9 comments/ 38898 views/ 11 favorites A Year in the Life of... Ch. 01 By: CharleyBear71 As he stood watching the woman behind the desk he found it increasingly difficult not to fidget. He didn't know who the woman was but he knew she was some kind of big shot in the company, perhaps even the owner. Chris Pickles, his manager, had been all over her when she arrived, in fact he couldn't have fawned over her anymore if he'd changed his name to Bambi. Chris Pickles, he thought, now there was an odious example of humanity if ever there was one. The kind of guy you wouldn't piss on if he was on fire; that is unless you'd developed the ability to piss petrol. Oh Jeez, he thought, she's been talking away and I've been in my own little world...what did she say? "Erm...I'm sorry, what was that?" he managed to bluster. "I said you could take a seat Mr Harding." she replied, indicating the chair near the desk. "Oh right, thank you." He took the seat and tried his best smile but she had already returned to the file that was open on the desk before her. For about the umpteenth time since he'd entered the office he wondered what was in the file; was it his file? The woman rose, an imposing figure in a knee length black skirt, white blouse and heels. Nice shoes he thought, not that I have a thing for women's shoes but you always notice nice shoes on a woman don't you? Oh crap! The woman had spoken again and once more he was away with the fairies. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that." he stammered. The woman looked annoyed but then repeated herself. "I said that it appears you are in a lot of trouble Mr Harding." She slowly walked over to the large window overlooking London, heavy rain casting a grey pallor over the city, raindrops thudding heavy but silently against the thick glass. He tried desperately to think what this matter could concern, workwise anyway. "Look, if it's the incident with the stapler I can explain...you see I was having this discussion with..." "It's not the stapler incident Mr Harding" She said, cutting him off mid-sentence "Though I am fully aware of that. This is more about your position, financial, and otherwise." "I'm not sure I follow you exactly...Miss?" "My name is not important at the moment. What is important is the offer I am about to make to you." She walked back to the desk, looking over the file in front of her. "I have been watching you for a while Mr Harding, keeping tabs on you and what I've found makes for woeful reading." She sat down again, smoothing her skirt beneath her as she did. "You have been living way beyond your means Mr Harding. Partying, clubbing, expensive clothes...to put it bluntly, attempting to live a playboy lifestyle on a playschool budget. You earn less than fifty thousand a year and are two months behind on your rent and have three credit cards that are over their limit." How could she possibly know that? He thought. Okay, maybe I've been a little enthusiastic with my spending but you only live once right? "But what is worse Mr Harding is that you have a gambling debt that is quite honestly...obscene." Oh shit, she knows about the gambling! This is bad, very bad...maybe not Clinton bad but still, far from good. "According to my records you owe eighty five thousand pounds to a Mr Jack Micklin, whom I believe is affectionately known as 'Ball crusher Micklin'. I also have it on good authority that Mr Micklin has a penchant for pretty guys, a bill that you fit more than adequately." He struggled to find words, any words. "I'm pretty sure I can explain ...some of it anyway." He could feel sweat pooling in his armpits, starting to run freely down the side of his body; he didn't function well under stressful situations, probably a good reason why he shouldn't gamble. But I had three aces he thought, how was I to know he'd have four kings! "The time for explanations is long past Mr Harding" She said as she stood and once more looked out over the grey city, whilst he frantically tried to think of a good reason why she shouldn't fire him, inform his landlord, call the coastguard and God knew what else. "But, Mr Harding, there is a way out of your present predicament; a once in a lifetime offer that I will not repeat, so please pay attention." He tried to steady his breathing, wondering what sort of offer she could make that would benefit him; He was pretty sure it wasn't going to be a promotion. "My offer is to have you as my slave for the period of one year. You will follow all commands without question and without complaint. If you agree then I will arrange a deal with Mr Micklin to pay off your debt once the year is complete, with substantial interest. I will also pay off all your other debts and you will be offered a better position, better salary and greater perks when your term of obedience is complete." Gobsmacked; that was the only word for it. He'd heard of people being gobsmacked all the time but until it actually happened to you it was impossible to comprehend the feeling that you had. "You will live with me and serve me as I see fit. You will have training and education as I see fit and will undergo physical training to attain the physique that I desire. You will be well fed, well clothed and will have a lifestyle far superior to the one you currently possess. Turn down my offer and you will find that you have been evicted from your apartment, your bank has closed your account and Mr Micklin will be waiting for you in the lobby to discuss, in some detail, the arrangements for your repayment of afore mentioned debt." He really was at a loss for words. A slave? Did that sort of thing still go on? What sort of duties would he be expected to perform? On the other hand if he didn't accept there seemed to be little in store for him but a cold, wet park bench, no food except what he could find in the bins and a visit from a guy who made Genghis Khan look like a peace loving tree hugger. And anyway, what was the worst that could happen? He cleared his throat. "Erm, as you put it like that, I think I'd like to accept your position of...slave...for the period of one year right?" "Yes, there will of course be a contract to sign, but for the moment may I congratulate you on taking the first step to a new and better life. You may call me Mistress Danni." A Year in the Life of... Ch. 02 'So...here I am in the back of a limousine.' he mused. At least he thought it was one; having never ridden in a limousine before he couldn't be entirely sure but the sumptuous leather interior and with enough rare wood to build a wardrobe it definitely felt like one. Danni...Mistress Danni, he corrected himself, seemed really nice...and very attractive. She had explained that he would now be driven to a gentleman's outfitters in Saville Row where he would have his measurements taken for his uniform. Looking out of the smoke tinted windows at the world and the city passing by he found it hard to get a grip on what had just happened and just what he'd signed himself up for. The contract itself had seemed pretty straightforward...well no real big words that he couldn't understand; obedience, service, respect...that seemed to be the underlying theme of it all and nothing jumped out that made him think 'Whoa! Let's just take another look at this shall we'. Though he had to admit, at least to himself, that he was feeling a little trepidatious as the car carried him to his destination, but hey, wasn't trepidatious a damn good word for a Monday morning? Eventually the limousine stopped and the driver got out before opening the door for him. He felt like royalty...or a footballer. I could have been a footballer he thought...If I could have played football in any real sense of the word. Not for the first time he thought about the driver holding the door open for him. His name was Ibrahim and he was huge and black. He's probably the blackest guy I've ever seen he thought. Midnight on a moonless night in a coal mine black. He's probably Namibian or Nigerian, they're some of the blackest people around, though he admitted that his knowledge of African people was sketchy at best. Nice fellow though, very polite. He gave Ibrahim his best smile as he got out and mumbled "Thank you." allowing Ibrahim to close the door and direct him towards an affluent looking building. After the fitting had been done and they were once more on the road he considered how weird that experience had been. When they had first entered the building Ibrahim had taken the tailor to one side and appeared to be giving him instructions of some kind. The tailor had looked him up and down, smiled to himself and then nodded to Ibrahim. The tailor had then taken the measurements, pretty much everything that could be measured had been. He was quiet throughout, occasionally speaking to give him directions such as "Could you lift your arm please sir." and "No, the other one please." Perhaps one of the strangest things was that the tailor had been taking all these measurements down on a pad and he couldn't help but notice that the tailor had marked him down as having a forty inch chest when he was a thirty six...if that. He'd always been kind of slender, not much muscle but not weedy either...well not much, not exactly. And so what if he had small feet, that didn't mean anything, it's not like it's a crime he thought...or was it? The government would nick you for anything nowadays. And then they were off again, making their way through the tired, grey streets of