Former Princess

My name is Heather Elaine Maxwell, and for most of my life, I have been a princess. I am from a very wealthy family who has never said no to anything I've requested. I have been granted every whim and wish just as if I had my very own magic genie in a bottle. I have attended the finest schools, and all my friends have been similarly wealthy, privileged princes and princesses.

I am beautiful, and have surrounded myself only with other beautiful people. I have lived in a mansion, and have had paid servants attend to my every need. I became angry and petulant if anyone ever dared to suggest that something I demanded wasn't truly a necessity.

Despite all that, I wasn't truly happy. I didn't know how unhappy and unfulfilled I was until I met Aaron D'Alero on my twenty-first birthday, almost exactly one year ago. He helped completely change my perspective about my life, my attitude, everything.

Now I am no longer a princess. I am now a perfectly content sex slave. This is a story about my transformation from a well-to-do brat into a plaything, desiring only to please and satisfy my lover, my Master.

* * * * *

I awoke on the morning of my twenty-first birthday to a soft rapping on the door to my room. I grumbled and pulled the bed covers up over my head. I wasn't ready to get up yet.

I heard the telltale squeak that told me the door to my room was opening. "Heather, dear?" came my mother's sing-song voice. "Darling, it's time to get up. We have so many things to do before the party this evening."

I pushed the covers down with a sigh and regarded my mother sullenly. She looked her part as queen of the castle, perfect as usual. Mother was a well-preserved forty eight years old, a product of the finest care that money could buy. Not to mention that she was a walking advertisement for the most skilled plastic surgeons in the city of Chicago.

Even at this early hour, Mother was smartly dressed in a mint green linen suit, her short chestnut hair was meticulously styled, and her makeup was expertly applied. Not a wrinkle to be seen on her clothing, not a single hair out of place.

I yawned and said, "Mother, why on earth do I need to be up this early? The party doesn't start until seven this evening, and it doesn't take me THAT long to get ready."

Mother smiled patiently. "Well dear, I thought it would be nice if you could join the family for breakfast for a change. At eleven your gown is being delivered and you'll need to try it on, just in case any last minute alterations are needed. And at one o'clock, the decorators and caterers will arrive, and I'll need your help directing them as to how to set things up. At four we have the appointment to get your hair done. Now please get up, darling."

My first thought was to protest, but thoughts of the night's grand party sent a shiver of anticipation through me, effectively casting off any desire for further sleep. "Oh, all right, Mother. I'll be down shortly."

My mother left the room, quietly shutting the door behind her. I climbed out of bed, stretching like a cat as soon as I hit the floor.

I went to my private bathroom that adjoined my bedroom, and standing before the huge wall of mirrors over the sink, I pulled off the silky pink T-shirt and pink satin panties that I had slept in. As I waited for the shower to adjust to the perfect temperature, I stood before the mirrors, appraising myself.

I knew I had an excellent body. I was five seven, and weighed in at just under one hundred twenty pounds. My breasts were full and round, and my nipples were large and pink, the exact color of my favorite flower, pink carnations. My waist was slender, my butt was nicely rounded, but thankfully not large enough to give me the dreaded bubble-butt appearance. My legs were long and well toned. My hair was very long and naturally blonde, and my eyes were clear blue.

I ran my hands down my body as I studied myself. My fingers were long and graceful, and my manicured nails felt good as I gently scraped them along my naked skin. I stopped at my breasts and tweaked my nipples to full attention. I sighed with pleasure at the sensation, and admired the form of my erect nipples in the mirror.

My hands traveled over the flat plane of my stomach, and without thinking, I let one hand continue lower, through my blonde pubic patch. It was groomed into a perfect V of soft, downy hair. From the bottom of the V clear down to my anus, I was shaved completely smooth.

Someone had told me two years ago that David Kershaw liked it that way, and I had shaved that way ever since. At first I had done it in hopes that he would admire it personally, but I had continued to remove my hair down there because I just plain loved the way it felt. So smooth and silky.

Thoughts of David Kershaw urged my hand lower, until my fingers gently trailed over my sensitive labia. I could picture David's perfect face with his sensitive blue eyes, and his muscular, toned body. My fingers found my clit and lazily rubbed circles over it, hardening it instantly.

