Lara Comes of Age - Part 1
by Arachnophile
In the year 2014, a series of cosmic occurrences caused there to be established a World Emperor. Based in New Zealand, the Emperor, improbably enough, a forty-one year old English pianist, took to his bed a succession of lovely young women and girls as partial amelioration of the stresses and tensions that come with literally global responsibilities. The ongoing story from which this idea was taken, titled, Misogynist Emperor, is available at this location: http://storiesonline.net/a/Saxon/2
NOTE: access to the site may require registration, which is free. Lara's introduction may be found in the story titled: Weeks 1 & 2: Princess Lara
The first young lovely called to him was a 16 year old English girl named Lara Stott. Lara’s reaction to being the “first” was somewhat less than enthusiasm. She fulfilled her duties, however, to the satisfaction of the Emperor and was returned safely to her home and family. What follows is a series of letters between her and the Emperor that allows the reader a glimpse into her private life following her “visit” to the imperial palace.
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Letter from Lara Stott to his Imperial Majesty:
Your Imperial Highness:
I've taken the liberty to write to you knowing that my father answered your inquiry and also knowing what he said about me.
To begin, what he wrote was correct. When I had first returned from New Zealand, I was somewhat stunned, I suppose. To be chosen "first" was an honour, but at the time I didn't see it quite that way. That I would be "despoiled" was what concerned me. I was actually frightened.
Once it was over, I was not relieved as I thought I should have been. Instead, as my father wrote, I felt shamed by what had happened. I was anxious and had trouble sleeping. Both teachers and students at my school and all my family knew about it. I was mortified -- at first. I thought I might be shunned by people but against all expectation, I've become a sort of celebrity!
I found that far from being considered "untouchable," other people took an interest in me; teachers and students, of course, but neighbors and total strangers, too. They expressed admiration for my courage in not only responding to your invitation but also my attempt to carry on with my life as if it did not happen. They thought I was very brave for doing so. I, however, did not think of myself as brave.
There were also other students, girls, mostly, who wanted to know everything about it. I was shocked by this to say the least! At first, I was very shy and embarrassed to speak about what had happened but after confiding in two of my closest friends, I found that I really did feel proud. As the weeks went by, I felt prouder still and was much more comfortable discussing my experience.
My attitude toward it all has gradually changed, too. Not only am I not ashamed, I realized that I wanted to do it again! Have sex, I mean, not necessarily travel to New Zealand. And so, to that end, I've been seeing a very nice boy. His name is Gareth. His dad is a barrister and his mum is a social services worker. Anyway, he and I have started having sex. I hope you do not mind. I really like it.
What I especially want to say to you is "thank you." I would not have had sex this soon if not for you, so I am grateful. I've begun to feel much more confident and I've come to understand that sex is beautiful and that my body should be shared. In regard to the last bit, I have done something very daring: I've put an advertisement in a phone booth offering sex for money.
I've had a reply and will be meeting the man tomorrow in a public place. He claims to be 32, married, and desirous of having sex with a young girl. (I've listed my age as 18 so as not to frighten anyone away or to draw the attention of the police.
I hope all this meets with your approval. Based on our conversations that weekend, I am almost sure that it does.
Thank you, again, for taking an interest in me and for opening me up to a whole new and wonderful world.
Yours truly,
Lara Stott
Letter to Ms. Lara Stott from his Imperial Majesty:
Dear Lara,
It's so nice to hear from you! I'm glad you are doing well, and in particular finding that sex is fun, and that you are sharing your beautiful body. You are very blessed by nature to have the looks you do, and they are not to be withheld selfishly. I did not tell you during your time here that a friend of mine described you as 'having everything': in other words, your face, hair complexion, figure, breasts. You will get better still, as you are not yet even 15. Sometimes I think it would be great to have you here as one of my maidservants, but all places are taken at the moment! In any case, you seem to be a good ambassador for my policies where you are right now! Keep up the good work.
I'm particularly pleased you have taken a boyfriend, and that you have wasted little time in getting sexual with him. It's simply silly not to at your age. He sounds like he is from a good family, and a fairly confident type. That's fine. He's exactly the sort I imagined would win your heart (I think 'get between your legs' is the crude phrase I used, at one moment where I lost my patience just slightly with you - sorry for that). However, I would like to suggest you 'give yourself' occasionally to other boys, the shy types that have yet to get their first experience with a girl. This does not mean to say abandon your relationship of choice, but just have the occasional night 'on the side', or a stolen moment in the local park. I may be making this type of thing law, as an experiment in some countries, including Britain soon, so watch out for that.
