Former Princess

I knew I was going to need more help on this whole dom/sub thing. I asked the saleslady if she had any magazines that would help me get started with this whole scene. "Nothing too extreme," I requested with an embarrassed grin.

"Of course,!" She quickly picked out a couple of magazines and a video, as though she knew the entire store's inventory. "This stuff will help you get started, and if you have any questions, just call me personally," she said. Then she smiled coyly at me. "I'm always here. I'm Miranda, and this is my store."

I grinned broadly. "I may just take you up on that. I have the feeling I'll have plenty of questions. Thanks, Miranda."

As I left the shop, the two guys who had been looking at videos also whistled at me. I grinned and headed towards my car. Just as I reached my car, a man shouted from across the street, "How much, baby?" It took me a minute to realize that he thought I was a hooker.

I jumped in my Jag and pulled away, when I was overcome with a fit of the giggles. This was actually fun, in an unexpected way. Even though I was following "orders," I had an overwhelming sense of freedom.

It took another twenty-five minutes for me to find Aaron's apartment building. I drove up to the garage entrance and inserted the card he had left for me into the reader. I parked on the second floor and had to walk down a flight of steps to get to the lobby. There was only one other person in the lobby, the security guard. He looked up at me, and his eyes were immediately glued to my tits. After a ten second hesitation, he said, "Yes, ma'am?"

"I'm here to see Aaron D'Alero."

"And your name, ma'am?" he asked my breasts.

I told him, blushing, and he called Aaron's apartment to announce me. He directed me to the elevator, and said, "Mr. D'Alero's apartment is 312. Just take a right off the elevator."

I reached his apartment, and stood outside for a moment, gathering my courage. I had no idea what to expect once I went inside.

I rang the bell, and Aaron answered a few seconds later. He didn't speak for a moment, instead he just looked at me. His gaze began at my eyes, moving down over my barely covered body, and back up again. He met my eyes again, and smiled. "Come in, Heather. I knew that dress would suit you."

"Thank you. I hoped you'd like the way it looked on me," I said. He looked so good that the very sight of him made my pulse quicken. He was wearing charcoal gray slacks and a wine colored sweater that nicely complimented his dark hair and eyes.

"It may cover more of you than I'd like, but it wouldn't do to have you getting raped on the city streets." He leaned over and kissed my cheek. "Welcome to my home. Come in, and let's talk a bit before we start your education about our game."

At his mention of the game and my education, I felt a rush of apprehension mixed with excitement. It was a powerfully intoxicating combination of emotions.

He led me into his apartment, and I looked around, impressed. It was a large, welcoming apartment decorated in subtle, soothing colors. The artwork on the walls was tasteful and interesting, and one entire wall of the large living room was lined with polished wood bookshelves that were filled floor to ceiling with books. The room was attractive and desirable, just like it's tenant.

He directed me to sit on a butter-soft beige leather sofa. I sat, and I was acutely aware of how much my dress rode up as I did. I fidgeted, pulling at the hem, trying to cover a bit more of my exposed thighs. Aaron smiled at me with amusement. "Are you having trouble getting comfortable, Heather? How about some champagne to help relax you?"

I nodded, and he went into his large, open kitchen. I could see him pulling two champagne glasses from the cupboard, and I was impressed as he disappeared behind a cabinet, and reappeared holding a silver ice-bucket with a bottle of good champagne already in it.

He sat the glasses side by side on his wood and glass coffee table, and popped the cork on the bottle. He quickly poured us each a glass, and returned the bottle to the ice bucket. He handed a glass to me, and sat down on the opposite end of the sofa from me.

He raised his glass, and said, "Here's to the beginning of what I think will be a stimulating and satisfying friendship. To our game."

"To a stimulating and satisfying game," I agreed, and touched my glass to his. Our eyes were locked together as we tasted the champagne.

"All right, Heather. Before we begin, we must choose a word or simple phrase for you to use if for any reason you need a break in the game. It should be a somewhat uncommon word, something that isn't normally used in everyday conversation. Does anything come to mind?"

"Let me think for a second", I said, my mind racing to come up with something appropriate.

"I have an idea," he said, "what's your favorite color?"

"Pink," I replied automatically.

"And your favorite flower?"

"Carnations."

