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From: Don Winslow <dwin2001@yahoo.com>
X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Fri, 23 Aug 2002 08:05:10 -0700 (PDT)
Subject: {ASSM} The Odd couple in Room 210 {Don Winslow} (part 2) (D/s, f/F, sexual humil., foot fetish)
Date: Fri, 23 Aug 2002 18:10:04 -0400
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<1st attachment, "Margo 2.txt" begin>
The Odd Couple in Room 210 (f/F, sexual humil., foot fetish)
By Don Winslow
Part 2 of 2
The sprightly girl with the bouncy ponytail looked around nervously
before slipping into the service entrance to scurry, two steps at a
time, up the metal stairs to the second floor. By using the back
stairs, Petra hoped to avoid any other staff members who might wonder
what she was doing there -- in uniform, while clearly off duty. That
she wear her work clothes was something he insisted on: her waitresses'
uniform, the light-weight linen dress in Dreamchaser's colors -- royal
blue, trimmed with pink. He had told her exactly what she was to wear:
the uniform dress, but no stockings or pantyhose -- he made that clear.
Just her uniform, and a pair of open, high heeled sandals.
She caught a glimpse of herself in the hallway mirror as she emerged on
the second floor: a sprightly girl with straight, caramel-colored hair
drawn smoothly back to fall in that perky pony tail of hers. Her heart
was racing as she paused, took a deep breath, fluffed up her bangs,
made one final check of her uniform. Her nervous hands checked the row
of small plastic buttons down the front, the flat, open collar. They
passed lightly down her modest bosom, smoothening the tapering fit at
her trim waist before straightening the loose skirt that fell down bare
legs.
Gathering up her courage, she knocked softly at the door of room 210.
The door opened a crack; Nick was looking out at her. He smiled that
smug, self-pleased grin of his. The opening door revealed him to be
barefoot, and wearing nothing but a pair of pants, the fine silky
trousers from one of his dark suits. The nervous girl tried not to
stare as her eyes quickly took in his handsome physique, the bulky
shoulders, thick chest and tight-muscled belly. The guy obviously kept
himself in shape! The heavy chain he wore around his neck was embedded
in curly black fleece that thickened at the center of his chest and
dribbled straight down his front in a wispy trail pointing towards his
navel, and beyond. The belted pants rode low on his hips.
Under the full-length windows with their superb ocean view, she saw
Margo squatted on a footstool placed before a large red chair. The
blonde was still wearing the sundress she had on at breakfast, and she
sat huddled over, arms wrapped around her steepled knees, white pumps
set side by side on the thick carpet, skirt draped down over her white-
stockinged, tightly closed legs. The pale face she turned towards their
guest was tense, the big brown eyes anxious, although she did manage a
brittle smile.
'Like a doe caught in the headlights,' Petra thought, and she wavered
in the doorway. But Nick caught her hesitancy, and took the girl by
the elbow and swept her along, ushering her into the room. Nick led a
suddenly reluctant Petra over to the red chair; Margo stood up to move
out of the way.
The two women stood eyeing one another like two wary wrestlers, Margo
the taller of the two, the one with the decidedly more mature and
feminine figure was having her usual poise tested as she struggled with
an acute sense of embarrassment, nervously biting her lower lip.
Petra, smaller, more slightly built: a party girl, who wasn't at all
sure just what she had gotten herself into, still thought of heading
for the door. Both women were aware of the simmering sexuality, the
presence of the bare-chested man, the undercurrent of lesbianism, the
awkwardness of the situation they found themselves in, the scary
uncertainty of it all. Margo welcomed the girl like a hostess greeting
a guest at a cocktail party, although her voice was strained, and she
had a hard time meeting Petra's eyes. The two women actually shook
hands; Petra being struck by the absurdity of the situation! The
tension in the room was so strong you could cut it with a knife. But if
the women were clearly flustered and uncomfortable, Nick was his usual
smooth self: a self-assured, cocky male; sly, reckless and looking for
fun.
Petra took the big armchair, while the blonde was sent off to get them
drinks, with a playful slap on the skirted rearend.
**** **** ****
Once drinks had been served, the blonde stationed herself before
Petra's chair to wait docilely with hands at her sides, downcast eyes
studying the pointed tips of her white pumps. Nick sitting across the
room, a gin and tonic by his side, seemed totally unconcerned about the
tension between the women. Petra watched him take out a cigar and take
his time lighting it, studying the glowing tip, before settling back
into the cradling curve of his easy chair.
"Come on girls, time we got started. Pet, you're first. Take your
shoes off. No wait!" he hastily added.
"On second thought: the slut'll do it for you. Just tell her."
"What?"
"Tell her to take your shoes off. Go on. She'll do it." he said, with
a mildly impatient wave of his cigar.
"I...I couldn't. I don't think I should..."
"Sure you can! Go on, just tell her to take your shoes off for you,"
he said with elaborate slowness, as if explaining things to slow-
witted child. " I told you before: the slut'll do whatever you tell
her to. Now, tell her!"
