Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. It's a story of lesbian sex, so if
that offends you, or is illegal where you live, or if you're underage
where you live, then you must not read it.  It is a work of FICTION.

Thanks to all who wrote regarding my other stories.

Please be sure to e-mail feedback to suzy999999@yahoo.com

enjoy,
Suzy

------------------------------------------------

(FF, Adult Friends, Authoritarian)


Spoiled Girl No More

By: Suzy Suburbanite


Part 1


Chapter 1

Six o’clock in the evening on yet another Monday spent away from home.  I
was at the point where I could barely remember what town I was in, much
less what day it was.

‘Houston, this month I’m in Houston,’ I remembered sorely, ‘all because
that bitch Heather had another goddamned family emergency.’

Single consultants were always the first to get chucked out the door for
these brutally-long engagements.  What had been a pleasant regional
consulting job months before, was now a pain-in-the-ass international job,
due to staff cutbacks and other cost-cutting measures within our firm.  I
was tired and frustrated.  I hate flying, and even more, I hate flying and
having an initial meeting with a new customer in yet another wood paneled
boardroom with a fist-full of “manage-by-magazine” no nothings on the same
day.

“Why yes Mr. Smith, your idea is completely fabulous,” it was the same in
every town, in every boardroom, ‘sanctimonious assholes.’

Me?  Your rapidly burning out narrator?  Well, I’m Jennifer.  Jennifer
Rhodes.  Jenny to my friends and family.  I’m thirty-seven years old,
twice-divorced, no kids, and terribly angry with work and life.

I’m standing in the lobby of another stupid, business class hotel.  I’m
waiting for another clueless bitch with a fifth-grade education, from some
godforsaken, third-world shithole, trying to figure out the computer she’s
standing before.  She giggles, I get angrier.  She smiles politely, I get
enraged.

‘Shit I need a drink,’ I’m praying this day will wind down soon, ‘where’s
the fucking bar?’

“No smoking, yes?” the girl just keeps piling-on those straws.

“No...smoking...I reserved a smoking room,” Christ, it’s not her fault,
“where’s the bar?”

“The other side of the lobby ma’am,” she was trying to be helpful, but the
“ma’am” thing just about killed me.

“Take them to my room and bring me the key in the bar,” I almost threw the
room key at the bellman, gesturing towards my bags, before I marched
towards the magic elixir that makes the pain go away.

As I enter the barroom, I caught a glimpse of myself in a wall mirror.  I
looked harsh.  I looked mean.  My strawberry blonde hair was pulled too
tight in a bun; my make-up was applied too heavily; and the scowl I wore
left no doubt to any observer that my day sucked.

“Vodka martini, dirty,” I barked at the kid tending bar.

“Rough day?” at least the kid was smart enough not to call me ma’am.

“I’ve had better,” what is it with bartenders.  What fucking business is
it of this kid’s if my boyfriend told me--as I was walking out the door
this morning--that he wouldn’t be there when I got back?

“I’m sorry Jenny, I’ve found someone else,” he wasn’t even angry.  He just
seemed devoid for any emotion towards me.  Shit, I doubted he even knew
me, as much time as I’ve spent away from home lately.

The thing is I didn’t get upset.  I halfway expected it.  “I’m sorry to
hear that Mike gotta run, gotta plane to catch.”

“First one’s on the house,” the handsome kid said, “I’m Frank, just give a
scream of agony when you want another.”

‘Ahh, wise beyond his years,’ I thought as I took that first sip of my
core vice and lit a cigarette.  I began to relax a bit.

The bellman brought my key and I tipped him, “I hope the rest of your stay
is more pleasant than the start Ms. Rhodes.”

“Thanks...I’m not usually like this,” I apologized, “really...”  Actually,
I was usually like this more and more often.

“We’ve upgraded you to a suite,” he sounded as apologetic as me.

“You didn’t need to do that,” I gave him another ten bucks for a tip.

“Ready for another go?” it was Frank, the cute, friendly bartender.

Frank would take care of me, I could tell, ‘and maybe I’ll take care of
Frank,’ I smiled to myself as I watched his trim butt buzz about behind
the bar.  ‘Hmmm, definite possibility in that piece.’

The barroom didn’t have more than a couple dozen people in it.  Most were
chatting quietly in pairs or small groups.  The place was low-key; piano
bar all the way.  As I panned about the place, my gaze settled on a woman
sitting alone at the opposite end of the bar.

She was majestic.  That’s really the best term I could use to describe
her.  Long and lustrous, shinny, raven black hair; bright, clear blue
eyes; full lips painted the deepest, rich red I’ve ever seen; and skin so
pale and white it was translucent.  Our eyes met, and she raised her glass
of wine towards me in a toast as she chatted away on her cell phone.  I
responded in-kind, toasting the mysterious woman.

“You’ve met Constance, I see,” it was Frank.

“Shit, don’t sneak up on me like that,” I scolded the boy in a playful
tone.

“Ok, how should I sneak up on you then?” damn this kid was good.

“Preferably with no clothes and a raging hard-on,” I was feeling crude and
in need of some quality time with his dick.

“Baby, if I swung that way, you’d be first on my list,” well so much for
the cute bartender.

“Another?” he asked.

“Yeah sure...now I’m sad...just pour,” I pouted as the handsome gay guy
filled my glass.

Just then there was the lightest, gossamer touch on my arm, “Hello, I’m
Constance.”

It was the woman from the other end of the bar.  She was more beautiful
close-up.  This pale beauty had the face of Susan Hayward: large,
succulent, pouting lips; a delicate, up-turned nose; and high, arching
eyebrows.  Her body was round and lush.  Not fat, mind you, but healthy. 
She was perfectly proportioned: her big boobs matched her big bottom,
which matched the rest of her sturdy frame.

“Mind if I join you?”

“Please, yes, I would enjoy the company.” I said, as Frank winked at me
and gave me a thumbs-up.


Chapter 2

Constance was a delight and a dear.  I soon forgot about my petty
grievances with the world, as she told me about her work as a cancer
researcher.  I felt so foolish, my issues so paltry.  Her voice hypnotized
me, her eyes mesmerized me.

“Why don’t we have some supper,” she asked in her syrupy southern drawl.

We retired to her room and dined on chicken breast and rice pilaf.  We
shared a bottle of wine and watched a movie together.  I felt more
domestic within those scant few hours with her, than I had in my prior
five years with Mike.  Padding barefoot around her room, I picked up
dishes and glasses and asked if I could get her another glass of wine.

“Come sit Jenny,” she smiled at me, patting the sofa next to her; “there
will be plenty of time for you to wait on me...later.”

She was very familiar with me...she listened.  She never offered advice,
just listened about my misery, my failed marriages, and failed
relationships.  Her eyes bore burning holes in my soul, like a magician,
she had me spouting my wants, desires, and my venom.

The morning after that first night, I woke confused.  I was in my room,
but don’t have a recollection of how, or when, I got there.  I was naked
under the sheets, and I never slept nude.  My head felt like hell as I saw
the clock and panicked.

In exactly one hour I had a meeting.  I raced like a madwoman to dress and
catch a cab to my first in a long line of meetings during my second day in
Houston.  Before heading out the door I noticed an envelope lying on the
coffee table labeled with a large script written “J” on the front.  It was
from Constance:

Jennifer,

It was lovely meeting you last evening.  I hope you don’t mind, but I took
the liberty of preparing you for bed.   You were in no condition to do
that for yourself.

Tonight around six then,

C

I blushed from head-to-toe, and reread the note.  Her penmanship was
spectacular.  The brief note was written clearly and concisely.  The note
was written with the well practiced hand of a woman with both culture and
means.

Every time another prognosticator of great technical feats spoke
throughout my agonizingly slow day, I thought of Candace’s brief note,
‘She is so quiet and confident...and wonderfully succinct.’

