now be done in his "study" rather at the small table in the motel, a plus for both of them. For Jean, the loss of the pressure of looking for a job and worrying about money made actually going to work seem like a vacation. In fact, the work was pleasant and hardly onerous. It was a large house but most of it was not used regularly, so little cleaning was needed. Mrs. Simmons liked to cook, so there was little of that required of Jean on an everyday basis. Really, her biggest job was acting as a maid, keeping Mrs. Simmons' clothes in shape and acting as a companion. Since they were quite compatible and since Mrs. Simmons, who soon became "Marian," treated her more as a younger friend than an employee, Jean became quite comfortable in a position that might seem somewhat menial and subordinate for a college graduate. 

However, there were real differences between them. Despite being considerably older, mid to upper 50's to Jean's 22, Marian was much more liberal in dress and attitude. Physically they were very dissimilar. Marian was almost 5' 11" and probably weighed close to 160 lbs. She certainly was not overweight, however, just large and well built. She had very large breasts that still had virtually no sag other than what their weight required. Her body was in excellent shape, firm and tight from daily exercise, a figure a woman twenty years younger could envy. She dressed to complement her figure and she could attract male glances wherever she would go. Her hair was dark blonde, worn in a sophisticated upsweep.

Jean, on the other hand, was just a little over 5' 3" and weighed about 115 lbs. Her figure was not particularly noticeable when dressed because she always wore her clothes loose or full-cut. When nude, a state seen only by her new husband since she was a teenager, it was apparent that her breasts were well formed and, while no way near the size of Marian's, were large for her height. That was a problem she hid throughout high school and college by wearing a B-cup bra when a C-cup would have been a better fit. The rest of her figure was in proportion to her size except, perhaps a more prominent (or, perhaps plump) rear end. Her hair was a light brown or brunette, worn in a modified pageboy which framed her small face perfectly. Actually, while certainly not beautiful, she was quite attractive, despite her attempts to disguise the fact. Unlike Marian, she tried to avoid male glances since attracting them was not "proper" according to her background. It should be noted that Jim was very pleasantly surprised at what he found when he was able to start his "explorations." 

Thus, they were "Mutt and Jeff" in size and equally different in other ways. As stated, Jean was very conservative in clothing and quite reluctant to be seen in any stage of undress. For example, when she and Marian were alone watching a movie when Mr. Simmons was out of town, she still insisted on wearing her regular, daytime clothes. Marian would change to a robe or, occasionally a nightgown, but despite suggesting that Jean be more informal, she just wouldn't, or couldn't, do so. Once in a while, Marian would change clothes in Jean's presence and Jean always averted her eyes to avoid seeing her body. Marian teased her about her hang-ups, but nothing changed. Seducing her was not going to be an easy process.

The first step was to make it clear that, despite the growing closeness that developed between them, Marian was to be affable but dominant, making decisions and issuing orders. The orders were usually cast in the form of questions (would you like to...) or suggestions (maybe you could...), but Jean quickly found that she was expected to follow through. She learned that if she didn't do as "suggested" in a reasonable amount of time, that suggestion would be repeated in a tone of voice that had an underlying hint of steel. If that failed, the results could be quite painful. Jean had that impressed upon her one afternoon when, for no particular reason, she decided that something else was more important than following Marian's cleaning schedule. The difference in priorities didn't seem important to her and, when her antennae did not pick up the more unambiguous instruction, the penalty was harsh -- and for more than one reason. The breaking down Jean's independence by making her more submissive was part of the seduction process. If she were conditioned to follow orders without question, she could gradually be programmed to do what Marian wanted.

So, for example, when Marian came into the room one day and saw that Jean was still dawdling (as she saw it) rather than following her directives, she acted without further warning. Demanding in a wrathful voice, "Why are you doing that instead of what I wanted you to do?," she, without further comment or waiting for an answer, took Jean by the arm, and pulled her over to a nearby chair. Sitting down, she placed Jean face down over her lap, jerked her skirt to her waist, ripped down her panties and, without pausing, brought her hand down in a resounding slap on the exposed bottom.

Jean had been standing there when Marian came into the room and heard the question, but before it even registered in her brain, she found herself almost flying to a position over Marian's knees. It was all too fast for her to absorb at first, and, before she could react, she in position for a spanking. The whole process was a blur and as she suddenly became aware of what was happening, the first slap hit. Still, there was a real question as to which hurt most, humiliated her the most -- being spanked for the first time since she was eleven years old, or realizing that her entire lower body was bare. Even when the agreement was made that corporal punishment was part of the job description, Jean had somehow assumed that it wouldn't happen and, it never occurred to her for an instant that if a spanking was inflicted, that it would be on her bare behind. Such an idea was so foreign to her that it hadn't even been considered. Now, unbelievably, it was happening!

Impossible as it seemed later, it was the exposure that was her first, automatic concern. She struggled, futilely against the hand holding her down, striving to get her skirt back down, not even trying at first to avoid the other hand, the spanking one. She was almost screaming, "Pull my panties back up! Pull my skirt down! What are you doing? Let me up!" Still that spanking hand continued its belaboring of her buttocks, hitting one side and then the other, turning the pinkish-white skin to crimson. Despite her concern for her modesty, those blows very quickly got Jean attention to the pain being inflicted on her posterior. Suddenly the cries of outrage turned into shrieks of agony. "Ow...stop it...ow...let me go....ow! The screeching was intermeshed with slaps which were sometimes rhythmic, sometimes not. Slap....ouch....slap....stop....slap.... owooo... slap....slap...slap...gods, stop...slap...oooh! The erratic slapping prevented Jean from preparing for the next blow, not that it would have helped. The force of the slapping hand came from the much stronger, much larger woman, and despite her writhing and twisting, nothing she could do permitted her to avoid the blows that rained ruthlessly on her defenseless bottom. 


The Seduction of Jean Johnson Ch. 02



However, despite Jean's evident compliance, this certainly was not the last time that Marian spanked her. It seemed that, despite her best intentions, Jean managed to do something wrong at least once a week. She didn't follow through on an assignment or she did something wrong when she did. She broke something or knocked something over. Occasionally, it seemed that Marian just felt like spanking her for no discernible reason. Whatever the cause, the spankings had the hoped for effect on Jean. She was still mortified by the entire experience, but gradually fought and squirmed less and, more importantly, worried less about the inevitable exposure. It still felt wrong to have her panties down and her bottom bare, but she no longer felt that she should have stopped it. Later, when Marian instructed her to remove them prior to a spanking, she meekly complied. Actually, that word "meekly" largely summed up the biggest change: Jean accepted Marian's dominance over her and submitted passively even when doing so seemed "wrong" according to her upbringing. The seduction was well under way. However, there was a limit, a point at which Jean felt compelled to hold the line. That point was reached just before Halloween.

Marian and her husband R. J. Simmons, or "Rob" for Robert, always had a large costume party on Halloween and Jean was expected to serve snacks and drinks. The problem arose when she was presented with a French maid costume, one worn previously by Judy at past parties. She was immediately scandalized when she tried on the dress and saw how scant the coverage would be, The skirt was short, at least five inches above the knee. With it went long fishnet hose and garter belt worn with a pair of ruffled panties. The top was very low-cut, designed to show considerable cleavage created by a built-in push-up bra. Judy had been somewhat larger than Jean and, while the waist and hips weren't too bad, her breasts rested on top of the bra rather than in it. The result – if Jean bent over, the stiff skirt rose up, presenting, at the least, a view of her thighs, and the top fell away, permitting her breasts to swing freely and visible right down to the nipples. There was no way that she could wear such an obscene costume before other people. In fact, she was embarrassed when Jim saw her and she was surprised that he didn't share her total aversion to wearing it. Actually, he said, "Boy you look cute and sexy," a comment that angered (and secretly pleased) her.

Oddly enough, Marian used almost the same words when Jean marched over to show her how impossible it was for her to wear it to the party. She was even reluctant to let Marian see her, but had to prove her point. To her dismay, Marian focused solely of the physical problems, e.g. taking in the waist and hips, and seeing what they could do to tighten the top. From Jean's point of view, she missed the real problem completely. "Good heavens, Marian, I can't wear something like this in public! The skirt's at least eight inches too short and the top would show too much of my breasts regardless of how much it could be tightened! I'm embarrassed to see myself in the mirror – only a tramp would wear something lit this!"

This, of course, was not the most gracious way of expressing her opinion, particularly since Marian had selected the costume in the first place and obviously liked it, but Jean was not in the mood to be conciliatory. She raged on about how unsuitable and how vulgar the outfit was and how she wouldn't be caught dead in it. As she raged on, she missed the signs of increasing annoyance in Marian's face, a face that soon took on the visage of a thundercloud ready for a lightning strike. Her menacing silence finally registered on Jean who suddenly became aware of the frigid atmosphere in the room. When her diatribe hesitantly came to a stop, Marian spoke.

"Now, young lady, I've heard enough of this! That costume in not vulgar, it is not obscene, it is not any of the other terms you have used in your tirade! That is a very nice, pretty outfit that is perfect for serving at our party – and, by damn, you're going to wear it or I'll know why not!"

"It is vulgar and I feel like a prostitute in it, that's why not! Anyone wearing this, flaunting their body, letting people see their breasts, showing their legs and even their panties....I don't know what to call them! There's no way on earth that I'm going to appear in public in it!"

The "conversation" went downhill from there. Finally, enraged, Marian shouted out, "I've heard enough of this. Get over to the bed, take off those panties and bend over!" Surprisingly, Jean did just that. Marian's anger cut through her own fury and, frightened by the consequences of her intemperate words, she did as she had been conditioned to do by the frequent spankings of the past two months. Suddenly, she saw the specter of being fired, losing her home and income and she regretted her vicious comments. However, despite this threatened doom, she simply could not bring herself to compromise her principles and her belief in things being either right or wrong – and this was wrong! She could, of course, have refused Marian's orders and the inevitable punishment and run back to her apartment, but she knew that doing so would bring that doom. Acquiescing was also not an option. She didn't know what to do, so she did nothing – except wait.

The wait wasn't long as Marian grabbed a bamboo rod, normally used to hold up a climbing plant, and brought it down on Jean's exposed bottom. As a switch, the rod was perfect, going through the air with a frightening swish, and landing with a sharp, penetrating splat, immediately eliciting a scream of agony. Involuntarily, Jean straightened up and put her hand on her burning hips. "Take your hands away and bend over, damn it! And spread your legs! Wider!" Responding without conscious thought, Jean dropped her head onto the bed and spread her legs wide, an act that prevented her from tensing her buttock muscles in an effort to minimize pain. Swish... smack... eeek... swish... smack... OW... swish... smack... STOP!... swish... smack... PLEASE! On and on, the blows rained down. Marian, in a frenzy of righteous anger, kept up a furious flow of words and commands. "You're going to wear that dress! Swish..smack...OW. Tell me you'll wear it! Swish...smack...eeek. Tell me! Swish...smack...I can't! On and on, Marian demanding, Jean refusing. Angry red welts crisscrossed the round mounds of Jean's hips, some on top of each other, some ending on the lips of her exposed cunt. The swish through the air was terrifying as she anticipated the inevitable smack followed by the shriek of pain forced out of her. The agony was intense and, afterwards, Jean could never explain, even to herself, why she didn't leap to her feet rather than staying there, bent over and exposed to the cruel rod. But she did!

Finally, it ended. The welts on Jean's bottom were swollen, livid and already having a purplish cast. Heat radiated outward from her skin while the throbbing ran throughout her body. With the bamboo rod held at her side, her arm tired, Marian asked, "Well, are you going to wear the dress or do you want me to start again? Or do you want to quit?" 