"Then the phrase will be, pink carnations," he said, while reaching over his side of the sofa where I couldn't see. He smiled at me, and he lifted a single pink carnation from where he'd had it hidden. He presented it to me, and I took it almost reverently, as if it were made of pure gold.

I grinned, amazed. "How did you know?" I asked.

"I asked your brother, Gerald, isn't it? Nice young man."

"Thank you. It's a very thoughtful gesture."

"I'm a very thoughtful man, Heather. Please remember that my love of the game of dominance and submission doesn't nullify that."

"I will, Aaron," I said breathlessly.

"And now, Heather, one other thing. When we begin the game, you are to address me only as Master. I will call you whatever I wish, most likely either 'slave' or by your name. Do you understand?"

"I understand," I said. Somehow the thought of calling him Master seemed perfectly appropriate. And the thought of hearing his voice calling me slave excited me.

"Good. You have the safe phrase. I'll teach you many, many other things as we progress. Are you ready to begin, Heather?" he asked, his dark eyes probing into mine. I sensed that he truly cared about my level of readiness.

My pulse rate sped up. Time to take a trip into the unknown. With anticipation and trepidation, I answered "Yes, Master." It sounded good rolling off my tongue.

His eyes were shining and the corners of his mouth turned up in a wicked grin. "Very good, slave. Relax, have another sip of your champagne."

I did. I drained the remainder of my glass, savoring the chilly tartness. I felt myself relax further, and I looked at Aaron. I raised my eyebrows, my expression asking, "What else?"

"Stand up, slave. Your new Master wants to get a good look at you."

I obediently stood and faced him.

"Now take your dress off, slave."

Breathing faster, I pulled the dress off over my head and laid it across the arm of the sofa. He stared at my body with undisguised lust. I almost felt physically touched wherever his eyes passed over me.

"Now the panties, slave. I want a closer look at my new pussy."

With only a second's hesitation, I answered, "Yes, Master."

I stripped the panties off. He stared at my pussy. His pussy. I gazed down and looked at it as well. I could see the dewdrops of moisture collecting on my labia.

I had never stripped down and stood naked like this in front of anyone before. I was mildly embarrassed and I could feel my face flush.

"Part your pussy lips with your fingers, slave, so I can see inside." His intense brown eyes were now locked on my face, as though he were measuring my reaction.

I took a deep breath, and with trembling fingers, I reached down and spread my labia for him. I could feel the lubrication that my body was producing in increasing quantities.

Aaron leaned forward for a closer look. He observed my exposed pussy as though he were examining a fine work of art, and that he was trying to memorize every detail. I squirmed under his intense scrutiny.

"Play with your pussy for me. Show your Master how you pleasure yourself when you are alone."

I could feel my face burning with embarrassment, but I complied. I began rubbing at my clit, which was slippery and wet. It felt good, and despite my embarrassment, I sighed contentedly.

Aaron smiled at me. "Very good, Heather. I know by the blush on your face that you're embarrassed. But I can also tell that you enjoy touching yourself, and that your distress only heightens the sensations. Am I right, slave?"

"Yes, Master. You are right." It was true. I rubbed my clit harder.

Without warning he reached out and shoved his index finger deep inside my pussy. I gasped at the unexpected intrusion, the moaned at the unexpected jolt of sensation. "Very tight. Very nice," I heard him murmur.

He began slowly sliding his finger in and out of my well lubricated hole, and I rubbed my clit faster. All sense of lingering embarrassment was obliterated by sexual lust.

I was nearing orgasm, and he knew it. He withdrew his finger and said quietly, "Stop touching yourself, slave."

I reluctantly stopped rubbing my aching clit. I looked at him questioningly. My legs were weak with desire and my head was spinning dizzily.

"One important rule you must learn early, slave, is that you may not come until I give you permission to do so. You will get off when it pleases me, and not before. Do you understand?"

"That will be difficult, Master, but I will do my best." I wasn't at all confident in my ability not to come when he touched me like that, but I was willing to give it my best shot.

"Good, slave. Please sit back down. I want to ask you some questions, and I want you to answer me honestly."

I sat, briefly glancing over at my dress drape across the arm of the sofa. I felt more exposed just sitting there in my stockings and shoes.

He smiled knowingly. "Slave, you will be naked in my presence a great deal of the time. I wish to look at what is mine. Tell me now if you object to that."

