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LuckyClover
I am a Master in the Orlando area, who grew up in the lifestyle. Both my parents are Dom/Domme, I had slaves, and subs around from the time I could remember, but did not realize what they where, till much later in life. I have a lot to offer, and am willing to train. This is not a little part of my life but it is all thru my life. I have trained sub/slaves, Dom/Dommes. So I am not looking for vanilla anything. I seek a sub/slave who knows what she wants, and is not afraid to explore and learn. Get back to me so we can speak.

http://mydungeonspace.com/PunisherFL/


"I've occasionally heard from Doms & Dommes who think that it somehow reduces them as Masters to thank a slave. In my opinion any man who feels less the Master when he thanks a slave is probably not secure enough to have been a Master in the first place."
9/12/2008 8:51:51 AM
She held the notice in her hands, still wet with soapy water from the kitchen sink, and sobbed. The paper, a noisome shade of dill, began to fold, back down over itself like a broken leaf.

Great shuddering sobs wracked her frame as Jen put her head in her hands and let her anguish flow out of her. This was the third time she'd received one of these -- these green notes announcing her insolvency and forecasting the end of her professional career.

For if she could not make the payments on her student loans, then how was she to finish her doctoral thesis?

And if she couldn't finish her doctoral thesis, then her only means of escaping the crushing debt of her student loans would evaporate as well, leaving her in the No-Man's-Land of being All But Dissertation. Her fellow students laughed about this pariah status, conflating it to the cruel acronym 'ABD'. But to folks like her, struggling to write and research fast enough to stay one step ahead of the mounting bills that accrued to those doctoral candidates unlucky enough to be denied university funding was a terrible struggle.

And Jen was most certainly one of those unfortunates; she'd gotten enough teaching jobs to pay some of her bills, but by some misfortune the University hadn't seen fit to fund her any further. This had meant that she was on her own. Sufficient supplemental income hadn't been forthcoming, not even from the temp agencies she'd visited. She simply couldn't study and work ... one or the other, but not both.

Within two months the past due notices had started to flood in. Her trips to the Bursar had proved futile. Nothing, she had decided, was as cold as a bureaucrat backed by policy.

Jen wiped her eyes with one hand, flinching a bit as the soap stung her eyes a bit. Oddly enough, the sting seemed to help a bit, piercing the sorrow that was threatening to engulf her. It was as if the pain helped focus her.

She didn't think much of it at the time.

Jen padded over to her desk, a cluttered affair of photocopied Soviet documents and heavy works by other scholars. Atop it all was the small shoebox she used to organize her growing financial disaster. She began to rummage through the bills, looking for her tattered checkbook, her momentary gust of calm rapidly dissolving into frustration as it eluded her.

The sharp rap on her door made her jump. Her gaze leapt to the door, a sudden pounding in her heart.

No one ever came to visit her apartment; it was a studio, and hadn't seen guests in a long time. Indeed, she hadn't even had a lover in her worn little nest in ages; her bed lay unused in the corner, all tangled sheets and unmet desires.

The rap came again, three quick knocks in succession.

"Just a moment," she called out, suddenly apprehensive.

Who could it be, she wondered as she pulled on a pair of shorts over her panties. There was a large blue stain on her tank top, something from the past week's baking; probably blueberries, but she wasn't sure.

She stepped over piles of books and clothes and leaned over to the peephole. Willing herself not to breathe, she looked out to see her visitor.

Before her, warped by the walleye of the peephole, stood a man and a woman. Both were very well dressed, and looked terribly busy.

"We can see you, you know. Please open the door." The woman's voice had just a hint of mirth in it.

"One second, please," she replied, her mind awhirl until she realized that she'd blocked the sunlight behind her when she'd leaned in to look.

Taking one last attempt to pull her unruly blonde curls into a workable ponytail, she began to undo the latch and chain. Finally, she opened the door a bit and leaned around to look upon her visitors.

He was dressed in a black Armani suit, with a dark red tie that looked almost like blood against his crisp white shirt. She knew at a glance that his shoes cost more than her rent. Fine wire glasses perched on a face that was pleasant, if not especially handsome, framing ice blue eyes that stabbed out at her. The man was blond, and perhaps twenty four years old.

Despite herself, she found him unexpectedly attractive, almost likable, without any real reason.

By contrast, the woman beside him immediately put her on edge.

She was a striking Asian beauty -- Thai, Jen thought to herself. Unlike the man, who looked like he was supposed to be there, the Thai's very presence seemed extraneous, as if she was something the blond man brought with him out of convenience, rather than necessity. Still, the woman looked almost predatory as she stood there, coolly observing Jen's every detail.

What arrangement lay between these two, she wondered?

And why did she dislike this complete stranger so?

The Asian woman was wrapped in a light blue silk blouse that emphasized the fact that she wore no brassiere over her small but decidedly pert breasts; it was cut very low, exposing a great V of her toffee skin. A short black skirt and high, pointed heels made Jen burn with envy at her ability to wear such clothing. Her legs were lean and toned, and long for her frame, clad in stockings whose lace tops were just barely visible.

Jen felt a surge of shame at the way her own full figure couldn't hope to aspire to such willowy contours. Her legs were fairly toned from her long walks to and from class, but this creature before her was obviously the product of hours of training and exercise, and Jen's generous curves owed as much to genetics as they did to her vices.

Expensive jewelry adorned her frame, including, Jen noted, what could only be a platinum choker inset with a large sapphire. Her earlobes sported multiple rings, however, which suggested something darker about her character.