David. I had had a crush on him for years. But he had been inevitably tied to Marie Walsh since they were children, and they had gotten engaged the previous year. They were to be married in June, a little over two months from the day of my party. Theirs was the closest thing to an arranged marriage that was ever seen in this country. David's father worked for Marie's father, and the Kershaw family's livelihood and continued prosperity depended on a continued strong bond between the families.

It never occurred to me that David and Marie actually loved each other. In my mind, the only possible explanation for David choosing Marie over me was because his parents had forced him into it.

Tonight however, David would be attending my party, and Marie would not be with him. She was in New York visiting her sister who had just given birth to a baby girl. Tonight was my chance. David would see how beautiful I was and how much I wanted him, and tomorrow Marie would be a distant memory. Simple.

As my thoughts had wandered, I suddenly realized that I had rubbed my clit so much that now my fingers were slippery wet. I smiled. David's hands would be the next to feel my pussy get so wet, I was sure of it.

The sights of the steam rising from the shower prodded me out of my reverie, and reluctantly I pulled my hand away from my self pleasure. Time to get moving.

After scrubbing myself and shaving my legs and around my labia, I washed and conditioned my silky hair. I climbed out of the shower and quickly towel dried my body, and blow dried my waist-length blonde hair. I clipped it back away from my face, not bothering with curling it since I was having it styled for the party later in the day.

I put on a few quick touches of makeup, and back in my bedroom I dressed for the day in a pair of tan corduroys and a lightweight cranberry colored sweater. I felt energized. Thoughts of the coming evening and the possibilities it held, especially in relation to David, made me giddy with expectation.

I joined my family in the huge dining room for breakfast. The four of us, including Mother and Father and my younger brother, Gerald, sat around the vast mahogany table. I always thought it was silly for such a small group to sit around a table that was large enough to easily accommodate twenty people. We all clustered at one end so we wouldn't have to shout at each other to be heard.

My father was a perfect compliment to my mother, even though he was dressed more casually than usual in a pair of gray dockers and a cream colored turtleneck sweater. At fifty, he was still quite a handsome man. I loved his steel gray hair and his expressive hazel eyes. My brother Gerald was comfortably dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a Chicago Bulls sweatshirt.

Gerald was as excited as I was. Tonight's party was a double celebration. Today I was twenty-one, and in less than a week, Gerald would have his eighteenth birthday. It was to be a formal affair, black tie, with over sixty special guests. There was to be a cocktail hour with drinks and hor's dourves, accompanied by a string quartet. That was mainly to satisfy the older crowd. At 9:00, the quartet would be history and they would be replaced by a rock band that Gerald and I had chosen.

There would be dancing. Even though I'd had alcohol several times before, it was the first night I was legally able to have liquor. I couldn't wait.

We enjoyed a heavy breakfast, since there would be little time for food during the day's preparations. I savored my Eggs Benedict with an absolutely heavenly hollandaise sauce, plus a dish of fresh strawberries, my favorite.

My family spoke little during the meal, as usual. Most of the conversation was between my brother and I. Instead of being jealous when my little brother was born, I had always adored him. Gerald was very handsome, a younger carbon copy of my father. He had dark hair, nearly black, with the exact same hazel eyes as my father. His formative years of playing sports of all kinds had left him with a lean, lithe figure.

All of the young women in our social circle vied for his attention, and now that he was soon to be eighteen and about to inherit a huge trust fund, their efforts would only increase. I was interested to see which girl he would eventually choose, even though for the time being he seemed content to sample them all.

Later than morning my gown for the evening arrived. It was custom made for me, and when I tried it on I was exceptionally pleased. It was a flowing pink silk, off-the-shoulder gown, with a deeply cut neckline and a fitted waist. It showed off my figure perfectly. David Kershaw didn't stand a chance.

The day flew by in an endless flurry of details. Mother and I ordered the caterers and decorators about as preparations were made in what we called "The Great Hall." It was a gargantuan room half the size of a football field, with a black and white marble checkered tile floor. The walls were adorned with polished cherry wood wainscoting, and expensive paintings by many well known (translated-VERY expensive) artists. I especially loved the two large, sparkling crystal chandeliers.