If he wanted to look at my nude body, then so be it. Right now, I wanted what he wanted. "If it pleases you to look at me, Master, then it pleases me also." I thought that sounded like an appropriate response.

He beamed at me. "Very good, Heather," he said softly, encouragingly.

I grinned back, my heart beating excitedly in my chest.

"I talked to Miranda at the shop," he said. "What did you think of fiesty little Miranda?"

"I liked her. She was very nice and very helpful."

"Ah, yes. She told me that she sold you some literature related to our game. Shows your initiative to learn to properly please me. I like that. So did Miranda make a pass at you?"

"Um, no. She told me I looked good and that you would be pleased with the way the dress looked. She offered her help if I had any questions. That was it."

"Tell me, slave, what would you have done if she had hit on you? Made a pass at you?" He was intently staring at my face again.

"I don't know. I've never been in that situation before, Master. But I'm not really attracted to women," I replied.

"You've never even kissed another woman?"

"No, Master, I haven't."

"Would you kiss another woman if I told you it would please me if you did?" His tone was probing, serious.

I felt that he was testing me, gauging my level of commitment to our game. I paused only briefly, quickly measuring my own comfort level. "Yes, Master, if it would please you for me to kiss another woman, then I would do it."

"All right, slave. And if I asked you to suck another woman's tits, to feel her nipples hardening in your mouth, would you do that, also?"

My stomach rolled with my newly found companion emotions of apprehension and excitement. This one seemed much easier. Somehow the notion of sucking a woman's tits seemed less intimate than kissing her. I had to admit it would be interesting to feel another woman's hard nipples in my mouth. "Yes, I would suck another woman's tits to please you, Master."

"How about if I asked you to eat Miranda's pussy, slave? Would you still obediently do as I tell you?" His dark eyes were locked to my face. I felt like he was trying to read my mind.

I had feared that he was leading to this. I so badly wanted to do as he asked and gain his favor, but I didn't know if I could do that. I tried to picture myself licking Miranda's pussy, and my mind resisted the thought. I squirmed in my seat, unsure, afraid of his reaction if I said no.

He could see my obvious discomfort. "I will give you some time to consider that, slave. Instead, answer this. If I asked you to allow Miranda to lick your clit, what about that? Would you please me that way?"

I swallowed hard. I hated to admit that I thought I would enjoy that. I loved having my pussy licked, and I knew that if I was aroused that I probably wouldn't care if the tongue were male or female. I also realized that if I allowed Miranda to eat my pussy, and not to reciprocate, then I would in a certain way be a hypocrite. Good enough to get, but not to give.

"Answer me, slave," he said, his tone commanding.

"Master, I would allow Miranda to eat my pussy, if it would please you."

"Would it please you, Heather?" he asked.

My face burned with embarrassment. "Yes, Master, it would. I love having my pussy licked," I admitted through clenched teeth. I don't know why that was so hard to admit, but I seemed compelled to tell him the truth.

He grinned broadly at me, and his smile was infectious. I smiled back.

"Of course you do, slave. There's nothing like a hot, wet tongue, whether you're a man or a woman. It's nothing to be ashamed of. And neither is giving the gift of your mouth and tongue to another man, or a woman."

He stood, and stepped in front of me. "Unzip my pants, slave, and take my cock out."

It was a quick turn of events, but I didn't hesitate one bit. With trembling hands, I opened his pants, and I was momentarily stunned by the sight of his huge erection bulging at the seams of his briefs. The plum-like head poked several inches out of the top of his underwear.

I gasped at the lovely sight and smiled up at him. I slid his briefs down, exposing his rigid cock in all it's naked glory. I gasped at his impressive size, and I took his cock into my grip. I moved my gaze from his erection back to his face, and said, "How may I please you, Master?" My voice was husky and shaking with excitement.

"Suck it, slave. Lick it, and suck it. I want you to get the whole thing into your mouth. Show me what you can do with your mouth."

His frank request sent a pleasant shiver through me. I leaned forward, and put my lips around the head of his cock. I ran my tongue over it, moistening it. This was the first time I'd had him in my mouth and I relished it.

I opened my mouth wider and swallowed several more inches of his rod. I felt his hands tangle in my long blonde hair, pulling me in closer.

I pulled back, sucking as I went. I could feel every bulge and vein of his cock sliding through my lips and under my tongue. I loved it.