The woman's hair was cropped very short, and feathered forward in a style that was at once very retro and very cutting edge; it reminded Jen of a Chinese actress she'd one seen, but whose name she couldn't recall. Nonetheless, it was the very antithesis of her unruly curved, and only served to reinforce the gulf between the elegant, well-appointed stranger and her, the disheveled, impoverish student.

Her almond-shaped eyes were bright hazel in color, but completely disinterested in tone, in keeping with her look of disdain. This led Jen to the unexpected conclusion that the woman knew the entire outcome of this interchange before it had even begun, as if what was about to happen was something strictly pro forma, a ritual that had to be conducted for its own sake.

The man cleared his throat. "Are you Jennifer McIntyre?" His tone was warm, but businesslike, and yet she found herself relaxing.

"Yes, can I help you?"

"Ms. McIntyre, my name is Mr. Starke; this is my associate Suchin." Only one name, she thought to herself? He smiled at her; at what must have been the expression on her face. "We are representatives of a firm that has taken a, shall we say ... special ... interest in your predicament."

"My predicament?"

The woman stepped forward, "Please don't waste our time, Ms. McIntyre, we both know you're in debts beyond your abilities." Her voice was high, almost lyrical.

To Jen's surprise, this bold if truthful assertion elicited a sharp glance from Starke at his companion. Sunchin quailed, the affected disdain suddenly gone from her face as she stepped back into her former spot.

If she hadn't had just seen it, she wouldn't have believed it.

What was going on here?

How could one glance completely upend such arrogance?

Starke smiled, "Please excuse my associate. She is new to this, and sometimes speaks when she should listen." Jen nodded, her eyes still on the Asian, whose eyes were now downcast.

"To continue, please," his voice drew her back, the other woman's predicament suddenly forgotten once her eyes met his, "my firm is aware of the nature of your not inconsiderable debts, and we have come to work with you to reach an amicable resolution to your situation."

"I don't understand."

"Ms. McIntyre, we work for a consortium called the Lenox Group. We have business interests and holdings across the globe. Those holdings and interest serve a select client base, and we guard them fiercely."

"Yes, but what does that have to do with me?" She gripped the door a little more tightly.

"Your debts have begun to touch on one of our interests. One of our subsidiary corporations purchased a block of student loan debt from several universities and, in the process of reviewing the files of our newest acquisition, your account was flagged for review and resolution."

"Resolution?" She tried not to let her voice quaver.

He smiled again, this time a genuine smile, one that made her smile.

"No, no, nothing so sinister as what you're obviously thinking. We are not a debt collection agency. Our interest in you is more ... complicated than that."

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Complicated how?"

"We will pay all of your debts, in exchange for your entering into a contract for your services with our firm."

"Excuse me?" It seemed like time had stopped. He'd said something, but it sounded to her like gibberish.

Something about paying her debts?!?

She felt dizzy ... like someone had told her Santa Claus was real.

He gave her a warm smile. "Yes, I usually get that reaction."

Starke took a moment to remove his glasses and run a sham over them. Jen knew he was pausing for dramatic effect, even as her brain cannibalized itself with the unbearable wait. After a torturous thirty seconds, he put his glasses back on and looked at her. "I said, we would like to resolve this situation to our mutual benefit by relieving you of your debts."

"Why?"

"Ah, yes, the 'why' of it. Most of your kind don't ask that question."

My kind, she wondered? What did that mean?

"Well, we run a business venture. So naturally our offer would be in exchange for your entering into a service contract with our firm."

Jen shook her head, conscious of the way her hair bounced; she was in desperate need of a shower. A long morning's preparation for her afternoon class had left her positively rumpled.

"All of my debts?" She said it slowly, deliberately.

He nodded, smiling at her single mindedness.

And she swore she heard a suppressed giggle from Suchin.

"All of them."

"But why?" she asked again, "what do I have to offer your firm that could possibly be of such value? I owe quite a lot of money." She couldn't even bring herself to admit it to her mother, let alone two total strangers.

"We know. One hundred forty two thousand dollars is not a trivial sum, so please do consider our offer." A smug look stole across his face.

Her temper, so rare these days, flared.

How dare he!

If he saw her irritation, Starke gave no notice, as if her offended ego was of no consequence. "Remember, we've purchased your debt."

She held up a hand, confused. "You didn't answer my question. What do I have that is worth one hundred forty thousand dollars?"

He stepped in then, until he stood so close to her she thought he was going to kiss her. She could smell him, a strong, masculine scent, with just a trace of some very expensive cologne.

Jen found herself responding to him, parts of body awakening at his closeness to generate a slow heat that filled her with some very peculiar urges.

It was totally unexpected.

Totally irrational.

But it was there ... a deep throb within her.

Some connection between them.

Something that made her hunger for him.

She swallowed as his blue eyes met hers, fighting to stay focused.

His icy gaze didn't help, telling her that he'd sooner see her on her knees before him.

Starke's answer, almost a whisper, rocked her to her very core:

"You."

She gasped, understanding flooding in.

Suddenly it all made sense ...

"No," she breathed, not wanting to believe.

"Yes," again, the sibilant whisper, "you could be quite valuable to us."

That shocked her. Years of being single, of spending her nights with books instead of a lover had left her ego decidedly muted. To have this inexplicably attractive stranger tell her that she was valuable -- in a purely sexual sense -- was surreal.

And yet ...

Could she be what they so clearly wanted?

Her body ached with the possibility.

To be appreciated as a woman rather than a scholar; to be appreciated only as a woman.

Her good-girl upbringing reasserted itself for a moment. She'd always liked sex, but this was ridiculous.

