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Subject: Title story: "Oral Gal - 2" Author: R. Bolla 44109322
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Date: Fri, 20 May 2005 17:15:44 +0000
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Oral Gal - 2
Finally, six o'clock came. Punctually on time, I stood at Richard's front door
and rang the bell. The door was opened immediatedly, and I saw Richard standing
in a long hallway, wearing an impecable Italian-cut suit. His shoes gleamed and
his tie was such luxurious silk, I could almost feel it with my eyes. The
expression on his face, though, wasn't happy.
"Come in," he said curtly, then stepped aside for me to comply. He motioned me
to enter a living room that was just off the hallway. I entered and stood in the
center of a beautiful room, as he closed the door, then turned to face me.
"You are almost two minutes late!" he growled at me, glowering. "Is this the way
you begin your service with me?"
I quickly showed him my watch and explained that I had actually gotten there
early, but he brushed aside my explanations.
"You should have thought to ask me what time it was by my watch when we made the
agreement to meet at six o'clock. That is the most basic agreement - one of time
- and one of the most important. If you can't keep that, how can I rely on you
to do anything right?"
I was devastated! I had been standing on the sidewalk, nervously trying not to
meet the eyes of the men who had been staring at my clothing, at the swell of my
breasts over the low-cut neckline of the dress. I had ignored the whistles, the
"Hey, Baby!"'s and the gestures. I had swallowed my embarassment - feeling
overdressed for the hour, on a summer evening, and uncomfortable to be just
standing and waiting. All of this I had put up with so I would make a good
impression on Richard - and now I was late!
"Perhaps we should forget this - or at least put it off for another day," he
said. I immediately cried out, saying I had so looked forward to this meeting,
and begging him not to put it off!
"I will be punctual in the future, I promise!", I said. "Please don't send
me away, now! I've gone to such pains to get things I thought you would
like, and...."
"And that is no more than I would expect you to do, Michelle! That is your job,
your part of this relationship. Mine is to evaluate how well you have done what
you were supposed to do, and to help you to explore frontiers you have not had
the courage to approach before. Alright - I'll let this one infraction pass. But
in the future, I will expect you to pay far more attention to details. Is that
understood?"
I nodded my head, my heart beating wildly in reaction to my momentary fear that
my fantasies would not be explored.
"Good. Now, empty out your bag on the table, there, so I can see what
you've brought."
I did as he asked, and was pleased when he complimented me on
following those orders properly, at least. He also complimented me on my
choice for the black shoes - and said he found them sexy, which thrilled me!
"Now, put everything back in the bag. I'm going to take you upstairs, now, and
show you a few of the other rooms of the house. By the way, remember that you
are to go only where you are told to, and only with me accompanying you (unless
I tell you differently) while you are here. Some of the rooms are off-limits to
you, so follow my instructions carefully. Understand?"
"Yes, I understand, Richard," I said, as I began to follow him out into the
hallway. He turned and looked at me, and said:
"That is something else we'd better get out of the way, now. From now on, unless
I tell you otherwise, you will address me as "Master". When you are spoken to,
you will immediately lower your eyes to the level of my crotch, where they will
remain until any conversation is finished. Is that understood, also?"
"Yes...master," I stammered. This had been something we had discussed in
principle, but no specific rule had been set until now.
"And, again unless I expressly give you permission, you will speak only when
spoken to. You will NEVER initiate a conversation, ask for a further explanation
of an order, or open your mouth unless you are spoken to first! Understand?"
"Yes, Master. I understand."
He led me up the staircase to the second floor. Toward the back of the building,
straight ahead from the staircase, was a door, which led to a very beautiful
bedroom. There was a queen-sized, white enameled, old-fashioned bed, with a
beautiful pink coverlet trimmed in white lace. A dressing table on the side wall
was covered in a matching pink cloth, on which were a hairbrush and mirror made
from tortise-shell. Next to the dressing table was a door that led into a
private bath. On the back wall were four large windows, now covered with drawn
shades, and on the left side wall was a door that seemed to lead to a closet.
"This will be your bedroom for the weekend, Michelle. You may put your bag on
the bed, for now, and follow me."
After putting down the bag, I followed him out to the second floor landing.
He led me up to the third floor. As I climed the steps, I marvelled at the
value of the home we were in! Richard was rich - no doubt about that! A three-
story brownstone here in the Village would sell, I was sure, for more than a
million dollars - although how much more, I had no idea. On the third floor,
directly over my room, was a bedroom clearly furnished for a man. It had two
deep arm chairs, a large, king-sized bed, and the colors were all burgandy,
brown and black. It was a "handsome" room, I thought - where mine had been
pretty and feminine. It seemed that Richard believed in some of the old-
fashioned sexual stereotypes - which was in keeping with some of the things
we had spoken about together.
Richard threw himself down on the bed, propped his head up on his right hand
and said, "Stand over there in the middle of the floor, where I can get a good
look at you."
I did as he asked, my hands down at my sides, my heart, strangely, beating
nervously. Perhaps it was the tone in his voice, which was almost flat, with
no emotion.
"Now raise your skirt and your pettycoat above your waist."
I was shocked - although I suppose I shouldn't have been. I guess I just
expected to work up to the sexual part of things - not just jump in with both
feet! I reached down and gathered the full satin skirt and its supporting
crinoline in both hands and raised them above my waist, as he had ordered. They
became a double armfull in front of my breasts, as I stood there feeling how
naked I was below the waist.
"Turn around, slowly, so I can see what you look like," he said.
