Dawn of Dawn

A soft golden tone rang out.

Again the woman hit the bowl, somewhat harder this time. Again, the note filled the garden. I could see white-clad figures some distance away turn and begin walking towards us, bare forms in sun hats following them.

Louder still, a third note echoed across the open area before Alexa put down the wooden rod. Her guests arranged themselves casually. Beside and behind each one stood one of us. Alexa smiled and sat down, one of her own girls helping her with her chair. Once she was seated, the men followed her example and the conversation started again.

Alexa's women began to serve. Three brought plates while the fourth, inside the circle, offered a choice of wines.

"Dawn," He said, pointing to a space by His right hand, between He and the next man. Obediently, I stepped into the space, noticing the other girls doing the same.

"No," He said. "Kneel."

I immediately knelt, facing Him, my back straight and my hands on my thighs. I had practised this position many times and began to feel less confused. This was familiar territory.

The meal was a light one. He took several bites, then selected a small sandwich from His plate and offered it to me, holding it in front of my mouth with His fingers. Obediently, keeping my hands where they were, I leaned forward and took a small bite, chewing it thoroughly before swallowing. He followed by holding His goblet of wine in front of my lips; I took a sip, smiled to express my gratitude.

A problem became apparent however. My hat was broad enough that its rim was well over the table. When I bent forward to accept the food, its brim almost brushed His glass. I could have moved away, to one side, but that would have meant that He would have had to twist to feed me.

"Take it off," He said.

I lifted the hat from my head and shook out my hair. I looked around to see where to put it. As my head turned, I saw that I was one of only two of the women had been permitted to join their owners. The rest remained standing.

A glow of pleasure overcame me at this public demonstration of His consideration -- and, of course, my worth.

Those women still standing kept their faces properly passive, but I knew they were envious.

They became more so when His hand not only continued to feed me, but began to stroke my hair in a loving gesture.

Every so often, His hand came to rest on my breast, fondling it and caressing my nipple. To have my desirability so acknowledged in public, to be so rewarded in front of everyone present was, I felt, a deep honour. It was only with difficulty that I could keep from blushing.

Obedient to His will, under His fingers, I could feel my nipples hardening again in the sun.

The men and Alexa continued their light conversations. I tried not to listen in, for such things were none of my business.

The meal concluded quite informally when Alexa stood up. Most of the men took that as their cue. A couple, including Him, remained sitting for a moment. He finished His champagne, stretched a little and rose to His feet. I of course stood up too, recovering and replacing my hat and taking up my proper station behind Him.

"That was lovely," He remarked to nobody in particular, dropping His napkin on the table.

"I think I would like to stretch my legs," He said. Without waiting, He started strolling down one of the paths, one leading away from the house. I followed. The scent of the flowers filled the afternoon air and I permitted myself a slight smile.

The sun was warm on my skin, but hardly oppressive. As we passed by the arch, He paused for a moment, then circled the blindfolded girl spread under it, clearly admiring what He saw. Smiling, He continued His stroll.

Approaching the outer hedge, well away from the others, He suddenly stopped.

"Inspection," He ordered. I immediately complied. I was puzzled, but it was not mine to question His will.

"Close your eyes, Dawn" He said.

I could sense Him move around me, hear His feet on the path. I felt His warm, strong hands -- hands of Pleasure, hands of Pain - on my bum, sliding over my skin, squeezing, lifting. Squatting behind me, His thumbs separated my cheeks. A long finger stroked my sex. I was proud that I was able to stand quite still, my face impassive.

I sensed Him moving to stand in front of me. His hands cupped my breasts, thumbs again played with my nipples. I could feel them grow harder under His stimulation. I didn't gasp when His finger penetrated my sex, from the front this time, but I did take a slightly deeper breath as I struggled to maintain my composure.

What was His intent?  I wondered. Sometimes He took pleasure in in the simple act of touching me. Often enough, having placed me next to Him or across His lap, He would fondle me for hours, as one might pet a particularly favoured housecat.

Was He initiating sex? I had no idea what was the custom at such events -- not that it was my place to do anything but comply. I had never had sex with Him in public and, despite nobody being immediately near, this was about as public as one could get in such a place.