"But I couldn't possibly ... I mean ... it's ... it's just not done."

"More than you think," this from Suchin, delivered with a wry smile that told Jen in an instant that the Asian beauty belonged to Mr. Starke. Jen tore her gaze from the man before her and looked at the Asian beauty, her mind almost unable to process what was being discussed.

Bright almond eyes met hers with a look that spoke of fulfillment.

Jen's mind burned with images of the slender, haughty woman on her knees servicing Starke ... being taken by him in a public park ... riding him in a bed of crisp white sheets ... the possibilities she conjured up for Suchin seemed endless.

And she found herself wishing that she had such opportunities.

"But ..." she lost her voice.

Starke's hand on her chin was warm, but firm as he turned her head away from Suchin. "Don't look at her. Look at me."

There was power in his voice, and despite the shock of what they were discussing -- despite the fact that this stranger had been standing on her doorstep for less than ten minutes -- Jen found herself thrilling to his commands.

She looked at him, meeting his gaze.

Jen could barely breathe.

"How long," she croaked.

"Three years," he replied, with a tone that made her think that time was too short for his liking. His touch burned as he stepped in even closer, until the front of his suit jacket brushed against her breast.

Her nipples ached as they strained against the rough cotton of her tank top, and she marveled at how wet she suddenly was.

Who was this man?!?

"Don't say no, just yet, Ms. McIntyre. Think it through. There are tremendous benefits to this arrangement. Simply for having this discussion, we've erase twenty thousand dollars of your debt, with a credit card, I believe. Right, Suchin?"

"Yes, sir, with her card through the First Pioneers Bank of San Antonio."

Jen's started; they were that far into her accounts?

"What's more," he continued, reaching out to take her hands in his," the benefits to this arrangement aren't purely financial. We've been informed of your particular, shall we say, appetites, and we're prepared to indulge them as a part of your contract."

"My appetites?" Her mouth was dry, and the words croaked out.

Starke's smile told her that he knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Yes, that singular activity we both know you crave."

Somehow they knew she loved to suck cock.

How, she didn't know. It wasn't something she broadcast.

Did it mean they'd contacted her former lovers?

Had they surveiled her at some point?

Jen's pussy suddenly burned white hot, and she shivered with desire.

Did it matter? Starke seemed to be promising her everything her long denied libido cried out for.

Jen pursed her lips, considering the wonderful possibilities.

"Precisely," Starke said, releasing her hands.

He stepped back, and straightened his coat. She could barely breathe, and stood in the doorway, her chest heaving as she tried to comprehend what she'd just been asked to do.

Starke snapped his fingers, and Suchin stepped forward, reaching into a heavy leather shoulder bag, and withdrew a heavy white envelope. She stepped forward and knelt, and then held the packet out to Jen with both hands out in front of her, her eyes downcast.

Jen looked at the packet, letting a long moment pass. She looked at Starke, who met her gaze calmly, and then looked down at the woman kneeling before her. From this angle, she could see well into the top of Suchin's silk blouse, and unexpectedly found herself hoping for more than a glimpse of the woman's pert breasts.

At last, she shook of her delirium and took the packet. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

As the Thai beauty stood and stepped back behind him, Starke smiled again, "Read it tonight, and then call me tomorrow morning."

A card appeared in his hand as if from nowhere, heavy crimson cardstock graced by the outline of a white crane. She took it and looked at it, noting that its three lines said simply: Starke, Acquisitions, and a phone number for whose area code she didn't recognize.

Acquisitions ...

Would she be someone's plaything? Someone's property?

He turned on his heel and was gone, striding down the hall. Suchin glanced at him quickly, and seeing her moment, tottered over to Jen on her high heels. She leaned in and kissed Jen on the mouth, a soft full kiss that sent an electric shock through her body.

Bright hazel eyes, no longer disinterested in the least, beamed at her.

"Say yes," she said. "You won't regret it."

"Suchin!" Starke's voice rebounded off the walls from around the corner. The Asian beauty smiled and leaned in for another quick kiss. Jen could do nothing, rooted to the floor by the absurdity of it all.

"You won't regret it," she said again, her breath warm on Jen's lips, "I didn't."

Jen said nothing.

Starke called again, his voice flat now with displeasure. Suchin turned and tottered down the hall, and Jen could only watch the glory that was her finely toned body move in decidedly sexual rhythms as she went.

She stood there for a long while, the envelope in her hand, her body aflame with desire, her mind crippled by the sudden chance at salvation offered to her, and the extreme cost to obtain it.

But was it really even a cost?

She'd been questioning her goals already ...

At last she turned, and stepped back into her apartment.

Jen shut the door, and sank onto her bed, and lay there for some time, her thoughts askew as her hands gave release to her passions, moving in time to tease her aching pussy into orgasm after orgasm in a vain attempt to purge the offer from her mind, from her soul.

But she couldn't.

Simple physical release proved no boon, she realized, after some time, as she lay on the bed, naked and sweating from her torments. Her breasts throbbed as never before, and the heady smell of sex that filled her small apartment was false evidence of sexual release.

Jen sat up and tore open the envelope, noting the first class ticket that was clipped to the thick legal document.

She wanted this, she realized.

She wanted this very badly.

The dark, hungry side of her surged to the fore ...

She would have to pack quickly if she was going to make that evening's flight.
4/11/2008 7:45:11 AM
This just happened last year to me....

The evening had begun so well; now it was ruined.

She was drunk, not so drunk that she couldn't function, just one stage beyond a good buzz. At that point where inhibitions collapsed in the face of the alcohol; where those insecurities normally locked away come to the fore.