Jean slumped down on the bed, sobbing pitifully, finally gasping out, "Oh, please, I can't stand anymore! Please don't make me do it. Please! Oh, it hurts so badly! Please! I just can't."

Marian looked down at her, impressed despite her anger, at the strength and resolve that permitted her to take that punishment and still not completely surrender. Now, however, she was begging, not demanding. Jean was a pitiful yet, oddly, an erotic sight. Her bottom, or as Marian said, her 'little ass," protruded up attractively despite the crosshatching of red welts, and her cunt was completely exposed, lips spread wide as if aroused. Obviously, thoughts of modesty were nonexistent and she made no effort, as she usually did after a spanking, to hide herself. Marian couldn't help but feel sympathy and, admittedly a bit of arousal, as she looked at the pitiful little figure, and finally said, "Ok, you think about it. Tomorrow morning, I want you here wearing that costume and we'll see about fixing it. If not, well, you know. Now, go over and change. We have a lot of work to do to get ready for the party." For Marian, this was a decisive event. Obviously, much of Jean's reservations about exposing herself to Marian had been banished by precious spankings and, now, by the brutal caning. If she conceded defeat here, seduction was much closer.

Still sobbing, both from pain and the crisis she was facing, Jean ran back to her apartment and flung herself down on the bed. The sobs turned into a flood of tears as she thought of what had happened and contemplated an impossible decision. Some time passed before she could force herself to her feet and remove the costume. Another wave of embarrassment swept through her as she realized that the ruffled panties were still on the floor in the main house. For the first time she fully realized just how exposed she had been – and another twinge of pain went through her cunt where the bamboo cane had hit. Trying to put that image out of her mind, she quickly dressed, wincing as she put on her oldest, softest panties under a loose, light weight skirt. Even those clothes rubbed and chafed as she moved, making her aware of her bottom at every step.

Moving gingerly and hesitancy, not knowing just how to act, she joined Marian in the living room. Surprisingly, Marian acted almost as if nothing had happened, making not even the slightest reference to their confrontation a short time ago. This somewhat restored Jean's equanimity and she plunged into the work as they prepared the house for the party. Obviously, the incident and the dreaded decision were always in the back of her mind (not too far back), and she, to a surprising extent, was able to join in the fun of decorating. It was only at the end of the preparation that Marian said anything about the caning. Jean, without thinking, dropped into a hard chair and, immediately, jumped up, giving a squeal of pain. Rather thoughtlessly, Marian asked, "Does it hurt that bad?" The silly question and the fire coming from her rear end, and the residual anger from the beating, caused Jean to flare up with uncustomary profanity, loudly saying, "God damn it, of course it hurts! You must have taken the skin completely off of my behind! I can't move without hurting!" Then, contrite at the vehemence of her explosion, she continued more softly, "It's really bad when I sit down, but I can stand it when I'm up."

Now it was Marian's turn show remorse, "I'm sorry it hurts so much, dear. Here, let's see." Amazingly, considering her normal shyness, Jean simply turned around and raised her skirt and Marian gently pulled her panties down. What was revealed was a pair of hips that looked almost as if she had sat down on a waffle iron. The welts were not that regular, of course, but every inch was covered. Marian was shocked at the appearance, realizing that she had been carried away and inflicted more damage than she had realized. "Stay there, Jean, and I'll get some cream that will help." Return, she commented, "This cream is for sunburns and has an anesthesia agent in it. Bend over the chair and I'll spread it on."

Like a robot, Jean did as ordered, presenting her bare hips to Marian's ministrations, immune, for the moment at least, from her aversion from being touched, particularly by a woman. Putting a large dollop of the cream in her hand, Marian gently spread it over the inflamed skin. "Boy, your little ass is really hot – this should feel good." It did feel very good, the cooling and anesthetizing agent quickly began to cut the radiating heat, bringing relief to Jean, but as the pain diminished, she became more conscious of the fact of her exposure. That exposure suddenly became much greater as Marian pulled her panties the rest of the way down and off, saying, "Spread your legs wider so I can see where else you need this." Jean shuffled her feet apart, opening herself to Marian's eyes. She presented an incredibly explicit demonstration of female anatomy, with everything from the anal opening in the back to the clitoris in the front visible. Marian had never seen such a display. Kneeling down at eye level, a foot away, absolutely nothing was hidden and she stared in fascination. She had seen Judy's cunt, of course, but never this clearly. Finally, she broke off her overall scrutinizing and focused on the damage she had wreaked. She saw that two or three welts extended right into the division of her bottom right up to the opening, itself. In addition, several direct hits on the cunt lips had caused obvious swelling.

Taking some of the anesthetizing cream on her fingertips, she carefully stroked the welts down between the cheeks, actually touching the hole several times. Then, she moved the fingers down onto Jean's cunt lips and spread cream over the swollen areas. As she did so, she couldn't help but notice that the lips were pulled back and that the internal areas were well lubricated. 

This whole process was traumatic for Jean. As her legs spread, she became intensely aware that literally everything was on view, and her first reaction was to jerk back and conceal herself. If it hadn't been for the agonizing pain, she probably would have done so, particularly as she felt Marian's fingers touching her most intimate areas. However, the soothing cream on those fingers not only anesthetized the painful welts, it also, somehow sedated her aversion to being touched. On the contrary, the touches between her ass cheeks sent a funny feeling through her, a feeling that became more intense when Marian gently stroked her swollen cunt lips with the cream. Unbeknown to her, the stimulation from that gentle touch caused those signs of sexual arousal, the spreading of the lips and the lubrication. Of course, she would have been appalled and mortified if she had known, so it undoubtedly was better that Marian stood up at that point and drew her to her feet. "Ok, that should feel better. Now, I think we've done enough for today. You go rest for a while before Jim comes home. Remember, wear the costume over tomorrow morning and we'll see about taking it in." She just assumed that the issue was determined and, in general, she was very pleased with the entire episode.

Of course, she was right about Jean's decision. Jean really had little choice when she thought about it calmly. She finally rationalized the whole situation by convincing herself that she wouldn't be showing anything that wasn't on television or everywhere else anyway. She would just have to be very careful not to bend over. She felt much better the following morning although her bottom still hurt and her cunt was still tender. She had concealed her wounds from Jim the previous night to keep him from being concerned about her treatment by Marian, and fortunately, he was too tired to be interested in her cunt. As she dressed she remembered his comments the previous day, and as she looked in the mirror she was forced to admit that, aside from its lack of coverage, she did look very pretty. She suddenly realized that while she had considered herself to be pretty in the past, "sexy" was something new. It was a different thought and, she admitted, surprising herself, an interesting one.

They worked on the costume and were able to take in the surplus in the waist and hips, but their efforts on the top were less successful. Marian commented, "I guess you'll just have to careful about bending over. Keep your back straight and bend your knees. You really look pretty in that costume. You know, I always wanted to wear an outfit like that, but I'm just too big, too tall." She giggled and added, "In addition, my tits are just too big, too! I'd stick up way above the top!" Jean was surprised at that idea. She'd always envied tall women, particularly those with figures like Marian's. Clothes just seemed to be made for taller women. She also was continually surprised at Marian's expressions, like "tits," "ass" and "cunt," even occasionally, fuck, words that Jean knew but didn't feel that she should use. Marian, however, just used them and, somehow, made more proper words like breast, buttocks and vagina seem almost prissy. Like saying "sexual intercourse" rather than "screwing", a word that, surprisingly, Jean did use. Using "fucking" rather than "screwing" was inconceivable.

In any case, Halloween came and the guests filled the large living room, dressed in all manner of costumes. As she entered the room the first time, passing out snacks, she felt that every eye was on her. Slowly she realized that, in most cases, she was almost invisible, a part of the furniture, as the eyes passed right over her to other guests. Oddly enough, as time passed, she found her costume to be very comfortable as she got used to the short skirt. She felt "dressed up" at a party, acting as a character different from her usual conservative self. As that basically anonymous character, she began to enjoy herself, feeling much freer with her build-in inhibitions under control. She quit worrying about her skirt raising up to reveal her thighs as she offered drinks to seated guest, even, for the first time in her life, half hoping that someone would see. She became almost giddy at this first taste of semi-sexual freedom. At one point, when a couple sitting on a low couch reached for her drink tray, she bent right over, wondering if anyone behind her could see her ruffled panties. However, she, for the moment, forgot the loose top and non-restricting bra, and suddenly she woke up to the feeling of her breasts swinging free before the entranced stares of the guests. She straightened abruptly, almost spilling the tray of drinks, and, blushing furiously, turned away in a panic as her conservative self took command again. The rest of the evening went by in a haze as she rigidly held herself in a safe posture, averting her eyes, wondering each time she served someone if that person had seen something earlier.

She was relieved when the party was finally over and cleaning up began. Much could be left to the next day, of course, but not everything. Marian complimented her on how helpful and efficient she had been and Jean basked in the praise, putting her indiscretions behind her. However, she had one more faux pas to commit. Rob Simmons, who usually had no role in housekeeping, was straightening up the furniture and taking things to the kitchen. Engrossed in the cleaning up process, Jean was paying no attention, bending over to pick up plates, reaching down for discarded items and, in general, forgetting the "stay erect" strategy to preserve her modesty. As a result, Rob was treated to an excellent, and frequent, view of her bare thighs above the fishnet hose as well as the ruffled panties. Even better, from his point of view (literally), when she leaned down when facing him, both breasts were clearly visible, including both nipples. In fact, one time when she reached out and sideways as she bent over, one breast actually fell completely out of the dress. That she could hardly overlook and she straightened up abruptly, catching his eye focused on the exposed breast. He looked away immediately, of course, but the damage was done. Mortified and horribly embarrassed, Jean hurried with the rest of the cleanup, said goodnight and hurried out.

Later that night, Marian and Rob talked about the event, inevitably getting to Jean's role. Rob was quite animated when he talked of, "Seeing her tits as she bent over, particularly when one fell out. They really looked nice and firm – bigger than I expected for someone so small! Her legs looked very sexy too, especially when her skirt was up to her panties. I wonder how many other people got a look at her."




The Seduction of Jean Johnson Ch. 02



"I'm sure that a number did. I think that she was a bit careless for a while. She does have nice tits. I haven't touched them yet, but I'm sure they're firm. One other thing. After I used the rod on her the other day, I rubbed some lotion on her ass and cunt and her cunt was open and wet. I deliberately felt her and she didn't pull away, so I think I'm making good progress. You know, I really like her and I hope we can all enjoy this. I'll take it slow, though." 

Fortunately for Jean's equilibrium, Rob left on another trip on Monday morning so she was spared the further embarrassment of meeting him until time eased the awkwardness. Actually, she didn't see a lot of him, anyway since he was normally out all day or working in his home office when not on the road and out of town the rest of the time. He was in his middle fifties, in very good shape (travel burned off the calories) and seemed quite convivial and friendly, if usually preoccupied. One of the first rules Jean learned when starting work was to stay out of his office except for occasional cleaning and then to be extremely careful not to disturb any papers. She had been very careful and, after showing him her breast, and, she was certain, her panties, she intended to avoid any contact for a while!

Gradually, these few little (?) problems or indiscretions faded in significance for Jean, but she still remembered that heady feeling of freedom from her self-limiting moral rules. Jim, Marian and, as she heard indirectly from Marian, Rob, all thought that she had really looked nice, and, truth be told, so had she. The most obvious outcome of all this was her selection of somewhat shorter skirts and less concealing bras. She still insisted on staying completely dressed in the evening even when Rob Simmons was out of town and she was watching a movie with Marian. Nonetheless, while it didn't show, of course, her thought processes and view of proper behavior gradually were changing. She even shocked herself one day by referring to her "tits," blushing deeply immediately afterwards. The real change from the Halloween incidents, particularly the caning with the bamboo rod, was her relationship with Marian. Prior to that, Jean had been spanked because of something she had done of not done. The caning was done to force her to do something she didn't want to do. The end result was to firmly establish Marian, in her mind, as the unquestioned dominant person, she the submissive – a personal domination, not just the employee-employer relationship, although that obviously played a role. It was a subtle difference, but a real one. That did not, however, mean that a disagreement over deeply held beliefs could not lead to another major altercation. This type of confrontation occurred several weeks later when Rob Simmons was on a two-week trip to the southwest. It was the next step in Marian's seduction campaign.