I opened my eyes, just a crack, for a second. I could see by the state of his trousers that He too was aroused. Was it His intention to take me here, on the grass?

Or was He trying to arouse me sexually for some purpose entirely?

I was confused.

And very turned on. He knew which of my buttons to push.

He was an expert.

Quietly, He gave me an order. Obediently, I knelt, reached forward and pulled down on His zipper tab. The sound of it was surprisingly loud.

Reaching inside, I extracted His manhood and sac, carefully shielding them from the zipper teeth with my fingers. He was almost hard. I could feel His balls twist under my fingers as His sac rose, tightened.

I leaned forward. Again my hat brim got in the way, brushing against His stomach. He said nothing this time, but I knew He liked to watch me attend to Him, so I removed it, set it aside and returned to my task.

I ran the tip of my tongue along the underside of His length. It slid over my tongue, His masculine scent filling my nostrils. It twitched, grew in girth and length.

And again. As I licked Him, my fingers gently rolled His sac and its tender contents, squeezed gently, pulled and stroked.

His hand came down on the back of my head, caressed me in return. I felt a glow of satisfaction.

He was soon fully hard, His crown taut and swollen, His sac lifted tight against His body.

I stopped licking, took Him into my mouth, began to suck, working my lips back and forth over His shaft, taking Him deeper and deeper into my mouth. Above me, He gave a deep sigh of pleasure.

I pulled back, swirled my tongue around His head, shifted one hand to the base of His shaft and began pumping, lightly but rapidly.

I could sense His enjoyment, feel his orgasm approaching.

"Stop." His voice was gentle, but firm.

I was surprised, given how close He was, but knelt back, waited for a further command. This wasn't totally unprecedented - at home, He would on occasion have me pause after stimulating Him, leaving Him to move about His activities with a full and often glistening erection. From time to time, He would call me to again suck and lick Him. Sometimes it lasted for an hour; sometimes He would have me finish Him off in just a few minutes.

He had never explained and I would not of course ask. I sometimes thought he enjoyed simply being erect, demonstrably male, so perhaps it was no more than that. I also thought that His leaving His hardness exposed like that was an unspoken but unmistakable statement of our respective positions. Perhaps it was merely being the recipient of such service He enjoyed most of all. Then again, he almost always liked to prolong, to delay, to extend. Maybe...

"Put it back."

As I had suspected.

I carefully -- not without some difficulty - replaced His parts inside His trousers, carefully refastened the zipper. The bulge in His clothing was obvious. I was worried for a moment that I might have allowed a bit of saliva to spot His clothing, but was relieved to see that it was merely shadow in a fold of cloth.

Straightening His jacket, He looked down at me. "Fetch your hat, Dawn. Let's go."

Settling it into place, I followed, still wondering. The effects of His caresses were still there; my nipples clamoured for His attention, my sex felt heavy, swollen, aching to be filled. Yet it was His decision to make, not mine and I tried hard to compose myself as we walked.

In due course, He selected another path leading us back towards the central fountain.

As we approached the stone arch, I admired the back, buttocks and legs of the girl so publicly displayed under it. While not stretched uncomfortably tight, her bonds were tight enough that one could easily see the firm muscles under her perfect skin. It was obvious that she exercised arduously.

To my surprise, instead of circling around, He stopped just behind her.

"Come here, Dawn," He directed. I took two paces forward to stand by His side.

He circled the girl, openly admiring her. I followed.

After a few moments of examination, He stopped, directly in front of her.

"What do you think, Dawn?" He asked, His voice low.

He had never before asked me to comment on another's girl and I had no idea of how to reply. I was in totally uncharted waters. I thought quickly, tried to come up with a neutral comment.

"She's very pretty."

"Isn't she?" He said. "You may examine her if you wish."

I realized that it was a command, not permission, but touching another without her owner's approval was so highly unusual that I must confess that I broke discipline and training to look at Him for confirmation.

Recognizing my uncertainty, He smiled reassuringly.

"It's OK in this case. Go ahead."

I again circled the girl, who was standing with her head up and chin proudly out now. The ends of her hair moved softly in the gentle breeze. Her makeup was flawless. I examined things most men would not, including finger and toenails. I found only more perfection.

I looked back to Him. "Make that very  pretty," I said.