Worse, she was aroused. Incredibly aroused. The night's events had brought her to a fever pitch of desire: She ached for him, her pussy fairly throbbed with need, hungry for his touch. But that was not to be; he was there, before her, in the arms of another.

Kelly took another sip from her vodka and soda and gripped the bar for support. Barely three weeks into their relationship and she'd already lost him.

+++

On Wednesday afternoon, he'd called her to invite her to a costume party being thrown by some friends of his. Given the Halloween was months away, she'd thought it a bit odd until he'd explained that it was an annual event that they'd all been attending since they moved to the city five years earlier. What had started as a whim had turned into tradition – and tradition mandated that if any of them was involved with someone, then that someone was invited. Corm gave her the information and told her that he'd be sending her costume over on Saturday afternoon, and to be ready to leave by seven o'clock.

Kelly thought it a bit odd that Corm was going to tell her what to wear to the party, but she had to admit that his taking charge did make it all that easier. No need to fret about what to wear or how to find a costume in time. Since that afternoon in her backyard, when he'd taken charge and given her a night of passion that still made her blush, he seemed to do that now and again: Tell her what to do, but only things he knew she'd want to do but wouldn't if left to her own devices. It was odd how he could sense the limits of what she was willing to do – and then push her just a bit farther. Deep down she liked it, even if it did scare her just a bit. After all, it had only been two weeks – three dates and one weekend spent together – but following her performance on her front porch Kelly recognized that this relationship was going to proceed a little more rapidly.

So on Saturday afternoon at two o'clock, she was not at all surprised to hear her doorbell ring. Dressed in a short, jade silk robe, she was, however, surprised to find him on her doorstep when she opened the door. He was dressed in sandals, a simple pair of shorts, and a navy University of Michigan t-shirt. Despite the heat of the day he looked like he'd just gotten dressed – a fact that made her feel quite self-conscious. Her hair was a mess, her blonde curls askew, and she had no makeup on. She hadn't even showered yet, having lazed away the day reading in her study.

"Corm," she sputtered, "I didn't expect you. I know you said the package would be delivered, but I thought by a postman. I'm not presentable."

He laughed and drew her to him. "Nonsense." His hand snaked out to pull her robe open. Beneath the silk she was totally nude save for a pair of white cotton bobbysocks – and now here her lush frame lay revealed to him and the neighborhood alike.

Corm smiled. "Well now, I guess you don't need to tip the deliveryman after all, do you?"

Before she could even protest this sudden exposure he kissed her. The embrace consumed Kelly; she could feel her breasts crush into his hard chest. She snuggled into him, reveling in the way their bodies seemed to just 'fit' together. He caressed the length of her with his right hand, running his fingers lightly across the silk to make her shiver. To her pleasant surprise, she was getting wet. Perhaps she'd get a treat before the party? Kelly ground her pelvis into his, and he growled in response, cupping one pert buttock in response.

At last he broke the kiss and stepped away, handing her the package as she pouted from the sudden break. "See you at seven."

And then he was gone, driving away in his SUV, leaving her there, nude and extremely aroused, on her front porch. She dashed inside – as much in eagerness to examine the contents of her new package as to avoid the prying eyes of her neighbors. It might have been just her imagination, but she could have sworn that she saw Brenda's front curtain flutter closed.

Five hours, then, until it was time to go. Plenty of time to get ready.

She came twice in the shower just thinking about him.

+++

Promptly at seven o'clock her doorbell rang. Kelly strode to the door and opened it to find a Roman centurion on her doorstep. She giggled at Corm's costume; he was very dashing in his red tunic, crested helm, and burnished silver chest plate. A small sword hung by his side – a gladius she knew from her readings in freshman history years past – and a long red cloak whirled about him.

"What, no toga?" she asked? Most men she knew who would have gone to a costume party dressed as a Roman would have opted for the more showy garb of a senator – not least for its allegory to more sensual pursuits.

He smiled. "No, no togas for me. As you can tell from your own costume, this is no college toga party."

She understood exactly what he meant with that remark. When she'd opened the box she'd found an elaborate French maid costume before her. It was clear that the costume was quite expensive. The stockings alone were Italian lace and must have cost a hundred dollars at least. He was playing dress-up to be sure – men could be quite predictable sometimes – but he was doing it with sufficient style that she felt flattered by his choice.

Personally, she considered the costume too risqué, having seen how short the black skirt was once she put it on, but the garters and stockings – complete with a thin seam down the length of them in the back – was simply wicked.

The costume emphasized two things: Her legs, which were long and toned from hours on her Stairmaster, and so were well-served by the mules he'd included in the box; and her chest, where a black corset pushed her already ample cleavage up and together. A the tiny mask covering her eyes, and so she knew that no one who would see her would know that it was her dressed in such a brazen manner.

An hour in front of her mirror had given her the time to be ready. She'd shaved in the shower, first her legs, and then her pussy. For three weeks now, since that first afternoon, she had been going completely bald. It pleased him, she knew, and so she played along, the better to whet his appetite. After all, if it had the effect of making him eager to taste him, then who was she to disagree? The man's tongue was simply amazing; frankly, she often got wet just from the act of shaving, because of the direct to connection to his oral ministrations. Following that ritual, she'd put on her makeup, using eye shadow and blush to emphasize her eyes, and yet hint at a trashy side, the better to suit her costume. Her golden curls were pulled back to accommodate the outfit's white lace cap, and a tiny black lace thong covered her beneath the skirt. Topping it all off was a black velvet choker.

"How do I look?" she asked, giving him a slow twirl.