Business day two ended.  My schedule for the next four weeks was
completely planned.

Back at the hotel, I asked Frank to send a bottle of vodka to my room,
‘what a shame,’ I imagined the possibilities as I stared at the handsome
boy’s ass while he scurried about.

I changed out of my suit into a hotel robe and freshened up a bit before
sitting to wait for the booze.  I felt relief when I heard the knock at
the door.  All I wanted was to get drunk, pass out, and forget that my
life stunk.

“Hello beautiful woman,” it was Constance.  She held a small shopping bag
in one hand and two martini glasses in the other, “I understand you need a
cocktail.”

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck,’ I was embarrassed.  I didn’t want to explain the prior
night’s drunkenness to this woman.

“Oh hi Connie,” I said politely as she walked past me into the suite.

“Never Connie darling,” she firmly corrected me, “always Constance.”

“I’m sorry Constance,” I said meekly.

‘Why do I feel like a child in the presence of this majestic woman,’ I
thought of my flaming outbursts during the day’s meeting, and my command
of that stuffy boardroom.

“I’m sure you will make other small mistakes dear,” she spoke to me as a
teacher, a mother, “but we can correct those as time passes.”

Constance had me mix our cocktails as she sat, with perfect posture,
watching my every move.  For some reason I was feeling that enjoyable
domesticity of the prior evening.  This evening, fully sober, I enjoyed
performing these mundane tasks even more.  The ritual of preparing drinks
while having the cool, confident, mysterious woman evaluating my every
move made me tingle with anticipation.  But, anticipation of what?

“We must break you of that filthy habit,” she admonished me for lighting a
cigarette, allowing me only two the entire evening.

Constance told me of her life in Memphis: once married and divorced, no
children, forty-years old.  “I am what many people would call Goth, but I
perceive myself as more Victorian, rather than part of the whole ghoul
crowd.”

I didn’t have a clue what she was talking about, but instead just nodded
like an idiot as her slow, warm voice led me into a welcoming daydream. 
Constance called for our super; simple fillet of beef and eggs.  She
commanded that I serve dinner, and clear the table afterwards.

I delighted in serving her.  She seemed particularly pleased that I was
well-mannered enough to know proper protocols, “You parents taught you
well dear,” she complimented me on all the little intricacies of the
formal dining ritual that I’d learned as a child.

This night we talked for hours; sitting on the sofa, holding hands and
sipping port before watching a movie on the television.

“Come and snuggle with me Jennifer,” she commanded.

I was shocked, but nonetheless, wrapped my arms around this proud woman
and lay my head on her substantial breast.  Her smell was divine; very
subtle, very expensive perfume mixed with her light musk of the work day. 
Her warmth was all-consuming, the softness and tenderness of her embrace
so foreign, yet so very familiar.  The way she stroked my hair as we sat
silently watching the movie, evoked memories of my childhood.  My mother
often held me this way before I became too self-important for family and
parents.

Constance turned off the television, and I knew she was preparing to
leave.  There was no doubt it was my bedtime.  She was setting rules for
me.  I had worried about her sexuality earlier in the day as I thought of
her note.  But this, this was unspoken, tender caring; guidance of a
loving parent to a child, if you can imagine a thirty-seven year-old
“daughter”.

My new friend drew a line on the vodka bottle label--indicating the
current level--making it apparent that I was not to partake again until
she was present.

“I will be here at seven tomorrow Jennifer, sleep well,” her voice pure
liquid fire, as she kissed me lightly on the cheek.

“Yes Constance,” was as much as I could manage.  My eyelids fluttered
briefly as visions of something more intimate between us flashed through
my mind.


Chapter 3

Wednesday, was much the same as Tuesday.  Worked sucked, but then...then I
was with Constance.  She allowed me to loose control, to be controlled in
a most loving and tender way.

Thursday evening, we had our two cocktails, dined on another quiet meal,
and were settling into our warm embrace, watching television and chatting
tranquilly.

Constance lifted my face from her breast, looked at me--smiling and
happy--and kissed me.  Her warm, liquid lips were pressed to mine.  Her
tongue was gently dancing on my teeth and into my welcoming mouth.

I pushed her away, fully knowing that this is where we were headed all
along, but needing to protest for the sake of my virtue, “Constance, I’m
not lesbian.”

She chuckled lightly.  Her laugh was as smooth and syrupy as her voice, “I
know my darling, but I am.  I’ll teach you, slowly and patiently, I’ll
teach you.”

“Oh dear God,” I moaned just before her lips joined me again, setting my
mind ablaze for passions I had yet to know in life.  I wanted her, “take
me darling,” I gasped as the majestic woman captured my imagination and my
lusty soul, “I yours Constance, please take me.”

“Slowly darling.  Very, very slowly.” Her voice inflected with that same
cool, confidence.  She was the teacher, the mother, and I was to be her
obedient child.

Constance watched me prepare for bed that night.  She watched me disrobe,
commenting on how I should always hang my clothes properly, “Darling, you
must treat your clothing with respect, as all things in life should be
treated.”  I was terribly embarrassed, being taught like a child, but
followed her commands to a tee: “At least one hundred brush strokes every
night darling...remove all your make-up...clean your private places
dear...rub cream on your eyelids and your nipples...no, no darling, brush
your teeth like this.”

After I slipped beneath the covers, she didn’t say a word, other than when
she kissed my forehead as she tucked me into bed.

“I want you to always sleep nude Jennifer,” she more commanded than asked,
“I want to think of your lovely body, naked, needing my touch, always
waiting for me.  Tonight, I want you to think of things to come.”

“Constance,” I said in a pleading, begging, child-like voice as she was
headed out the door, “Constance, thank you.”

She smiled a broad, great smile at me, “Plan on staying through the
weekend next week.  Goodnight my love.”

I was on-fire the whole night and throughout the next day.  Visions of my
lover’s nude body lay out before me: her white, flawless skin a playground
for my mouth and fingers.  I hadn’t thought of lesbian sex since college,
when I caught my roommate Jilling-off one day.  And even then, my desires
were never the emotion-filled, satisfying fantasy--rapidly becoming
reality--that I felt with Constance.

She read my mind at every turn.  Her seduction of me was so expert, so
patient.  She knew the game, and was an excellent player.  That night, as
I masturbated, all I could envision was pleasing this woman who made me
feel so loved.  Her love was different from any I’d ever known.  The
emotions were true, and the physical boundaries were limitless.  There was
trust, caring, and understanding in our fantasy love making.

‘Would she?’ I prayed, ‘Could she?  Will she take me in ways I had always
hoped a lover would?  Can she control me, liberate my very being of the
desires I’ve held secret for so long?’

I cried on the flight home.  I felt empty; not being able to hold
Constance in my arms that night.  Once in my house, I tried to re-evaluate
my life.  Mike’s stuff was gone now, and thankfully he didn’t take any of
my possessions with him.  His memory faded quickly, as visions of my new
lover flooded my brain...there was Constance: controlling, loving,
seductive Constance.

I knelt before her, servicing my lover.  Bringing her pleasure with my
body in whatever way I could.  With my eyes closed tight, I smelled her
perfume; I smelled her hair...her long, glorious hair, dark and mysterious
as the woman herself.

I could hear her cries and moans, so vibrant were my fantasies now.  She
had to take me...she had to control and teach me.  ‘Constance, I love you.
I love you,’ I prayed to myself, kneeling on the hard floor in my empty
house.

Trying to sleep that night was, for me, like trying to run a
marathon...impossible.  My mind was conflicted.  I was delirious for this
woman, this sturdy, proper woman.  Then my thoughts turned to failure,
‘What if...’