London, bound for God knows where. He must have dozed off at some point because he awoke to the sound of the car door being opened, Ibrahim standing once again and waiting for him to exit the vehicle. Giving Ibrahim a smile and once again mumbling "Thank you." he got out of the car and looked at the building in front of him. It was very large and very grand, what he could see of it. It reminded him of those country manors you see in all the period dramas, Downton Abbey and whatnot. He turned around and looked down the driveway but was unable to see the end of it, looking out over perhaps hundreds of acres of land, a skeletal forest to his right, just visible through the rapidly dwindling light and encroaching mist. He gave Ibrahim another smile and allowed himself to be escorted into the building, into a huge hallway from which rose a wide staircase, portraits hanging from the high walls. Ibrahim took him straight upstairs and showed him to a room. "This room shall be yours." Ibrahim said, his voice loud and sonorous. "Thanks...very nice." He managed to say. "En suite and everything." The furniture was old but well cared for and had a look of opulence about it that made him think of antiques. The bed was a huge, four poster affair with red, velvet drapes but he wondered why he'd need a dressing table; normally a mirror, a lick of the hand, through the hair and he was good to go. "So, Ibrahim, have you worked for Mistress Danni long?" Ibrahim turned to look at him with a faraway look in his eyes. They were dark, black eyes, the sort of eyes that didn't just suggest menace but positively pronounced it and made you sit up and pay attention to the menace that was behind them. Suddenly he wasn't sure that this was such a good deal and he hoped that Ibrahim would ignore him and go away...perhaps take the limousine for a car wash...Peru is a great a place to get a car wash he thought. "Mistress Danni and I have worked together for a very long time, longer than I care to remember." Ibrahim eventually replied, and with that rather cryptic answer he handed him an envelope taken from his breast jacket pocket. He couldn't help but notice the size of the man's hand as he passed him the envelope; it was huge and dwarfed his considerably. I wonder if there's a medical term for that he pondered, Digitus Monsterosous possibly. He managed to stammer "Erm...thanks." opening the envelope and extracting the letter inside. "Slave," it began...must be for me he thought. "Slave, I welcome you with open arms to your new home and hope that you will come to love this place as I do. For now you will be addressed as slave, but you will be given a new name in the fullness of time. This is your room and I expect it to be kept clean and tidy at all times. You will of course receive other duties as time passes but we shall begin with a very easy task. I wish for you to take a good, long bath and to shave your arms, chest, legs and ass and to trim your genital area. The equipment you need is already prepared for you in the bathroom. If you have any trouble with this task then Ibrahim will be available to aid you" "Shaved? Everywhere? Is this correct Ibrahim?" He asked the giant in front of him. He looked up from the letter to find Ibrahim looking at him, a shark grin etched on his face and all of a sudden he wasn't sure of anything anymore. A Year in the Life of... Ch. 03 He left Ibrahim smiling his shark grin and wandered into the bathroom trying not to let Ibrahim's obvious enjoyment get to him. The bathroom was huge with a high backed, claw foot bath set into the centre and a glass panelled shower unit which took up an entire corner of the room. He began to run water into the bath, taking the opportunity to have a mooch in the cabinets that lined the far wall, running his hand over the thick, luxurious towels that hung from an ornate towel stand situated next to the bath. He mused that when he woke up this morning he didn't think he'd be admiring an ornate towel stand anytime soon. On the other side of the bath there was a pedestal, topped with a tray, covered with another thick towel. There was a vast array of razors, scissors, shaving gels, foams and other bathing paraphernalia lying on top of the towel. And look, he thought, no plastic, disposable rubbish here but what he could only imagine were ivory handled shaving tools. The bath quickly filled, clouds of steam rising from the frothy water. Time to get undressed he thought undoing the top two buttons of his shirt and pulling it over his head. A full length mirror on the wall, as yet not obscured fully by the steam, allowed him to watch himself and of course he began doing the manly posturing that only a true athlete can achieve and admire. He lifted his arms, Charles Atlas style, then onto his waist, let's show off that chest he thought...oh yeah, looking good, now side on and ... "Whoa...Ibrahim, I didn't see you there...I was just...and anyway, personal space dude, you know what I'm saying?" He blustered as he turned to the huge, black guy. While he had been showing off his...manly physique...Ibrahim had quietly entered the bathroom and was watching him from just inside the doorway, his arms folded across his gargantuan chest. "You are a slave now, for you there is no such thing as personal space. I suggest you continue admiring yourself later and get on with the task that your Mistress has given you, it would be unwise not to be finished before she returns home." Ibrahim intoned gravely. He nodded his head and gave him a grin, a 'just two guys together' grin, and turned off the taps. He tested the waters temperature with a finger, a little hot, but it would be fine once he was in. Now he just needed to continue getting undressed...with a strange guy watching him. "So, Ibrahim, is Mistress Danni your Mistress as well?" He asked. He was sure he could get rid of him; he was normally pretty good at emptying rooms. Ibrahim laughed in a loud, booming voice that instantly reminded him of James Earl Jones...that is if James Earl Jones could knock a wall down with just his big toe. "No, your Mistress is not my Mistress. We have what you could call a complex yet surprisingly simple relationship, one that you may learn of in the future, but now you have to bathe and shave. I suggest you do so...or would you like me to help?" In a panicked voice he stuttered "Erm...no thanks Ibrahim...I'm pretty sure I can sort this out myself...thanks anyway." Ibrahim turned and left and he quickly pulled off the rest of his clothes and stepped into the bath, sinking into the hot water whilst doing the chimpanzee song. "Ooh, ooh, ahh, ooh, ahh, ooh...oooh....aaaaaahhhhhh." Wow this waters hot, he thought, I'm going to look like a lobster when I get out, a bald lobster at that. Lobsters are bald anyway; pretty sure I've never heard of the lesser tufted lobster but who knows? I'll tell you who'd know, David Attenborough, that's who. If he hasn't seen it, ate it, or hit it with a stick then it doesn't exist...animal wise that is. He lay back in the steaming water, only his head above the surface. He allowed himself to luxuriate in the hot, swirling waters enjoying the feeling of the liquid on his naked flesh. Time to shampoo the old noggin he thought though he was pretty sure most people left that bit till the end or until they were out of the bath altogether. He looked over the lip of the bath and selected a bottle of shampoo from the pedestal and sank back, allowing his head to enter the water. He lay back with only his head above the surface. He squeezed a large amount of the sweet smelling gloop into his hands, held his breath and sank completely before surfacing and quickly lathering the shampoo through his locks. Getting a bit long he mused, could probably do with a trim. "I'm gonna wash that man right out of my hair...I'm gonna wash that man right out of my hair." He sang, joyously and with total disregard for whomever might be listening. Probably not the most appropriate song to be singing but hey, it's a damn good song. He took a deep breath and sank back beneath the water, shaking his head and running his hands through his hair to remove the shampoo. Wow but that's a very feminine perfume...my girlfriend would love this he thought. Well if she wasn't my ex and wasn't banging my ex best friend Gavin. Nice bloke...I miss him loads, but if he could only see me now...he'd probably be thinking "What the fuck are you doing?" Running out of breath he thought, I'd better resurface, not sure drowning is going to look good on my slave resume. He wiped the water from his face and chose a razor from the tray of implements. Right...shaving...done it loads of times he thought, face wise anyway; how hard could it be? Shaving foam, check, razor, check...erm...chest hair...a bit. I may as well start there then he supposed, as good a place as any other. Hmm, this shaving foam smells really girlie too, I reckon they've just given me what's handy, I'm pretty sure that woman...I mean Mistress Danni, keeps this sort of thing in stock. He lathered it on and began, across the top and up from the stomach, nice neat lines cutting through the shaving lather. Okay, nipples, better go slow here he considered, wouldn't want to lose one; though they don't really have much use on a guy do they? Well except to tell you when it's cold and that it's probably a good time to put a jumper on... or a nice cardigan. Ooh, close, but nipples negotiated and now finish off the stomach. Man, this