He whistled in appreciation. "Sinful."

+++

They took a limousine to the event. Kelly leaned back with a sigh, content to let him adore her on the way over. Throughout the ride he tormented her. Kissing her neck, carefully avoiding her lips so as to not disturb her makeup, while running his hands up along her thighs to lightly caress her thong. Frankly it was driving her wild. She was fully aroused, and would have happily turned back for a night of passion. But she forced herself to behave, to lock away her desire for the next couple hours. It was a talent she was slowly coming to realize, the ability to wall off her lust before it consumed her. Corm was aware of her efforts in this regard and had been doing his best to destroy those walls as fast as she could put them into place.

Tonight was just the latest battle. He clearly thought that he was going to work her into a fever pitch on the way over, and would then have the pleasure of watching her suffer with her need while they stayed at the party. But that wasn't how the night was going to unfold; she'd already decided to play along, and so had made the decision to wall off that part of her that would otherwise have been embarrassed. Something about the costume and what it implied was really getting to her; Kelly had decided that she was going to be sinful for him tonight. To really embrace the role and be his plaything for the party. She'd show herself off for the other guests to please him. That would drive him crazy, she knew, and show him that he didn't yet have complete control over her.

He spread her legs slightly apart and began to rub her clit in earnest. When she pushed his hand away, he only smiled and sat back in his seat, adjusting himself so that his erection was less obvious. "Ok, we'll play it your way then."

She smiled back at him. Round one to her.

+++

At length they arrived at the party, a lavish four-story brick townhouse just outside the city. Corm took her arm and she exited the limo, taking great care to keep her legs discreetly placed so as to keep any passerby from seeing her thong. He led her up a small flight of stone steps to the front door.

The evening was warm and he kissed her under the porch light, moths fluttering about around them.

"Kelly," he said, looking deep into her eyes. His stare was intense, and disarmed her. She could feel her resolve to tease him evaporating under its power. There was just something about him that consumed her. And, the truth was, she didn't mind one bit. For reasons she didn't fully understand yet she trusted him. Totally. She knew it had only been three weeks, but she knew it was right somehow. She just knew. Corm was hers every bit as much as she was his.

He kissed her again, to break the spell. Her lover understood the effect that his gaze had on her and used it ruthlessly to arouse her passions.

"What?" she managed at last, blinking several times to regain her composure. She was going to tease him this evening, regardless of whatever efforts he might make to the contrary.

"We need to fix your costume before we go in." Fix her costume? Why? She'd worn everything in the box and had adjusted it all in the mirror before leaving. Her costume was perfect.

Corm knelt before her and quickly reached up under her ruffled skirt. Before she could so much as protest he stripped her thong off and tossed it into the bushes behind her. He stood and kissed her once more. "There, let's go."

In one swift move, he had utterly disarmed her. All semblance of her composure was utterly gone. Her plans to tease him were destroyed. Cheeks burning with embarrassment – he had done this at the very crest of the doorway, after all – it was all she could do not to turn and run.

Round Two to him.

+++

Numbly she followed him in, stunned at what had just transpired. Sure, she had planned to play the part, but this was too much. The ruffled skirt barely reached the top of her thighs. If she bent in any way she would be fully exposed. Granted, she had the mask on, but he would soon be introducing her to his friends. What would they think of her?

And yet…on some level she was turned on by the idea of it all. She had the mask on, so no one could see her. But all these men would be looking at her, admiring her long lean legs and drooling over her lush breasts. She knew that they would want to be with her, to touch her. To fuck her. Corm had taught her that. In the three weeks they'd been together he'd been reorienting her to the realities of her sexual self. That part of her that had been locked away was now slowly coming to the fore. It would take time, to be sure. Three weeks ago she would have run, blushing at the thought of strangers seeing her so exposed. But for now she was confident enough to follow him into the party.

As she moved through a crowd of admiring glances she began to savor it.

The crowd was an eclectic mix of costumes, ranging from the very chaste to the risqué. Kelly a stunning Indian beauty dressed as a harem girl, her secrets barely hidden beneath layers of silk; she also saw a hulking man dressed in the very type of toga costume Corm had spurned, his chiseled muscles visible and suggestive. All in all, it was an adult party to be sure, but so far one that was behaving itself.

In short order, he was passing her around to a small group, introducing her to a gathering of old friends and their spouses: Liam and Cate; Jay and Trisha; Ted and Angela, and lastly his old friend Will. This final member of the circle was quite striking, a tall well-built man dressed as a bullfighter. Kelly couldn't help but notice that his costume hid nothing, and found herself staring at his rather prodigious manhood. Finally she tore her gaze away and looked up, only to see him smiling knowingly at her.

Corm kissed her cheek, "Watch out for him. He's a ladies man par excellance. Turn your back on him and you'll find yourself waking up next to him."

Kelly shook her head. "Mmm…I only want to wake up next to you."

He kissed her on the lips in response, "That's my girl. Now go mingle and have fun before I bend you over right now. That skirt is killing me." She blushed in response and turned to the bar to get a drink.

Behind her she could hear them all chatting, catching up on old times, mutual acquaintances and the like. From what he had told her, this group rarely met, usually only once a year at these costume parties.

After an hour of chitchat, she leaned in to order her latest drink, slightly dizzy from the heat and the martinis. They'd been out on the dance floor, expressing their mutual attraction with their bodies, and dancing up a storm with the small group The bartenders gaze flicked to her ample cleavage and took a long slow look, before coming back to meet her eyes to take her order. Kelly smiled. She didn't care; her system was warm with alcohol and good cheer.