I finally fell into a fitful sleep of “What ifs” waking with a start
around seven in the morning with the ringing from the phone.

“Hello.”

“I was thinking of you,” it was her.

“Oh Constance, I’ve thought of you since the moment you left my room,” my
voice begging, pleading for her acceptance.

“Don’t doubt my intent darling.”

“When, when?  When will you make me yours Constance?” I had to know.

“Soon Jennifer, very soon my love,” her promises firm, “your training will
prepare you soon.”

‘My training?’ so, that’s what this past week was...beyond an incredibly
sensual seduction, I was being trained for her pleasure.

“I’ll serve you in whatever way you deem I should Constance,” I promised
this goddess, this majestic beast, my new mommy.

“I know you will darling; I know just what you need.”

The rest of my weekend was spent dreaming of what she would do with me. 
Like I said, lesbian sex was not something I was particularly familiar
with, and all the possibilities sent my mind into a state of frenetic
lust.

‘What will I do if she asks me to kiss her “there”,’ I panicked a bit, but
settled-down as I looked at my pussy in the mirror and thought I would
have little hesitancy kissing this woman there.  ‘She will never hurt
me...pleasure...only pleasure.’


Chapter 4

“Never wear these hideous things again,” my new friend demanded as she
felt the pantyhose under my skirt, “only stockings and garter, or nothing
at all from now on.  I want your cunt to be fresh and available.”

Her use of that vulgar word, coupled with her normally proper ways set me
afire.  I closed my eyes and saw my furry little vagina as a cunt.  So
very different, so exciting, ‘I have a cunt,’ I smiled inwardly, ‘for the
first time in my life I have a cunt.  The center of pleasure and forbidden
desires.  How wonderful.’

Constance took me shopping on Monday night, buying upwards of a thousand
dollars worth of lingerie and “after hours” outfits for me to wear.

“I want you to always be feminine Jennifer,” she explained, “convenience
is not an issue, femininity is the only issue.  I want your cunt ready for
me dear.”

She still wouldn’t touch me in “that” way.  I pled and begged for her to
take me.  I wanted her to do things with, and to, me that pushed my
boundaries.

Tuesday, she held me close after dinner.  “I can smell you darling,” she
stated very matter-of-factly, “but I wonder if you are ready?”

“Please Constance...please take me however you see fit.  I am ready for
you.  Please teach me,” I needed her affection in new ways.  I needed to
know this new love.

“Soon darling, soon.”

She had me lay my head in her soft lap, as she opened her robe and brought
her tender nipple to my mouth, “suckle me Jennifer.  Suckle mommy’s
nipple.”

I could’ve spent an eternity nursing from her long, fat nipple.  My mind
became lost in the warmth and tenderness of her embrace.  Constance rocked
me in her arms and sang sweet lullabies.

“You’re going to make a wonderful girl,” she whispered to me as I passed
into a state of semi-consciousness and warm bliss.

Wednesday evening I went to her room.  I knew this would be “the” event of
our first passion.  The room was alight with candles, and splashed with
musk and perfume.  I knew my eyes betrayed my desire to experience her
pleasure; pleading and wanting, ready to holler my yearning to taste this
goddess, my mommy.

“Excuse me while I change into something more comfortable,” she excused
herself with a sly grin.

We had already exceeded our two drinks, and were now on our fourth.  After
a week of forced sobriety, I felt silly and giddy with the booze.  I would
have thrown-off my clothes at the word “Boo” and fucked anything that
moved at that point.

The lights came down.  I sat, my eyes transfixed on the bathroom door from
my seat on the wide, soft sofa.  And then, she appeared--my Gothic
lover--the woman who would command me into a lifetime of subservience to
her body and will.

She was dark and dangerous.  Her skin still the ultimate pale white, but
her eyes painted, black and evil.  Her lips painted blood, blood red.  Her
breasts were jutting proudly from her chest; waiting for my lips to excite
and tantalize.

“Oh my dear Lord...help me,” I gasped aloud.

“Are you ready to please me Jennifer?” Constance asked.

“Yes please, Constance,” I was so, so ready to submit to her every whim.

Her costume was breathtaking; shiny, slick and black.  Her boots came to
the mid-point of her soft, white thighs.  The heels at least five inches
high, making her legs appear long and strong.  She wore a vinyl teddy; her
cunt and breasts framed by rhinestones.  The cleft of her cunt and large
boobs were forced through the tight openings of her costume into engorged,
puffy folds of wanton need.

“Are you sure you’re ready darling,” she practically hissed; sitting in a
cushy chair, spreading her legs wide and exposing her wet, wet cunt to my
intent gaze.

“Yes Constance.” I had to have her.  I had to be controlled by my goddess,
“Yes, I’m ready.”

“Crawl to me.  Get on your hands and knees and crawl to my cunt,” she
commanded me.

I willingly, eagerly, did as she asked.

“Stop.  Look at my hole,” gone was her cool demeanor, replaced by a lusty,
needy bitch, “tell me what you see, whore.”

Her foul language piqued me towards greater perversity and deviance, “Oh
please Constance...don’t make me say it.”

“Tell me what you see,” she demanded.

“Your thing...your cunt,” my voice now needful.  I had to try it.  I had
to taste her sex.

“What do you see slut?” her tone changing from caring lover to demanding
mistress, “tell me about my cunt.”

“It’s red.  It’s bare, swollen, red, and it wants me to kiss it.” I said
while staring at her hairless mound.

“You learn fast Jennifer, darling.”

“Oh please,” my hands on her soft thighs, as I stared at the pulsing cunt
before me.

“Do you want to kiss my cunt dear Jennifer?”

“Oh very much Constance, yes please, very much.”

“You may ask to kiss my cunt,” she commanded.

“Constance, may I pleeeeeeease kiss your cunt?”

“Why should you be allowed to kiss me there?  What have you done to
deserve my cunt?” she was being cruel.

“I love you Constance!” I begged for a taste of her.

“Many women love me, but very few are allowed to put their mouth on my
cunt.” She demanded more from me than love, “Again, why should you be
permitted this rare pleasure.”

“I’ll do anything.  Please Constance...anything at all...anything you
desire,” I pled.

“Kiss me here,” she commanded, pointing to a spot on her left thigh just
above the top of her boot.

I bent my body forward and lightly kissed her pale, flawless skin.

“Now here,” she pointed to the same spot on her opposite leg, “and make it
wet this time.”

I kissed her soft thigh in a wet, passionate kiss.

“Better.  Now, mix a cocktail for me.”

I began to rise to mix her drink, but was quickly corrected, “I didn’t
tell you to stand, crawl Jennifer.  I want to watch your bottom wiggle as
you crawl.”

I exaggerated a wiggle in my butt as I crawled to the sideboard and mixed
Constance a martini.  Getting back to my position in front of her was a
bit more difficult, as I almost spilled the cocktail while shuffling my
knees on the carpet.

“Very good Jennifer,” she praised me as I handed her the cool beverage.

“Thank you Constance.”

“Place your hands on the top of my boots,” she commanded, “and lean
forward, but do not touch my cunt.”

I obeyed and bent my face towards her cunt.  It was visibly wet now.  My
lover’s fluid was wetting her puffy labia and bottom.

“Smell me.  Look me in the eyes and smell my cunt darling,” she commanded
as she stared down at me from behind the rim of her glass.

I inhaled deeply; one, twice, three times...intoxicated by her heady
aroma.

“Once more for luck darling.  You’re going to be tested, so get a good
whiff,” Constance was even more demanding.

I bent again and smelled her strong odor: a womanly scent that I’ve always
found distasteful, but now...now I couldn’t imagine life without it.

“Kneel upright,” another command, exciting and controlling, “describe my
cunt smell while I finish my cocktail.  Look directly at me as you speak.”