"Touch her, Dawn." The words were soft, but still a command. "I want to see you handle her, fondle her. I want to watch you caress her as if she was a new lover."

I had thought I was beyond blushing, yet instantly felt my skin turning red. Yes, I had been partnered on occasion with other women, ones in collars, for His and His friends' entertainment. And yes, once past my initial awkwardness under those circumstances, I had certainly enjoyed it.

But this was something different. I wasn't sure of my footing now.

I again looked at Him for guidance.

He smiled again, gently, and I felt my heart beat faster. How I loved Him! He had raised me so high!

"Do it," He repeated.

Turning back to the captive, I combed my fingers through the thick blonde hair laid over her shoulders, locked my fingers together and pulled her face towards mine. Bringing her lips to mine, I slowly slid the tip of my tongue between them. Appropriately, she opened. I was pleased to note that she turned her head towards me to make it easier. It was a positive reflection on Alexa's training. Our tongues teased and played with each other for a moment, then, reflecting that He could hardly see what was happening, I broke the kiss. Lifting her thick hair with both hands, I draped it over her shoulders behind her to fully expose her breasts, then stepped slightly to one side so He could see better.

This was, after all, for His pleasure.

I ran my fingertips over the flawless skin of her face. My hand trailed down her back, fingers on either side of her spine, down to her deliciously soft-yet-firm buttocks. Stepping closer, I squeezed them in both hands. Beneath my touch, the girl shivered for the first time.

Kneeling behind her, I took my hat off, laid it carefully to one side. I parted her buttocks still more, ran my tongue through the top part of her crease and onto her lower back. She tasted of soap and salt.

I repeated the move, again felt her body shiver under my hands.

Leaning back, I ran my hands along her legs, my thumbs trailing down her soft inner thighs. I could feel her long muscles tense just a little under the stimulation. I continued down her calves, lingered over slender ankles.

I rose to my feet as gracefully as possible. From the corner of my eye I could see His faint smile of approval and pleasure.

I stepped around, stood in front of her. Suddenly I wanted to see her eyes. I wanted to watch them as I caressed her, wanted to see how they changed as she approached orgasm, wanted to see her soul within them.

"May I remove her blindfold?"

He paused for a long moment. "Yes."

I slipped it off, placed it carefully on her hat. Her eyes were a brilliant blue. She blinked in the sudden brightness, then lowered them modestly.

It occurred to me that I was now, to one degree or another, playing a superior rôle to this girl. Names are important; they give power.

"What is your name?" I demanded.

"Ingrid," she whispered, her eyes still properly lowered. I didn't give her my name.

"Look at me, Ingrid. I want you to watch me. I want you to look me in the eyes." I now understood why Alexa had done so on the patio on our arrival.

Instantly obedient, her blue eyes moved to mine.

I leaned in, slowly licked her neck along her jawline on one side with my tongue tip. When I leaned back, Ingrid's eyes were wide -- with, perhaps, surprise.

Was this was a new situation then for her, too?

I stepped half a pace closer, felt our breasts touch, then press gently into each other's. I reached up and grasped her outstretched arms as high up as I could reach, slid my fingers gently down towards her shoulders. As I did, I leaned in, brushed my lips against hers. Her breath was sweet.

I leaned in further, drifted my tongue tip between her lips. Her eyes opened even wider, but her lips parted obediently. I trailed the tip of my tongue over hers.

Tied though she was, acknowledging the command implicit in my kiss, she bent her head towards me and leaned into it. Her eyes closed as my hands toyed with her heavy breasts. I could feel her nipples growing taut as she gave a quiet sigh of contentment.

I pulled back, broke the kiss. "Open your eyes," I said. They opened, only an inch from mine, and I leaned forward again, slid my tongue tip over the roof of her mouth.

While my hands flowed down her flanks to her hips, I pulled back, turned to Him where He was leaning against the inside of the arch an arms-length away. I was still not entirely sure about where this was going, but thought He wanted my impressions.

"She's a very good kisser," I said.

"I noticed." While His trousers were still taut, His smile was gentle; I thought I had pleased Him.

Turning back to the girl, I saw her eyes had followed mine to His. Grasping her jaw, I turned her head back towards me, firmly but gently. Punishment for such lapses was not mine to give.