I'm less pleased, however, with you taking money for it, from your phone booth ad. Whilst I approve wholeheartedly of the advert - a wonderful old-fashioned way of doing it! - I do not approve of the mercenary making of money from men. This is behaviour I am trying to discourage in the female gender - the giving of sex on your own agenda. It should be a 'selfless' act, at least most of the time. I hope you understand this. I do understand, though, that a little extra money at your age is useful. I do not mind you continuing with this, so long as you charge a reasonable fee (adult escorts with your prettiness tend to be too expensive for the average guy, costing them a week's wages for example).
Lest it seem I am angry with you, let me take this opportunity to advise you to take care. You can never be sure what type of man you will met through your 'phone booth' adventures. They can quite easily lie and play a role before they meet you for real, by which time it could be too late. If you are ever treated 'badly', you must inform me and I shall take action. It's reasonable for them to expect unprotected vaginal sex, to cum in your mouth, or do you in your lovely bum. I remember you were a little surprised, humiliated even when I did that to you, but I trust you understand now that anal sex with a female is something many men crave. It's by no means a 'gay thing'. The best thing may be to practice it with your boyfriend.
I conclude by inviting you to the palace to celebrate your 17th birthday (June 23rd, yes?). You may bring your boyfriend along (expenses paid) and a girl-friend too (also paid, but warn her of the expectations I may have for her), stay for a whole week or a weekend (your choice, but it is a long way to come for only 2 days!). I'll have my maidservants prepare a party of some kind. I'll have a harem by this time too. Many people will be excited to meet you, with your status of being 'the first'. RSVP by email. I am very busy these days, but will do my best to organize this.
Yours affectionately,
Philip
Letter to His Imperial Majesty from Lara Stott:
Dearest Philip,
Thank you for the kind letter and the advice. Forgive me for taking so long to reply. It's taken me more than three weeks because of the events I shall now describe to you.
Although I appreciated your advice and your encouragement, I felt chagrined at your admonition regarding the selling of my body. As I read your message, I was embarrassed. I had to admit that what I had done was ill-considered. I did it because it seemed so exciting and because I wanted anonymous sex. (Of course, I did not tell my boyfriend, Gareth.) After reading your email, I realized the incorrectness of it. I’ve since withdrawn the advert. Still, I had arranged to meet the man so I went through with it.
His name was Nigel and we met at the British Museum in front of the Elgin Marbles. I wore the bright green scarf by which I told him he would recognize me. He was nicer looking than I had anticipated. I pretended to be experienced in these matters and suggested we go to a little hotel near the museum that I had reviewed beforehand. I have to tell you I was very nervous! I tried hard not to show it. He, however, was very shy and I could tell this was the first time he had solicited sex from a girl.
He was very polite and was tentative in asking for oral sex to orgasm and intercourse, also to climax. As our session progressed I became much more confident, especially as he looked to me to 'direct' the activity. It turned out to be a very delightful hour. At the risk of being too familiar, I'll describe not only what happened the first time (we meet regularly now) and the reason he procured the services of a 'professional' as he called it.
Nigel assumed that I would collect the £100 fee I stipulated in my advert. He was quite surprised when I said he should give me only £20, that I required no more than that. He shrugged his shoulders, handed me a 20, and we began our encounter.
His penis is what I've learned to be average size (about 6 ½ inches long, curving slightly upward). He undressed very quickly. As I slowly, perhaps a bit teasingly, removed my clothes, he became erect, which I took as a compliment. I told him that per his request, I would suck him to orgasm. As I knelt to begin my task, he asked very considerately if I would prefer to use a condom. I replied that, no, I didn't mind the taste of semen and that he should not be concerned; unless, of course, that he prefer that I cover him. He said 'no,' and that he hadn't expected such a 'treat.' (That was the word he used.)
Although I do not have a lot of experience sucking penises, I think I did very well as it could not have been more a minute passing before Nigel erupted, sending a rather copious amount of semen into my mouth and down my throat. As the luscious, precious fluid filled my mouth and slid down to my stomach, I felt the most amazing thing: it was a combination of pride in my skill, happiness for him, and a deep sense of having done a good deed for a man very much in need of such a thing. As it turned out, my instinct about his needs was correct.