My voice quivered and trembled slightly as I spoke, “Your cunt smells warm
and salty,” I began.  I was kneeling on the thick carpet, fully-dressed in
a sheer white blouse and short plaid skirt.  My hands shook, and I could
feel a blush cover my face as I looked Constance in the eye and continued,
“You cunt smells strong and heady.  It has the most beautiful aroma in the
world; it has the smell of you, my darling.  Your cunt smells of humidity
and excitement.  Your cunt smells of womanly desire for her lover.”

Constance took the last sip of her drink, “Stand and mix me another,” her
eyes followed me, always evaluating my performance.

“You’re doing very, very good Jennifer,” she praised me as I handed her
the cocktail; feeling proud, “Strip for me darling.  Do it slowly, and beg
for access to my cunt.”

I started a slow dance, unbuttoning my blouse slowly, seductively.  Doing
my best to entice my lover, “Constance my darling lover, may I please be
permitted to kiss your wet, flowing cunt,” I pled my case before my
nasty-minded judge.

By the time I stood naked before her, she seemed please with my display of
subservience to her desires.

“Will you do as I command of you, both in and out of the bedroom?”

“Yes Constance, anything.”

“Will you stop acting like a whining, out-of-control child in public
places?”

This shocked me a bit, “Yes Constance.”

“Will you worship me in whatever ways I choose?”

“Yes Constance,” I was going mad, standing naked before her.  My
excitement had to be obvious, as I felt my wetness coat my inner thighs.

“Will you be polite and respectful to others?”

“Yes, oh yes...please Constance.”

“Will you accept anything my cunt has to offer?”

“Yes!”

“From now on, when we are alone, you will address me as Mother or Mommy,
is that clear Jennifer?”

“Yes Mother.”

“Hmm...yes, good,” she said dryly.

Constance stood and removed her vinyl teddy.  She was before me, towering
over me in her high heels.  I marveled at her perfect nakedness, there was
not a flaw anywhere to be found on her.  My lover’s breasts were
beautifully formed; large and full, with nipples the palest of pale pinks,
her bottom round like the most perfect peach, and her face positively
glowed.

“Let’s see how willing you are darling,” she said as she kissed me.  Her
lips were magical in teasing and tantalizing me.  “Follow me Jennifer...on
your hands and knees, crawl.”

I eagerly crawled after her like the bitch-in-heat that I was.  Her bottom
quivered slightly with every step she took.  Constance was my goddess, her
long black hair flowing across her strong shoulders and back and onto the
top of her ass.  She stopped at the foot of the bed, bent at the waist,
placing her hands on the cool sheets.

“Place your hands on my buttocks,” she demanded of me.

“Yes Mother,” I did as she asked.

“Feel them, feel my ass cheeks,” she directed my every move, “are they
soft and lovely?”

“Yes Mother, they’re wonderfully soft and beautiful.”

“Spread them open.  What do you see Jennifer?”

“I see your cunt and your anus Mother,” I was trembling fiercely as she
led me through this amazing, exotic ritual.

“Now Jennifer?  Again...what do you see young lady?” her voice stern and
more demanding.

“Your...your cunt is red, swollen, wet, and open.  I see your clitoris
poking through your lips now.” I marveled at her excited vagina as I
meekly choked out the words.

“And what of Mommy’s anus?”

I felt a tiny burst of orgasm course through my loins in a lovely wave,
“Your anus is a very delicate pink and is wet from your cunt juice...and
Mother, it’s puckering at me.”

“Yes my darling, I’m quite sure it is,” she seemed pleased with my
description and her own physical response to my servitude.  “What do you
think my anus wants, since it is puckering for you?”

My mind was racing now.  I knew what she was going to ask of me. 
“Constance, I don’t think I can do this,” I was about to cry, afraid that
she would abandon me if I couldn’t perform a task.

“Of course you can Jennifer.  You shall do exactly as I ask of you, or you
may leave.”

“Please don’t.”

“What does my anus want from you darling,” she demanded harshly.

“A kiss,” I began sobbing quietly as I prepared for her next command.

“Well?” she didn’t need to finish the question.

“May I please kiss your anus Mother?” My shame was total; complete.

“You may kiss Mother’s anus darling, make it very, very wet, and do not
stop until I have told you to stop,” how could she make such a vile and
disgusting request of me, “come now darling, don’t be such a baby”

I pried her cheeks further apart and dipped my face into her crack.  My
mouth opened and I kissed her most forbidden place.  The kisses were
tentative at first.  Gradually, I felt the heat of her anus, and the taste
of her cunt.  Moans filled the room, it was me.

I loved Constance’s anus with my mouth and tongue.  Her bottom seemed to
blossom as the tip of my soft tongue touched the tiny center of her anus. 
I loved it: the depravity and the complete submission of my being to this
loving, controlling woman.

“You’re doing beautifully darling.  Oh yes Jennifer, just like that,”
Constance’s voice now excited and trembling as I aroused her bottom with
my efforts.

The aroma of her cunt grew stronger the more I licked at the alter of her
anus.  My own excitement grew and grew as her bottom contracted tightly on
my tongue, trapping my face.

“Worship my anus darling, suck Mother’s asshole,” she groaned her
approval.

It was maddening for me.  My nipples were painfully erect and my cunt was
leaking all over my thighs.  The smell of women’s’ sexual excitement
filled the air.  Sex had always been quick, animalistic shagging in my
past.  The slowness and ritual aspects of this encounter brought me into a
trace-like state.  This new state-of-mind forced me to fully-accept my
submission, and gave me time to reflect on the depravity of each act.

“Enough Jennifer,” Constance pulled forward, breaking contact with my
mouth.

She led me to the bed, on my back, so that my head was towards the foot of
the bed.  My dear lover removed her boots and stood commandingly above me.

She smiled at me warmly, “Beg for Mother’s cunt dear.”

“Oh Mother...please Mommy, please, may I kiss your cunt now,” as I begged,
Constance was slowly squatting towards my face.  Her folds opened to my
gaze so the delicate pink insides of her cunt came into view.

“Oh yes please...feed me your cunt Mother,” my voice a breathless whisper
of need.

Constance steadied her decent by placing her hands on the top of my head. 
She descended further, her wet opening fractions of an inch from my mouth.

“Suck Mother’s cunt you naughty, naughty girl,” she hissed as she pulled
my face into her while lowering that fragrant cunt the last little bit.

“Mmmmmmmm....Mmmmmmmm....MMMmmmmmmmmmmmm,” was all that could be heard
from me as this sweet seductress took me, forced me to pleasure her wet,
flowing hole with my lips.

“Ahhhhhh...yessssssssssss,” she hissed, grinding her open sex onto her
willing submissive, “Yessssssss...yesssssss...eat my cunt you dear child.”

She rode my face and mouth hard and soft, fast and slow until I was
completely bathed in her juice.  I wallowed in it, I relished it: sweet,
salty, thick and creamy it poured into my mouth.

“Cummming darling...Mothers cumming now,” her body tensed, her thighs
clamping tightly against my head as her hips bucked spastically on my
face.  I held onto her thighs until she finished her climax.

My lover looked down at me, and crawled off my face.  She smiled, happy at
my slick, wet appearance, “You were wonderful Jennifer.  You did so well
darling.”

We kissed lightly, my lips feeling chapped and tender.  I fell asleep
snuggled against her large bosom, happy with myself for loosing control to
this majestic beast.


Chapter 5

My lover and I cuddled for a bit, she stroking my hair as my fingers
danced over her bare cunt.  I was fascinated by the smoothness of her
puffy lips, they were much more pronounced than mine and so much fun to
toy with.

“Have I created a monster?” Constance laughed quietly, referring to my
tickling finger tips.

“You’re just so beautiful there,” I begged her understanding.