The Seduction of Jean Johnson Ch. 03



As was a daily occurrence when Rob was out of town, Jean came into the main part of the house to keep Marian company by, as usual, watching a movie on TV. As was not unusual, Marian was taking a bubble bath before settling down for the evening. Sometimes she bathed early in the evening and put on a dressing gown to be comfortable as they watched. Other evenings, she waited until the movie was over and relaxed by soaking in the tub after Jean left. As always, while she waited, Jean sat down in the bedroom, turning on the TV. Hearing a call from the bathroom, she walked to the door and asked, "What is it Marian?"

She was shocked to hear the reply, "Come in and wash my back, Jean, I can't reach it very well." Jean knew that Marian had strained her shoulder that afternoon reaching up to a shelf, but the request came as a shock. never having done anything like that before.

Hesitantly, she pushed open the door and, averting her eyes from the tub, asked "You...you... want me to wash your back?"

"Yes, of course. It's hard to do myself. Here's the washcloth." It seemed to be an innocent enough request, but, Jean had never been even that intimate with another woman, and it bothered her. Reluctantly, and not being able to think of a non-offensive way to say that she didn't want to do it, Jean took the cloth, covered it with soap, and began rubbing it gently in small circles over Marian's broad back, down to the water level. She was surprised to find that the sensation was not unpleasant and that, really, there was nothing "wrong" with it. Perhaps more personal than she liked, but nothing wrong. Marian sighed, "Oh that feels good!" Then, leaning further forward, she added, "Go further down, dear."

Without conscious thought of anything amiss, Jean let her hand holding the washcloth work down through the bubbles into the water, going past Marian's waist onto her lower back. Without any comment, Marian raised herself slightly, and, suddenly, Jean realized that she was washing her hips, even, briefly, encountering the start of their division. Startled and shocked, she jerked her hand back out of the water and up to Marian's shoulders, and, thinking that she had carelessly washed too far, gasped out, "Oh, I'm sorry!"

Marian's reply, however, was even more shocking. Leaning back completely, she replied, "Don't be silly, dear, that felt very nice. Now, do my front."

It took several seconds for her request to get into Jean's numbed brain, but when it did, it was like a bombshell. Without thinking, her eyes went down where Marian's large breasts floated on the water, the rosy-pink nipples, firmly erect, peeking through the froth of the bubble bath. Frozen there briefly, Jean couldn't take her eyes off them, fascinated and tempted despite herself. Coming out of her stupor, she pulled back and, still staring at the exposed breasts, squeaked out, "Oh, I couldn't! I can't do that! It'd be wrong!"

"Now, don't be silly, girl! There's nothing wrong with washing my breasts. Your hands felt good on my back -- now do the front!"

The last was said with a tone that Jean had come to recognize as "Do what I tell you or you're in deep trouble!" Her hand involuntarily started forward at the command, but jerked back as she pulled away and got to her feet, fearfully saying, "I just can't!" Hiding her face with her hands, she repeated, I just can't!" This was far more traumatic than the French maid costume problem because called for her to actually do something, not just exposing herself. She just stood there, trembling, not knowing what to do.

Then, like the voice of doom, she heard Marian icily say, "Go out into the bedroom and wait for me. I'll be out as soon as I've finished my bath."

Jean stumbled out of the bathroom, hardly able to control her shaking as she slumped into a chair. She was in very deep trouble. Unquestionably, she had insulted Marian and was going to pay the consequences. Her mind was in turmoil, and, as time passed as Marian unhurriedly finished her bath, she went back and forth. "Maybe I should have done what she wanted. All she wanted was for me to wash her breasts with the cloth! I didn't want to, but maybe I should have anyway. But, she could have done that herself -- why did she want me to do it? And it wasn't right. I shouldn't be touching her breasts. I shouldn't even have looked at them. Gods, though, they were big! What's she going to do? Maybe I should have done it....." Time passed at a turtle's pace and her mind just ran the same thoughts over and over, leaving her, eventually in a puddle of fear. Waiting for the inevitable chastisement seemed worse than the eventual reality -- but, of course, it wasn't. Finally the bathroom door opened and her doom appeared.

Marian walked into the room, the image of a freshly-bathed woman, her skin pink and glowing, well creamed and pampered. Wrapped in a warm, fluffy robe, presumably relaxed and calm after her bath, one would have expected to see a happy expression on her face. Unfortunately for any hope for leniency for Jean, her expression was menacing, promising retribution. Her first words confirmed what the expression promised. "Stand up, take your panties down and bend over the bed! Quickly!"

Jean never thought of disobeying. Almost by reflex action, she was on her feet reaching under her skirt for the top of her panties, slipping them down around her thighs and placing her head and shoulders flat on the bed. Her back was angled upwards and as Marian flipped her skirt up, the curves of her buttocks were displayed in all of their beauty: pink skin over well fleshed cheeks providing a lovely target for what was to come. "All right, young woman -- explain yourself!"

"Please, Marian, I just couldn't do it. It's not right for me to touch your breasts. I'm a woman too and it's not right for one woman to touch another. I've been taught that all my life. I'll...I'll do your back whenever you want, I'll do almost anything you want, but I can't touch you other places! Please forgive me."

"No Jean, I won't forgive you without punishing you first. You'll get five hard blows from this ruler for your actions in there." Waving an 18" wooden ruler which was about 1" in width, she went on, "However, the punishment will continue until you are willing to give up that senseless, puritanical viewpoint and promise to do as I ask. We went through this at Halloween and I thought that you had learned. Now, spread your legs and get ready. You can stop this after

As instructed, Jean spread her legs wide apart, presenting a view of her cunt that would have been inconceivable for her not long ago, but now she did it without conscious thought. She knew that protests were useless, but she tried anyway. "Please, Marian, just give me the five. I can't do what you wa.....OW!" Before she could finish her plea, the flat, flexible ruler came down with a loud "whacking" noise, leaving a wide red stripe on the previously unblemished skin. Before the pain had even a moment to subside another "smack" brought another shriek of agony from Jean. Smack, smack, smack, the rest of the five punishment blows came in quick order, crisscrossing Jean's flesh with crimson bands and eliciting louder and louder cries of pain.

"Ok, those are for your actions tonight. Are you going to do as I ask?"

"Oooh, please! I can't! Please stop!"

Without further conversation, the ruler began a rhythmic, almost metronome-like beat, one "smack" after another. Each smack was followed immediately by a cry of anguish and a plea for mercy. "Please, please, I can't, I can't, OUCH, please stop, OW, I can't....." Smack, smack......on and on......the smacks louder and louder, the cries and shrieks fainter and fainter as Jean's reserves of strength waned. Soon she was just moaning and crying rather than screaming. Suddenly, Marian changed angles, bringing the ruler upwards directly across the broadly spread cunt, eliciting a new, different cry of agony. Three more quick whacks hit the cunt lips, bringing a final collapse and surrender from Jean. "God, stop it! I'll do it! Anything. Please quit." The submission was faint and gasping, but clear -- complete capitulation. Ironically, if she had held out one or two more blows, she might have won, for Marian, not a sadist, just didn't want to hurt her any more. Still, she took advantage of her victory.

"Look at me, Jean!" As Jean, with difficulty raised up and looked around, she saw that Marian's robe had come open during the spanking and both breasts were completely exposed. Marian stepped forward until her right breast was directly in front of Jean's face and commanded, "Kiss my nipple!" Completely under her control now, Jean leaned forward and obediently placed a kiss right on the tip. "Now, suck it!" Seemingly in an almost hypnotic state, Jean took the nipple between her lips and gently sucked it and, guided by Marian's hands, repeated it on the left breast. Her victory secure, Marian pulled Jean to her feet and embraced her as Jean rested her head between the breasts and cried while returning the hug. Actually, Marian had taken a real risk that she was pushing Jean too far and too fast by beating her so badly and then demanding such a clear declaration of submission, but she had won.

Fortunately, Jim was still studying when Jean returned and she was able to conceal her flaming bottom and throbbing cunt. The following morning, after he was gone, she surveyed the damage to her hips in the mirror and was relieved to see that, unlike the bamboo rod, the flat ruler did not leave welts, although there were red-purple spots that were destined to become bruises. She felt her cunt and, while there was a little residual soreness, the swelling had disappeared overnight. Thus reassured about her physical condition, she went to work with only the remembered and future trauma to worry her. She had lain awake for a long time, reliving the ordeal of the previous night, haunted by the immoral contact with Marian's breasts more than the spanking. The thought that she had not only seen those breasts but actually had kissed and sucked both of the nipples -- well, there are no words to describe the jumble of thoughts that plagued her.

All her life, the idea of homosexual, or lesbian, contact with another woman had seemed to be obscene, beyond the pale. She had never conceived of any combination of events or pressure that would have excused her actions. Yet she had done so and, hanging over her and dominating her thoughts, was the realization that she was going to be given the same options that night -- accept Marian domination and go even further down the road to degradation, suffer another furious beating and, after great suffering, take that same road, or categorically refuse and sever relations. She couldn't do the latter without losing her home and job and disrupt her's and Jim's lives. It made no sense to be beaten into submission and end up doing the same immoral acts, but she also couldn't meekly do what she always had considered to be sinful. A no-win situation but the time of choice was bound to come.

Still, the day, itself, was completely normal. Nothing was said about the previous night and the comments and conversation between Jean and Marian were as innocuous as usual -- nothing consequential or alluding to any potential confrontation coming that evening. Nonetheless, Jean felt, all day, a mounting pressure that approached a climax as evening approached. Jim and Jean had dinner and, as usual when Rob Simmons was out of town, she, this time with foreboding, joined Marian. Unlike the rest of the day, the atmosphere was electric. While the conversation was neutral and friendly, both seemed to be filling time until the main event occurred.

With no particular inflection, Marian announced, as she had done on other evenings, "I think I'll take a bath. Would you run the water for me, dear?" Moving like a robot programmed to follow orders even if it led to its destruction, Jean quietly went into the bathroom and began filling the tub, sprinkling in Marian's favorite bubble bath liquid. She wasn't letting herself think, merely acting. Unlike other evening when the bath was late, she had the feeling that she wasn't going home after filling the tub. She did, however, expect to finish and leave the room before Marian entered, but she was startled out of her rigidly held composure as Marian came up behind her, doffed her robe, and stood completely naked, saying, "Please help me into the tub, dear. It gets slippery with that bubble bath soap already in."

Jean was stunned and couldn't help but stare at the voluptuous figure before her. She couldn't avert her eyes to avoid the seeming acres of nude flesh before her, nor frankly, in her shocked state, did she try. The large breasts, hanging pendulously as she bent over to step in, the triangular forest of hair crowning her Mons pubis and, as she turned, the rounded curves of her hips -- all were mesmerizing, even for someone primed to be scandalized by such sights. Finally facing the crossroads that she had feared all day, Jean did what she had known she would do -- capitulate! She couldn't make that catastrophic choice, giving up her job, home and, perhaps, her future, nor could she suffer another agonizing spanking when she knew that she would surrender in the end anyway. Reaching for the washcloth, she, without prompting, began to wash Marian's back.

