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Message-ID: <55342asstr$1171411802@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Sam Cornell" <cornell525@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Turning the Tables Part 3 (FF) by Sam Cornell
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Date: Tue, 13 Feb 2007 19:10:02 -0500
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Turning The Tables Part 3 (FF)

by Sam Cornell

Sitting in the hotel lobby, sipping at a glass of freshly squeezed orange 
juice, I am surprised to realize I am nervous. It is not the surroundings. 
The palm trees, the art deco styling, and the luxurious leather couches are 
familiar to me, not just at this hotel but from all those palaces around the 
world that for the last eighty or so years have effortlessly remained havens 
of sophistication and calm. And the service is as it should be - pleasant, 
respectful, but avoiding the rigid stiffness that you might expect in such a 
venerable location.

Indeed my waitress is a sweet French thing, tall, blonde, and in other 
circumstances I might consider starting the long languorous process of her 
possible seduction.

But not today. Today there is something else on my mind. Something that 
makes me unaccustomedly tense.

I am meeting Ellie here.

Don't get me wrong, I expect her to turn up. Our brief time together so far 
has been so delicious and intense that I am confident my young lover is 
hungry for more.

No, it is the extent to which Ellie will comply with my instructions that 
has me on edge. Partly, I wonder if my innocent little nineteen year old 
will be able to go through with it, or whether it will all seem too 
ridiculous. I wouldn't blame her.

Then, frankly, there is the reaction she will create as she walks in the 
room. I am not normally one to give a stuff about what other people think - 
just try me - but there is something about what Ellie and I are attempting 
that seems quite shockingly at odds with the very essence of the Palm Room.

But then again, I think of those photos from the `Twenties and `Thirties. 
The debs and the flappers in their short little frilly numbers. They were 
decadent times, weren't they, coke and cocktails and all that jazz? What 
might have happened in this very room? I close my eyes briefly and picture a 
couple of hot young things, high and wild and the moment takes them, they 
are off to a dark corner, hands groping under those teasing hemlines, mouths 
on roughly exposed titties, fingers slipping under silken underwear as they 
finger each other's pussies to a frantic orgasm.

And I realize that money and depravity have walked hand in hand since time 
immemorial, that they are, in fact, "tres sympathique", as my waitress might 
say. That businessman over there, does he get hot every time the waitress 
bends over, his cock stirring at the sight of her curves pressing against 
her simple black uniform? Has he carelessly left the keys to his Ferrari on 
the table, almost literally dangling the prospect of his wealth and power in 
front of her, in the hope that when her shift is over she will join him in 
his room, strip for him, and kneel naked on his bed as he mounts and fucks 
her whatever way he wants?

And the elegant lady over there, sipping iced water. So smartly dressed, so 
sophisticated. While her husband is away on yet another business trip, does 
she occupy her time with the hired hands, insatiable for the sensation of 
their rough young cocks filling her every hole?

I feel giddy, intoxicated; and then Ellie walks into the room.

All eyes are drawn to her. Of course they are. For while Ellie is nineteen 
and has worked fulltime as a respectable masseuse for the last couple of 
years, right now all five foot and a bit of her is standing in the gray 
uniform of one of this city's finest high schools.

She looks awfully nervous, scanning the room for me, her hands awkward by 
her sides, and I feel for her. No doubt she is aware of all of the 
attention. The businessman has forgotten the waitress, and every inch of him 
strains to possess this bewitching young thing, to ravage and plunder it. 
The elegant lady also stares openly, perhaps wondering what it would be like 
to enjoy the sensual pleasures of such sweet young innocence, to cup and 
nurse Ellie's full breasts.

But she is mine.

Ellie sees me and smiles, her relief evident. She walks towards me and now 
the eyes are on me. Am I her sister, or maybe, just possibly, her mother? I 
cut a pretty fine figure myself, and I know from long experience that when I 
am with my lovers in public we make an alluring and intriguing impression.

"Hello, Ellie. You look fabulous. Please sit down." It's true. Her chocolate 
brown hair is drawn back, as always, in a ponytail. In the past this has 
been for the practicalities of her work, but now, ahem, it accentuates her 
saucy innocence. She is wearing make-up, but subtly, in a way that would not 
draw censure from her teachers. The uniform she is wearing is the one that 
up until a couple of years ago she wore every day to school. As such it is 
quite sensibly cut, but anything that contains Ellie's petite but full body 
inevitably excites rather than disappoints. The skirt sits just at her knee, 
presumably where regulation stipulates. I once saw a French film called 
Claire's Knee ("Le Genou de Claire" in fact) which was all about a 
middle-aged man's obsession with a teenaged girl's knee. I look down at the 
finely sculpted bone and gently taut pale brown skin of Ellie's knee, and I 
feel like making a feature myself.