“You’re just so beautiful...period,” she hugged me closer as she fed me
her nipple.

I couldn’t imagine a safer, warmer, more loving place to be than in this
woman’s arms.

Constance moaned lightly as I masturbated her to a quiet climax,
“Jennifer, it’s your turn now.  Mother is going to make a woman of you
dear.  Are you ready?”

“Oh yes Mother, take me, own me,” my pulse quickened at the thought of
what my lovely beast would do to my body.

“Go mix us cocktails while I freshen up,” she commanded, “and dear, put
your panties back on, but not your bra, I have something else for you to
wear.”

Constance retired to the bathroom carrying her shiny outfit and boots
while I scurried from bed and mixed our drinks.  Within a few moments, she
joined me in the sitting room, dressed in her dark, dangerous sex suit. 
But, with the added addition of elbow length vinyl gloves added to her
costume.  She was holding a frilly white and pink corset in her grasp.

“Come Jennifer, let’s start your waist training,” she said, leaving me
confused.

I allowed myself to be bent towards the sideboard, as Constance helped me
into the corset.  “Tell me when it feels too tight darling,” she gently
whispered as she began lacing this foreign device to my body.

“Now dear, breath-in deeply three times, and then exhale as hard and as
you can...give it everything baby girl,” she commanded.

I did, and wow, “Oh, oh, oh...too tight, too tight,” I begged for release
as Constance gave the laces in back a mighty pull as I exhaled, “oh
please.”

The corset was so tight I could barely breathe.  She ignored my pleas,
telling me, “stop being a baby Jennifer,” as my controlling Mother tied
the laces into a graceful bow.

Constance held me from behind as we both admired her handiwork in the wall
mirror.  I had to admit, I looked incredibly girly and sexy dressed in the
white garter and stockings, tiny lace panties and this new addition to my
costume; a white and baby pink satin corset.

“Lovely my darling, you are just lovely,” her whisper was tickling my ear
as we watched each other in the mirror.

The stark contrast of this dark, dangerous woman and my white, innocent
persona were startling.  A shiver ran through my body at the thought of
the lewd and lascivious activities she had planned for me.  She ran hers
hands over my accentuated hips and around my constricted waist again, and
again.

“Just lovely,” she breathed into my ear and wrapped her hands around my
waist, “we will have you down to fourteen inches in no time.”

My lover moaned at the sensuous feel of the slick fabric upon slick
fabric.  I slumped my head back onto her shoulder as her hands roamed my
body.  She felt me everywhere.  Her shiny vinyl gloves were petting me
towards sexual madness as they passed over my flattened boobs and between
my sodden thighs.

“Oh Constance...please...now...take me...ravish my body,” I begged with my
eyes shut tight.

“Slowly darling girl, slowly,” her hot breath a fiery lightning bolt on my
neck.

We sat next to each other on the sofa, our drinks in hand.  Sitting was a
challenge since my waist was cinched-down four inches by the sexy corset. 
Constance began casually chatting about my first taste of her cunt.

“Did you like Mother’s cunt dear?  Was it how you imagined I would taste?”
she questioned me very nonchalantly.

I desperately wanted to breathe deeper, but the tight corset forced me to
use small, gasping breaths, “Yes Mother,” gasp, gasp, “your cunt flavor
was divine.”

This game was brilliant.  The conversation further enforced my submission
to my controlling lover.  Every breath I spoke now was in response to a
question regarding her anus or her cunt.  She forced me to admit my
naughty nature, and once again to proclaim my desire to do anything she
demanded of me.

“You will worship my anus everyday darling, is that clear?” she half
snickered, pushing my boundaries of submission.

“Yes Mother.” My head bowed in acceptance of my new duties to her.

“First thing tomorrow, we will have the bellman bring your things into my
room,” she was taking total control now, “next week you will make
arrangements to move in with me in Memphis, am I clear.”

“Oh Constance,” I groaned in delight, “Are you serious?  Do you want me?”

“Yes,” she said impatiently, “am I clear Jennifer.”

“Oh yes darling...yes, yes, yes,” my eyes welling-up with tears as I
gasped for breath.

For my entire adult life, well actually, since puberty, I dreamed of a
lover that would completely possess me.  That dear, sweet lover who could
make me want discipline, and who could control my more self-destructive
tendencies.  Constance was to be that lover.  I never imagined a woman
filling this role, always, it was a man: muscled and strong, but no man
could tame me.  Not as my Constance had.

“Mix us another cocktail and then model for me,” these were never
questions, always commands that I was expected to obey without question.

“We’re out of vodka.”

Constance called the bar, “Yes, and have Marie bring it up...I do not want
to see a man outside my door...yes, thank you.”

I strutted my stuff as best I could.  The high heels and tight corset took
some getting use to, but my lover was patient.  She had me bend over the
back of the sofa and lower my panties, showing off my smooth bottom.

“So lovely,” she appraised my bare cheeks, “have you ever been penetrated
here darling,” she inquired while pressing her gloved fingertip against my
anus.

“N-n-no Mother,” I was terrified of the implication of her question.  My
first husband had tried that once and I almost cut his dick off for his
efforts.

“We will get there eventually dear.” She promised.

Next, she had me sit on the sofa and slowly roll my panties off my legs. 
I felt so terribly exposed.  My legs were spread lewdly as my lover
instructed me to pull my cunt open wide as she sat on the coffee table and
inspected my hole.

“You have fucked men, correct?” she was becoming more and more harsh,
wanting me to confess to her what sluttish things I’ve done in my life.

“Yes,” my response was practically guilty.

She looked deeper inside me, “You have sucked a man’s penis then,
correct?”

“Yes Mother.”

“Have you swallowed sperm?”

“Yes,” I was once again on the verge of tears as my lover forced my
answers.

“Are you done with men forever?”

“Yes Constance, I love you,” I cried softly, “why are you doing this to
me?”

“Everything has its purpose darling, 

There was a knock at the door, “Room service,” came a woman’s voice.

“Stay just as you are Jennifer, no matter what, stay that way,” Constance
commanded.

I had an uneasy feeling as my controlling lover answered the door.  My
body was quaking a bit; my pussy was aflame, soaking the sofa cushion
under my bottom.

“Marie, please come in.” my lover’s voice loud enough for me to hear her
inviting the strange woman in to witness my submission.

My uneasiness was justified.  Constance told me not to move, but my mind
was telling me to cover-up and hide.  Nobody could know of my desires.  I
would be exposed as a lesbian if this person saw me sitting here pulling
my cunt lips open.

“Jennifer, this is Miss Marie, she is an old friend,” My cruel, cruel
lover smiled at the short-haired woman carrying the tray with a bottle of
vodka on it.

“Oh aren’t you just a pretty little thing Jennifer,” the woman grinned at
me as Mother signed for the booze.

“You must excuse her for being so impolite, as you can see Jennifer is
occupied at the moment.” Constance was enjoying my humiliation.

My tears flowed freely now, “Why Constance, why?” I protested this
invasion of our secret game.

How could my tender caring lover do this to me?  She has utterly
humiliated me before another.  My sobs were heaving now, my tears of fear
and embarrassment all too real as the woman stuck a finger in my cunt and
brought it to my lover’s nose.

Constance stared into my eyes.  Her face intense...mean and glowering,
“The slut’s hole smells good.”

“Why Constance, why?” I pled to my lover, praying for her controlling
tenderness of earlier moments.

She said nothing, but took the woman’s sticky fingers into her red, red
lips and sucked the slimy digits clean.  “I must fuck her now,” she moaned
to the hotel employee.

“You’re a lucky girl,” Marie said while heading towards the door.

Before my eyes cleared, the woman was out the door and Constance stood
before me pouring lubricating jelly over her gloved right hand.  My level
of fear increased ten-fold, thinking that she intended to put her entire
hand inside me...I wasn’t wrong.