I opened wide and moved forward again, forcing more and more of his cock into my mouth and down my throat. I tried hard to get all of it in, but I didn't quite make it before my gag reflex kicked in and I pulled back again.

"Relax your throat," he whispered. "This time it goes all the way in. Just relax and suck my whole cock down."

I relaxed as best I could and went down on him again. I just kept swallowing and swallowing, taking his huge dick in deeper and deeper. I moaned with lust, with my mouth full of him. He grasped my head and pushed the last remaining length of his cock into my mouth.

I was astonished. My nose was buried in his pubic hair, and I wasn't even gagging a little bit. On impulse, I reached out and stroked his full balls, causing him to moan with surprised pleasure.

He gently stroked my hair, and abruptly he pulled almost all the way out of my mouth. I instinctively knew that he was going to thrust his hips and push the length of his cock into my mouth again, and I forced myself to relax in preparation.

When he drove forward, I easily sucked down his entire cock. I shivered excitedly at my accomplishment. Soon he was rhythmically thrusting his cock into my mouth and I was swallowing and sucking it with wild enthusiasm.

I could taste his precum on my tongue, and I liked it. I wanted more.

Suddenly, he pulled back all the way, and I groaned with disappointment at the sudden departure of his swollen cock from my eager mouth. I had never wanted something so wantonly as I wanted to have his cock buried deep in my throat as he came.

He lifted my chin with his fingers, moving my gaze from his erection to his intense face. "You're very good at this, slave. You love this, don't you? Swallowing a nice hard cock?"

"Yesss Master, I do. I've never swallowed a cock as large as yours before, but I've always loved it anyway." Once again, I felt my face flush with the intimate admission.

He leaned forward slightly and tapped his throbbing cock against my wet lips. I started to open them, and he pulled away again. "Does it make you feel like a slut, sucking cock? Having your face fucked? Loving it so much...does it make you feel like a slut?"

I had never thought about it that way. It was true, though...I did love the carnal nastiness of it. It was a thrill to depart from the 'good girls don't go down' school of etiquette. I guess the sluttiness of it did appeal to me.

"Yes, Master. Sucking cock does make me feel like a slut. And I like it." The words sounded so surreal, being spoken in my own voice. I had just admitted that I liked feeling like a slut, liked swallowing cocks. Another of my nasty little secrets saw the light of day. Instead of feeling embarrassed, I could only stare longingly at his cock.

"So, slut, is this what you want?" he said, reaching down and idly stroking his cock.

My immediate reaction was to say, "Oh yes, Master. I want to suck your cock."

I saw his eyes darken and I realized my mistake. "You must learn to think before you speak, slave. Your role in our game is to please me. What you SHOULD want is whatever I want."

"I'm sorry, Master," I stammered. I was so overcome with lust and wanting for his cock that I had momentarily forgotten my part in the game. I had made a mistake. I regarded him imploringly.

"I believe that you are sorry, slave. But I believe I would be hampering your education as a submissive if I allow you to even momentarily forget your place. I think your lapse warrants a punishment to reinforce the lesson."

His handsome face was stern. I felt a mild current of fear run through me, but I forced it down. This was the game I had agreed to. I had the choice of accepting my punishment or to call a halt to the game. I took a deep breath, and said meekly, "Yes, Master."

I thought I saw his face soften ever so slightly. "Get up on all fours up on the couch. Rest your weight on your elbows, so your lovely ass is sticking up in the air."

I complied, and I looked nervously over my shoulder at him. I forced myself to keep breathing slowly and evenly, to keep my fear in check.

"I am going to spank you now, slave. Five swats. And during the punishment, I want you to think about your proper role in this game. My pleasure is your primary concern. Any pleasure I give you in return will be of my choosing."

I met his eyes. "Yes, Master. Your pleasure is my primary concern." I prepared myself for my spanking.

The first swat landed with a mild sting. The second landed in the same spot on my left cheek, and it stung twice as much. I gritted my teeth and tensed my body in preparation of the third swat.

The third swat this time was directed at my right cheek, and the fourth landed in the same spot. Now both of my ass cheeks were stinging. I wondered where the fifth swat would go. Before I had time to even guess, his hand swatted he across the exact same spot on the right cheek. That one caused me to jump and whimper slightly.