Tables were set up and covered with white linen tablecloths, ready for the variety of hor's dourves to be set out. Huge floral arrangements were set up throughout the room, many featuring my beloved pink carnations. Part of the room was left empty as a dance floor, and rented leather furniture was placed throughout the remainder as informal conversation areas. A huge banner was hung as one end of the room proclaiming, "Happy Birthday Heather and Gerald."

My excitement mounted as the day progressed. I could scarcely sit still when my hairdresser arrived to style my hair. She styled my long blonde hair up off my shoulders, weaving tiny pink silk flowers and white strands of faux pearls throughout. The long ends of my hair were curled into hanging ringlets. It turned out wonderfully.

Finally it was time to get ready for the party. I slipped into my sensuous silk gown, loving the way the material clung to my body and caressed my skin. Underneath the gown I wore an ivory colored strapless bra and matching panties, and a pair of thigh high stockings. On my feet were four inch pumps, died to match the exact same shade of pink as my dress.

I viewed myself in my dressing mirror. Damn, I really did look hot. The gown hugged my curves, and the neckline showed just enough cleavage to be intriguing. I couldn't wait for David to get a look at me like this. I had excited butterflies is my stomach at the thought of what he might say to me.

I went downstairs, and there was Gerald is his black tuxedo. He looked awesome, and I told him so. "You look great too, sis. Ready to party?"

"You bet! I'm sooo ready to get this show on the road. Come on, let's go check out the Great Hall."

The Hall was perfect. A few minutes before seven o'clock, the string quartet began playing, filling the room with classical music. Mother and Father were impeccably dressed, she in a pale blue gown and he in a tux similar to Gerald's. We were quite the family portrait.

Promptly at seven the guests began arriving. The four of us took turns greeting them as they arrived and directing them into the Hall, where hired wait-staff carried trays loaded with flutes of champagne and an astouding variety of finger food.

When I saw David arrive, I was breathtaken by how wonderful he looked. He also wore a black tux, a crisp white shirt, and a black bowtie. I wanted him so badly. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself, and I rushed over to greet him.

"Well hello, David. I'm so glad you could make it to our party," I said, smiling brightly at him.

"Hello, Heather," he said and gave me a chaste kiss on the cheek. "Happy birthday!"

"Thank you! Promise me you'll save a special dance for me?"

"Um, of course. Excuse me while I go say hello to your parents."

With that, he was gone. I was crestfallen. He hardly seemed to have noticed me at all! He was polite, nothing more. I vowed not to give up so easily. The evening was just beginning, and I had the whole night to charm him. He was just being proper and saying hello to all his hosts...that must be it.

I went into the Hall and began mingling with our guests. My spirits were lifted as everyone told me how beautiful I looked. I had two glasses of champagne and felt slightly giddy.

I kept trying to work my way over to the group that David was with, but somehow, I kept getting intercepted by other guests who were paying their respects. Finally, I had a clear path to David, and I moved purposefully toward him.

Just as I was about to reach him, someone lightly tapped on my shoulder. I turned, and was face- to-face with an incredibly handsome man whom I'd never seen before. He was tall, in his mid-thirties, with dark hair and amazing brown eyes. His eyes held mine for a moment, then he bowed slightly at the waist.

My breath caught momentarily in my throat and I found myself smiling at him. This was one fine looking man. David was temporarily forgotten.

"Miss Maxwell, my name is Aaron D'Alero. I just wanted to wish you a very happy birthday and thank you for the kind invitation to your party." His voice was deep and captivating.

I hadn't personally invited him, but it wasn't surprising that I didn't know him. My parents were always inviting business acquaintances to these kinds of parties.

I took the hand he offered and said, "Why thank you, Mr. D'Alero. The pleasure is mine." I couldn't seem to tear my eyes away from his. His gaze was hypnotic.

"Your home looks magnificent, a fitting tribute to such a beautiful guest of honor. Would you honor me with a dance?" He tipped his head toward the dance floor where several couples were swaying to the music of the string quartet.

