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   Date: Sat, 10 May 1997 14:36:35 +0200

   From: Michael Suelmann <suelmann@forwiss.uni-passau.de>

   Subject: 231

   To: Ole.Joe@poboxes.com

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   MRWADE.231 By Master Wade

   The Training of Melissa

   Chapter Two

   Over the next several days Don spent his spare time going over

   the slave contract that he had written almost four years ago,

   revising it, when necessary, to fit it to his relationship with

   Melissa.  It was an exciting document, at least for Don, since it

   basically covered every sexual fantasy he'd ever had, and held the

   promise of making all those fantasies come true.  He'd written it

   initially while involved with a girl just barely old enough to

   vote, and while she had been an amazing fuck, she wasn't

   emotionally prepared to be the kind of sex slave that Melissa could

   be for him.  Amazing the difference a few years could make.

   Don found Melissa to be incredibly exciting sexually.  His

   desire for her was so strong that even though he was usually able

   to have her several times a week, he never failed to masturbate

   daily while thinking of her.  The fantasies he imagined while

   masturbating were working their way into the contract now, and it

   was a wonderfully selfish and powerful feeling to be able to

   include them, with the expectation that they would be fulfilled.

   Just list all the candy you want and give it to the nice man at the

   counter.  Bingo.

   Don was well aware that many slave contracts were relatively

   simple affairs which used all-encompassing language to provide

   openings for whatever choices the Master might care to make at the

   time.  But he much preferred being specific, not only to avoid

   misunderstandings in the future, but also because he wanted

   Melissa's fantasies to be working on the same things that his did.

   Plant the seeds in her mind, and let them work their way to the

   surface, so to speak.  Just to be on the safe side, Don had

   included some sexual activities which he most likely would never

   require of Melissa, even if he could.  He wanted her to understand

   that the decision was ultimately his, and for her trust to be in

   him, not in some document.

   Don already knew that Melissa's acceptance of the terms of the

   contract would mean her moving in with him, and he looked forward

   to that.  There was no way to fully enjoy the new relationship

   without the ability to have more constant access to her than he did

   now.  His home could use the touch of a woman anyway, and while he

   had not proposed marriage, Don knew he most probably would,

   eventually.  But for now, as ugly as it sounded on the surface, all

   he wanted was to possess her sexually, mind and body.  What made it

   perfectly acceptable was the fact that it was what she wanted as

   well.

   Melissa soaked in the hot water, her nipples half-covered at

   the water line, her legs apart.  She loved having her legs apart,

   especially when she was naked.  It was the outward manifestation of

   a "fuck me" attitude which Melissa felt often, even at times when

   she couldn't open her legs, much less be naked.  It wasn't proper

   for a young lady to have an attitude like that, and it certainly

   wasn't anything which Melissa went around confessing to anyone, but

   she loved having it.  She loved the honesty of it and the way it

   made her feel to confess it to herself.  Not even Don knew the

   extent of it, or what it meant to her, or how it affected her daily

   life, but he'd learn all about it soon enough.  Especially now that

   they were actually going to do this Master/slave thing.

   Melissa took the bar of soap and rubbed it lengthwise in her

   slit, feeling the slick bar slide against her swollen labia.  She

   lifted the hood covering her little clitoris and scraped a

   fingernail against it, feeling a shudder go through her body and a

   renewed tingling in her nipples, which grew harder and longer as

   she looked down at them.

   Melissa loved the luxury of bathing and of being alone with

   her body, but it was a shame, in a way, that there was no one there

   to see her.  No one to watch.  It's better if you open your legs

   and someone can see, she thought to herself.  She'd often felt the

   eyes of men on her crotch when she had absent-mindedly allowed her

   jeans-covered legs to open a bit too much.  Or, even more so, when

   she had been wearing short-shorts.  Maybe that's when the "fuck me"

   attitude had begun, she couldn't be sure.  She only knew that she

   often thought those very words when someone was looking at her in

   that way.  Fuck me...go ahead and fuck me.  You'd be surprised how

   easy it could be.  Or how good.  You think you want to get inside

   these pants?  If you only knew how much I want you inside them.  If

   I didn't want it would I sit here like this and keep my legs apart,

   knowing that your eyes are glued to my crotch?  Knowing that you're

   staring straight at my little pussy?  And you could fuck my mouth

   too...I think I'd love that.  Maybe even my ass, but you'd have to

   be good to get my ass.  I bet you could really make me moan,

   couldn't you?  Yeah, I bet.