As she had the day before, she worked the cloth downward, washing in circles until she reached the lower back and the beginning of the buttocks. Delaying as long as possible, she repeated the process going upwards as Marian sighed, "Ah, that feels wonderful." Then, without further comment, Marian leaned back against the rear of the tub, presenting, as yesterday, her breasts floating in the bubble-strewn water, the erect, pink nipples providing a focal point for Jean's transfixed eyes. Resigned to the inevitable, she began washing at the shoulders and worked down over Marian's chest and, finally, onto the left breast. She watched her hand as it seemingly moved of its own volition over the soft, but firm, mound of flesh. The thin soapy cloth slid smoothly over the skin and, despite herself, the sensual sensation overcame her reluctance to touch the other woman. As her hand moved under the breast, lifting and gentling squeezing, she became entranced by the unexpected weight and resilience. Added to that, the turgid nipple, easily one-half inch in diameter and three-quarters of an inch long, pushing against the palm of her hand through the thin cloth, was almost erotic.

Suddenly, Jean awoke from her almost trancelike condition, realizing that she had washed the same breast three times. Blushing profusely, she moved to the other one, giving it a quick but through washing. Not knowing what to do next, she let her hand move below the breasts into the water onto Marian's abdomen and stomach. Marian, who had just been enjoying the manipulation of her breasts with her eyes closed, indicated her approval by arching up slightly, making her middle more accessible. As she did so, Jean's qualms returned, multiplied many times. The whiteness of Marian's skin showed clearly through the water, concealed only partly by the bubbles, and, just barely visible, her cunt hair. As Jean reluctantly began rubbing the wash cloth over the slightly rounded stomach she couldn't take her eyes away from that triangle of hair, dreading the fearful moment that she knew was coming.

Once again, her hand seemed to move without conscious direction from her brain. She watched in that trance-like state as the fingers manipulating the wash cloth moved downwards in a circular path, over the navel and crossing from hip bone to hip bone. Near the hair line, at the hair line and, finally, into the hair, the forbidden pubic area. She was fascinated to see the foaming up as the hair caught the soap from the cloth. She seemed disconnected, yet she, still, even though the cloth, felt the changing texture as she began to wash Marian's most intimate charms. As her hand reached the triangle of hair the legs automatically parted, welcoming and giving access to the secret area between. Accepting that invitation, Jean's hand slid between the thighs and began washing Marian's cunt.

For Jean, the situation was confusing as well as shocking. She watched the hand, obviously knew that it was hers, and actually could feel the separation of the cunt lips, but it still seemed that she was detached from what was going on. Suddenly, she was startled into a more aware condition as Marian pressed upwards toward her hand and even writhed against it, clearly aroused by the manipulation of her vaginal area. Jean's fear and aversion returned as she was pulled out of her mental stupor, suddenly unable any longer to isolate herself from the sexual nature of the situation. Blushing profusely, she quickly ran the wash cloth through Marian's crotch into her anal area (enticing another surge against her hand by Marian) and, anticlimaxally, if there is such a word, down her legs. Ironically, part of the genesis of her profuse blushing was the realization that Marian's reactions had stimulated an unacceptable hint of sexual excitement in her own system!

Finally, with the careful washing of Marian's feet, the ordeal seemed to be over. However, Marian prolonged the torment by saying, as she got up, "Take the spray and rinse me off, and then get a towel off of the rack." As Jean directed the spray over the nude body before her, she was forced to see all parts nicely displayed as the residual foam was washed away. Taking a heated towel from the rack, she began a vigorous drying of Marian's shoulders and back, working down to the hips. She ran the towel over the buttocks and, forcing herself not to think of what she was touching, dried the crevice in between. At that point, Marian revolved, and the entire naked front was presented for drying.

Starting at the neck, Jean worked her way down, drying each breast separately, all too aware of the weight and resilience as she did so. Bending over as she moved further down, over the stomach, she found herself almost at eye level with the blond thatch of wet, matted pubic hair. The towel quickly absorbed the moisture, leaving a springy and curly mound crowning the entrance to Marian's cunt, an entrance made more accessible as her legs parted widely. Trying to keep her mind blank and acting as matter-of-factly as possible, Jean slid the towel inward and gently dried the cunt, uncomfortably aware, as she did so, of the different texture and feel of the hair lined slit. Despite herself and all of her hang-ups, she couldn't resist a quick peek as she pulled her hand out, seeing, for the first time in her life, the cunt lips of another woman. Suddenly embarrassed, she pulled her eyes away guiltily and quickly dried both of Marian's legs, ending what unquestionably was the most traumatic experience of her life.

Actually, of course, really nothing of moment had happened. As Jim would point out later, nurses (male and female) wash female patients all the time. A masseuse will rub a client's entire body without hesitancy. For Jean, however, her background, her beliefs, her inexperience, all made this a harrowing incident out of all proportion to what had occurred. The entire event probably took less time to happen than it did to describe, but Jean's internal conflict lasted much longer! She was awake much of the night, filled with conflicting emotions -- she had done what she knew she had to do, but her conscience kept telling her that she shouldn't have. At the same time, despite her qualms, it had been interesting to feel Marian's breasts, even though the washcloth and towel. Things that had been traumatic at the time, now, in retrospect, seemed to be at least interesting. Thus, rationality battled with illogical training and moral imperatives. Ultimately, rationality prevailed since her obvious lack of options made it irrefutable that she had been forced to do what she had done, thus easing her conscience. This decision was made easier when she finally admitted to herself that the whole thing hadn't been so bad, after all. In addition, though this was still something she wouldn't permit herself to recognize that night or for some time to come, she had been aroused by seeing and touching Marian's nude body.




The Seduction of Jean Johnson Ch. 03



Still, regardless of her own acceptance of her coerced sinful behavior -- as she still thought of it -- she didn't tell Jim of what she had been forced to do. She was certain that he would angrily react, blaming both her and Marian for what he would consider their totally depraved behavior. Even worse, he probably would be more principled than she and they would end up without a place to live. Besides, regardless of rationalizations that eased her conscience, she, irrationally, still did feel guilty. 



The Seduction of Jean Johnson Ch. 04



It is amazing how events that seem to be extraordinary and should be the focus of all conversation, the subject that should push all others into the background, can be ignored while trivial activities continue and banal subjects can be discussed. Thus, as Jean worked and she and Marian talked, no reference to the previous night's proceedings was made, even by implication. Seemingly, to Marian it was a non-event, not worth referring to. Jean, of course, was not going to raise the subject. However, at least to her, it was not a non-event and she certainly was apprehensive about the coming evening.

As it happened, that evening was very similar to the past one. Marian had a leisurely bath attended, once again, by Jean. The changes were few and slight. Perhaps Marian raised up a bit higher so that Jean wash further down her hips when doing her back. Perhaps Jean held Marian's breasts a bit longer as she washed them. Certainly, however, Jean looked at Marian's body more closely. Certainly she didn't feel that disconnection as her hand ran over that body. Certainly, also, Marian reacted more strongly and noticeably when her cunt was being washed. In other words, changes were incremental, and as the week went on, they both became freer. Jean made no effort to avoid looking, washed everywhere and everything without hesitation. There was, however, one fortuitous event that was of significant.

After four days of serving as Marian's bather, she became careless when using the sprayer to rinse off the soap from Marian's body. Suddenly, the sprayer took on a life of its own and jumped out of Jean's hands, showering the room and drenching her before she could find the control. The situation was really quite comical when the flood was under control and, laughing, Marian quickly took advantage of the accident, saying, "You'd better get out of those clothes! Here, let me help." Before Jean could think clearly, she found herself down to her bra and panties, both of which turned out to be soaked also. "Oh my heavens! I can't believe that you got that wet. You'd better take them off too. I'll get a robe that you can wear while things dry." So, in a matter of moments, Jean was completely naked and, to her own surprise, was not really embarrassed by her exposure. Probably this was due to the suddenness and humor of the experience, and, also, to the fact that Marian treated it as a matter of course. In any case, the next evening when Marian off-handedly said that she might as well undress rather than getting soaked again, she did so without hesitation. From that time onwards, both women were nude during the bath sessions.

By the end of Rob's two week trip, the evening bath was an established custom. Marian made it very clear that she enjoyed the sybaritic experience, saying that she always had wanted a naked serving girl to wait on her. She said this with a laugh, but there was no question that she meant it. Surprisingly, Jean, once she got past the original trauma, took pleasure in it also. She admitted to herself, not out loud, that she really got pleasure from the feel of Marian's body as she ran the wash cloth over her. It was very sensuous. Even more surprising, she recognized that she even liked the position of being that "serving girl," kneeling on the floor beside the tub, giving her mistress a bath! There was no question that the series of spankings, combined with the more severe caning and paddling, had made her more submissive and that Marian's dominant position was even more secure. 

However, the last day that they would be alone, Marian introduced a new idea that reopened the door to Jean's fears. After the bath, a late one this time, Marian casually commented, "You know, my skin has been getting much dryer since I hurt my shoulder. I just haven't been able to rub cream into it the way I should. Maybe next week when Rob will be gone again, you can cream me up. I think it can wait until then." She said it in a matter-of-fact voice which assumed that Jean would have no reservations and that it was a small matter. Of course, Jean did have reservations and she did not see it as a small matter. All her concerns flooded back in as she realized the Marian expected her to rub cream into her bare skin – no wash cloth providing a symbolic separation between them. To Jean, that thin piece of cloth was a major psychological support that permitted her to rationalize, to balance her moral stand with practicality. Now that was to be removed, and she, once more, was torn.

Several days later, she and Jim were sitting in the apartment while he took a break from studying. She obviously was nervous and on edge, and he finally asked, "Jean, what on earth is wrong with you? You're bouncing around like a cat. You seem tense and worried. Is something wrong? Are you not getting along with Marian?" His question and concern caused the dam to burst. She blurted out the whole sequence of events, all the things she had been holding back because she didn't want to worry him and, most important, the things that she was certain would upset and disgust him. One of the things that had originally pulled them together was their conservative background, including sexual matters. Jim was an attractive man, just under six feet tall, dark hair and quite good looking. One would have expected him to be popular, perhaps be a fraternity man, certainly to have serious interest in, and success with, women. However, he just didn't fit in with the drinking, promiscuous crowd and he had the same engrained moral restrictions that inflicted Jean. Thus, he concentrated, with success, on his pre-mad studies that eventually got him into med school with a scholarship and grant. Meeting Jean in their senior year changed things somewhat, but the small town, Midwestern attitudes remained. This somewhat limited their sexual conduct to basic intercourse although he had been hinting at some more advanced activities as time passed.

In any case, despite her fears of his reactions, she, crying all the time, described the series of events, starting with the pre-Halloween caning, the inadvertent exposure of her breast and her panties and concluding with the ruler paddling that had forced her to bathe Marian. She expected an explosion or, at least frozen condemnation, as she described the nudity and the new demand (as she saw it) for creaming Marian's body. Finished, she waited for the denunciation that was sure to come, the censure for her depraved actions, the compromising of her (and their) principles. Shockingly, it didn't come. To her utter amazement, Jim only sympathized with the painful treatment she had received and was very appreciative of her sacrifice to make sure that they wouldn't have to move. He wasn't the least bit concerned with her breast exposure, even thought that it was amusing. Finally, he saw absolutely nothing wrong with her activities with Marian as long as she, personally, didn't mind. As he pointed out, even the hospital provided therapeutic massages to men and women. Touching Marian, he said, was not inherently wrong and, again, if it didn't bother Jean, there certainly was nothing moral or immoral involved. He simply said, "I think that you should do anything she wants you to do. Rubbing cream into her skin probably would feel good. In fact, I wouldn't mind doing it myself!" This last statement was said with a laugh, but it still amazed Jean that he would even kid about it. It seemed that being in a more cosmopolitan environment might have liberalized some of his views as the experiences with Marian have liberalized hers. Nonetheless, while she did still have qualms, his approbation relieved her mind and, suddenly, the idea actually touching Marian seemed less threatening.