is taking forever...shit, I suppose I'll have to do my armpits too; that could have been a big job but thankfully they've left me some scissors. Wow, I think I'm going to have to finish this in the shower; it's starting to look like hair soup in this bath. He lifted himself out of the water and decided to make a quick dash for the shower cubicle when he heard Ibrahim address him. "Are you finished?" Man but he's quiet. He turned to face Ibrahim, not exactly sure what he should cover up and aware that he still had a razor in his hand and he didn't really want to put that anywhere near his cock. Oh great, Ibrahim was looking him up and down and all he could think was now Ibrahim's going to come out with the immortal line "Oh look, it's a cock...only smaller." He thought that Ibrahim probably had a cock that would make a Grand National winner jealous. "Erm, not quite Ibrahim, it's just the bath was getting kind of full and I thought I could do a better job of it in the shower, you know, first day and all that, want to make a good impression." He replied and gave him his best, winning smile. Well it could win something someday...maybe the 'Who looks most like a deranged gibbon' contest. "That is a very good idea. I will help you, time is running short and it would not do to keep your Mistress waiting." He supposed that he should have known this was going to happen; he shouldn't have spent so much time washing his hair...stupid hair. "Nah, you're alright Ibrahim, I'll get it sorted, no worries." "Get in the shower now!" Ibrahim commanded and he found himself doing a very good impression of Usain Bolt as he dashed into the cubicle. He turned the taps and got the water running. Argggh, cold, cold, cold he thought, and yes, thank you nipples, I'm fully aware of just how cold the water is. Ibrahim came closer and the light in the cubicle diminished as he approached. Oh Jeez but he's big he thought as the water began to warm up. And then Ibrahim was taking his clothes off. He turned his back and listened as the black giant divested himself of the rest of his clothes, entered the cubicle and closed the door behind him. "Turn around, hands on the wall." Ibrahim said, closer now, and when you're in the shower with a huge black guy, no one can hear you scream. Yup, this is how it starts...Maybe the suggestion of a little light supper first, some mood music, who knew where the evening would lead, perhaps that would assuage him. Oh come on, he mused, let's face it, if he wanted to fuck him there was little he could do about it; except maybe cry like a little girl and experience anal bleeding. At least like this he wouldn't have to look at the guy's massive cock...so why did he want to look? Curiosity killed the cat, he pondered, and I bet Ibrahim could bludgeon tigers to death with his mammoth member. He decided he wasn't going to look, just brace himself and hope it was over quick. "You need to relax slave, you're shoulders are all knotted...and you're trembling." Ibrahim boomed "It's just the shock of going from that lovely warm bath into this much cooler shower mate." He replied. Yes, that was it, remind him that they were friends and friends don't hurt each other...especially around the bum area. Then he felt Ibrahim applying shaving foam to the back of his legs and was reminded of just how big the guy's hands were. He raised his head, closed his eyes and whispered a quiet prayer. "Dear God, I'm aware we don't speak all that often but today would be a great day to prove your existence and prevent me from being split in two, thanks." He gradually became aware of a pleasant feeling, a surprising feeling. Ibrahim was incredibly gentle, though he was aware that Ibrahim kept grabbing his ass to move him and he could fit an entire buttock in his hand. He remembered that they could smell fear...whoever they were, and decided to try and keep the mood light hearted. "So Ibrahim, do you have much experience with shaving other people?" He asked. "I have performed the ritual of shaving many times on many different people, men and women alike. I actually enjoy it, I find it soothing and to a certain extent it satisfies the artistic side of my nature, removing the superfluous hair to reveal the naked flesh beneath, almost like a sculptor chipping away to expose the art within the stone." "Oh wow, I'd never thought of it in those terms before." He replied, aware that Ibrahim was now shaving his ass. Just pretend it's like a doctor's examination, you know, cough once for TB, twice for cancer, that sort of thing. I know, he thought, humming, that will help. Now what's a good tune to hum, perhaps now isn't the time for 'Colonel Bogey'...definitely not the right venue for 'It's raining men'. "Turn around, back against the wall and lift your right leg." OK, now we come to it he thought. He took a deep breath and turned, trying desperately not to, but failing, to look down. But Ibrahim was on one knee, turned side on, his imagined colossal cock hidden from view. Ibrahim applied more shaving foam and lifted the leg so the foot was resting on his thigh. He really does seem to be enjoying this he considered, how weird is that? The other thing he thought was weird was just how slender and feminine his leg looked without hair. "Now your left." Ok, well it was unusual to say the least but his arsehole was still intact; perhaps he would get through this in one piece after all. God but Ibrahim was quick, it would have taken him this long to do even half a leg. Mistress Danni would have returned to find him wearing what looked like hairy socks. And then Ibrahim was finished and leaving the cubicle. He let out a sigh of relief but it caught in his throat as he saw Ibrahim return with a pair of scissors in his hand. "I suggest you stay very still for this part." Somehow he'd managed to avoid looking down when Ibrahim returned and he raised his eyes skyward as Ibrahim knelt before him and took a swath of pubic hair between two thick fingers, snipping the excess off with practised ease. He felt Ibrahim's hand touch and hold his cock and frantically tried to think of unsexy things. Christmas pudding...mosquito bites...erm...a funeral procession...the stock market...Oh damn you brain for thinking of Christmas pudding. He looked down and thought he saw a smile play across Ibrahim's lips, all the time thinking 'Please cock, stop doing that twitching thing that you're currently doing'. "Turn to the side and raise your arm slave and keep your eyes forward." Ibrahim said as he stood, once more blocking out the light. Okay, well we got through that without incident, he thought; well almost...stupid Christmas pudding. At least this part was easy; all he had to do was raise his arm and keep looking forward while the big fella removed his underarm hair. Why had this sounded alright when he read it in the letter? Surely it's not natural for a man to be almost completely hairless. "The other arm." Fuck, but he was quick. When this year is all over, he considered, I'm going to see if he wants to go into business with me...Speedy Shave or Rapid Razors...something like that. With his skill at shaving and my...well with his skill at shaving they could make an absolute fortune. "Turn around slowly so I can see if there are any parts I've missed." And now for the catwalk moment he thought...yes folks, here we have the contestant from the British Isles who says his favourite thing to do on a Saturday evening is shampoo the dog and who just wishes all the people could get along in peace and harmony, isn't she gorgeous?...Why had he said she? "It is done slave. Dry yourself and apply the powder that you will find in the second draw along, it will help to reduce irritation and make you feel more comfortable." And with that he was gone...or at least going, just grabbing a towel from the stand and walking away buck naked; with ass cheeks you could crack walnuts between. "Erm, thank you Ibrahim, much appreciated." He shouted and told himself to stop looking and to get on with the job in hand. He stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel to dry himself. He stopped half way through and looked in the mirror, rubbing it with a dry bit of towel to remove as much of the condensation as possible. First impressions? Oh wow...that's...just wow...how strange...and white he looked. Ok, well now's not the time to ponder, let's get this finished. He finished drying and powdered himself in yet another girlie smelling product and with a final look in the mirror walked back into the bedroom. "Oh, hi Ibrahim, I thought you'd left." He stammered, fully aware of his smooth, hairless nakedness. "I was fetching your uniform; the tailor and his assistants work very quickly and Mistress Danni is a highly valued customer. Your uniform is on the bed and here is a letter for you." Ibrahim replied, once more dressed and again smiling that shark grin of his. He smiled back and took the letter, casting a cursory glance at the clothing on the bed. He didn't notice any livery which was strange; all butlers' uniforms had livery...didn't they? He opened the letter and took a closer look at the uniform. He gave the articles a quizzical glance and began to move them around the bed, laying each item out separately. Okay, so the first item was a black skirt...and those were stockings...that's a blouse, those looked like incredibly small, black panties and what would appear to be a matching bra. Oh and there's a sort of wide belt with