As you might well imagine, he was thrilled and very effusive in his gratitude. I wiped off my mouth before standing and kissing him tenderly. He had touched me with his politesse, his eagerness, and his shyness. He held me in his arms and was very still for quite some time. I was astonished to hear him sniffling! Was he weeping?! Over sex with me?! (I later discovered that he wept for a different reason.)
A bit embarrassed and not knowing what to do, I did nothing. After a time, he released me and bade me lie down with him, which I did happily. He was very sweet. Although I did not initiate the conversation, he told me he was married with a little boy, aged 5. He was concerned that I know how much he loved his wife. He was visiting me because she cannot have sex. This broke my heart but also made me glad that I could help him and I told him so. He said that he appreciated this and that it confirmed his impression upon meeting me that I was a kind person. (I don't think of myself that way but now perhaps I should.)
After we lay conversing for some time, he asked if we could have intercourse. I readily agreed and asked how he wanted me. He asked to be allowed to enter me from behind. I said, 'Of course, you're paying for it!' and we both laughed. He then asked if I had a condom. It was then that I told him I wanted him to cum inside me, that I was clean and that I trusted that he was, too. His desire was such that he complied and moved to take me quickly. He thrust into me for a good five minutes or so before he gasped and pushed hard against my bottom as he spurted. We lay down again after he withdrew. I surprised him by licking and sucking his organ to clean it.
I hadn't climaxed and hadn't felt the need. I was, after all, performing a service for him. I enjoyed giving myself and I could always masturbate later if I wished. Nigel, however, was very concerned that I cum. My protest that he need not be worried about that was met with a firm resolve: he was very determined to lick me to orgasm. I shrugged my shoulders and said, 'All right,' and lay on my back with my legs spread. I was surprised by his skill in this area and thoroughly enjoyed his efforts. I came to a wonderful climax within a short period of time.
As Nigel dressed to leave, I told him that I wanted to meet him weekly in the same location and that I would not charge him in future. He nodded his head and just looked at me for the longest time. He then said, 'You're the dearest girl, Sandra; just the dearest girl.' (I had used the name 'Sandra' in my ad.) Before he left he held me close, me naked, him fully clothed, and tenderly kissed my forehead.
I hope my performance meets with your approval, your highness. It made me feel so good to have done it with him. I felt I'd given something worthwhile to a very fine person. I was happy.
I've met Nigel each week for the last three. At our third encounter, he surprised me with something that I can still scarcely believe happened. I'll save that story for my next email to you, if you are interested. It might seem like puerile melodrama to you, but the experience touched me deeply.
Sincerely, your friend and lover,
Lara
P.S. I must decline the offer to travel to New Zealand for my 17th birthday. May I take you up on your offer at a later date?
Letter to Ms. Lara Stott from His Imperial Majesty:
Dear Lara,
While I am disappointed that you will not be traveling to the imperial palace for your upcoming 15th birthday, I understand that the travel is not only wearing but intrudes itself into your school and social schedules. Of course you may defer your arrival to a later date. I will be happy to see you any time!
You piqued my interest with your cryptic statement in the last paragraph of your latest message. Yes, I’m very interested in what happened to you and Nigel, not least because I’m very interested in you and your progress.
So, please explain what happened. I’ll be glad to offer advice or assistance if it is needed. You have only to ask.
Yours affectionately,
Philip
Letter to his Imperial Majesty from Ms. Lara Stott:
My Dearest Philip,
Since my first email to you, Nigel and I had been together three more times as I stated. I promised to tell you what happened during our most recent rendezvous. It was, as I said in my last message, something astonishing; so astonishing that to say it has changed me in a fundamental way would not be an exaggeration.
I expected to make love in our usual hotel but Nigel surprised me by saying he wanted to take me somewhere else. I must have blanched noticeably as he recognized my discomfort and sought immediately to allay my fears. 'It's no place secluded,' he assured me. 'In fact, we won't be alone at all.'
I relaxed and asked, 'Where is it then? Are we going to a restaurant? A pub?' He smiled and said, 'No, it's someplace you wouldn't expect.'
Intrigued now, I sat in silence as he drove to an address in Chelsea. He stopped the car and parked on the street. ‘Were we to go into one of the houses?' I wondered. As I turned to ask, Nigel faced me and said, 'This is where I live.' I must have looked startled because he said, 'Don't be alarmed.'
'Why are we here?' I asked. I knew his wife was an invalid. Was she now in hospital? Shouldn't he be with her and not with his mistress?
Before I could say anything, Nigel said, 'Claire wants to meet you.'
I was stunned.
'What?!' I cried. 'Are you serious?!'