“Jenny, I’m going to fuck you now.  I’m going to fuck you inside-out,” she
spouted her venom with fire in her eyes and lust in her heart.

All I could think to say at that point was the cliché for virgins the
world over, “Please be gentle.”

She was.  I should have never doubted this amazing woman.  Her fingers
went inside me, one, two, three.  She slowed on her fourth finger,
allowing my cunt time to become accustomed to her invading digits.

“Ohhh...ohh...slow, slow,” I begged as her hand entered me further and
further.

Her methods were well practiced.  She stretched me.  She opened my cunt as
a bee would open a flower; persistence and patience were her allies.  When
her thumb slipped into my needy void, I thought I would die from the sheer
pleasure.  No lover had ever demanded so much from my body, but no lover
had ever been so tender and offered so much either.

My mouth opened in a deafening, silent scream, I clutched my dear sweet
lover’s body close as I climaxed; truly, truly climaxed.  There were no
soft sighs, no content moans--this was a fucking orgasm.  My mind went
wild, and uncontrolled with passion.  My body convulsed, bucked, pulsed in
ways that left me exhausted.  And my cunt, that newly discovered center of
pleasure, gave in to the demanding thrusts of my lover’s hand...open,
open...wider, wider.

“Oh fuck me...fuck me!” I cried again and again... “Oh
Constance...please...please...never stop fucking me.”

I was so overwhelmed by my release it took me a few minutes to realize my
lover was speaking to me, “You will do what I tell you when I tell you,
yes?”

“Oh yes...yes...anything...anything you want,” I pleaded and begged for
more.

I had been taken.  Like all my dreams and fantasies of sexual encounters,
a lover had finally done to me what I secretly wished.  I lost total
control and was ravished.  My lovely beast, this majestic woman, took me
to new heights of release and passion...she owned my cunt for all times.

“Are you alright darling?” she asked, now concerned for my wellbeing.

“Yes, I’m wonderful” it was now my eyes ablaze with passion and desire for
the perverse, “can we do it again?”

“Slut.”

“For you, only for you Constance.  Forever for you, my lover,” I professed
my need for her soft embrace and thorough fucking.

“My wonderful, darling slut,” she held me tight in her strong arms.

My life seemed complete...safe and warm in the arms of my magnificent
woman.


Chapter 6

My dear new Mother taught me many wondrous, sexy things over the next
three weeks.  But mostly, what she taught me was to be respectful and
polite.  Not just towards her, but towards every person I came in contact
with.

“Kill them with kindness darling, it’s much more effective than your silly
temper-tantrums,” and she was right, of course.

“Yes Mother,” I said, accepting that my happy outlook and sunny
disposition were a result of my training.  I felt good about life again.

I worshipped her anus every morning and every night for at least and hour
each and every day.  She allowed me the pleasure of servicing her
beautiful, bare cunt a few times per week, and gave me the exquisite agony
and release of her hand when the whim struck her.  Constance loved me
physically and emotionally, always caring and always pushing.  I was never
to make decisions at home, at home I was not to be in control, and Mother
reinforced this by having me perform for special friends, like Marie.

My level of femininity increased with every moment I spent with Constance.
 She molded me into her perfect girl at home, and into a more controlled
professional in my business life.

‘If only they knew that I am sitting in this meeting with my training plug
up my bottom,’ I giggled to myself, as three VPs were arguing in the same
bitter, vituperate tones I use to spout.  I sat quietly, smiling.

“Hello Constance,” it was lunch and I needed to hear my lover’s voice.

“Hello Jennifer is anything wrong?” she asked.

“No, no...I was just thinking of you...actually I can’t stop thinking of
you because I have a little reminder here with me,” I chuckled as I
referred to the piece of plastic stuck in my bum.

“You’re a very naughty young lady Jennifer,” her voice a barely audible
whisper, “Mommy loves you darling.  Let your excitement build slowly. 
Remember it’s only Monday and we won’t be opening that special place until
Saturday.”

Just then one of the angry VPs stood at my office door waiting for me to
get off the phone.

I returned the volume and tone of my voice to normal, “Yes Mother, I
understand, not until Saturday...Yes, yes right...alright Mother
goodbye...Yes Mom, I love you too.”

Constance burst into a fit of giggles as she realized somebody was
listening to my call.  The angry VP seemed much less angry while he
thought I was talking to my real Mom and was all sunshine and smiles when
I hung up the phone.

“Talking to your Mom, huh?” he was super sharp, this one was, “That
reminds me, I need to call my Mother today.”

I sat, with my correct posture, trained and enforced by daily corset wear,
wiggled my bottom into the chair and smiled, “That’s nice Mr. Smith, is
there anything I can help you with.”

The remainder of the week building towards the climactic Saturday was all
warmth and kisses.  Every night just before bedtime, Constance gave me an
enema and inserted a slightly larger plug up my bottom than from the day
before.  I snuggled into her loving embrace, her warm nipple in my mouth
and my anus being gently stretched open for her soothing hand.

“I love you Jennifer,” my Mommy whispered, as she stroked my hair while I
nursed.

“MMmmm,” I moaned lightly as I fell asleep with dreams of my next level of
submission dancing through my head.


Chapter 7

Marie joined us in our room on Friday.  She brought along a friend, again
embarrassing me to no end, but Mother told me to be polite and not protest
in front of company.

That evening, I was dressed in a plain white cotton bra and white cotton
panties with little yellow flowers.  I also wore ruffle-topped ankle socks
and plain white tennis shoes.  Constance dressed in a high-collar
schoolmarm outfit; she was looking very stern and acting strict.

“You may fix cocktails for us darling,” Mother instructed me.

Sipping our cocktails--Constance staid and proper, me meek and blushing,
and Marie doe-eyed towards her friend--we learned that Lisa, Marie’s
friend, wasn’t lesbian, but was very curious.

“And I’m really curious about...you know...what you two do,” she couldn’t
get the words out.

“Dominance and submission Lisa,” Marie blurted out crudely.

Lisa could not keep her eyes off Constance, and I felt a twinge of
jealousy.  I would be used in anyway my Mother chose to use me, but having
a woman ogle her made me upset.

“It’s more than that though...we love each other,” I felt like jumping up
and kicking these voyeurs out the door.

“Shush Jennifer,” Mother quieted me, “Jennifer is right though, I love her
dearly and will not do anything to hurt her.  All my actions are for her
training.  She is learning to be a very good little girl.”

“I love you Mommy,” I staked my claim to my woman, hugging her.

“Wow, I never thought...I never considered,” Lisa stuttered, as I notice
the wedding band gracing her left ring finger.

“Mommy games can be very fun,” Marie was focused purely on the sexual
aspects, and getting this married woman into bed.

I served our guests two more rounds of drinks as Lisa asked many questions
about what Constance and I found in each other.  She asked about our
backgrounds, and was particularly interested in my most recent phase of
training.

“Come Jennifer, bend over Mother’s lap so our guest may see,” she
demanded, pulling me down across her firm legs so that my bottom was
pointed towards our guests.

Constance inched my tight cotton panties off my bottom, and down to about
the middle of my thighs, “See Lisa, my darling girl has worn this since
last night.  Tonight is her final night of stretching before she will
receive my full love in there.”

“It’s in her butt?” Lisa sounded stunned, and I blushed all over.

“Come look dear.  Kneel here and look how lovely she is,” Mother commanded
the twenty-something housewife.

In my minds eye I knew the state Lisa was in.  I’m not sure what, if any
seduction Marie had done with this woman, but just the sound of
Constance’s prim and proper voice would seduce the inexperienced woman.