   Melissa didn't keep her legs apart for everyone who looked,

   of course.  But there were times when she liked to do it, as long

   as it wasn't too blatant or obvious.  You had to do it just right

   for it to work like it should.  And tits?  God, how men were such

   suckers for tits, so to speak.  Leave the bra at home, pick the

   right blouse with the right material, let the sweater drop back a

   bit or maybe bend over at just the right time...it was so easy.

   They tried to pretend they weren't looking, some of them, but she

   knew better.  And she knew that they could never be sure just how

   intentional it was on her part.  It was a dance, maintaining an air

   of purity and aloofness while at the same time coming across as

   incredibly sexy and available.  Melissa was good at it, and she

   loved doing it.  It drove them crazy; she could see it in their

   eyes.

   But she had seen something quite different in Don's eyes,

   something which both confused and excited her.  She had given him

   the full treatment, the leg show, the beaver shot, the tit peek,

   the poking hard nipples, the ass sway, all of it.  He had noticed,

   for sure, and while she could tell that he liked what he saw, his

   eyes told her that he knew the game even better than she did, and

   that he knew much, much more than that.  She was immediately filled

   with the feeling that he knew her at a much deeper level than she

   was truly comfortable with.  It was as if he blasted away the

   facade that was so crucial to her little dance, as if he had some

   private knowledge of her which the others lacked.  It shook her,

   but she also found it entirely compelling.

   Now that she had read the things that Don had given her, she

   understood what had made the difference.  Don wasn't like the

   others, and he knew what made her different from other women.  He

   had an instinctive feel and understanding for what made her tick,

   and not only did he understand her, he liked her, just like she

   was.

   Melissa glanced at the clock on the bathroom counter.  He was

   probably working on it at this very moment.  The contract.  The

   idea of it made her shudder again, and she rubbed her clitoris with

   little circular movements of her finger.  The entire concept was

   unthinkably erotic.  Imagine...giving your body and mind to another

   person and allowing them to control you sexually.  It meant letting

   them do anything they wanted with you.  Anything.  ANYthing!  But

   it was more than that, too.  It meant doing whatever they asked, as

   well.  In some ways that was even more frightening, and perhaps,

   she admitted, reluctantly, even more exciting.  There were only so

   many ways that a girl could be fucked, but there was a multitude of

   things that could be required of her.  An almost unlimited

   assortment of things, the limit bounded by the imagination of the

   one in control.  And Don was a man with one hell of an imagination.

   Melissa heard the little voice in her ear.  The voice that was

   born in her clitoris and in her nipples, and sometimes even in her

   sphincter muscle.  The little voice that cut through all the

   bullshit and went straight to the point.  You want it all, don't

   you, Melissa, the voice said.  You want it to be so powerful and

   erotic and life-changing and incredibly hot and passionate and

   intense that you will never be the same, don't you?  You want it

   more than you want anything else in life, and you're actually

   going to do it...give him what he wants...turn it all over to him.

   The water began rolling, waves splashing along the sides of

   the tub, as Melissa worked her hole, her eyes closed tightly, one

   hand fingering, the other hand rubbing clit, tits floating

   obscenely, the long stiff nipples poking out, a hot young woman

   overwhelmed by her new-found lust, devotion, and determination to

   become a sexual slave to a Master.

   Continued in MRWADE.232.....

   The entire Master Wade series of erotica may be found in The

   Mansion, the adult area of Wade's World BBS, (703) 694-5460, Ansi

   terminal emulation, 8,N,1, 1200-9600 baud.

   