laces at the back and oh yes, there on the floor were a pair of high heeled shoes...nice shoes. "So Ibrahim, no mistake made at the tailors then? We don't seem to have the wrong outfit kind of thing?" He asked, half turning towards him. Ibrahim shook his head, but that was okay he thought, because this is obviously some sort of test. So he'd play the game and then they'd all have a big laugh; it would prove to Mistress Danni that he could be obedient and then Ibrahim would bring out the butlers uniform with all the livery and...yes, of course, everyone knows that butlers are shaved all over...Oh fuck. A Year in the Life of... Ch. 04 Okay, well let's see what's in this letter then. "Slave." For me again he thought. "By now you should have your uniform and be prepared the way I want you. There has been no mistake and I expect you dressed when I return." Hmmm, well not much ambiguity there, pretty straight forward and to the point. "The stockings have seams down the back and I expect them to be straight and your stockings to leave four inches of thigh showing when worn and to be level at the top. I am fully aware that you may have had little experience of walking in heels but you will soon get used to them, just remember heel, toe, heel, toe, and to take smaller steps than if you were wearing flat soled shoes. I look forward to seeing my pretty girl dressed for the first time." She had called him a pretty girl. Was he the only one who could see something wrong with this picture? Oh well, it seemed he had little choice in this matter but to get dressed as a 'girl'. It was either that or take his chances evading Ibrahim and doing a runner; but where would he go? Right, fine, he thought, I'll put on the stupid clothes and then she'll be sorry because let's face it I'm not going to make a very good girl am I. He thought about where he should begin and experimentally picked up the panties, all the time wishing that Ibrahim would leave him so he could get on with dressing in private. He couldn't help but think that Ibrahim must be some kind of pervert, standing there, watching some dude dress up in girlie clothes. He stepped into the panties and pulled them on and was surprised that they actually felt kind of nice against his skin and hugged his ass very comfortably. They were a little snug around his old fella but he thought as long as he didn't sit down too quickly then he would probably get away with it. He picked up the bra and held it at arm's length. Of course he'd had experience before of taking them off but when it came to putting one on he was a complete novice. He slipped it onto his arms and felt the satin cups against his bare chest whilst reaching around the back and trying to hook the ends together. He struggled for a minute or so before closing his eyes and swallowing loudly and then asking with a quavering voice. "Erm...excuse me Ibrahim but would you mind giving me a hand with this?" Ibrahim walked over smiling and he turned his back to him, ashamed and embarrassed as he felt the black man's hands take the ends from him, promptly hooking the bra closed. It felt extraordinarily weird to feel a tightness around his chest that he'd never felt before and the straps kind of dug in at the shoulders but he wasn't about to ask Ibrahim for any more help than he needed to. "Thanks Ibrahim, I couldn't quite get it to...you know, hook together quite right." He turned around again and was almost positive that Ibrahim was chuckling to himself as he walked away. He decided he would try the stockings next, again, another item of feminine clothing that he'd had little personal experience of. He discovered that they were hold ups and they felt silky, most definitely expensive. He wasn't sure how he should attempt this, sitting down or standing up? In the films he'd watched the women always did them sitting down...or was that typing? He decided to just treat them as very long socks and rolled the first one up, being careful to position the black heel bit at the rear before slipping it over his foot and pulling it up his leg. He determined that he'd get them both on before worrying about the seams but couldn't resist a quick glance over his shoulder when he had the first one on. Wow, he thought, that's not that far away and it actually looks like a woman's leg from here...feels kinda nice too; I think this is wrong. He did the same with the other leg and then looked around the room finally locating a long mirror on the other side, just to the left of a large leaded window. It was full dark outside he observed as he walked over, the strangest of feelings going through him as he felt the stocking tops rub against each other. He turned his back to the mirror and after a couple of minutes of fidgeting and pulling he had the stocking seams as close to straight as he possibly thought he was going to. He noticed that his ass looked kinda cute as well and swayed his hips from side to side a little, raising himself on the balls of his feet as he did so looking over his shoulder at his stocking and pantie clad lower body. Then he remembered where he was and what he was doing and looked up to find Ibrahim watching him intently. He let his heels slowly drop to the floor, gave a manly cough, and walked back to the bed. Next he chose the skirt and after moving it this way and that for a few seconds decided that that bit must be the front and stepped into it, pulling it up over his legs to his waist. He secured the button and ran the zip up thinking that the skirt reminded him of the one that Rachel used to wear when she was working as a waitress in Central Perk; not too short but definitely the kind of skirt that got attention. He leaned over and thought about putting the blouse on next but his eye was drawn to the wide belt with laces and he couldn't decide what he should do for the best. He looked to Ibrahim and gave a quizzical look. Ibrahim walked over speaking in the sort of tone that you would normally reserve for talking to children who were having trouble with sums. "That is a waist cincher." He said "It will hold and tighten your stomach and give you a more feminine figure." With that Ibrahim picked it up and showed him how the cincher fastened at the front before passing it over. He took it and slipped it around his waist, carefully lining the eyelets up before proceeding to clasp them together. It didn't feel like it was having any effect but then Ibrahim spoke. "Now turn around and hold onto the bedpost." He gave Ibrahim a quizzical stare but did as he was asked. He felt Ibrahim take up the laces and then felt his body jerked backwards as pressure was applied. The cincher closed up and he marvelled at the way his stomach had been sucked in, both front and sides and could see where his hips where, an actual defining of his torso. He turned and gave Ibrahim a smile whilst thinking that this thing would probably stop him from bending over properly, but, after an experimental couple of tries he determined that it probably wasn't as bad as he thought. He picked up the blouse and slipped it on, discovering for the first time in his life that women buttoned their shirts up on the opposite side...stupid blouse. From where he stood he could just see himself in the mirror and even from behind the bed, with only his top half showing he was amazed at the transformation. Okay, well only the shoes to go he thought and he sat on the bed, leaning over in an attempt to pick one of them up. He found that the cincher stopped him from making the full movement required and so stood, then knelt, and retrieved them. Once more, sat on the bed, he slipped first the left, and then the right onto his stocking clad feet. Okay he thought, all I have to remember is heel, toe, heel, toe. He shuffled his bum closer to the bottom of the bed and after taking a hold of the carved wooden bedpost, slowly and gingerly got to his feet. He almost went over immediately and grabbed the bedpost with both hands to steady himself. He could feel the tendons and muscles in his calves and thighs much more acutely than he had ever felt them in normal shoes and had a sudden, greater appreciation for womankind the whole world over. He took a deep breath, took one hand off the bedpost and slowly took a step...then another, his hand releasing the bedpost. It was easier than he thought, though he imagined that his leg muscles and his feet would be sore after a very short time with these on. He remembered to take small steps and though he knew it was going to take some getting used to he didn't think he was going to break an ankle like he first thought he would. He turned to Ibrahim and before he could think about it he asked. "So how do I look?" Cringing and wishing he hadn't asked even as the words left his mouth. Ibrahim looked him up and down for a few seconds before replying. "I think your Mistress chose very well and I'm sure she will be greatly impressed." With that the big man walked over and leaned forward, very gently placing a kiss in the middle of his forehead. He was lost for words and didn't think he'd be able to say anything; anyway his throat had suddenly gone very dry so he gave Ibrahim an apprehensive smile and just cast his eyes down to the floor. "And now, I do believe you are ready. Your Mistress will be home shortly and you should be there to greet her when she does so...don't worry about the stairs, we'll take them slowly." And with that Ibrahim turned and walked out of the room. He closed his