Petra turned to the attractive blonde in the creamy sundress, took a
deep breath, and tried the mandated words.
"Take off my shoes." The words addressed to the lowered blond head,
came out in a barely-audible, hushed whisper.
Petra held her breath and waited, every fiber keyed up with burgeoning
anticipation. She saw the older woman swallow her own rise of
excitement, reach down to gather up two handfuls of skirt and raise the
hem out of the way so that once down on her knees, she was kneeling
directly on the carpeted floor before the young waitress.
Margo bent over to unbuckle the strap of the left sandal, lifted the
foot, removed the delicate sandal with its high heel - a thick wedge of
cork. She then proceeded to remove its mate.
"Yeah, that's good. Now, make her kiss your feet."
"Oh! No, I couldn't do that!"
"Go on. Give her your foot. Make her kiss it. She'll do it, I tell
you. She really digs it, but the thing is you have to make her do it.
Like I told you, she's kinda shy." He laughed at this little joke of
his.
Petra looked down on the bowed head of the woman who knelt as her feet.
Suddenly, a thrill of wild elation shot through her, hard on its heels
-- a tremendous rush of power shook her, leaving the girl breathless,
tingling with excitement.
Boldly she thrust a foot at the face of the submissive blonde.
"Kiss it!" she hissed, in a clear voice, that was suddenly confident
and a harder edge than she intended.
Margo sat back on her heels as she took the proffered foot in both
hands. Bending down over it, she obediently brought her lips to kiss
the top of the foot and then pay homage to young Petra's toes. The
foot being offered to her was narrow and delicate; long toes curled in
the sheerest of pleasure at the first touch of that wet, darting
tongue.
Petra sighed in bliss when she felt warm, soft lips engulf her big toe
and begin to gently suck. She was elated to look down on this
beautiful older woman whose head was bobbing gently as her lips and
tongue paid their slavishly tribute to the girl's stiffened toes. Petra
squirmed back in her seat, her hips arching up in instinctive response
to the creamy rise of pleasure. The blonde head moved with mechanical
persistence, mindlessly making its way from one toe to the next, till
the thrills became unbearable.
"Nooooo," the quivering girl moaned, gently pushing the head away,
forcing her groveling slave to give up the extended foot.
Margo shifted back to settle onto her tucked-in heels, there to kneel
with head hung low, huddled shoulders heaving; the girl's bare foot
cradled in the lap of her thin dress. She was flushed; obviously
aroused.
After a moment she picked up Petra's foot in both hands and brought it
to her bosom. Placing the sole overtop of her left breast, she leaned
forward, pressing her breast against the bottom of the girl's foot.
Petra smiled, inanely pleased. She pressed her pointed toes back into
the pillow of the other woman's covered breast. Wiggling toes dug into
the pliant, yielding tittie-flesh, playing with the wobbly mound.
Then, with her sole placed squarely over the gently mounded tit she
pressed ...hard, squashing the warm softness she found there under the
smooth thin cloth, sending the kneeling woman rocking back on her
heels. Margo arched back and moaned, a low shivering moan. Petra
grinned and withdrew her foot.
Nick had largely been forgotten by the two women, engrossed as they
were in the single-minded pursuit of pleasure. When Petra remembered
that he was watching, she looked up to find him sitting there with his
fly open and his prick sticking out in an obscene erection! One hand
was on his cock. He held his stiffened manhood loosely in curled
fingers, and his hand was pumping slowly, languidly as he kept his eyes
on the girlie action. He just kept fingering his exposed penis when
his eyes met Petra's, and he gave the girl a big, shit-eatin' grin.
"See Baby, that was nice wasn't it? I could tell you really dug it.
Yeah, you could really get off on having another chick to order around,
making her do you wherever you want. Want some more? Why don't you get
her to take her clothes off?"
Petra, still recovering from the repeated thrills the foot worshiping
had subjected her to, basked in a warm afterglow and felt a surprising
surge of confidence. Her initial hesitancy had melted away; she felt
bolder, stronger, more ready to take command. She looked down at the
kneeling blonde.
"Take your clothes off," she said. A simple declarative sentence.
"No, not like that!" His impatience was growing. "Say it like you
mean it! Go on, order her around. Make the bitch strip."
Petra took a deep breath and tried again, this time more forcefully:
"Get up! Take your clothes off...all of them! Now!"
She watched in awe as her elegant slave drew herself up, and rose
obediently to her feet, to stand before her young mistress.
"Hurry up, Slut! Strip! I want you bare-assed naked. Now!"
"Yeah, Baby!" Nick crowed, overjoyed.
Petra looked at the man with the naked cock, who flashed her that evil
grin of his, and then gave her a huge, conspiratorial wink.
End of Part 2
The End
2002 Copyright, Don Winslow
Comments: dwin2001@yahoo.com. More of Don Winslow's erotic fiction
may be found at: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/Files/Authors/Don_Winslow
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