"Thank you, miss." When I first met Ellie, as her client, the "Miss" thing 
was a bit of a surprise. This is the twenty-first century after all, and I 
would expect to be called "Samantha" by a masseuse. So it jarred a little, 
and I couldn't quite figure it out. Now I believe that, from our very first 
meeting, Ellie was offering me the gentlest little coded offering of her 
submission.

"What would you like?"

"I've always dreamed of afternoon tea here, Miss. It just seemed, oh, the 
most wonderful luxurious thing. Would that be all right?"

"Of course it is." As she takes our order I see that even our waitress is 
intrigued by Ellie. An image of the three of us together, locked in the most 
wonderful tangle, Ellie and Frenchie perhaps in a clawing 69, floods briefly 
through me, but I put it to one side. Today is about Ellie and me.

So we sit and chat about nothing and we take our tea and gradually the 
interest around us dies down, although I am intrigued to see that it is the 
elegant lady and not the businessman who can't help but keep looking in our 
direction. Is it just me or are her nipples poking a little at that smart 
white Collezione blouse?

Then the tea is finished and the last crumb eaten. Ellie sits, a little 
expectant, a little nervous. Does she think that I have reserved us a room, 
that just upstairs awaits a whole new world of sensual depravity?

"Now," I say, standing briskly up, "it's time to go shopping."

***

In the department store we have, again, made a stir. Everyone wants to help. 
I am careful to ensure "our" assistant is a pretty Canadian called Amy.

I have decided that I am buying Ellie a new "outfit". This will give her 
plenty of opportunity for dressing and undressing, with my intimate help of 
course. We are in a changing room, with just enough space for me to fuss 
around my charge.

"Why don't you try this on first?" I say, offering Ellie a skirt. Something 
about her bare from the waist down appeals, and today is about satisfying my 
whims.

Ellie slips off her school skirt. She isn't wearing pantyhose or stockings, 
and so she is revealed in a simple but elegant pair of plain white cotton 
panties.

"They're like I used to wear at school, Miss," she whispers, clearly 
concerned about the possibility of being overheard by Amy. "I hope they're 
alright."

Ellie's legs are slim and pale tan, and there is a lovely contrast with the 
whiteness of her underwear. "Yes. You look fabulous. Let me help you with 
that skirt."

She steps in and we lift it up together, my hands brushing all the way up 
her legs, behind her knees, then over the soft material of Ellie's panties. 
As she zips it up I brush the material across the soft globes of Ellie's 
ass, carelessly intimate.

"That's nice," I say. "Let's try another."

When the new skirt is in place I make a comment about the lining. I kneel in 
front of Ellie and lift the hem up, my face now just a few inches from the 
crotch of her panties. Ellie stands quite still, fully aware that this is by 
no means all about new clothes.

"Is everything okay?" calls Amy from outside the door, and Ellie jumps.

"Oh yes," I say, bringing my mouth forward to brush my lips across Ellie's 
panties, feeling the spring of her pubic thatch under the thin material. 
"We're fine." I slide my fingers up the back of Ellie's thigh and under her 
panties, moving lightly across the soft flesh of her bum. Then, just as 
suddenly, I move away and stand up. "Now, those tops."

Ellie's skirt remains bunched around her waist - a terribly thing to do to 
an expensive piece of couture, but what can you do? - as she slips of her 
uniform jacket and unbuttons her white school blouse. Her bra matches her 
panties in its simplicity, but the sight of the roundness of her beautiful 
boobs is enough to transform the most practical of item. I look Ellie in the 
eye and without a word she knows that right now I think her the most 
beautiful thing alive.

Ellie slips on a top, and once more I am all attentive, teasing the bottom 
hem into place while the fingers of my other hand stroke underneath the edge 
of her panties. Ellie whimpers a little. Good.

"Not your best color," I murmur, and the top is lifted off. I stand quickly, 
and as my fingers still search around the edges of Ellie's crotch, my other 
hand strokes across her bra, feeling the softness of her beautiful breasts. 
Ellie's nipples are already hard and stiff; being fondled like this in such 
a public place is clearly a highly effective warm up.

I decide that for the moment trying on clothes will have to wait. I move 
alongside Ellie, and slip one hand down the front of her panties, the other 
down the back. She stands quite still, clearly nervous at being treated like 
this in a department store changing room, but at the same time willing to 
submit to my attention. Willing and excited.