His voice resounded in my head when he spoke, and I swore I could feel it as well as I could hear it. The quartet was playing a slow romantic song, and I knew that I should turn down his offer for such an intimate dance, especially given that he was a total stranger. But I didn't. "I would be delighted," I said, and I meant it.

He gently took my hand and led me to the dance floor, where he turned and faced me. I stepped toward him, and he put one hand on the small of my back and took my hand with the other. I put one hand on his shoulder and lightly grasped his hand with the other, and we began moving to the music.

I looked up at his face, his strong, confident features. In fact, everything about him exuded confidence. He certainly possessed a commanding presence. I was instantly attracted to him.

I found my voice and asked, "Mr. D'Alero, I've never seen you before. I certainly would have remembered if I had. Are you new in Chicago?"

"I've spent a great deal of time in Chicago, but I've only recently moved my practice here from New York. My sister and brother-in-law live here. I moved here to be near them, and my niece and two nephews. They're the only close family I have."

"Your practice? Are you a doctor, or a lawyer?" I said with a smile.

"Lawyer. Corporate law. But please, don't hold that against me!" He smiled back, and I could feel my stomach tying itself into pleasurable knots. He had a most distracting effect on me. I was enjoying it.

We talked and danced, and I realized that we moved closer and closer together the longer we spent. After a while, we quit talking and just moved together. Suddenly we were pressed close to each other, and I was keenly aware of my pelvis next to his. I felt hot everywhere we were touching.

He was meeting my eyes with such intensity, that I had to put my head on his shoulder and close my eyes to clear my head. I was vaguely aware of the party going on around me. I was totally lost in the sensation of being close to this man.

I was brought back to my senses when he spoke again. "Miss Maxwell, I seem to be monopolizing your time. Surely you must want to get back to your other guests." He momentarily glanced in the direction of David Kershaw, as if he knew that my sights had been set on getting his attention.

I didn't want to quit dancing with Aaron, but propriety told me that he was right. "Mr. D'Alero, please call me Heather. And I do hope that we can dance again later." I was surprised at the suggestive tone of my voice. I was actually flirting with him! Totally out of character for me. Usually I'd wait until the man came to me. David had been the only man I'd ever pursued.

"And you may call me Aaron." Somehow it seemed that he was giving me more than permission to address him less formally. "I intend to be here for awhile longer. I'll see you again before I leave," he promised.

We parted, and I felt an instant sense of disappointment. I was amazed when I looked at the clock and realized that an entire hour had passed! For one whole hour I had forgotten about the party, the guests, and most importantly, about David! How unusual, and refreshing. Deep down, part of me knew that he was a lost cause to me, and had been for a long time.

My mother appeared at my side, and she gripped my arm. In a low voice she hissed into my ear, "Heather! What on earth do you think you're doing dancing so close to a complete stranger? So rude of you to ignore all your other guests."

"I'm sorry, Mother, I guess I just lost track of the time," I said distractedly, watching Aaron move through the crowd. I thought that he moved like a jungle cat, prowling and hungry.

"And I want you to stay away from that man," Mother said, "he's not for the likes of you. He's much too old and his taste in women is rumored to be, well, eccentric. Your father only invited him because he's a new attorney at your father's firm, and he's a very powerful man."

"What do you mean, his taste in women is eccentric? What does that mean?" I asked, my curiousity piqued.

"Never you mind. Just keep your distance from him," my Mother said firmly.

"I'm a big girl now, Mother, I'll make my own decisions," I replied, my tone challenging. If my mother was warning me off, then Aaron must be an interesting man indeed. My mother hardly ever took a stand on anything. It was obvious she was hiding something from me, and I wanted to know what it was.

She was about to say something else, when a friend of hers stepped up and began speaking to her. I moved away, grateful for the chance to escape before she lectured me any further. She shot me a meaningful glance as I walked away, and I wiggled my fingers in a so long gesture, smiling.

The quartet stopped playing, and the rock band began setting up. They began playing, music with a loud, driving beat. I was amused to see that the older crowd, mostly my parent's friends, began leaving in droves. Trying to play the proper hostess, I spent time saying goodbye and thanking them for coming.