On the day that Rob left, Jean felt considerable apprehension and, at the same time, anticipation. Things, however, were quite normal as they relaxed, watching a television program. At its conclusion, Marian stretched and said, "I think a bath would feel good now. Run the water for me, would you, dear." It was a polite request, but there was no question that it would be answered positively. Jean ran the water, put in the bubble bath lotion and, without really thinking about it, stripped off her own clothes as Marian came in, also nude. Jean made no effort to avoid looking at the voluptuous body as Marian stepped into the tub and sat down. The bathing went as it had the previous times, ending with the spraying off of the soap and the drying with a warm towel. Both, servant and mistress, in fact if not name, now really enjoyed this step-by-step procedure. Then, the new part began. Without being told, Jean took a very large, white towel and spread it on the bed, as if she had done this many times in the past. Marian lay face down and awaited the great pleasure of being pampered by her naked serving girl. That girl looked down at the nude body and felt a funny thrill go through her as she took the bottle of warmed, fragrant body lotion, and prepared to spread it on Marian's back.

Starting at the neck, Jean slowly rubbed the cream in, moving her hands in circles over the skin. Moving downwards, she smoothed it over Marian's back and down to her waist, massaging it in gently. When she reached the swell of the hips she hesitated briefly but then went on, applying the solution first to one buttock and then the other. As she did so Marian spread her legs further apart, opening herself in back and, inevitably, Jean's fingers slid into the crevice between them. The touch was brief, but at the contact, Marian said, "Ooh, that feels good. I've been a little sore there, dear. Put a little more of the cream on me – it really feels nice." Jean was startled at the "suggestion," but, after faltering for a moment, resigned herself. Putting a dollop of the cream on her fingertips, she ran them between the cheeks and gently spread it down the division, right over the anal opening. She stroked the area several times before moving on down Marian's body, eliciting a contented sigh each time she went over the that opening. Jean had the funniest feeling as she did something she would have considered impossible to do just a month before, not really sexually exciting, but something suspiciously similar. She continued downwards and, finishing the legs, waited for Marian to turn over.

On her back, Marian was a picture of female pulchritude. Even lying flat, her large breasts projected upwards into cones with only a little slumping downward. Her stomach was somewhat rounded, at its base a thick bush of curly dark blond hair. Jean had seen her naked a number of times by then, but seeing her like that was a revelation. It was a very sexy body. Starting at the shoulders again, Jean stroked downward onto the right breast, or "tit" as she was coming to think of it, spreading the creamy lotion over it, working it into the skin while massaging it down to the nipple. The nipple was erect and hard and Jean was enthralled by the feel of them pushing against her palm as she slid her hand over them. Putting cream on both hands, she cupped and lifted the breast and, actually, fondled it before moving to the other. She gave that tit the same care, fondling and gently squeezing it as she rubbed in the cream. Marian left her in no doubt that she enjoyed the manipulation of her breasts as she went "umm" and "ah" several times. 

Finally, she moved her hands downwards just as she had in the tub, but now nothing was hidden by soapy water. Her eyes went past the stomach with its deep navel, drawn to the pubic patch which stood out, fluffy and springy looking, and very feminine looking. She spread the lotion over the stomach down to the hair and then onto the left leg. She did the top and outside of the thigh and, as she moved her hand to the inside, Marian spread her legs to give her room. Jean's fingers applied the cream to the inter thigh, the edge of her hand brushing the cunt hair as she did so, causing Marian to open her legs even wider. Jean worked the rest of the way down the leg and started back up the other one. While she worked the cream in, her eyes were focused on the juncture of the two legs where Marian's cunt was completely exposed and obviously aroused. Even someone as naive and inexperienced as Jean could not be aware of the spread cunt lips with the very red hole open between them. She didn't want to look at it, but it was like a magnet to her eyes. As she did the upper inner thigh she watched her hand coming closer and closer and, when her hand again brushed the hair, a sort of tremor went through her. She quickly pulled back as she finished the creaming, asking, "How was that? Did I do it right?" Marian's response was effusive, saying, "Oh, Jean, that was wonderful! I don't think that my skin has ever felt so good! I certainly can't do that for myself! You have a wonderful touch!" The praise made Jean feel good, of course, and she had to admit that the experience had been very pleasant, but the obvious sexual overtones sent a nibble of fear coursing through her. Still, it had been very pleasant!

As time passed, these pseudo-sexual encounters continued whenever Rob wasn't home. However, each one seemed just a bit different, just a bit more intimate. Marian made no moves that, of themselves, would cause a strong negative from Jean, just small incremental advances. For example, when Jean creamed her back, Marian encouraged her to spend more time on her hips, specifically the area between them. That first time Jean had run her fingers over the anal opening, or asshole, Marian had reacted favorably, even asking for special treatment there. The next time Jean spread the lotion cream over her hips, Marian spread her legs widely, obviously inviting similar treatment. Hesitantly, Jean complied, dragging her fingers through the entire channel and, finally, lightly caressing the opening at least thirty seconds, causing perceptible enjoyment by Marian. The next time Marian encouraged her even more by her reactions, with the titillation lasting longer as a result. Thus, bit-by-bit, Jean became inured to the intimate massage and came to consider it to be just a part of the process. However, inevitably, her slippery, cream coated finger slipped into the asshole, eliciting a "uumm" from Marian. Jean was shocked and embarrassed the first time, but inserting a finger ultimately became an integral part of the massage.

The same process of advancing intimacy occurred in the bath. Lying back in the tub one evening, Marian suggested to Jean that she do her breasts with just her hand, not the wash cloth. Jean was happy to comply since she had grown to really enjoy feeling Marian's tits. So, covering her hands with soap, she fondled the wet breasts, using both hands to lift and gently squeeze each separately, feeling the rubbery nipples pushing into her palms as she cupped them. Interestingly enough, she still wasn't thinking of that activity as being sexual – sensual perhaps, but not sexual. The next step, however, was a bit more blatant and Marian sighed and said, "Oh, that feels so good! Go on down over my stomach, dear." Without thinking, Jean did just that, gently massaging Marian's skin in sweeping circles, enjoying the feel of the slippery skin on her hands. Suddenly, however, the circle ran into cunt hair – a very different feel! As she did so Marian spread her legs, opening the path to her cunt, clearly implying that she wanted the stroking to continue on down. Jean had already washed that area with the cloth, but now her hand was bare. The invitation was clear, however, and her hand, as if attracted by a lodestone, slipped down between Marian's thighs.

It was very peculiar to actually feel the soft hair with her bare fingers and, as she moved further down, even the lips felt soft. Her hand slid over the plane of the cunt, not delving in, but definitely feeling the separation into two halves. It was the most peculiar situation for Jean. She had her hand on another woman's cunt, but there was little sexual sensation, just that same sensual, pleasant feeling she had received from fondling the sleek, wet breasts earlier. Oddly enough, Jean didn't even feel any real qualms about all of this. Just a month or two ago, she had been devastated at even the thought of seeing, much less touching, Marian's breasts. Now, she enjoyed that "depraved" act and ran her hand over a cunt without being concerned, not even considering it to be a sexual act. Still, it was a cunt, and another Rubicon was passed, and Marian was sure that Jean was ready for the next step in the seduction process.

During the next few weeks, Rob was gone only a few days at a time, and on those days, the bathing and creaming continued with no new activities introduced. Jean, during this time, became quite comfortable in this intimacy, enjoying, more and more, "the naked serving girl" relationship. Then, a two week trip was scheduled and Marian was ready for the next stage.

On the first evening, Marian took her bath early with nothing unusual happening until she was out and being toweled off by Jean. When she stood erect her breasts were almost at Jean's face, and, when the drying was finished, she leaned forward, placing her nipple right at Jean's mouth. Placing her hands behind Jean's head, she gently pulled forward, leaving no doubt of what she wanted. Actually, this had happened several times before, and, unlike that first incident, Jean complied without really thinking. Kissing the nipple first, she took it into her mouth and gently sucked it, even flicking her tongue over it for a second. She repeated the act on the other nipple, after which, Marian almost hugged, and almost smothered her, between the two massive tits before going out into the bedroom. As said before, this act was not unusual, and, like the bathing, Jean had come to actually enjoy it. Her moralistic concerns had been allayed and whether consciously or not, she felt a sense of security in the routine. She had never had a close and intimate, particularly a physically intimate, relationship with another woman – not at home with a widower father, not in high school or in college. Now she did and she enjoyed making her friend and mistress happy.

Leaving the bathroom, Jean spread the towel on the bed and got the creamy lotion ready as Marian lay face down. The massaging of her back went as usual, including the stroking and brief penetration of the anal area. Marian turned over, Jean creamed and fondled her breasts, massaged downward to the triangle of hair, and down one leg and back up the other. That is when things changed. When her hand brushed the hair between her legs as it always did, rather than lying still as she normally did as Jean finished her thigh, Marian reached down and took the hand and pulled in directly onto her cunt. Her legs were spread wider than usual and, suddenly, Jean found her fingers pressed into the slippery groove between the cunt lips. With the legs spread wide and the cunt obviously aroused, the slit was like a highway, leading her fingers over the clit to the open and well lubricated hole. Before she was really aware of what was happening, her finger slid directly inside. Now, she not long before had slid her hand down over Marian's cunt in the water, but this was very different! Then it was just in passing and under water and there was no sense of it being a sexual act, merely the continuing of an innocent washing. This was sex!

Jean's first reaction was of absolute shock as all the fears of lesbianism, perversion and depravity flooded back into her mind. All the old fears that had been discredited or rationalized away suddenly were back, crowding any coherent thoughts from her mind. At first she just sat there, stunned, as Marian controlled her hand, sliding her fingers through the lips, but at the instant of penetration, she jerked away with a cry of horror. "Marian, what are you doing? Please stop it...I can't do that!" She literally did not know what to do, the act was such a surprise. Jumping to her feet, she stood there, frozen, her mind simply not able to comprehend this transition from a pleasant and, again, innocent, activity to one that she considered to be wanton and degenerate. Abruptly, her fears overwhelmed her and, breaking the chains holding her, she turned and ran, totally naked, toward the doorway to escape.




The Seduction of Jean Johnson Ch. 04



As she did so, however, Marian, in that steel-toned voice that she knew so well, called out, "Jean, stop it! Come back here!" It was if she were on a leash, dragging her back against her will. Jean was torn by her visceral need to get away and her conditioning to obey Marian. She stood motionless, the pulls being of almost equal power, but, slowly, she turned back, drawn by her mistress's voice. "Sit down here!" Taking Jean's hand, she placed it on her cunt, saying, "Play with me!" Jean left her hand still for a moment, and then the enormity of what she was told to do overcame her and she jerked it away again. "Jean, do as I say or you'll be whipped!"

"Oh, Marian, I can't! It isn't right! I can't do it. Please let me go!" 

"All right, bend over and put your hands on the bed. Spread your legs!" Like an automaton, Jean did as ordered, sobbing as she did so, crying in anticipation of pain to come and petrified at what she had been told to do. She stayed there, bent over, her bottom elevated, cheeks tensed as much as possible in her spread position. She heard Marian leave the room and the anticipation intensified as she waited for the inevitable. Shortly afterwards, Marian returned with a long, thin rod that was very flexible on the tip. Without warning, she drew her arm back and flicked the rod downward with an almost singing or humming noise which ended abruptly as it snapped against Jean's ass, the tip flexing forward adding an additional sting. Jean let out a shriek that would have suited a murder victim in a movie. She involuntarily jerked up at the impact, then fell flat on the bed. Not waiting for her to get back in position, Marian brought the whip back up and, then, back down with another resounding snap. Four more times, hummm...snap....ooow! Hummm....snap...eeeek! Hummm....snap...please! Hummm.... snap... shriek! "Will you obey me?" "Ooh, please, I can't. Please let me go!"