"Look at me,  Ingrid."

I stepped back half a pace. Watching her eyes, I moved my hands up from her hips, slowly over her stomach, grasped her full breasts from underneath. My hands were filled with womanflesh, hefty, firm and yet so very soft.

Shyness and embarrassment were not for women of our sort and I watched her eyes turn soft under my caresses. I could see her pleasure at my gentle touch -- and her need.

I stroked her nipples with my thumbs; they responded by getting harder, more prominent.

"She's quite responsive," I said to Him. He made no reply. We are, of course, expected to be responsive. I was only stating the obvious, confirming the certainty.

Leaving one hand moving back and forth between her nipples, I again slipped the other across her stomach, softly but firmly enough to avoid tickling. It slid down further. I reached down as far as I could go, trailed my fingertips slowly up flawless inner thighs.

While her lips were properly silent, her eyes, locked on mine, nevertheless shouted her arousal. I could read the desire in them as clearly as if Alexa had hired a skywriter for the party.

I reached down again, deep between her stretched thighs, trailed three fingers over her sex -- a finger on either side of her labia and my middle finger between her lips.

Without turning away from the girl's eyes, I held up my hand for Him to see the glistening ladydew on my finger.

"Very  responsive," I said to Him.

"She is," Alexa said, from directly behind me, "isn't she?"

I started, not having heard her approach. Apparently, He hadn't either, for, with a shrug of His shoulder, He pushed Himself off the arch where He had been leaning. Smiling, He waved His hand towards Ingrid and me.

"You were asking me where I found mine!" He exclaimed with a broad smile. "Perhaps we can trade notes sometime!"

Alexa smiled at Him; white teeth perfect in their symmetry. Then she turned to me. "Continue," she directed. "I wish to watch, too."

He nodded slightly from beside her.

I nodded in acknowledgement. Bending forward, keeping my one hand teasing Ingrid's sex, I bent my mouth for the first time to those taut, firm, demanding nipples. As I rapidly flicked the first one with the tip of my tongue, I sensed Alexa move behind me, as if trying to get a better view. Without lifting my lips from the girl's breasts, I shifted my body to one side to make it easier for her to see.

"Thank you!" she said, almost surprised. I felt a warm glow for an instant, then realized the woman was thanking Him for my efforts, not me.

Proper. Perfectly correct.

I pulled back my face to look Ingrid in the face. Her eyes were still open, staring into the far distance in the absence of any further directions. She was breathing a bit faster; her nostrils were a little dilated.

That was permitted.

I bent back to her bosom, began sucking her rigid nipples into my mouth, nibbling gently on them with my teeth. One, then the other, then back, all the time slowly trolling the depths of her womanhood with now-slippery fingers.

The girl gave a slight groan of pleasure. I tensed, waiting for either He or Alexa to notice. Apparently, they had not. I straightened up, leaned in to within inches of Ingrid's face, again caught her gaze. I took both nipples between my thumbs and forefingers and squeezed them, not painfully, but firmly enough that the girl understood the reproof.

Our pleasure was created by our masters and mistresses for their own pleasure and was theirs to grant or withhold as they pleased.

The look in her blue eyes registered that she understood her mistake and, saying a mental prayer of thanks, I again bent my lips to her breasts.

I broadened my efforts, swirling the breadth of my tongue over and around first one and then the other.

After some time, I knelt between her legs. Her marine odour was clearly noticeable over that of the garden's trees and flowers.

With both thumbs, I delicately spread her outer lips, leaned in, swept the very tip of my tongue the length of her opening, up over her protruding clitoris. I could feel her legs grow rigid, but the girl remained commendably still.

I darted my tongue in again, dipped it into her honey, swept it broadly over her full sex. There was a barely-perceptible tremor in her legs.

I felt Alexa's hand touch me on my bare shoulder. I stopped, turned back to look up to her. Her other hand held her crop, its loop now off of her wrist.

"Try this," she suggested, holding it out to me.

I would not, of course, ever dream of questioning, of disobeying a command, but I was utterly shocked. Yes, it was my responsibility at home to polish His crops, my collars and the various other equipment and toys He kept for me, but never - not once - had I ever been presented them to use. I knew it happened, but...