The evening was turning out to be a great success. Even now, for example, she knew that Will would be glancing at her behind, straining to catch a glimpse of her bare bottom, tormented by the fact that he didn't know whether she was wearing panties.

Just to torment him, she stood on her tiptoes and leaned way over to receive her drink. She could hear a groan and smiled. Poor man, she thought. He was terribly attractive, though. Out of her league, she would have guessed a few short weeks ago, but now…tonight, she felt like she was out of his league.

"Will Wendy be joining us this year?" Corm asked from behind her. Did she hear a note of excitement in his voice? Or was it just her imagination? With over a hundred revelers in the room the noise was considerable, but Kelly swore she heard a note of interest from her.

Who could that woman be to elicit such a response?

+++

"She's already here," said Cate, a redheaded cutie dressed as a cowgirl. Cate leaned into Liam and giggled like a little girl with a poorly kept secret, "you should see her. She's really outdone herself." Cate's voice was teasing, and Kelly could feel the certainty of that teasing tone begin to grate.

"Oh really?" Corm asked.

There. She could hear it in his voice. Corm was definitely interested in this Wendy woman. Why? Waves of doubt hit Kelly all at once, draining away some of the buzz she'd been carefully maintaining. Was this Wendy so spectacular that Corm wasn't interested in her anymore? Had he really brought her to this party only to discard her for some old flame?

"Really." Ted spoke with conviction, even if he was laughing.

"You'll see. She's hard to miss." Cate lapsed into another fit of giggles, dizzy with champagne and pending surprise.

Kelly turned with her drinks in time to see Wendy make her entrance. And what an entrance it was.

+++

Striding toward them was an Egyptian goddess. The crowd literally parted in her wake, the men drinking in her beauty, while the women in the room wore a range of expressions, ranging from amusement to envy to lust.

Barefoot save for the tiniest sandals, the vision before them was clad in white linen wrapped tightly around her body. The wrap began at her feet, and rose to caress the curves of her hips before ending just below her ribcage in a band of dark blue. Kelly was quite certain that when the light struck her just so, she could see that the goddess was nude beneath the linen.

Long, straight black hair hung down in the classic fashion, and an ample torque of gold and turquoise covered her collarbone. The woman's eyes – a deep green, Kelly noted, and heavily made up to resemble those of Cleopatra – smoldered with confidence and lust.

But it was her breasts that made the outfit.

High and proud, defying gravity to present the observer with an idealized version of a woman's natural charms, the woman's full breasts were dusted in gold, and her dusky nipples were erect and bejeweled with rubies. Her breasts were exposed to all, offered up as a work of art, a gift to the other revelers.

Unlike the other guests, the goddess wore no mask, and held her head high as she walked. Her hips swayed in their movement, a mesmerizing motion emphasizing her femininity. The woman took in her surroundings with the cool, imperious air of one born to rule. The attitude was every bit as much an accessory to her costume as was the banded ankh in her left hand.

"She always goes for authentic," Cate whispered in Kelly's ear from behind, seeing how the entrance of the final member of her party had captured her attention. Cate's hand ran lightly across the tops of breasts, causing her to shiver with pleasure. There was something simply wicked about the attention from the sultry redhead. No woman had ever touched her like that before, but this seemed to be a night of firsts.

Kelly turned, "Really? Always?"

The cowgirl before her nodded knowingly as she sipped her drink. "No matter how outrageous you think that costume is, bet your next paycheck she found it on some hieroglyph."

Kelly suddenly felt very cheap. Corm had dressed her like a maid. This woman, far more exposed than any other in the room, was dressed like a goddess, commanding the admiration of all.

How could a maid compete with a goddess?

The vision approached. Kelly felt herself stop breathing, and was glad of her mask, for it helped block some of her fears. That her costume was well above par with most of the female guests was of little comfort to Kelly. This woman had, in one bold stroke, upstaged every woman in the room.

"Corm, darling, where have you been? I've missed you so!" The goddess strode to Kelly's lover and kissed him on the mouth. To Kelly's horror, she lingered for just a moment, savoring him. He didn't exactly return the kiss, but he didn't refuse it either.


Kelly felt a hand slide around the small of her back. She looked over slowly, not wanting to drag her gaze away from the kiss. Will stood beside her, smiling as he sipped a drink with his free hand. "They're old friends, you know. They were lovers in college and have stayed in touch ever since. She lives in Los Angeles, last we heard she was doing voice-overs and the odd bit of acting. Wendy always does something outrageous at these things."

Corm headed to the dance floor, linked arm in arm with the Egyptian goddess. Kelly watched her walk away, her hips swaying back and forth beneath the rippling white linen in such a seductive fashion that even she found it appealing. It was an intoxicating combination of grateful poise and claw-the-sheets-off-the-bed heat; one couldn't help but look at it.

The woman simply exuded sex.

And Corm seemed enraptured by it.

"What kind of party is this?" Kelly asked at last, incredulous. This couldn't just be some kind of costume party. Not with Wendy dressed like this. It couldn't be. None of the other guests seemed to take her costume as off color, even if they were clearly enraptured or intimidated by it.

This?" Will sounded puzzled. "This is a costume party we've all been attending for years now. It's thrown every year by a group of us with similar interests. We just enjoy the opportunity to relax and enjoy ourselves away from prying eyes. I thought he told you that."

"But…but her costume…I mean…"

"Outrageous, I know. It's some of her best work to date. But a little over the top for my tastes." Will snuggled in a little closer to her, and despite herself, she enjoyed it. Knowing that this handsome man found her attractive did much to assuage the growing sense of abandonment.