eyes and with a parting glance at the mirror, his new, feminine clothed body reflected back at him, he took a deep breath and proceeded to slowly follow Ibrahim. A Year in the Life of... Ch. 05 I would like to take this opportunity to thank Miss Cynthia for her aid in advancing this storyline and hope that I can start moving this story forward, thanks for reading. * And now he found himself waiting at the door with Ibrahim, looking out into the dark, rain falling heavily outside. He'd managed to negotiate the stairs okay apart from one heart stopping moment when his heel caught and he thought he was going to go flying down the stairs. But he'd had a tight hold on the bannister and after that little moment of vertiginous anxiety, found that if he stepped down with his foot at an angle it was a lot easier. Ibrahim was being particularly quiet and would occasionally look at him but said nothing which left him feeling isolated and vulnerable, especially dressed in these clothes. He was just beginning to wonder when Mistress Danni would be home when a set of headlights appeared in the distance, cresting the driveway and approaching the house at speed. He could hear the burble of the high powered car as it came in front of the building, turning on the huge drive and parking up some twenty feet from the doorway. Ibrahim took a large umbrella from a stand, opened the door and stepped out into the night, opening it as he went. A cold gust blew through the open doorway and he realised just how much protection from the elements hair provided. The wind made his skirt flair out and his legs felt the cold much more appreciably than they had before they were shaved and encased in stockings. Looking out he could see that Mistress Danni was out of the car and was talking with Ibrahim under the shelter of the umbrella, her hair shifting in the wind. Ibrahim spoke and she laughed her face alight with amusement. She leaned back into the car and retrieved a coat which she placed over the arm that Ibrahim extended to her. Then she reached in and grabbed a briefcase which Ibrahim also took from her. Ibrahim must have said something else because she laughed again and tenderly stroked the side of his face. He noticed Mistress Danni look towards the house, towards him, found that his heart was beating wildly in his chest and forced his eyes downward, unable to return her gaze. He heard them coming closer and found himself swallowing but his throat felt too dry, he was trembling and it had little to do with the cold wind. The door closed and he looked up, Ibrahim closing the umbrella and replacing it in the stand, Mistress Danni looking at him, her eyes seeming to linger on each part of his body in turn and he found himself once more quickly gazing at the floor. Mistress Danni came closer, her heels clicking on the marble flooring. "Well, what do we have here? It seems a pretty girl has found her way into our home Ibrahim." "I believe that is so." Ibrahim replied sombrely. Mistress Danni placed her hand under his chin and lifted his head till he could do nothing but look at her...either that or close his eyes and he didn't think that would be a good idea. She was smiling as she did it and he couldn't help but notice how attractive she was, possibly a little younger than he remembered. "So, pretty girl, how do you like your new home...and your new clothes?" Mistress Danni asked. "The house is wonderful." He managed to reply with just a slight pause," ...Mistress." He remembered to add. Mistress Danni looked amused at his answer but didn't follow up the second part of her question. "Well turn around; let me see how you look." He could feel his cheeks redden as he slowly turned, aware that both Mistress Danni and Ibrahim were watching him intently, at the same time trying to concentrate on his feet so he didn't clumsily fall to the floor. "Very nice, such a pretty, slender, feminine girl...don't you think so Ibrahim?" She asked, turning to the black giant standing just to her right. "As you say...very pretty" Intoned Ibrahim. Mistress Danni moved closer, her hand skirting over his right hip and around to his ass, slipping just under the hem of his skirt and onto the little space of flesh between stocking and panties. She leaned closer and he was surprised to find that they were near enough the same height, he'd always thought of himself as slightly taller than the average woman but, then again, who said that Mistress Danni was anything but average. Mistress Danni stared into his eyes for what felt like an interminable amount of time before leaning even closer and breathing, blowing gently on his left ear. He felt himself tremble, swallowing as she took his earlobe between her teeth. Simultaneously she bit down and squeezed his ass cheek and an involuntary gasp escaped his lips. He was mortified to discover that he could feel stirrings down there and he closed his eyes trying to wish the feelings away. Through the clenched teeth that Mistress Danni held his earlobe between, she spoke in a low purr, words that seemed preternaturally loud in the large hallway. "I own you." She said, punctuating each word with a long pause and he found that all he could do was mutely nod. Mistress Danni gave his ass a final squeeze and stopped biting his ear, blowing gently on the spot. He felt himself shudder which caused her to laugh out loud as she moved away from him. "Well pretty girl, I need to get changed and you need to help Ibrahim with dinner, so off you go and I'll see you shortly." With that, Mistress Danni walked past him, giving his ass a playful smack before heading up the stairs. He could feel his cheeks burning and there was an undeniably tighter feeling in his underwear than there was before. He looked up to find Ibrahim staring at him and he just about managed a wan smile. "You heard your Mistress slave, follow Me." said Ibrahim. And without a second glance Ibrahim strode off down a connecting corridor, leaving him little choice but to totter after him trying not to come a cropper in his new, unfamiliar footwear. They passed a couple of closed doors before arriving at the kitchens which were situated down a small flight of steps that he had to admit he actually managed to negotiate quite well. His thighs and calves were paining him quite considerably but he resolved to do his best and leave the complaining until he was alone. Ibrahim was again in silent mood as he busied himself preparing dinner which consisted of, primarily, chicken salad, with a wide range of vegetables that he wasn't sure he'd ever seen let alone eaten before. Ibrahim gave instructions on what and how he should prepare the meal but seemed unwilling to engage in small talk of any form, any semblance of friendliness he had shown earlier seemed to have disappeared with the appearance of Mistress Danni. This left him wondering as to what exactly was the basis of their relationship. With the meal prepared, he produced a silver tray on which he placed a single plate and told him where he should take it, and to hurry back. He tottered off with the tray, mindful of not dropping it...that would definitely be disastrous at this stage and, after negotiating the steps, made his way along the corridor to one of the rooms that he'd noticed before. He opened the door into a dining room that had a long table running down the centre of it. It could easily seat a dozen people and Mistress Danni was sitting at the head of it. She smiled as he entered and he managed a small smile back as he concentrated on the task at hand. Mistress Danni had changed out of her skirt and blouse into a dress that was both casual and fashionable and as he neared the table he also noticed that she was now barefooted. He took the plate and placed it in front of her and Mistress Danni smiled up at him. "Thank you pretty girl, you make a wonderful waitress. Though I think I may have you wear a shorter skirt next time so I can get a better look at those fantastic legs and that extremely cute ass." He felt his cheeks redden, unsure of how he should reply to such unfamiliar flattery. He decided to settle for "Thank you Mistress." before turning and hurrying back to the kitchens. Ibrahim gave him another plate to carry on the tray and left the kitchens without a word. He once more climbed the steps and headed to the dining room to find Ibrahim sitting at the table. He placed the plate in front of Ibrahim, aware of his Mistresses eyes on his ass as he leaned forward. Ibrahim thanked him, his Mistress smiled at him and he returned to the kitchens. Now he was at a loss. Was he to eat here like they did in TV shows like the period dramas he'd occasionally caught on the box or was he to go and eat with the others? He decided he would chance it and took the final plate back to the dining room. He opened the door slowly and peeked in to find Mistress Danni smiling at him whilst Ibrahim seemed engrossed in his food. "Come in pretty girl, sit here." Mistress Danni indicated the seat to the right, the one opposite Ibrahim and he walked forward placing the plate on the table. "Thank you Mistress." He stuttered, wishing that he didn't feel so nervous and that for just a few seconds he had proper control over his vocal cords and nervous system. Mistress Danni was once again smiling at him, a wonderful, beautiful smile that made him feel like butterflies had taken up residence in his stomach and he smiled back. "You do understand that you may not always be eating with me