Hummm....snap...eeeek! Hummm....snap...ooooh! Hummm.... snap... oh, god! On and on. The thin rod left narrow, red welts that quickly turned red-purple, side-by-side working down Jean's ass cheeks. Reaching the end of the buttocks, they started inching back upwards, sometimes hitting the exact same sports and eliciting even greater cries of agony. Hummm...snap....ooow! Hummm....snap...eeeek! Hummm....snap... please, oh please! Every now and then, Marian hit particularly hard on the writhing young woman, causing her pelvis to sink deeper into the bed and forcing out even more plaintive pleas for mercy. Hummm....snap...eeeek! Hummm....snap...ooooh, good heavens, please stop! Hummm.... snap... oh, god! Once in a while, the flexible tip dug into the delicate area between the cheeks or on the lips of Jean's cunt, actually breaking the skin slightly. It was after one of those brutal more directly on the cunt that Jean's will broke and she surrendered, no longer able to bear the excruciating pain. Her capitulation was absolute, unconditional. "Please, Marian, please stop! I'll do anything you ask. Anything. Just stop whipping me."

Someone watching this entire sequence would have seen an unexpected ambivalence on Marian's part as she brutally lashed Jean's "little ass." As Jean bent over, Marion's expression changed from one of fury to concern and reluctance. First, she was not really angry – as she had been about the Halloween dress. Secondly, as said before, she was not a sadist and really did not enjoy hurting Jean. Oh, she did like to spank her with her hand because of the erotic sensation caused by slapping her resilient ass cheeks, but using bamboo rods or whips were merely means to an end – Jean's seduction. So, in this instance, Marian really felt bad about the damage she had inflicted, but knew that she had won. "You swear that you will do as I ask?" Jean's immediate, reply, gasped out, "Yes, anything. Just don't hit me anymore! I can't stand it." Marian lifted Jean's legs onto the bed, got the soothing anesthetizing lotion out of the bathroom, and applied it to the livid welts that covered the cheeks of her ass and carefully patted it onto Jean's cunt, smoothing it over the wounded lips. 

"Does that feel better, dear?" 

"Its better, but I still feel it. Please don't use that thing on me again, it's awful. Just spank me. Please." 

"I won't use it unless you break your promise, but, I'm sure you won't. Now, give me your hand." Marian took Jean's hand and put it between her legs, saying, "Stroke me gently...that's it....tickle my clit and slide your fingers up and down over the lips...oooh, that's it...all the way back, honey...push in...yes, like that...stroke up and down... put your finger into me as you go over the cunt hole....oh, yes, that's nice...push into my ass again....just keep doing that, it feels wonderful! So, Marian gave Jean her first lesson in how to masturbate a woman, letting herself become more and more aroused until she was really humping up and down against the titillating fingers. "Harder, dear, I'm almost ready to come!" Then, her calm instructions degenerated into a series of moans and gasps as her orgasm hit. Slumping down, she managed to pant out, "That was very good, honey. You did it just right. Thank you."



The Seduction of Jean Johnson Ch. 05



For Jean, the whole experience was beyond belief. Obviously, she had no idea as to what to expect or what it would feel like. Actually, her mind still was in a state of shock, and she really wasn't thing coherently at all. Here she was after an unbelievably painful caning, doing something that she always had considered to be the nadir of depravity, having sexual contact with another woman. Yet her morality censors seemed to be numb. She wasn't thinking right or wrong, just following instructions. Thus, with her mind on automatic and her guilt repressed, she just reacted and found that the experience was nowhere as repulsive as she had expected. With her censors in operation, those rules developed in her earliest, formative years, what she was doing would have been abhorrent and any pleasurable sensations negated or denied. As it was, however, the caressing of Marian's cunt was interesting and the tactile sensation really quite soothing. She stroked up and down, running her fingers through the moist groove between the lips, the silky feeling of the soft tissues very sensual. Following instructions, she tickled the clit and the hair along the lips, occasionally slipping between them and, every now and then, sinking her finger into the cunt hole. 

She would have expected that to be traumatic, but it really wasn't, perhaps partly because of the numbness still limiting her thinking. The same thing applied to pushing her finger into Marian's asshole. Of course, she had done that before while creaming the area, but then the penetration had been shallow and incidental. Now, with Marian' encouragement, her finger, lubricated from the wet cunt, slipped in the whole way to her second knuckle. Thus, as Marian progressed toward orgasm, Jean explored both opening to her body while continuing the manipulation of the external parts. As the orgasm was reached, she stroked faster and pressed harder, fascinated, even in her mentally anesthetized state to see the woman lose control, pressing upward against her hand, gasping and moaning in ecstasy. As Marian finally slumped down, out of breath and energy, Jean realized that, despite her background and her beliefs, she, herself, had become aroused by this wicked act. Right then she couldn't think about that. In fact, she didn't want to think about anything.

Unfortunately for her peace of mind, however, it was not over. Marian wanted to be certain that Jean was sufficiently conditioned and controlled, so she intended to go one major step forward. Therefore, after resting awhile, lying side by side, Jean's head resting against her breast, she started again. Taking Jean's hand again, she placed it on her cunt mound. Jean lightly brushed her fingers through the hair, feeling its softness and springiness. Then, knowing what was desired, she slid her hand further down and began lightly caressing the clit. After a minute or so of this, Marian spread her legs and asked Jean to move and kneel down between her legs. As she did so, Marian pulled her knees up almost to her breasts and opened them, exposing every detail of her cunt and ass to Jean's eyes. Jean's head had cleared, and while she still was somewhat traumatized by the caning and subsequent events, she had recovered quite well. Actually, she had admitted to herself, while they lay there, that fondling Marian's cunt hadn't been as dreadful as she had feared and that it had been interesting to cause her to erupt into orgasm. She had never thought of such a thing, but, well, it had been interesting.

Now, with the mental numbness gone, she, for the first time, saw a cunt raised up and wide open. She couldn't help but stare, looking at the clit protruding slightly at the start of the division into cunt lips. The lips, themselves were puffy from previous excitement, the fringing hair damp from the flow of internal moisture. Then, between the lips, red with arousal, was the hole, the one her finger had been in not long ago, wet and shiny and beckoning. Her eyes moved further down as the cunt lips ended leaving a small bare area, the perineum, and just below, the asshole – where her finger also had been. She would be shocked later at her actions and her calm perusal of Marian's sexual (and other) organs, but right then she was fascinated by what she was seeing. She had, of course, seen pictures in biology textbooks of these same organs, but it was very different, kneeling down between a woman's legs looking at them as opposed to studying a dry textbook. 

All this surveying took only a short time and, obviously, Marian wanted something more that to be examined. At her unspoken urging, Jean leaned forward and began tracing the cunt lips with her fingers, dipping into the opening as she passed it. She stroked up and down gently, lightly tickling at the clit and drawing her fingers all the way down to the ass. This stroking and petting went on for several minutes as Marian visibly became more aroused. The cunt had been wet when it started, but Jean's manipulation had started an output of lubricant that literally flowed downward, making the entire area amazingly slippery. It was at that point that Marian dropped her bombshell that made Jean's newfound equanimity vanish. 

Jean was leaning forward from her kneeling position, her head between Marian's thighs, watching her fingers as she worked on the cunt. Suddenly, Marian reached down over her raised knees and put her hand on the top of Jean's head and gently pushed downward. Jean's first reaction was to wonder what she wanted when that question was answered when Marion said, "Lick my pussy, honey." The statement was made softly, as a request, but there was no question that it really was a command. 

Jean's reaction was clear evidence that her conditioning was complete. She made no effort to pull back as Marian's hand pressed her head downwards until her mouth was at the clit. The "request," however, was like a thunderbolt, turning her mind into a quagmire of jumbled thoughts, none of which made sense. There was, of course, the overwhelming fear of lesbianism, but added to it was a feeling of revulsion at having her mouth on another woman's cunt. The moistness, the hair, the fear of "dirtiness," all the things that warred with her feeling of delicacy, contributed to her feeling of revulsion. All of these elements warred with her commitment and desire to do as Marian wished. The result was a conflict that prevented any coherent thought. She just couldn't think, once again she was numb, an automaton that did as she was programmed to do – she started licking.

She started as if she were licking an ice cream cone, long, rapid swipes over the surface of Marian's cunt. Marian's hand slowed her down, however, and, as something of the shock wore off, she began using her tongue with more precision. Marian's reactions told her when she was doing it right, and she used those as guides and developing a pattern. She concentrated on the clit at first, flicking her tongue over it as she had tickled it with her finger. Then she moved downward, running her tongue into the slit and finding an abundance of moisture seeping out of the hole. As she dropped further, she found the cunt lips to be very slippery, almost as if they were lined with Teflon. Even as she got the whole way back, she discovered that even the anal area was coated with the same lubrication. Marian, obviously, was very aroused.

Jean had not resisted when Marian told her to lick, but, as she complied, she almost burst into tears at the enormity of what she was commanded to do. Fortunately, the fugue condition of her mind, the numbness that precluded rational thought stopped even that normal (for her) reaction. All those thoughts of revulsion, etc. as described above were there ready to pounce as soon as the initial shock wore off. However, amazingly, the reaction was just the opposite. Even through the clouds in her mind, she realized immediately that her expectations of a nauseating, sickening taste were wrong. Actually, the "flavor" was more neutral and certainly not unpleasant. In addition, the slippery flesh was smooth and even the hair was soft and unobtrusive under her tongue. As she reached the perineum, and her tongue began flicking over Marian's asshole, the thought flashed through her mind, "This is clean, I just washed it myself!" 

That was her first coherent thought, and suddenly, the mist over her mind seemed to vanish as she realized that there really was nothing repulsive about licking Marian. In fact, as she continued and Marian's excitement grew, she actually began to, well, if not really enjoy, not mind what she was doing. In some ways, the very perversity of the act began to excite her. Her first panicky reaction had been that this depraved, menial and servile act was filthy and horrible. Suddenly, being on her knees, kneeling between her mistress's legs, licking her cunt, seemed a good place to be. Just as kneeling by the tub giving Marian a bath seemed right and proper, so did this.

Consequently, her tongue became more active, the tip flicking over the clit, delving into the cunt hole itself and running the length of the channel. When the tip reached the asshole, Marian surged upwards, leading Jean to concentrate on that erogenous area while, at the same time, tickling the clit with her fingers. Swirling her tongue around the hole, poking inward with it, Jean elicited a humping motion from Marian, seemingly indication approaching orgasm. Licking back upwards, she replaced her tongue with her finger and, as she concentrated on the clit, slid it completely into the asshole. That combination of manipulation finally sent Marian over the edge, her pelvis humping up and down and twisting against Jean's face and finger. Then, with one final upward surge accompanied by a series of gasping groaning-like sounds, she collapsed. For almost thirty seconds, Jean stayed there, her face hard against Marian's cunt, her finger far up her ass and, then, she too pulled away and collapsed, almost as spent as Marian.