"Come on, let's get another drink." Will's hand pressed into her, turning her away from the sight of her receding lover and his old flame. She let herself be led away, confused and yet slightly aroused.

+++

Two strong martinis later she was leaning against the bar, watching the dance floor. Corm and Wendy were locked in each other's arms, grinding into one another with the beat.

Will's hand was resting lightly on her lower back, tracing lazy circles, occasionally skirting down to caress her ass. She didn't mind. It was actually making her quite aroused, and with the buzz she had it was all she could do not to drag the man off into a dark room and fuck him stupid.

His hand dropped down to cup on full buttock in earnest. Aroused, she pressed slightly back into his palm. He responded by running his hand across to the other cheek, lingering for just a moment at her tailbone, just long enough to give her a clear understanding of his intentions.

She sipped her drink and watched her lover dance with another woman, savoring the feeling of being caressed in such a public place, and yet marveling at it all. Here she was, intimidated that her lover was toying with another, even as the caresses of a stranger were stoking a heat in her that she didn't think possible. Could it be that she was such a creature of her lusts? She'd thought that only Corm could generate that fire within her. And yet, now here she was, her naked sex drenched with desire.

Will slid one finger down between her cheeks to rest lightly on her asshole. Kelly mewled softly and began to push rhythmically back into him. In response he slid the finger farther down, running it across her wet, swollen labia. The sensation was incredibly, a dipping motion that began high and descended into sheer pleasure. Occasionally he would push into her pussy as he finished the route. This had the effect of making her bend slightly at the waist to accommodate him. She marveled at his touch; her body was on fire from it all.

Kelly turned to look at him, and saw that save for his hand beneath her skirts, Will was the very portrait of a disinterested guest, leaning back against the bar, watching the crowd. Only the solid bulk of his erection beneath the matador's breeches betrayed his true intentions. He saw her looking at him and met her gaze. Like her own, his eyes were clouded with desire.

Cate leaned in from her right, and cupped her chin to lightly turn her head away from Will. "I am going to go dance," she said, "do you want to join me?"

Kelly shook her head weakly, and tried to say something coherent, but between the alcohol and the delicious torment of Will's finger, she couldn't manage anything beyond a shuddering, "Huh uh uh…"

A Cheshire-cat grin appeared on the cowgirl's face as she glanced behind Kelly and saw Will's arm snaking out from beneath the pleated skirts of the costume. Cate leaned in and kissed Kelly on the lips; a long, wet kiss that she found surprisingly arousing. As they embraced, Cate's hand ran lightly up Kelly's thighs to sneak under the ruffled skirt and apron. She gasped with pleasure when she found Kelly's naked sex beneath, and smiled when she broke away from their kiss. "You are a naughty girl, no wonder Corm is so taken with you."

"He is?"

Cate's fingers danced across her clit, sending shivers of pleasure through her body. "Oh yes, it's all he talks about."

"But I thought…uh…Wendy?" She was finding it hard to concentrate. That part of her – that deep-seated part of her that only came out when properly aroused – was coming to the fore. She knew that it would consume her in short order, and lead her to trouble. If she couldn't contain this need in her she was going to leave with Will.

Kelly tried to summon up a last bit of self-control, to throw up one final barrier between her true-self and her slut-self.

She almost made it.

Just as she was regaining some measure of composure, Will pushed one long finger into her ass. Kelly exploded forward into Cate's waiting arms, the orgasm crashing over her with a surprising intensity. White noise filled her ears and the party was washed away in a lusty haze.

+++

Cate continued to stroke her in earnest…til she could see a glaze receding from Kelly's eyes. She was fairly certain that the woman couldn't hear her, so obviously consumed by lust as she was. Corm had told her about this moment, and had given her precise instructions. Cate leaned in and whispered them into Kelly's ear.

+++

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, suddenly, Kelly shot upright out of Cate's embrace, her eyes wide.

Cate nodded. "Go, claim what's yours."

Kelly kissed her on both cheeks. "Thank you."

She turned to Will, "Another time," she murmured into his ear. Her fingertips danced across his turgid cock. He quivered beneath her touch. "Another time, and I will be yours for an evening."

He smiled and kissed her lightly on the lips.

Kelly turned and strode out onto the dance floor. Her lover was there before her, grinding to a thrumming beat with the newcomer. Their bodies were entwined, moving as one. She could see how aroused Wendy was. Thin trails of sweat had cut their way through the golden sheen of her breasts, and the rubied nipples were hard and erect.

She moved in, slipping into the beat with both, and ran her hands down the woman's back, savoring the curvature of her spine. Her own lusts, so recently released at the bar, were ascending once more.

Kelly pulled Wendy to her, crushing her laced bodice into the bared breasts. Before the woman could protest, she kissed her hard, nibbling on her lips and pushing her tongue into the goddess' mouth. Wendy resisted for just a moment before eagerly returning the kiss. With her free hand she lightly twisted one nipple, and was rewarded with a gasp. As the woman backed away in surprise, Kelly turned to her lover.

"We're leaving now, Corm. Bring your Egyptian whore if you want, but you and I are leaving." His eyes widened in surprise at this, and she could see Wendy throw a possessive arm about his waist. It didn't matter. She was certain.

Kelly leaned forward and kissed him lightly, nibbling on his lip, ignoring the presence of the golden woman beside them. "I want you to fuck me. Tonight. Here and now if you want" She breathed the words into his ear, running her tongue along with them to emphasize her point.

The alcoholic sheen of it all made this easy, allowed her inner slut to come to for and do what she wanted to do.