don't you pretty girl. Sometimes I may allow you to eat at the table, other times I may have you eating your meal at my feet. There may be times when I don't allow you to eat at all. But as this is a special occasion I thought it would be nice to share our first meal together." He realised that as much as that sounded kind of barbaric, he would have little choice but to go along with almost everything that was expected of him. "Yes Mistress, of course...thank you Mistress." He replied. She smiled and Ibrahim, after uncorking a bottle of wine, poured three glasses. The meal continued and he found himself enjoying it more and more as time passed even though little time actually did. The wine was wonderful though a little strong and his Mistress was very talkative, often engaging him and asking what he thought of something or the other. He was just thinking that this wasn't too bad at all when he realised that Mistress Danni had addressed him and he hadn't really heard what she had said. She looked expectantly at him and he was at a loss. Finally he managed to say "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that." Mistress Danni raised an eyebrow and looked at him, a different kind of smile now playing on her lips. He half smiled back and raised an eyebrow too only half aware that Ibrahim had stood up, wiping his mouth with a napkin as he did so. Mistress Danni steepled her fingers together and placed her chin on the backs of them, her elbows now resting on the table. Suddenly Ibrahim was standing at the side of him. He looked up at the behemoth of a man just in time to see Ibrahim's hand shoot out and grab a huge handful of hair. Shocked and in pain, Ibrahim lifted him from his seat by his hair and began to drag him from the chair. He managed a little squeal as he grasped Ibrahim's hand trying to stop his hair being ripped out at the roots. Ibrahim turned and walked out of the room and he had little choice but to stagger after him, his footwear slipping and sliding from under him at almost every step. Ibrahim dragged him to the next room, flinging open the door and dragging him into the dimly lit interior. Nearly senseless with pain, he just managed to notice that the room was probably a lounge with a huge leather sofa, before Ibrahim sat on the arm of it and dragged him over his knees. He had but scant seconds to react as he felt Ibrahim lift his skirt and rip the panties off his ass and halfway down his thighs. He tried to call out, to bring his hands round to cover himself but Ibrahim caught both of them deftly in one of his own and pinned them against the small of his back whilst also pinning his skirt up and out of the way. Pain exploded on his cheeks as Ibrahim brought his hand down on his exposed ass. The pain was like nothing he'd ever felt before, a rose of agony blossoming on each cheek as Ibrahim's hand came down. He cried out in equal pain and surprise at the first contact of flesh, trying to squirm away, to use his hands to deflect the blow but Ibrahim held him securely and he could do nothing as the black man's hand came down again and again on his naked flesh. It seemed to go on for ages but in reality Ibrahim had only spanked him twelve times before he stopped. His ass felt hot and stung, throbbing and exposed. He found that his cheeks were wet with tears and he had blurred vision. Ibrahim let go of his hands and allowed him to stand. "You will use the correct honorific when referring to your Mistress at all times...do you understand?" Ibrahim intoned gravely. He struggled upright, trying to pull his panties back up as he turned to the black giant. "Yes, yes, of course...I'm sorry...but fucking hel..."That was all he managed before Ibrahim had him once again face down on his lap, his hands secured and his panties around his upper thighs. He cried out as Ibrahim's hand came down again and again, sobbing as the pain once more exploded on his flesh as the hand connected. At one point he thought he was going to black out, he could feel the spanks, each one bringing fresh torment to his rapidly reddening ass. The spanking stopped and he staggered to his feet, disorientated, his ass now unbelievably hot, he could feel waves of heat pulsing from it. "You will not use profane language in my presence." Ibrahim said. "I got that for swearing?" He croaked incredulously. "Jesus Chr..." And again he felt himself dragged across Ibrahim's lap. Twelve more strokes were given to his tortured cheeks, twelve more biting stings that seemed destined to send him through Ibrahim's lap and onto the floor. He was unable to stop himself from crying openly, each repetition bringing even more pain, even more shame. He was dressed as a woman and was defenceless against whatever action the black man chose to take against him. The cheeks on his face, wet with free flowing tears, reddened and stung just as much as the cheeks of his ass. Ibrahim stopped, stood and rolled him off his lap. He fell to the floor on his ass and let out a loud yelp of pain as his crimson cheeks connected with the floor. "You will not use blasphemous language in my presence...do you understand slave?" Ibrahim said as he looked down on him, the light from the corridor bathing half his face in light, the other half lost deep in shadow. Sobbing uncontrollably, trying to raise his himself off his ass onto his knees, he could only stammer a breathless "Yes." Ibrahim left; the room in darkness, the pretty girl in tears. He raised himself a little so his ass wasn't resting on anything but that was about the best he could do, his legs rubbery, his nerves shot. After a couple of minutes the light into the room dimmed again and he shrunk back but it was Mistress Danni not Ibrahim who blocked out the light. She walked in, turned on a reading light next to the sofa and sat down. "Stand up and let me see what the nasty man did to you." She said. He stood on shaking legs and turned around, lifting his skirt as he did so . "Wow, that is a delightfully red ass you know; I could toast crumpets off that arse." And with that she gave his rump a smack with the back of her hand which made him wince. "Turn around and kneel." She said "And I want that ass on your heels, understand?" He nodded as he turned around, kneeling in front of her, closing his eyes against the pain as his ass made contact. She leaned forward and took his head in her hands, using her thumbs to wipe the tears from his cheeks. "Now I know this is hard for you but it won't always be this way. You didn't ask for this to happen but from this point on you are left with three options." She leaned forward and looked into his eyes. "Option one is that we tear up the contract now and you go back to whatever marvellous life you had before and all that entails. Option two; you stay and make things difficult for yourself and find yourself experiencing a lot more time with Ibrahim and I am quite sure that wouldn't be pretty." She now pulled his face closer until they were scant inches apart, her eyes boring deep into his. "Or option three, you look upon this as an opportunity that very few people ever get, a chance to live a completely different life, even if only for one year...you never know, you might get to enjoy it. And if you do then we will have lots of fun and games and adventures along the way. I'm going to leave it with you and as I have an early start in the morning I am going to bid you goodnight pretty girl, but I'll see you tomorrow evening, as long as you're still here, and if you are then we shall play...I can't wait to get my hands on you." She smiled, gave him a kiss on the lips and slowly walked out of the room leaving him alone with his thoughts. Mistress Danni stopped as she reached the door, one hand on the door frame, looking over her shoulder. "Oh, and I'm going to want you prepared tomorrow, Ibrahim will know what that means...don't forget to tell him." And with that she was gone, once more leaving him to ponder on the choice he had to make. A Year in the Life of... Ch. 06 Thanks once again to Miss Cynthia for her help and assistance in reviewing this chapter, I hope you enjoy it. Mistress Danni led him down a short flight of steps into the cellar and he reflected on the day he had had as he followed her, his nerves jangling, apprehensive about what was to come. He had slept quite well last night though a couple of times he had rolled onto his back and had been woken suddenly by the pain from his still stinging ass. He had thought deeply on the words Mistress Danni had said as he fell asleep and had come to a resolution. There was no way he could return to his previous life, the consequences at this time were too scary to contemplate. He also had no wish to have Ibrahim mete out any more punishment and so had determined that he would do his best to please his new Mistress. Yes, the path ahead was undoubtedly a strange one but he took her words to heart and decided that he would make the most of the opportunity he had been given though he would privately reserve the right to make choices that were of the most benefit to himself. He would serve her to the best of his ability, but he knew there were boundaries he would not cross and the final decision would be his...at least he hoped that that would be possible. Ibrahim had woken him at seven and given him instructions to shower and dress, which he'd done quickly; he had no wish to test the big man's tolerance. Breakfast had been a quiet affair and then Ibrahim had shown him