The aftermath for Jean was touchy for awhile, for her dormant censor awakened when the excitement and good feeling from serving Marian ended, and she was suddenly revisited by the shades of past beliefs, lesbianism the most prominent horror. She, under duress, of course, had committed what she had always deemed almost a mortal sin, a transgression that only the most depraved and degenerate women could be involved in. Yet, she had not only let happen, but, she admitted to herself, she had actively participated in and, in retrospect, worst of all, enjoyed. She couldn't deny this last fact. Mostly the enjoyment came from pleasing Marian by kneeling down and performing the servile role of a naked serving girl. In addition, she also admitted to herself that being forced to do such a thing, whipped until she no longer could fight, made it much more acceptable, less of a licentious act on her part. Nonetheless, she still had that residual feeling of having committed an immoral act. Interestingly enough, as Jean repeated this obscene performance many times in the future, this feeling of guilt remained, giving an element of wickedness that, somehow made it more interesting 

For the two of them, the aftermath was, at first, a bit strained, but that lasted only a very short time. Somehow, the new experience was accepted as a natural development and they were quite comfortable with each other afterwards. Marian helped this considerably, by pulling Jean up beside her and giving her a quick kiss, saying, "Thank you, honey. That felt wonderful." She treated it in a matter of fact way, requiring no discussion or dissection and they were able to lie there, naked but comfortable with each other, talking of mundane things. An excellent way of diffusing a potentially traumatic situation! The only reference to the caning came just as Jean was ready to leave when Marian said, "Here, honey, let me put some more lotion on your bottom. It's really red. You know, you'd better make sure that Jim doesn't see your little ass until those marks clear up!" 

Jean agreed entirely about that last remark. There was no way that Jim, despite his more liberal ideas about clothing and, perhaps, from hints he had made, sexual activities among married couples, could ever accept what he would have considered the most outrageously depraved act, even under duress. This she would have to keep secret!



The Seduction of Jean Johnson Ch. 06



When Rob returned from his latest trip, he was met by the news that the seduction of Jean had progressed as far as Marian could take it alone. They had repeated the sex acts several times and Jean now seemed to be quite willing to literally do anything Marian asked. It was his turn to begin to participate. Actually, Marian's affection for Jean had grown throughout the seduction process and she really admired the strength and determination Jean had shown. "You know, I really wondered if she would win. I certainly didn't want to hurt her any more than I had, and she was really holding out. She finally did break down, fortunately. Actually, I think that she was fighting herself as much as me and, in some ways, she wanted to lose! Under that conservative, ultra-moral facade is a more liberal woman trying to get out. In any case, she's broken in now and I really have a sex slave to serve me! She's good! Now, we need to decide how you'll approach her. She's just been married a few months, so you'd better be careful. I certainly don't want to make her do anything she really doesn't want to." 

No decision on strategy was made, but, without doubt, Rob was eager to do something now that Marian had destroyed most of Jean's defenses. In fact, however, the breakthrough came purely fortuitously as the result of a catastrophe created by Jean. Rob's home office was an area that Jean rarely entered because he kept paper records in careful piles on his desk, each pile a chronological record of the production in franchises he was supervising at the moment. He preferred this to computer pages because he could lay several weeks of reports side by side rather than having to switch screens. He agreed that his system was antediluvian, but he liked it. Jean was instructed to do nothing but sweep the floor, but leave everything else alone. About a week after the last episode reported above, she plugged in the canister sweeper with the hose connected to the wrong end. Not one-half hour after Rob had carefully updated the newest piles, she raised the nozzle, turned on the sweeper – and a blast of exhaust air came out like a leaf blower, sending the piles into the air like a snow flurry. She let out a scream of horror as she turned off the vacuum (or blower, in this case), but it was far too late. Rob, hurrying in to see what had happened saw a disaster before him.

Furious as he thought of the work he was going to have to do to rearrange all of those pages, he yelled, "What the hell are you doing? You know you're not supposed to touch my papers!" 

Obviously, she hadn't "touched" the papers, but as she tried, fearfully, to stammer out what had happened, he grabbed her around the shoulders as he sat down in his chair, turning her over his knee. It may seem to be an odd, perhaps questionable, reaction, but Rob had been used to spanking Judy when she did something wrong and, in his rage, he acted automatically. Flipping her skirt over her waist, he literally ripped her panties down and delivered a tremendous SMACK onto her bare ass with the palm of his hand. Jean was completely stunned by the turn of events. First she was still in a state of shock from having the vacuum seemingly "blow up" in her hands, spreading papers throughout the room, having her employer charge in raging at her and, now, without warning, she found herself being spanked on her bare bottom – by a man! 

As this last thought crystallized in her mind and she really understood what was happening, she began twisting and squirming in an effort to get away. He was seeing her naked behind...he was touching her...oh, god that hurt...all thoughts that flashed through her mind. "Stop, you can't do this! Let me up! Oow!" The last came from the effects of another vicious SMACK that caused her entire body to vibrate. The blows rained down, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK! This hand spanking was far more severe than those she had received from Marian. In no time at all, the skin on both hips was beet red, the temperature such that it felt like an iron was being applied to her buttocks. Jean was used to being spanked by now, but this was different. It was a man doing it and he could see things that no one but Jim had seen. The pain was dreadful, but she tried to keep her thighs clamped together and her ass cheeks squeezed tight to hide her private areas. At first, this was her major concern. She had hated being spanked by Marian, even having another woman seeing her, but, still, that was much less traumatic, much less sexually prohibited, than being scrutinized by a man.

Actually, at first, Rob was too furious to think of the nature of the bottom he was punishing. He just had to dissipate his rage. So, his hand rose and fell, the skin became redder and redder. For Jean, the agonizing spanking gradually became too much for her to do anything but twist and turn to try to avoid the worst of the SMACKS. Soon, any thought of protecting her modesty vanished and her legs spraddled open, her ass cheeks relaxed and, while she no longer was even thinking of it, everything was open to Rob's eyes. 

For his part, when he started the spanking, he wasn't thinking of Jean as a woman or, specifically, as a woman he hoped to seduce. She was someone who had made a great deal on additional work for him. However, bit-by-bit he became more conscious of what he was spanking – a well-formed, rounded and very attractive female bottom. As his hand hit with a resounding SMACK, it quivered in a delightful way, soft but resilient. Then, as Jean's defenses fell and everything was exposed, he stared with increasingly lust filled eyes at what he could see of her cunt and, occasionally, right between her ass cheeks.

By that time, Jean had lost all sense of who was spanking or of the sex of the spanker. She was completely lost in the pain and humiliation, no longer concerned about anything else except having it end. SMACK...OOOW...SMACK....OOOOOH.... SMACK! Then, SMACK... PLEASE...SMACK...OH, PLEASE STOP...SMACK...OH, I'LL SO SORRY.... SMACK....EEEEK.....SMACK....OH, PLEASE, I'LL DO ANYTHING! Finally, SMACK..... groan.... SMACK.....moan.....Smack....smack. Jean's resistance, even to beg, was gone when Rob finally stopped. She lay, quiescent over his knees as he ran his hands over her hips and between her open legs, feeling her cunt. Suddenly, he moved her off so that she knelt on the floor before him.

She watched with unseeing eyes as he quickly opened his pants and pulled out his very rigid cock. She didn't react as he reached for her head and pulled her to him until the cock actually touched her lips. It was the first time in her life that her mouth had even been near a cock and she heard him say, "Kiss it!" Mentally, she was in that same state she had been in with Marian, not really aware, beaten into submission by her spanker and completely under control. Not really comprehending what she was doing, she pursed her lips and kissed the tip of Rob's cock and, at his directions, did it several more times. Then, she heard, "Open your mouth." 

Still in a daze, but knowing something was wrong, she looked up and started to protest, but the second she tried to speak, the head of the cock slid into her mouth. Finally, startled to her senses by this impossible invasion, she tried to pull away, but Rob held her head still and forced two more inches into her. "Suck it," he ordered as he began a slow in and out motion, actually screwing her mouth. 

For two or three minutes, Jean continued to struggle against him, but Rob was too strong, caught up in the lewd sex act. For Jean, kneeling there on the floor, the entire situation was incomprehensible. She knew of cock-sucking, of course, and recently Jim had made some vague hints about it, but for her, the act was so unnatural that she just couldn't believe that it was happening. Such a thing was, to her, far more depraved than licking Marian's cunt – the actual invasion of her mouth....impossible! Still, it was there! And nothing she could do would dislodge it! Oddly enough, her vulnerability, that very inability to stop it, to force it out, made it easier to submit. As it had been with Marian, it was beyond her control and she was acting under duress – so she was innocent and her internal censor could be turned off. Suddenly, she surrendered completely. She quit trying to pull away and accepted the assault on her mouth. She ovaled her lips and began sucking. The change, the acceptance, made it easier for Rob, and soon his cock began the inevitable process of ejaculation. The first spurts startled her and her first reaction was to pull away. His hands on her head prevented that and, after that initial reaction, she stayed quiet, lightly sucking and swallowing until he finished.

Finally, his now limp cock fell from her mouth and she slumped onto the floor. All at once, the enormity of what had just happened hit her. She had sucked a penis (her term)! He had come in her mouth and she had swallowed it! Good god, he had taken her in her mouth! She could still taste it, making the entire episode all too real. She had, of course, cried during the spanking, and now a flood of tears began to fall. Rob sat there, not knowing what to say or do. He tried to console her, but simply didn't know the words to use or what, if anything, he should say. Fortunately, at the point Marian came in. 

She had heard the spanking and the silence afterwards and had arrived just as Jean dropped to the floor. Reaching down, she helped her up and, smiling to Rob, took her to the bedroom where they had a long female-to-female talk. It took awhile, but Marian was able, with sympathy and reasoning, to get Jean over the trauma, and, finally, it was accomplished, at least on the surface. Actually, Jean had two things to overcome – she had sucked a cock and Marian knew about it. Somehow, she expected jealousy and blame, but, happily, and surprisingly, there was none. Thus, Jean was able to get through the rest of the day, studiously avoiding any possible contact with Rob.

That night, lying awake in bed beside her husband, Jean ran the events over and over in her mind. Her expected reaction to such an event should have been complete revulsion. The idea that she should look up and see an erect cock right before her eyes, have it put in her mouth and be forced to swallow the ejaculation from that cock – sickening! It wasn't as if it was her worst dream had come true, only because she had never even dreamed of such an unspeakable event. Even when, to her dismay, she realized that Jim was hinting at such a perverted act, she had been almost nauseated. Yet, when she thought of the afternoon's events, she realized that she had felt nothing like that. 

She had, of course, been startled when she saw Rob's cock before her, the first time she had ever seen one so close (and only Jim's at all, previously), but she was still in such a state of shock from the spanking that it was not as horrendous as it would have been in any other circumstances. Amazingly, however, despite her almost comatose state, the entire episode was clear in her mind, almost like a recording that she could rerun and view. She remembered kissing the tip, once when ordered to and twice more without prompting. She remembered the feeling of the cock in her mouth, a feeling that should have been revolting, but somehow was not. And, finally, she remembered the explosion of liquid in her mouth, and, without thinking, her swallowing it without protest. 

The whole thing was beyond belief. Partly her reaction was the result of still being in a state of stupor and just reacting. But, she should have reacted differently! She had not really struggled to get away. She could have let her mouth hang slack, but she knew that, instead, she had closed her lips on it and sucked. She could have spit out the cum, but she never considered it. In other words, while the cock sucking certainly was not voluntary, she also had to admit that she really had not been forced. 

The whole thing, including her reactions, was unbelievable. Here she was, lying beside her husband and she should have been wracked with guilt – but, somehow, she was not! Partly, of course, this was due to the fact that she had, once again, been spanked into submission and, literally, would have done anything she was ordered to do. She had discovered that about herself from Marian's domination and control. However, she should have been totally passive, and she knew that she had not. She was forced to recognize that she had changed, of had been changed, in the months she had lived here. Things that would have overwhelmed her, absolutely devastated her, not long ago, now only disturbed her – if that – and she felt guilty about this loss of her moral certainty. This, of course, she could not discuss with Jim. Picture her opening the conversation with, "Honey, I sucked Rob's cock today!" This she had to work out alone, as well as another one which hovered in the back of her mind – would Rob make her do it again?