I brush Ellie's pubic hair while my other hand rubs and presses her ass 
cheeks. I move both hands around, roaming freely over my lover's most 
private areas. I set up a gentle rhythm and Ellie responds with a gentle 
motion, almost unconsciously inviting me to explore more intimately, drawing 
me ever deeper.

I nuzzle at Ellie's shoulder as I feel her. Finally my fingers slip 
naturally into Ellie's slit, she is wet and soft and oozing for me. I slide 
my fingers up and down teasing all along her lips. Her breathing gets 
shorter and more urgent.

"Is everything okay?" Amy calls from outside. Instinctively Ellie ducks, and 
I follow her, just managing to keep my pawing hands in place.

"We're fine, thanks," I say, my voice betraying only the slightest waver. 
Both Ellie and I are now squatting down, with both my hands busy inside her 
panties. "You need anything, Ellie?" I ask, the temptation to go a little 
too far proving too much.

Ellie struggles for breath. She is close to cumming, I know. At the front 
she can feel me fingers probing at the entrance to her pussy, whilst at the 
back my fingers are tracing a firm route up and down her ass crack, not 
penetrating all the way down but undoubtedly rudely intrusive. No wonder it 
is difficult to speak.

"I'm fine thanks," she croaks eventually. Her face is bright red, not just 
from my gentle fingering but also from embarrassment.

Amy sounds a little uncertain about what's going on. "Well, if you need any 
help just let me know." I would love for her to help by coming in right now 
and offering her tight little titties for Ellie to chew on as she cums, or 
maybe turn around and give me her ass to eat, but I don't make the offer.

I haven't for a second stopped working at Ellie's body, and as Amy walks 
away I can feel she is once again close to cumming.

There are, of course, mirrors in the changing room, and as I look to one 
side I can see what a delicious tableau Ellie and I make. We are still 
crouched down, and although I am fully dressed my face is flushed with my 
excitement. Ellie still has on her underwear, and the skirt is still ruined 
around her waist. What captivates me is the way the Z-ish shape of her 
posture shows off every curve of her firm young body to perfection, the 
roundness of her bum and tits in her simple white underwear.

Ellie sees where I am looking and looks at herself at the mirror. Her eyes 
seem drawn to the way she is letting me feel both her pussy and ass under 
her panties. It looks so sordid, and yet I can see it is precisely the image 
she needs. Silently, almost desperately, I feel her tense, her breathing 
become almost choked, and then she rocks violently in the most anguished but 
fabulous orgasm. When she has finished she collapses weakly into my arms. 
The air in the changing room is heavy with the musk of our sex.

"I think we'll be taking all of these," I call out to Amy, my voice a little 
uncertain. I look down at the skirt. "Including the skirt."

***

I sit in a chair in my hotel suite. Ellie stands a few feet in front of me, 
her hands by her side. She is still wearing her high school uniform. She 
looks nervous, as well she might. The time for teasing is over.

"Ellie, are you wearing regulation school underwear?"

"Yes, miss." Ellie blushes. She left school ages ago, and of course there 
was never any question of regulation underwear even then. It is 
embarrassing, acting out this game.

"Well there's only one way to find out. Please lift your skirt."

Again Ellie looks embarrassed, foolish, but she dutifully reaches down and 
lifts her skirt to her waist.

"Come closer, girl. I can't see anything from here."

Ellie walks towards me, the hem of her skirt still in her hands, until she 
is right in front of me.

"Those aren't school panties, Ellie." It's true. The ones she was wearing in 
the department store were utterly soaked through, so Ellie had left the 
changing room pantieless and I had added a matching set of white CK panties 
and bra to our purchases. As usual with Mr Klein's underwear they are simple 
but sexy.

"No, miss." Ellie looks demurely down, apparently ashamed at this 
transgression.

I lean forward, my face now only an inch or so from the Ellie's crotch. 
"Ellie, are these new panties wet? Are you getting them all wet?" It's true, 
there is a little spot of moisture where Ellie's juices have seeped into the 
material.

Ellie blushes a still deeper shade of red at the revelation that our little 
charade has turned her on so much and so quickly. But for the moment she 
says nothing.

"You're turned on, aren't you? I can see your nipples are sticking out too. 
You're turned on by flashing your panties at me, aren't you?" Ellie nods her 
head slowly. "I had no idea I was dealing with such a hot little slut. 
There's only one thing to be done with you. Get over my knee now young 
lady."

Ellie looks at me briefly, an expression of genuine surprise on her face. 
But she makes no move, clearly unsure whether to obey.

"Get over my knee!"