the rest of the house which included a library, an observatory and a gym to name but a few of the rooms they visited. Ibrahim had explained that he had access to all of the rooms but Mistress Danni would no doubt have plans for his education. They had partaken of a light lunch in the dining room and then Ibrahim had given him a lesson in etiquette which he found interesting and had applied himself to the task at hand which seemed to please Ibrahim. He found that he liked the way that Ibrahim treated him when he was pleased and determined that it was much nicer than when Ibrahim was displeased and so he would do his best to keep up the trend. Upon entering the cellars he noticed that they were of a much more modern construction than the rest of the house and he wondered why this was. Mistress Danni seemed to be aware of his curiosity and said. "The original cellar network wasn't suitable for my needs so I had it renovated when I took over here." She led him a little further down the corridor, just a few feet, until they reached a crossroads. "To the right, where we're going, are the playrooms, of which there are five. Straight on, along the left hand side are the offices and where the records are kept. Right at the end," She motioned by pointing," is the wine cellar and stairs which lead up to the gym. And to the left is of no concern of yours. You are never to enter that area, do you understand?" "Yes Mistress." He replied, nodding as he spoke. "Good girl, now let's go and have some fun shall we? I take it that Ibrahim has prepared you?" He remembered the preparation and had no interest in reliving that experience any time soon. Suffice to say that it had involved an enema that, although not entirely unpleasant, had left him feeling ashamed and humiliated. Ibrahim had said that an enema wouldn't always be necessary but as this would be his first time then he should be extensively 'cleaned out'. After the unpleasantness had finished Ibrahim had given him an outfit to wear that consisted of virginal white cotton panties and a white bra, a white, tailored to fit blouse, a short red and black tartan skirt and white over the knee socks that were held up with pink ribbons. He'd also been given some flat heeled black shoes and, even though his hair wasn't quite long enough, Ibrahim had used two lengths of pink ribbon to give him two pigtails. Then the whole ensemble had been finished off with a school tie and a black blazer with a school insignia on the left breast. Shortly after, Mistress Danni had arrived home and while he sat in his room nervously thinking about what was to come, she had showered and changed before coming for him. Mistress Danni was wearing dark blue trousers and a light blue shirt that had a name tag on the left lapel. The name was Glenn Taylor. She wore shiny black work shoes and had a sort of police or officers cap in her hand which she doffed as she had entered the room. Now in the cellars, as Mistress Danni led him along the right corridor towards the playrooms he managed to say "Yes Mistress." Barely stuttering as he did so. Mistress Danni smiled at him and began to speak as they did a left turn at the end of the corridor, three doors visible on the right hand side, two on the left. "This evening we are going to role-play a scene that I've had in my head ever since I first saw you. I take it you're comfortable with roleplaying, that you've done it a few times prior to now?" He shook his head and cast his eyes downward, a little embarrassed. Sex for him had been fun most of the time but he'd had little experience of what one of his girlfriends would have called 'pervy stuff'. Mistress Danni stopped, lifted his head and looked at him with a look of astonishment on her face. "You know, when I finally give you a name I think it may have to be Pod; you are just that vanilla." He wasn't exactly sure what the reference was supposed to imply so just nodded silently. With that she continued to lead him down the corridor until she stopped outside the second room on the right. "Anyway, the scenario is that I am a security guard in a store and I've dragged you in because I believe you've been shoplifting. I probably don't think anything of the sort but I'm going to take advantage of my position. You are a very inexperienced schoolgirl who is a pupil at a convent school, very religious, nuns and all that. You are, of course, very frightened by what's going on, and very scared of being arrested or whatever. You're more frightened by the possibility of the nuns finding out because the punishments they will mete out will be horrible. You haven't been shoplifting by the way so I expect you to protest your innocence, but I'm adamant and you can expect me to be 'thorough' with my cross examination of you. Do you understand? And don't worry; it's going to be a lot of fun." Mistress Danni opened the door and led him into a small room, probably fifteen feet by twenty feet which contained a desk, with a computer, two chairs, a filing cabinet, a waste paper basket and a water dispenser. The walls were painted a light blue colour and there were a couple of wall charts which seemed to show information regarding sales or some such data. She led him to the chair on the far side of the desk and, aware that his skirt was almost too short to smooth under him, he sat. "Right then Miss, perhaps you should start by telling me your name." Mistress Danni began as she walked around the desk and took the other seat. She placed her cap on the desk and picked up a pen. He looked at her hesitantly, eyes shifting from her face to the desk and then back again. "I said, what's your name?" "Erm...Michelle," He began. "Michelle Foster." It was the name of a girl who had been in his English Literature class at school and who he'd quite fancied for a while. "Michelle Foster." Mistress Danni wrote on a clean piece of paper. "I see by the insignia on your blazer that you attend St Cecilia's school for special girls. A very prestigious school that...I bet it costs your folks a pretty penny to send you there." He swallowed, unsure of what to say next. It seemed Mistress Danni was much more experienced at this roleplaying than he would have imagined. She was half lounging in the chair and her voice, though not as harsh as a man's, had a definite bloke-ish twang to it and she'd acquired a South London accent. He looked up to see Mistress Danni looking at him with her eyebrows raised, her right arm trailing down the back of the chair. Mistress Danni continued. "Oh yes, very expensive place that. And the nuns...I bet they're sticklers ain't they? I bet they give you a good wallopin' should you step out of line. Imagine how mad they're gonna be when they find out you've been thievin' eh? Imagine what your folks will say when they hear about this." "I didn't steal anything." He managed to say, his voice coming out barely more than a squeak. "Oh but you have little Miss." Mistress Danni said, rising from the chair as she did so. "I've got you on video...oh yes. I saw you taking that item from the shelf and secreting about your person...I saw it all. And once the law gets involved you are going to be in a whole new world of hurt, oh yes, no doubt about it." "But I didn't do anything." He protested weakly. "I promise I haven't done anything wrong." "Well it's down to your word against mine ain't it? Oh and the video evidence of course. They'll go mad them nuns will...just you wait till they hear about this. I wouldn't want to be in your shoes little Miss, oh no, I certainly wouldn't want that." "But I'm innocent." He replied, a little more forcefully this time. "You can search me if you want." Mistress Danni winked at him and walked around the desk. "You know, I think I'll do just that." She grabbed his arm and helped him from the chair, leading him towards the far wall. "Right, let's get rid of this blazer shall we?" Mistress Danni said, pushing the lapels back and spinning him round to pull the blazer off. "Now hands against the wall and spread em." He did as instructed and felt that he was starting to enjoy this, there was a definite feeling of arousal and excitement in the air . "Are you sure it's legal for you to do this?" He asked. "Only, I thought you needed a warrant or something, perhaps an officer of the law needed to be here?" He felt Mistress Danni draw close, her body pressed against his back, leaning into him as he stood, arms braced against the wall. "Round here, I am the fuckin' law." She growled into his ear and he felt a shiver run through him, the hairs on his neck standing to attention. Mistress Danni began by sliding her hands along his arms and down the side of his body which made him tremble. Then her hands slid down over his skirt, one sliding over his hip and around the front, the other hand over the other hip, lifting his skirt, her groin now pushing against his ass. He felt her hand run over the soft, cotton fabric of his panties, stroking his rapidly stiffening member. He gasped as she slipped her hand inside the waistband and grasped his cock, the other hand also sliding into his panties and caressing his balls. "So that's why it's called a school for special girls is it? I always wondered about that." Mistress Danni said in his ear, stroking his cock, her fingers running up and down, one of her nails rubbing softly just below the head. "Please...stop." He managed to gasp. "You can't do this...I'm not that kind of girl." "Too right you're not that kind of