It didn't take too long to find the answer to that last question. For the next few days she had avoided Rob as much as possible, merely mumbling a shy, embarrassed "hello" if they passed. The following week, as Jean prepared to quit for the evening, Marian called her over and said, calmly, "Jean, honey, Rob would like to see you in his office for a few minutes before you leave. 

With heavy feet, Jean trudged down the stairs and entered the office, finding Rob seated in his chair, wearing a robe. She just stood there, not knowing what to do or say, apprehension clear on her face.. After a moment, Rob asked, "Are you all right?" Receiving a barely perceptible "Yes," he opened his robe, revealing that he was nude beneath it. His cock, rigidly erect pointed toward her like a torpedo, indicating that he did not need Viagra. It was the "moment of truth" for Jean. She could have turned away and left or simply have said "no," but, instead she slowly walked forward and dropped down on her knees between his legs. 

She looked at the cock, the first that she had ever seen close up when her mind was clear. It was of normal size, but to her it seemed huge. Leaning forward, she looked closely at the pinkish-red, plum-like head and, as she had done the first time, lightly kissed the tip. She did that several more times to Rob's obvious delight and then, hesitantly, opened her mouth and engulfed it. This time, Rob did not screw her mouth as he had before. Instead, he just reclined back and let her do the work. She wasn't sure of the proper method of sucking a cock, but she did what seemed natural, letting her mouth slide down the shaft and gently sucking as she withdrew. Rob's reaction proved that her instincts were right as he made moaning and sighing noises, gradually flexing his hips to get more contact on occasion. His only comment was, after a time, "Play with my balls." 

Following his order, she put her hand down and cupped his testicles, lightly squeezing and fondling them. This additional stimulation was enough to send Rob to the edge or orgasm. Reaching down, he lightly held her head, directing the speed of her sucking, moving it up and down more and more rapidly. Suddenly, almost without warning, the cock exploded, filling her mouth with cum. She was startled by the ejaculation and its amount, but she managed to swallow just before another jet came in. The jerky in-and-out cycle was repeated five or six times before Rob dropped back and his limp, depleted cock withdrew from her mouth.

Jean stayed there on her knees for another minute or so, his hand lightly ruffling her hair. Finally, he said, "That was wonderful! Thank you, Jean," as she got to her feet. 

As a reflex, she simply said, "Your welcome," a statement that seemed inane as she said it, but what does a woman say under those circumstances? She left the room quietly, not really thinking, certainly not immune to guilt feelings, but surprisingly composed, almost as if she had simply provided a service without moral concerns. She admitted to herself that it had not been as traumatic as she had feared and, in fact, once she was into it, it hadn't bothered her at all. Even having it come in her mouth was not repulsive at all with the taste not strong and really quite neutral. Amazing! It was fortunate that she had reached this level of acceptance, because the experience was repeated several more times before Rob left on his next trip. She didn't know it, of course, but the final stage of her seduction was at hand. 



The Seduction of Jean Johnson Ch. 07



Rob was gone for a little over a week, and, in the meantime, things went as had become usual – Jean and Marian spent the time watching movies and television, with bathing and creaming Marian a part of most evenings. Many of those evenings also included Jean acting as Marian's naked sex slave fondling her and licking her cunt. Once in a while, Jean was spanked, primarily (although this was not acknowledged) because Marian liked to do it. The spankings were not like the vicious canings that had been inflicted when Jean refused an order because she was now too well trained to refuse to do anything asked. So, on what was to be the last night that Rob was gone, the two of them were indulging in what had become a favorite pastime, pampering Marian. She had been carefully bathed, the creamy lotion rubbed in, and the naked Jean was on her knees between her thighs, gently licking her cunt while probing her cunt and ass. Jean was engrossed in her duties when, suddenly, she felt fingers running up her own thighs to her cunt. She tried to let out a shocked scream, but Marian held her down by her shoulders and the scream was muffled as her face was held against the cunt.

The fingers continued to lightly stroke her cunt while she tried pull away and get up, but she just wasn't strong enough. The fingers probed the cunt, finding it well lubricated from her actions with Marian. She felt the bed move as someone, and she knew it must be Rob, shuffled up between her legs. The hands that had been caressing her now reached up and fondled her breasts and stroked her body her all the way back down to her hips. The hands left her, and, suddenly, she felt something blunt being dragged up and down between the lips of her cunt, poking in briefly at the opening each time. Again, she tried to protest, gasping out, against Marian's cunt, that she couldn't do this, she was married, it would be adultery....all to no avail as, finally, the cock stopped at her cunt hole and very slowly began to push in. 

As she felt it begin to enter, she squeezed her cunt muscles and twisted a bit sideways. This small effort to stop the penetration seemed to be enough, and Rob returned to just stroking his cock against her and, at the same time, feeling and fondling her tits. Leaving them, he pulled back and ran his fingers through her cunt down to the division of her upraised buttocks, teasing her asshole with his fingertips. Then, he gave her the treatment that she had been giving Marian for months – he slipped his finger, well lubricated from her cunt, into her asshole. It went in deeper as he also fingered her clit, causing her to open even wider. He moved his finger in and out, finger fucking her ass as he continued stroking her clit. She began moving in rhythm with his finger, grinding her ass back toward him. 

Suddenly, he withdrew his finger and moved back up, nuzzling his cock against her cunt and, once again, began to push in. As he did, Marian finally spoke, "We won't force you, honey. All you have to do is pull away and we'll quit. It's completely up to you, but we really want you to submit, give yourself to us!" 

Jean suddenly realized that she no longer was being held in position and that Marian was now fondling her tits. She felt the cock touching her cunt hole and knew that she could stop it. She really was free to go. They wouldn't stop her. All sense of morality and long-held beliefs told her to pull away, get up and go to her husband. She knew, somehow, that if she surrendered, she would be their sex plaything, their sex slave, as long as she and Jim lived there. Almost, the internal censor, the black and white view of right and wrong, prevailed. Almost!

Suddenly, all resistance vanished and she spread her legs wider and bent over further and the cock slid in, completely. She welcomed the penetration and the position, kneeling, face down, while her ravager took her. She wasn't being physically forced, but, somehow, in that position she felt vulnerable and controlled, a helpless, submissive woman. As an obedient sex slave, a role she accepted, she had committed adultery voluntarily, something she would have seen as impossible as the sun coming up in the west, but she had. 

With that acceptance, Rob began a slow screwing, the tempo building up as arousal grew. The pounding in and out pushed her forward on her knees and her face was against Marian's cunt again, and, driven by her urge to serve both of them, she began a frantic licking. She reveled in the knowledge that they were having her from both ends, her cunt and her mouth. Her thoughts were jumbled, incoherent, driven by the growing excitement..."He's in me!......I'm being screwed!.....Gods, no, I'm being fucked! ....I'm being fucked!" A word she had never thought of using now seemed so right! 

As the tempo increased and the cock began a more rapid screwing, her exhilaration mounted past any sexual plateau she had reached before. Suddenly, Rob stopped and pulled his cock out of her, quickly turning her over onto her back. Without prompting, she threw her legs up, spread and held them open as Rob mounted her from the front. His cock sank in deeply again and the screwing rhythm began again, more powerfully than before. Marian reached in between them and fondled her breasts giving even more impetus toward orgasm. Jean was humping up and down, meeting Rob's thrusts, grinding against him as he plunged in. Finally, the point was reached. He drove in even faster, hard against her clit, triggering her climax at almost the same time that he began coming deep inside her. They ground against each other in a series of spasmodic surges, each more violent than the last, until Rob just stayed in, fused against her.

Rob left his cock in her for a few moments, looking down at the woman he had just screwed. Then, pulling out, he collapsed beside her, both of them breathing heavily from exhaustion and sated desire. It was the first real orgasm for Jean, and she lay there with a feeling of euphoria. Recriminations and guilt would come later, but, for now, she felt wonderful. She repeated to herself that she had been fucked! This was fucking compared with the tame "sexual intercourse" or even "screwing" she and Jim had. Somehow, and she didn't really understand right then, this had been better. She'd had a real orgasm, and it had been wonderful! 

The three of them lay, side-by-side, not speaking in a very companionable silence. Later, there was talking, fondling and finally, one more fucking before Jean walked back to her apartment and her husband. Fortunately, because their activities had lasted much longer that Jean and Marian's television watching normally did, Jim was sound asleep, making it unnecessary for her to appear natural shortly after her second adulterous screwing of the evening.

The following day was surprisingly normal with no awkward moments, just the acceptance by all, including herself, that Jean was now sexually available to either or both Simmons. As time went on, both availed themselves of the benefits of having a sexual slave in their employ. She was even required, occasionally, to go all day completely nude, both relishing the sight of her naked body doing her daily work. Rob was delighted with her, of course, using her mouth and cunt regularly and her ass fairly often. Marion luxuriated in continuing the customary bathing, creaming and fondling and licking by her "naked serving girl." Marian even, once in a while, returned the favors, to Jean's great pleasure and appreciation.

This lasted through the almost five years of Jim's medical training and continued periodically on visits after that. Jim never suspected that his very conservative wife was also a wanton sex slave, but he did reap some benefits from the situation. The next time he made his vague hint that they might expand their sexual repertoire to involve cock sucking (although he certainly didn't call it that), he was startled and unbelievably pleased that she complied and did a surprisingly expert job despite what he knew to be her complete lack of experience. He returned the favor by voluntarily licking her cunt – and, on occasion, finding it very wet after a session with Rob and Marion.

For Jean, the entire experience, except, of course, for having a sore ass much of the time (spanking continued for real or perceived faults on her part), and certainly her sexual horizons were widened far beyond anything she might have dreamed of. She realized after a time that Marian and Rob had mounted a campaign to seduce her, but she never held that against them – the results had been too good. Being transformed from a repressed, hide-bound, morally rigid woman to a cheerful sex slave had been worth it. She certainly had been seduced, not only physically but psychologically. A good time was had by all!



The Seduction of Jean Johnson



Bit by bit her defiance and stamina wore away and gradually her shrieks turned to moans and her demands turned to pleas. From the top of her hips to the beginning of her legs, the skin took on a uniform red color, almost painful to look at. As Mariam's rage (partly simulated) was assuaged, she became more aware of shape and texture of the behind that she was belaboring. She had spanked her previous maid, Judy, on numerous occasions, but this bottom was, by far, the more shapely and resilient. As she finally decided that Jean had been punished enough, she ran her hand over it, thinking to herself, "What a nice little ass. She feels much smoother and softer than Judy. Of course, she's only 22. Very sexy! We made a very good choice!" Jean, fortunately, was completely unaware of this evaluation of her "little ass" and the thoughts that accompanied it. In fact, she was in a stupor and, again, fortunately, also unaware of the quick feeling of that little ass.

The outcome of this episode was to set down the rules of employment more clearly than before and to give Jean incentive to learn the nuances of Marian Simmons' voice when making her "suggestions." It did put a strain on their friendly relations, but as Jim reminded Jean when she reluctantly described the event, "She warned you about her lack of patience and what would happen if you didn't do as she asked. You'll just have to be more careful. Heavens knows, we don't want anything to spoil this setup! Besides, you know that you like her and she certainly seems to like you most of the time. In any case, I think that you are a lot more upset about her seeing your bottom than that she spanked you!" Actually, of course, Jean agreed that she had asked for it and, reluctantly, she had to admit that the humiliation that came from being half naked under Marian's eyes (and hands) was what bothered her the most. After considerable soul searching, Jean apologized for her actions (and for a few things she had yelled out while being spanked), admitted that she deserved the chastisement and promised to be more diligent in the future. In a way, it seems odd that the one who had been soundly spanked and mortified did the apologizing, but that's seemed to be prudent, and it did clear the air. That, of course, was exactly the mindset that Marian wanted. She was in command and Jean was wrong if she "asked for it" by not submitting.