“Place your hands on her buttocks darling,” Mother was cool and collected
as she used my body to entice the woman, “good...good...now spread the
cheeks open slowly, dear Jennifer is very sensitive down there at the
moment, so be very gentle.

I felt her trembling hands grasp onto the half moons of my bottom and open
me, “Oh my God...ohmigod,” she gasped.

“See how her anus is stretched,” Mother whispered, “Isn’t she just
lovely?”

“Un huh,” Lisa mumbled dumbly, “does it hurt?”

“Answer Lisa, Jennifer,” Mother ordered.

“No, it feels full...unusual and full and exciting,” I answered dutifully.

“Wow, look how wet her pussy is,” Lisa marveled at my visible, dripping
excitement.

Constance stroked her strong finger through my sodden furrow, “Taste her
Lisa, taste my darling girl’s cunt.”

I knew that was it for little miss married girl, as I heard her moan and
the slick sounds of Lisa licking my cream from Mother’s finger filled the
air.  Marie moaned, and Constance chuckled as she seduced yet another
woman into the wonders of loving women.

I watched Marie walk past us, headed for the bathroom.  Constance, at
least I assumed it was my Mommy, grabbed the base of my butt plug and
began slowly removing the device.

“Ohhhhhhhh...Mother...please,” I groaned as the widest part of the toy
stretched my anus, “please get it out.”

“Oh my gosh,” Lisa gasped as she witnessed my anus gaping open as the plug
was finally removed.

“Kiss her there little Lisa,” Constance ordered the woman, “see Jennifer’s
bottom puckering-up for you, she wants you to kiss her there.”

“I can’t do that,” Lisa protested Constance’s order, but her voice sounded
unconvincing; caught somewhere between desire and morality.

Marie returned, and I soon felt the cool nozzle of my enema going up my
winking bum.  The warm water flowed, and soon my belly was full and
bloated.

“Mommy, I need to pooh pooh,” I whined, trying to hold my daily cleaning.

“Shhhhh darling, soon, soon.  Just relax and let it work,” Constance
comforted me as I struggled to hold the water inside my loosened anus.

It was probably only a few minutes, but felt like hours before I was
permitted to waddle to the toilet and expel my enema.  Marie, Lisa, and
Mother all watched as I evacuated, and Lisa was all giggles as she and
Marie watched Constance clean my bottom afterwards.

“Would you do that for me?” Lisa asked Marie.

“Yes baby...do you want me to fuck you in the ass too?” Marie was far to
blunt for my tastes.

Mother decided I was on display for long enough, and asked our guests to
leave.  But, promised Marie that she, or both she and Lisa, could drop by
on Sunday to see if I was able to pass my next test.

“Constance?” I began in a very serious tone, “Mother, why do you let other
people watch us?  Why do I have to worship Marie’s anus sometimes?”

“Because Jennifer, I wish it...these things are not your choice dear...you
may not make decisions when you are in my presence,” her explanation
crystal clear, “you are mine to do with as I see fit.”

For the first time since this marvelous beast seduced me, Constance knelt
before me and removed my shoes and socks, then my bra, before kissing me
lightly.

“Watch me undress darling, we will be equals tonight,” her voice glowed
and sparkled as she started stripping for me.  Much as I had done for her
weeks earlier, and on many nights since, Constance swayed to her own tune
and peeled one layer of clothing off after another, until she stood before
me, nude, reaching her hand for mine.

“I want to make love to you tonight,” her voice soft, caring, and wanting,
“be my lover you darling woman.”

We spent hours exploring each other in that magic bed.  Her touch was
gentle and tender.  Tonight there were no other rituals to perform, no
staged scenes, just caring and tenderness.  I was completely, totally,
unconditionally in love with my darling Mommy.

Constance was very patient and very tender later in the evening as she
placed the final stretching plug in my rectum, “I promise you will like it
my love.”

“I know I will Mother,” oh how I wanted this woman to be mine forever and
ever, “I trust you.”

It was close to two in the morning as we assumed our sleeping positions:
my hand on her cunt, her nipple in my mouth, and my dear sweet Mommy
humming lullabies into my, needy, child-like soul.


Chapter 8

Constance allowed me access to her cunt on Saturday morning.  I had an
insatiable desire to please my conqueror in any way possible, prior to the
events of that night.  I wanted her happy and content as she attempted to
put her hand inside my bottom.

“Jennifer?  You know I will never hurt you?”

“Yes Mother,” I told a little fib, I was more nervous about today’s events
than at any time in my entire life.

She lifted my face from her cunt, “I will never hurt you Jennifer, “her
expression serious and dire.

“Yes Constance, I know.”

We spent the day shopping and visiting museums and art galleries.  My feet
were tired and sore by the time we returned to our room at five or so.  My
lover rubbed and massaged my sore dogs for what seemed like hours, and I
did the same for her delicate feet.  My cunt and anus were a pulsing,
humid mess in anticipation of the kinky games to follow...these parts
needed to be tested once more.

Constance surprised me again, as my dear lover dressed me for a night out
on the town.  She bathed me, cleaning me inside and out.  Applied my make
up and scent in tasteful layers.  Reseated the plug in my bottom and
secured it in place with a white leather harness.  She helped me into a
new custom made garter corset; all white, stiff and soft.  And then into
the dress made of lovely silks and satins: white, with a high-collar and
keyhole cutout in the front, exposing my corset-enhanced cleavage.

Mother had me sit and wait while she prepared herself for our night out. 
I was in awe of my lover as she appeared wearing a black, stretch lace
ankle-length dress.  Like my outfit, the collar was high under the chin,
but the unique creation sported zippers that ran the full length, front
and back.

“You’re beautiful Mother,” I gasped at this vision before me.

“Thank you Jennifer,” she said coolly.

Our reservations were for eight o’clock at Chez Nous to the north of the
city.  My sweet lover had a sumptuous limousine pick us up at quarter
after seven, to provide us with a pleasant, peaceful ride to supper.

Now, I have dined in restaurants all over the USA, Mexico, Canada, Asia,
and Europe, and this eatery--this fine establishment--is one of the finest
ever.  The food, presentation, service, and ambience were spectacular!  In
this quiet, sumptuous space, with my tender lover, a large piece of
plastic inside my anus...quite possibly, this was the most fantastic,
delicious, magical meal in my life.

“Are you happy Jennifer?” Constance asked

“Yes Constance,” I whispered very softy amongst the sea of married couples
surrounding our table.

“You live for me, don’t’ you?”

“Yes darling, for you and only you.”

I was completely starved when the waiter brought our appetizer of classic
shrimp cocktail.  There, standing proudly on a bed of cocktail sauce,
wedged into the top of half a lemon, surrounded by a dozen pink
crustaceans, was an immense engagement ring.

“Then you are to be my wife Jennifer,” Constance commanded with a warm,
loving gleam in her eye.

My eyes had to be the size of saucers as I stared in wonder at the ring. 
The central diamond had to weigh three carats or more, the setting ornate
and complex.  The accompanying stones would be more than suitable as
solitaires on ninety percent of the engagement bands in the world.

“Constance...I...I,” my voice stuttered and stammered, “anything my
darling Mother.”  I was welling up.  I so wanted to jump the table and
kiss my lover.  “I will be a proper and obedient wife for you Constance,”
I promised in a whisper, “I will be yours forever.”

Mother placed the ring on my finger; holding my hand in a way that could
only be construed as the tender grasp of a caring lover.  We looked deeply
into each others eyes as I allowed my submission to her to become complete
in this very public place.  Surprisingly, the young traditional couple
sitting at an adjacent table started applauding, applause which then built
to other tables.

I blushed bright red, as Constance continued to hold my hand while she
politely acknowledged the outpouring of affection and congratulations from
our fellow diners.  My nerves finally returned after a few moments, and I
looked around at our well wishers.  Many of the women had looks of
understanding or envy, while many of the men had that look of, “Can I
watch,” on their faces.