"Yes, miss." She pads round to my right and folds herself lightly over me 
knee.

"Pull up your skirt again."

"Yes, miss. Sorry miss." Ellie's bottom would look gorgeous in any 
circumstance, but clad in simple white panties and pulled taut across my 
knee, it is a pure erotic vision.

"To make sure you understand you are being punished, Ellie, after every 
stroke I want you to thank me. Do you understand?"

"Yes, miss."

I lift my hand and bring it down on Ellie's bottom. It is a feeble stroke, 
really, but still Ellie starts at the contact. She is perhaps uncertain how 
it will feel, but I want to spank my young lover for the sensation of 
controlling her ass, not of causing her pain. She will feel my paddling in 
her brain more than in her butt cheeks.

"Thank you, miss."

The next smack is both better placed and firmer, and there is a satisfying 
clap as I make contact.

"Thank you, miss."

I bring down my smacks regularly, leaving a long enough gap for Ellie to 
thank me and to anticipate the next blow. So far as is possible, I bring my 
palm down all over Ellie's sweet bottom.

After perhaps a minute I pause. "Does your bottom sting, Ellie?"

She nods her head. "Yes, miss."

"Well we don't want your lovely soft flesh marked, do we? Pass me that oil." 
Ellie reaches to the floor and hands up a bottle of massage oil.

I take a deep breath. There are some moments which you know will simply make 
you ache with their beauty. Purely as a result of my own erotic decisions I 
have not yet had time to enjoy the vision of Ellie's body aid bare, and now, 
whenever I want, and at my command, she will pull down her panties and show 
me her poor spanked little ass. I say nothing for some seconds, my pussy 
flooding with the knowledge of what I can do.

"Pull down your panties for me, Ellie." I can barely speak.

"Yes, miss." Ellie reaches behind and, slipping her thumbs under the 
waistband of her panties, pulls her panties down to her knees. For her the 
act is simple, uncomplicated, if humiliating, and she can have little idea 
how dizzy I feel to have her ass offered to me like this.

Ellie's creamy cheeks are perhaps just a little pink from my gentle 
spanking, certainly no real need for my ministrations, but that isn't the 
point, is it? I drip a little oil into my hand and, as my palm gently 
touches her ass cheek she starts yet again. It seems my submissive young 
lover is nervous about my intentions towards her ass, and how right she is...

As I rub Ellie's bottom I talk to her softly. "Does that feel good, Ellie? 
Soothing?"

"Yes, miss. Thank you, miss."

"I didn't spank you too hard, did I?" My fingers gently knead her ass.

"No, miss. It felt...good."

I slip a finger down to Ellie's sex and draw it lightly along her slit. My 
little slut is soaking.

"Oh, Ellie, my spanking made you wet, didn't it?" Now one oily hand squeezes 
Ellie's sore bum cheeks while the other teases around her pussy.

"Yes, miss."

"Did it make you horny, poking your bum in the air and feeling me spank your 
ass?"

"Oh, yes, miss." As in the department store, the hand that is fondling 
Ellie's ass is drawn irresistibly to her ass crack, circling but always 
returning to that secret and forbidden crevice. Yet still I resist the 
temptation to explore down, between.

"Tell me how it felt, Ellie."

"It felt sooo good, Miss."

"What did?" Now my fingers are running repeatedly up and down Ellie's ass 
crack. It takes all my will to stay there.

"Being spanked, miss. It felt good, you spanking my bum like that."

"Of course it did. Do you like me playing games with your bottom, Ellie?"

"Yes, miss. Very much."

I press my fingers down, so far that I am almost at the floor of the valley 
of her ass crack, almost touching her most private hole.

"Do you think you would like to cum, Ellie, while I play naughty games with 
your bottom?" My fingers pass oh so briefly across the firm little crater of 
Ellie's asshole.

Ellie whispers. "Yesss..."

***

Ellie lies naked on the bed, face down. Both arms are underneath her body 
and her hands are busy between her legs, her lovely creamy bottom going up 
and down rhythmically.

I stand at the foot of the bed, gazing down the length of my young lover's 
body. Yet again it is an exquisite tableau.

"Are you ready, Ellie?"

Her hands almost stop their urgent rubbing, but her arousal is so great that 
she is unable to resist a little surreptitious diddling.

"Yes, miss."

"Ask me."

"Please, miss, please...please make love to my bum."

I kneel between Ellie's legs. Normally when I am exploring a lover's ass for 
the first time I like it to feel as extreme for them as possible, and a part 
of that is to get them to reveal themselves to me. But with Ellie things 
feel different, and I want her to experience the slow revelation that I did 
when my first female lover and I, who were both about nineteen at the time, 
discovered how exciting it was to love each other's asses.