'Yes,' he said, 'I'm very serious. I told you I love my wife very much. Well, she loves me very much. In fact, she picked you out for me.'
'She picked me out?!' I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
'Yes, we had a very loving and intense sex life before she was taken ill. She's been ill the past 3 years. She finally told me that we must find a lover for me. I refused at first but she insisted. She begged me; I relented. We considered women on the Internet and had selected three from which we would choose one.
‘Then, it so happened I saw your advert. I was in that phone booth because I'd left my mobile at home, you see. Your ad caught my eye and I told Claire about it. She said to me, "She's the one!" She was so sure ... anyway, I contacted you and ... here we are.'
I still didn't know what to say. I was anxious and somewhat upset. Understanding this, he said, 'Look, you don't have to do this. I can take you home or anywhere you choose. But I'm asking you because it would mean so much to Claire to meet you. I've told her how wonderful you are and she asked, please, could I bring you to her.'
Staring straight ahead, I said, hesitantly, 'All right ... if you think she won't be cross ...'
'She won’t be at all ... she's a wonderful person ...' He reached over to stroke my cheek, '... just like you.'
When I walked into the house, we were greeted by a nurse. We made introductions (we pretended that I was being considered for a nanny) and were assured that their little son was asleep. The nurse took her leave after giving an update on his wife's condition: she was, alas, much the same.
'Claire? Claire ... it's Nigel. I brought Sandra to meet you, darling.'
His wife was in the bed, the lights were dim, Nigel was sitting in a chair by the nightstand. She was very thin. She had an IV drip in her arm. Still, I could see how beautiful she was. It was the kind of beauty that makes another woman both humble and jealous.
'Oh,' she said, 'Sandra!' She opened her eyes and I saw them dart about the room. They landed on me and I must have looked nonplussed to say the least. But despite her condition she sought to put me at ease.
'Sandra,' she called to me, her voice weak but steady. 'Sandra, please come close, dear.' She extended a hand and I stepped into the halo of light from the nightstand lamp and took it. Oh, Philip! Her hand was so thin and so cold! But still she clasped my hand tightly and shook it. I covered it with my own.
'How do you do, Claire,' I said to her, not knowing what else to say. I was surprised, however, to feel completely comfortable doing so. I think it was because she was the kind of person who puts you at ease at once. I felt welcomed by her, as if I already knew her. It was so unusual.
It was also very emotional for me. She was dying. I hadn't ever seen a real, live person dying before. I looked over my shoulder to see the bedroom door closing. Nigel had left us, appropriately so. I knelt by the bed and kissed her hand, my eyes filled with tears. She spoke to me.
'Sandra … thank you for taking care of my husband. I love him so much.'
I didn't know what to say. Tears were now streaming down my face.
'Sandra ... Sandra ... don't cry dear, don't be sad. You've cheered me immensely. You're so lovely ... so lovely.'
She was tiring now. I kissed her hand again and held it to my face. I made the decision to lie on the bed next to her and to hold her.
'Claire ... oh, Claire …' I said as I caressed the woman, kissing her face, her forehead, and stroking her hair. She was so beautiful, even with her illness. I had wanted her absolution in a vague sort of way since Nigel told me of her condition. Now that I had met her, I instantly fell in love with her.
Yes, I was in love with her. I'm not exaggerating when I say it. Oh, to have been able to make love to her! But I never would. She was slipping away from me even as I held her, slipping away from her son and husband and all the people who knew and loved her.
'Claire ... if I could only change places with you, I would ... I would!' I cried. I was sobbing now and couldn't stop.
Though tired, she opened her eyes and smiled at me.
'Sandra ... no darling, no ... live and make the most of every moment ... you're so young and beautiful!'
She gripped my hand with a strength I would not have anticipated. She was gasping now, struggling to speak.
'You must take care of Nigel ... just for a time ... I know you have your own ... life ... but he'll need you ... Sandra ... promise me ... promise ... me ...'
I promised her that I would faithfully take care of his needs. I would help him to recover if I could.
She died three days later. Even now, I can feel her, see her in my mind's eye. At the age of 16, I am hopelessly in love with a dead woman. I could never have anticipated such a thing.
I will keep my promise to her. I will give myself to Nigel whenever he wants me. He's sad right now and has withdrawn, but he'll come back to me; I know he will. I'll be waiting.
This is what I wanted to tell you, Phillip; you, more than anyone, I thought, would understand.
Your friend and lover,
Lara