girl." Mistress Danni replied, her one hand teasing his cock exquisitely, the other hand, still in the waistband of his panties, moving round to cup his ass. "C'mon, over here." Mistress Danni said and guided him back to the desk, roughly pushing him over it as they got close. She removed her hands from his panties and squatted down behind him. "Right, let's have a look at this cunt of yours." She said reaching under the skirt and pulling his panties down his legs and around his ankles, pausing as he alternately lifted his feet to step out of them. "Please stop." He said. "This isn't right." "Who asked you?" Mistress Danni growled, slapping his ass as she spoke. Shuffling a little closer, Mistress Danni grabbed his ass and spread his cheeks. He felt her breath on his ass and then her wet tongue began to lick his anus. He gasped as her tongue began to lap at his hole, her nails digging into the flesh of his cheeks, spreading them wider to gain deeper access. "Hold your cunt open." Mistress Danni commanded, and he slid his hands around to pull his ass cheeks apart, totally unable to deny her. Mistress Danni began to shove her tongue roughly against his hole, trying to force it inside him, her hand reaching through his legs to stroke his hard shaft. He groaned loudly as his Mistress' fingers began to rub the head, slowly, agonisingly slowly pulling his foreskin back. His Mistress stood and moved alongside his hip, one hand reaching under, returning to stroke his throbbing cock, the other hand he heard her spit on. "Let's see how tight that cunt is shall we?" And with that he felt a finger push against his hole which made him emit a soft groan. He could feel the muscle there resisting the pressure but then a short, sharp pain indicated that the finger had broken through. He gasped as his Mistress began to work her finger backwards and forwards, he could feel her pushing against something inside that caused him to feel a mixture of pain and pleasure. "Fuckin' hell but that's a tight cunt...don't move a fuckin' muscle, I need some help here." His Mistress said in her manly accent as she removed her finger and moved away from his side. He was aware of his Mistress moving around the desk and opening one of the drawers, then a click like something being popped open. Mistress Danni returned to her previous position and he felt a cold liquid land on his skin, just above the crack of his cheeks and it caused him to gasp, gooseflesh springing out on his ass and thighs. She began to rub the liquid onto his ass and around his hole, inserting a finger as she did so and he could hear her chuckling as he groaned. "Oh yeah, you're a right fuckin' whore you are. I bet you love cock don't ya?" He closed his eyes as he felt two fingers sliding into him, that same mixture of pleasure and pain as her fingers squirmed and penetrated inside. "Please...no...I've never done this...please stop." If nothing else he thought, I am being completely honest right now. "No way sweetheart, I'm gonna give you the fuckin' of your life." He felt his hole stretch as Mistress Danni tried to force another finger into him, her other hand, now slick with the cold liquid, reaching under and grasping his shaft. He gasped involuntarily as her fingers worked away at his hole, her hand moving with speed up and down his hard cock, squeezing, releasing, squeezing, releasing. Then he felt her remove her fingers and she came to stand in front of him and he looked up into her leering face. "I've got something for you sweetheart." She said, and slid the zip down on the trousers she wore. Her hand, slick with what must have been the lubricant, reached in and pulled out a long, pink, fleshy looking cock. He thought that it looked to be a little longer and thicker than his own; he knew he was probably at the top end of average down there; after all, all guys measure their cocks at some time or another, right? "Suck my cock you little whore." She commanded with a smile and gave him a little wink. He swallowed loudly suddenly aware of how dry his mouth had become. He looked at the cock just in front of his eyes and hesitantly opened his mouth. His Mistress grinned and guided it into his open mouth, one hand moving to rest on the back of his head. He'd seen blowjobs before obviously, and had been the recipient of at least a few but this was a whole new experience for him and he slowly closed his lips around the head marvelling at how little space there now seemed in his mouth. Mistress Danni groaned and added her other hand to the first, taking a pigtail in each and pulling his head forward. He felt the cock slide over his teeth and begin to nudge against the back of his throat, he gagged, his mouth opening, coughing as his Mistress thrust the cock deeper into him. Mistress Danni began to move her hips backwards and forwards, his hair held in her hands, pulling his open mouth onto the cock again and again. He tried his best to accommodate the fleshy member but each stroke caused him to gag, his eyes beginning to water. "Look me in the eyes when you suck my cock you fuckin' slut." Mistress Danni demanded and he raised his head a little so that he could look at her through his lashes, the cock still being forced in and out of his mouth, drool now openly running down his chin. "Oh yeah, such a fuckin' whore...suck that cock." His mind was in a million places. Unbelievably he could feel his cock twitch as every thrust made him gag and he wondered if this meant that he was gay. He had never thought about sucking cock before so he was confused at what he was feeling as his Mistress leered down at him, her cock sliding in and out of his wet mouth. "Right, now to fuck that tight cunt." His Mistress said and he shivered as she released her grip on his hair and pulled the cock out of his mouth. "Please no." He managed to stammer, one hand swiping the drool from off his face. "Too fuckin' late for that sweetheart." He heard her say from behind and he felt the tip of the cock as it was placed against his hole. With one hand on his hip he could feel his Mistress begin to push forward, her other hand holding the cock steady as it forced against the resistance. He gasped loudly as with a sudden relaxation of the muscle the head of his Mistress' cock slid into him, a sharp, searing pain erupting inside him. "Oh yeah, fuck but that feels good." He heard his Mistress say as he felt the cock slide a little deeper into him. He felt a ripple of pain as it started to engorge him inside, then dissipate as she pulled it out a little, only to return anew as she pushed in again. Once again his cock was twitching almost in unison with each stroke as his Mistress pushed deeper into him and he laid his head on its side on the desk as the tempo began to increase. He found himself groaning loudly with each stroke, each one threatening to split him, at least that's what he thought, but each one also rubbing against that point inside him that seemed to heighten a pleasure he'd never before experienced. Quite against his conscious will he found himself moving with each stroke, his hips pushing back as the cock strove to push deeper into him. He felt light headed; a strange buzz in his brain seemed to threaten to extinguish all logical thought as the cock slid deeper and deeper into him, each stroke bringing that hitherto unknown pleasure. He could feel Mistress Danni' hands on his hips, pulling and pushing him as her hips moved, the strokes getting faster and faster until he felt her thighs begin to smack against his ass, the fabric of the trousers rubbing the flesh of his cheeks with each successive thrust. His fingers gripped the edge of the desk and he moaned loudly and with abandon as the cock slid in and out, each thrust threatening to have the head slip out only to then be slammed back into him and almost absently he could hear Mistress Danni grunting, breathing heavily as she slammed her cock into him again and again. "What a fuckin' whore you are...Ya fuckin' cock loving slut, you love it dontcha?" His Mistress shouted and he found he wasn't completely amazed when he screamed back. "YES, OH YES...I'm a cock loving whore!" His whole body seemed to be on a knife edge, each thrust bringing that sweet concoction, that heady mix of pleasure and pain and he suddenly felt the need to bear down as the cock inside him found that sweet spot that seemed to push all other thought from his mind. He grimaced and ground his teeth together as he did so, the cock seemingly huge inside him as it ground away at that internal spot. His cock spasmed as he felt his Mistress thrust forward as he bore down and he gasped explosively as he came, hot cum shooting from his iron hard cock against the fabric of his skirt, a little splashing back to wet his thighs. His legs buckled and he winced in pain as Mistress Danni' cock slipped out of his hole, unable to do anything but try to hold onto the table, save that he should fall trembling to the floor. His Mistress grabbed him and turned him around, pushing backwards so that he lay on the desk, his legs dangling uselessly over the edge, his cock still twitching, throbbing as probably the most explosive climax of his life ebbed away. His Mistress smiled at him and came forward, leaning over to kiss his lips, both of them breathing heavily. She lay across the table alongside him and propped her head up looking down on him as their laboured breathing began to subside. Again she smiled at him and he felt himself smiling back.