I can remember now as if it was yesterday, how my rather prudish lover was 
laid out in front of me just as Ellie is now. I had kissed her back, and her 
spine and her ass cheeks, but my tongue had been drawn to her crack and I 
had run it along it, pushing down, even pulling her ass cheeks apart and 
running it along the bottom, but too afraid to actually touch it against her 
anus. I'd asked how she felt and she told me it was so exciting having my 
tongue near where she wanted but not actually there. I was intoxicated with 
what I'd nearly done but even then I couldn't believe she was saying she'd 
wanted me to kiss her asshole. Perhaps she meant her pussy?

Then she asked what I'd like. The same, of course! So I lay on my front and 
she'd kissed and licked me just like I had her, and then she was pulling my 
bottom open and she was exploring between my cheeks with her tongue. She 
teased all around, I couldn't believe for a second she would do it, not 
someone who had to be cajoled every step of our relationship and who still 
felt frightful Catholic guilt just about being with me and then, sweet 
Jesus, my prude was tonguing my asshole. She hadn't been able to resist, 
she'd felt the need as I was licking her and at the point where I had backed 
off she licked and then kissed my tight dark hole.

So now it is with Ellie - na�ve, submissive Ellie - that I bend forward and 
begin to lick across her back and down the length of her spine, feeling the 
little ridges so close to the skin. Then down, down, kissing her bottom, 
simple little smackers on each pure white cheek. Next I kiss the small of 
Ellie's back, always for me the waiting area for what lies below. From there 
it is easy to flick my tongue down, around the gentle little vee of flesh 
that marks the top of her ass crack.

I run my tongue down the top of Ellie's ass crack, up, down, all the time 
the pressure gently increasing so that she knows I am heading deeper. At the 
same time my hands lightly pry her cheeks apart, allowing me better access. 
All the time I can feel that Ellie's hands are busy, satisfying the urgent 
needs of her cunt.

The descent is gradual but eventually I am pulling Ellie's bottom apart. My 
tongue runs along the base of her crack, pulls up and around her anus, then 
back up again, a merry dance, a terrible tease and I can feel the tension as 
every inch of the young body beneath me craves that final sordid contact.

I am able to release one hand to minister to my own needs, and my pussy is 
soaking wet to the touch. I feel we are both ready now for the final act, 
the summation of everything we have both wanted so far.

It is almost a dream as my tongue heads south once again; Ellie seems to 
recognise that this time it will happen and her frigging slows in 
anticipation.

Down, down, and then I feel the change in texture as my tongue runs over the 
rim of Ellie's sweet virgin asshole and I hear her give the softest of 
sighs. Once the barrier is crossed I cannot hold back, my tongue is pressed 
firm against her ring, pressing, licking, searching, kissing.

Ellie is frigging again too, confident now that a delicious orgasm awaits as 
her mistress pleasures her rear end. I am gentle on my own pussy, my tongue 
savoring every nook and crevice of Ellie's anus.

What is she thinking, my young lover, as she feels her orgasm begin to 
build? How quickly and wonderfully the world can change, perhaps. How often 
had she dreamed of offering herself, completely and utterly, to another 
woman? Had she even dared to imagine how exquisite it might feel to have 
every inch of her body laid bare, exposed, inspected, fingered, and licked? 
Had her imagination even come within a mile of this, lying face down in a 
hotel room while another woman expertly rims her rear end? Have I, as I 
hope, surpassed her darkest fantasies as she surrenders to the sordid, 
intimate probings of my tongue?

Perhaps, because as my tongue continues to push and press at Ellie's bum she 
begins to shake and whimper - possessed, uncontrolled, overwhelmed by 
perverted lust. And this is enough for me, too, the sensation of my lover's 
wicked orgasm combined with the texture of her asshole on my tongue, and I 
am cumming and Ellie is cumming and we are locked by this one point of 
contact - my mouth, her anus - as we rock and shudder with the intimacy of 
our orgasm.

It is a long time before either of us speak, and it is Ellie who looks 
around at me with a dreamy satisfied smile that has nevertheless a hint of 
hunger.

"Thank you, miss."

"Thank you for letting me."

"That was beautiful, miss, incredible. I've never felt anything like it."

"No."

"I was wondering, miss, that felt so naughty, and yet I loved it."

"Yes?"

"Well, are there other...naughty things that you want to do to me?"

"Would you like me to?"

"Oh yes. I think I'd like you to do anything you want to me."

***

If you like this, please mail me at cornell525@hotmail.com

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