I turned to my right, slowly, presenting more and more of my body to his eyes.
When my back was completely to him, I shivered, remembering how naked my ass was
with just the string of the pantie running up between my buttocks. When I had
made a complete revolution, he said:
"Now, pull off that foolish g-string. It doesn't cover you at all - it just
serves to give you a sense of being covered. It's only a psychological defense
against your nakedness."
How right he was! As I removed the g-string, I realized how much comfort I
had been deriving from that tiny scrap of cloth. Without it, I felt
completely naked!
He continued to scrutinize me - examining me carefully, but still from a
distance. I stood, still holding the g-string with my left hand as I struggled
to keep the skirt and crinoline held up with my arms.
"Those stockings fit you well. That's unusual for a woman your height
- they usually stop all too short, down near the knees, someplace. I want you to
remember to write down the brand name when you get back to your room. There is
a pen and writing paper in the dressing table drawer."
His statement didn't seem to require a response - but I was unsure whether to
answer "Yes, Master," or to stand there silently. I decided that he would know
that I had heard, and elected to remain silent.
"When I give you a command, like that, you will acknowledge it by answering
"Yes, Master". Is that understood?"
Wrong again! I felt stupid and embarassed as I answered, "Yes, Master."
"Come stand over here, in front of me," he commanded. I walked
nervously over to the bed, stopping right next to it, on a level with his head.
I could no longer see his face, because of the mass of pettycoat I was holding,
but knew he was looking directly at my pubic area. I began to blush, embarassed
at being so carefully studied.
"Give me the g-string," he said, and I clumsily passed it to him while holding
the mass of nylon in place in front of me.
"Your pussy has wet these panties. Did you know that?"
I blushed furiously. "No, M-m-master," I stuttered. I had been continuously
excited since my bath, over two hours ago. I wasn't surprised that the g-string
had absorbed some of the moisture, but I was very uncomfortable to have him
speak so matter- of-factly about it. The blush on my face flowed down into my
lower body, though, as I felt his fingers gently but firmly pressing the lips of
my pussy apart. My knees began to shake, and I must have been quivering like a
sapling all over, because he snapped:
"Come, now, stand up straight and stop shaking! I'm only examining you! This is
something that you'll come to find a common occurance when you're with me in
private - if I choose to have it be so. Am I hurting you or in any other way
being inconsiderate?"
Inconsiderate! How could he even use that term when he had his index and middle
fingers up inside my pussy? He treated what he was doing as commonplace, his
right - whereas I had had men in the past chasing me for weeks, praying for a
chance to do the same thing!
"No, Master, you're not hurting me," I responded, trying to control the shaking
in my legs (with very little success). I felt his fingers slowly retreat, and he
told me to turn around and bend over.
I turned my back to him and bent over slightly, frightened to allow myself to be
vulnerable in this way. He spanked me sharply, once, on my naked right buttock.
"Bend over, I said! Surely you've got more flexibility in that lovely body than
that? Now bend over so that I can see your ass clearly!"
I bent deeply from the waist, my forehead nearly touching my knees. As I
remained in that uncomfortable and embarassing position, I felt his hand gently
stroking my buttocks, then his fingers spreading them apart. Whether it was the
juice from my pussy, or some other lubricant, one of his fingers was wet and
slippery enough to slowly press its way into my asshole. I was now thoroughly
mortified! No one had ever treated me anywhere near like this in my life!
"Your ass is quite tight, Michelle. How many times have you been fucked
in there?"
"Never, Master! I have never done that!" I said, shocked at the idea. I had once
or twice had a man stick a finger in my ass, but had turned down everyone who
had suggested anal sex. I didn't like the idea - it sounded too painful.
"Do you put fingers or toys in there when you masturbate?" he asked,
punctuating the "in there" with a few rapid back-and-forth movements of his
finger in my anus.
"No, Master, I haven't," I answered truthfully. The feel of that one finger was
enough to make my legs start to shake again and my face felt that it was beet
red - but my pussy was beginning to ache with a deep sexual itch, and I could
tell that I was soaking wet down there!
He withdrew his finger and had me turn around to face him, again. I still had
the skirt and crinoline gathered in my arms, and I felt foolish as I turned to
face him. I peeked at his face, when I got the chance, and saw that it was quite
relaxed - not a smile, nor a sign that he was in any way excited! I was shocked!
How could what he had just done not have effected him? He looked as if a thought
had just struck him, and his eyes turned up toward my face. I hurriedly looked
toward his crotch, as I had been instructed to do.
"By the way, Michelle, your pussy hair is flattened down - probably from the g-
string and sitting down in the car on the way here. I like nice, bushy hair on a
pussy. Not lots of it - I prefer it to be neat, like yours - but bushy. On our
way back downstairs, I want you to go into your bathroom, where you'll find a
small hairbrush. Brush your pubic hair to make it bush out more for me. Do you
understand?"
"Yes, Master."
"And don't make the mistake of taking that opportunity to go to the bathroom.
Bathroom visits will be strictly monitored here. I will tell you when and where
you may relieve yourself. Don't worry, I won't forget about you - any more than
I forget about taking the dog for a walk!"
As he smiled at me, I felt that in a way that's what I was: just another pet to
him. I wasn't sure how I felt about all this. I had wanted to explore
submissiveness, but had expected it to turn the man on a lot. I still expected,
I guess, the kind of control that a woman frequently has simply from turning the
male on. For him to be calm and cool like this didn't jibe with my previous
experience. I couldn't predict, based on that experience, what he would do.
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