She ran her hand down his hard stomach to rest on his cock. It was stiffening even as she spoke. Kelly gave it a gently squeeze, "I want to watch you push this cock deep into my wet pussy and then make me beg for release. And then I want you to cum all over my face while I suck you off."

To her pleasant surprise he shivered at that. Seeing her victory was imminent, she pressed home, "Do you know what this costume does to me? It makes me want to serve. It makes me want to get down on my knees before you and beg for your touch."

He nodded silently as she continued. "But you knew that when you picked it out. You knew it would suit me."

He grinned, pleased with her confession, and tormented by her hand gently stroking him beneath his tunic. Beside him Wendy smiled knowingly at her. Kelly ignored the woman, too intent on seizing her prize.

"You found me that afternoon, Corm, and you freed me. You know that I am a slut, that all I want is to get fucked by a big cock. You claimed me. Now take me home and make me beg for that cock. Make me beg for your cock. Make me call you Sir."

He shuddered as she began to stroke him in earnest, there in front of all those people. A small circle had formed around them, women leaning on their lovers, watching intently, some touching each other, aroused by her brazen display.

Corm smiled in surprise. "My God, woman, who are you and what have you done with my Kelly?"

"I am your Kelly. But this is what this costume does to me." With a flourish she pulled off her mask, revealing herself to everyone.

There were a few gasps from the far edge of the circle. She looked up sharply to see a man dressed as a boxer lean down to whisper something to a buxom blonde dressed as a nurse. The two caught her glance and tipped their glasses in salute. Kelly smiled back; she knew who they were, but that would have to wait for now. Corm was hers tonight.

She kissed him lightly on the lips, releasing his shaft as she spun around and strode toward the door. When she was a few feet away, she bent to smooth on stockinged leg, exposing herself to him, letting him take in the full site of her shaved pussy, glistening with arousal. Approving murmurs washed over her. That knowledge alone – that this crowd of strangers found her so appealing, was itself arousing.

Kelly stood and smoothed her skirt. She looked back at him, "Take me home now." He excused himself from Wendy's embrace and walked over to take her hand. Corm led Kelly out of the party without another word.

Round three to her.

+++

She took him into her mouth to the fullest extent she could, marveling in the way his thick shaft filled her. His hands were entwined in her curls.

The head of his cock brushed against the back of her throat, but she did not gag, for he'd been teaching her to suppress that reflex. Kelly could taste herself on him, and she loved it, even as it reminded her that scant seconds before he'd been driving into her from behind, crushing her body into the plush seats of the limo with every thrust. Her pussy fairly throbbed with excitement.

"You did so well. I am very proud of you." She couldn't speak of course, so she slid one hand up to gentle cup his scrotum, and with the other reached down to toy with her own swollen clit.

"Wendy can be intimidating, I know. But there was never any contest. I made her mine years ago. And then let her go. Tonight was about you."

Kelly pulled back, scarcely hearing him as she swirled her tongue roughly across the swollen head of his cock. He moaned and twisted his hands.

"What do you mean," she asked, looking up at him. "Tonight was about me how?" She took one long lick up the length of his shaft, savoring the taste of him and the throbbing flesh at her command.

"If you are going to go down this path with me and truly become mine, I need to know it's something you want." He released his grip from her curls and leaned back. "I put Wendy in play to see if you would come claim me."

She paused. "So if I had done nothing, or if I had gone off with Will or Cate, what then?"

"They were working on my behalf too, I asked them to prepare you."

"Prepare me? I was so buzzed and horny that I could barely focus." He throbbed in her hand, and she began, almost absentmindedly, to stroke him.

Corm smiled. "Exactly. Your inner slut was ascendant, totally in control. And it was precisely that aspect of you that I needed to test. I know the shy woman who walks around every day wants to be with me. But what I needed to know was whether that part of you that is ruled only by your desires could give itself to me in its entirety."

"So you were testing me?"

"From the moment we left your house."

"Why?"

"Because I am going to take you places you can't imagine. I am going liberate that inner part of you that is ashamed of your sexuality. At the end of it, you won't even remember a time when you weren't wanton and hungry, eager for pleasure. But if I am going to do that, I need to be certain of your intentions."

"But I hunger so." She bobbed down again, taking the full length of him in her mouth again, reveling in the feel of him in her. At last she withdrew again. "See? What I said at the party is true. I do need this."

"I know. That's why I had to be sure. Sure that you could control your hunger and channel towards a worthy goal."

"What goal is that?"

"To be mine and mine alone. My lover. My concubine. My slut."

She shivered with pleasure and licked the length of him again, pressing his cock against her cheek as she looked up at him.

"And if I had failed?"

"Then you wouldn't be mine. You'd simply be like so many others: a creature of your appetites. You'd be like Wendy. I trained her as I intend to train you, but she couldn't control herself, and so she failed. But tonight showed me that you're better than her, stronger. You're worthy of being mine." He pulled her up and into his arms, seating her so that his cock was flush between the wet labia of her pussy. Outside, streetlights whipped past them, hinting at the speed of their return to his house.

"I'm yours? Really?" Her voice trembled; she was nervous, those parts of her that still believed this was all a fun fling for him suddenly rampant.

He hugged her to him, and then rocked forward, plunging his fullness into her. She moaned with pleasure as he began to slowly fuck her. It really was all she wanted, to be fucked, fucked by him.

He kissed her on the lips, watching her eyes begin to cloud with passion. "Until you decide otherwise."

Could he be for real? She had to find out.

"Then take me, Corm. I want to be yours."

Round Four and the Match to him.

mistressjessca21
 
 Age: 23
 New york, New York