I noticed a few couples who appeared disgusted and one woman in particular
who outright scowled at us.  Funny thing though, scowling woman sure
seemed to be rubbing her thighs together awfully hard...I wondered briefly
what fantasy she was having.

“Thank you Constance, thank you for making my life complete.”


Chapter 9

The furniture in our room was slightly rearranged when Constance carried
me over the threshold soon after midnight.  She turned on some soft music
and invited me to dance with her.

With every slow turn, or next step, I felt the fullness in my bottom...my
excitement building more rapidly now...anticipating the fulfillment of my
total submission to my Mother.  I saw our reflection in the mirror as we
swayed together slowly; black and white, good and evil, worldly and
innocent, the yin and yang of all life.  We were one and the same
now...two unique halves of the whole; a completed whole.

“Please take me now Mother,” I whispered to Constance, “consummate our
love.”

Constance stopped our swaying, took my face in her hands and kissed me. 
Her kiss soft and tender, wet, but no too wet, passionate, but not too
passionate.  Our passion was to build slowly this night.

I was led to a position bent slightly over the dining table.  In this
position, I could watch what took place in a large wall mirror.

“You are to watch us at all times darling,” Mother’s voice now turning
intense as she stood behind me and observed my every tremble and twitch.

“Yes Mother.”

“Your safe word will be ‘ice hockey’.  Do you understand?” she laid the
rules down.

“Yes Mother.”

“If this hurts, then stop me...I never want to hurt you darling.” Her eyes
were so warm and wonderful as we spoke to each other’s reflection in the
mirror.

“Yes Mother, I understand.”

She raised my dress up over my bottom and secured it around my waist.  My
bare bottom was exposed and thrust up, ready and waiting.  My sweet lover
stroked my cheeks and tapped the base of the training plug still lodged
inside my rectum.

“I love you Jennifer.” She stated a fact that did not demand a response.

“On Monday you will resign from your job,” a command, not a question.

“Yes Mother.”

“On Tuesday you will register for professional cooking classes starting in
the fall,” she would fully domesticate me, and I was not only willing, but
happy at the thought.

“Oh yes Mother,” my response enthusiastic at the prospect of spending my
days in loving servitude.

“On Wednesday you will prepare our belongings for travel on a three week
trip,” what had my dear lover planned?

“Yes Mother.”

“Thursday we shall travel.”

“Yes Mother.”

“Friday we will rest and make love.”

“Yes Mother.”

“Saturday we will be married as Mother and wife,” her voice full of
tenderness, but there were undertones of the stern taskmistress lurking in
her soul, “you will profess your unconditional love for me and submission
to my whims.  You will also sign a binding contract that day agreeing to
the same.  Do you accept this?”

“Yes Mother, I accept you unconditionally.”

“I will care for you, and love you always.”

“Thank you Mother,” I was trembling now.

Constance began removing the leather harness holding the plug in my
rectum.  Her motion was smooth and skillful.  She grasped the base of the
intruding toy and slowly, ever so slowly started extracting it.  My anus
stretched and stretched, my face grimaced a bit at the discomfort from
having my bottom opened so terribly wide.

She held the widest part of the toy at my ring, allowing it to open even
wider.  Soon, there was no discomfort, but only a glow...warm and
consuming.

“What do you want Jennifer?” her tone now demanding, bordering on cruel.

“I want my dear Mother to take my final virginity,” I was panting in
anticipation for her unnatural invasion of the most private part on my
body.

“And where is that my darling wife to be?  What part of you is virgin,”
her sadistic games only heightened my desire to submit.

“My bottom Mother.”

With that, she fully withdrew the plug from my bum, “Where is virgin
dear?”

“My...my...my anus Mother,” I knew it was coming.  The most depraved
violation one could possibly imagine was coming, and I waited for it,
anxiously, willingly waited for it.

Constance pushed my body flat to the table, still demanding that I watch
what transpired in the mirror.  Her slick fingers tickled my gaping hole,
which pulsed at her touch.

“Do you trust me, my darling girl?”

“Yes, yes,” my mind racing as I watched my majestic goddess place one hand
on the small of my back and felt her fingers begin to enter me.

“Tell Mommy what you want baby,” she was forcing me to face my filthy
desires.  My lover was a complete master of my submission.

“I want you there.”

“What dear?” she taunted me, “what do you want Mother to do to you?”

“Fu...fu...fuck me in the ass Mother,” I had to know how far.  Had my
boundaries been reached?

Constance locked her eyes to mine as her slick hand entered me in one
long, slow, gentle push.  My anus opened to her.  I stretched for my
tender lover’s deflowering hand.  My moans were loud, drawn-out and
needful.

“Oh yes Mommy, fuck baby in the butt,” my mind lost in the intensity of
emotion as I gave my last cherry to my most precious, patient Mommy, “take
me Constance, please, please take me.”

“That’s the way darling girl, open for me, open for Mother,” her voice
calm and thoughtful.

My breathing was tightly restricted by my corset as Constance patiently
waited for me to huff and puff through any discomfort before my anus
relaxed and fully opened to her hand.  She started moving, imperceptibly
at first.  Just tiny little circles as her wrist stretched me wider and
wider.

After fifteen minutes or so, Constance was enthusiastically fist-fucking
my ass.  The feelings inside me were totally unique, so unlike any sex I’d
ever experienced.  The penetration was more intense, every nerve surround
my anus was glowing, as a climax built within me.

“Its ok darling, let go, let it all go,” Mother whispered to me as she
lightly kissed my back and neck, “let your bottom go completely.”

“Oh Mommy yes...let go, let go, let go,” I chanted out loud, willing my
body to respond.

Constance reached around the front of my dress and pressed the smooth
fabric into my wet cunt.  She rubbed my excited clitoris through the slick
fabric...around, and around in ever tightening circles.

My orgasm started inside; deep, deep inside my rectum.  My whimpering and
cooing changed to gasps of release, “Oh fuck...oh Mother
fuck...ohhhhhhh...ohhhhhhh.”

“Cum baby, cum for Mother,” Constance rejoiced in my pleasure, “cum for
Mother darling.”

I could count down the seconds until the dam burst and that glorious wave
surged over me, ‘five...four...three...two...’

“AAAaaaahhhhiiieeeeeeeeeeeee,” my first wail could probably be heard in
Dallas, “yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes...Aaaahhhhhhiiieeee...” the second
wave crashed over me.  And the third wave flooded through me, and the
fourth, and the fifth, “please, please, please, please, please,” not sure
if I was begging for more or for the orgasms to cease.

The sixth climax almost killed me, “Oh god it can’t be happening again,”
now I was begging for it to stop before I became a blathering idiot stuck
in a permanent state of orgasm.

Constance rode me gently to the floor as my knees collapsed beneath me and
my body melted away from the table.  She thankfully removed her talented
fingers from my clitoris, and held her hand completely still inside my
bottom.  I came down slowly, my body in the throws of aftershocks after so
many orgasms.

“Sh, sh, sh, sh,” Mother was stroking my hair, calming me, “I love you
Jennifer.  I love you darling girl.  I’ll love you forever.”

“Again,” I pled.  A huge grin of satisfaction across my face, my breathing
still ragged and panting, “When can we do it again?”

Constance took me twice more that night of our engagement, once in my cunt
and once more in my bottom.  I was so sore, that I couldn’t conceive
walking for the next month...but it was well worth it.  I was more
sexually satisfied in this one night with my majestic Mother than all
other encounters combined.  I was hers now.


----End Part 1 of Spoiled-----

And who says suburbia is a cultural wasteland.

suzy999999@yahoo.com
Copyright 2002 Anonymous, Arlington VA USA