NylonParty: Christmas Initiation

"Why are you all dressed up?" she asked.

"I'm going to a gala," I answered, still telling the truth.

"Well, you look amazing," she complimented. She added, "I see you're wearing nylons on your own accord."

"It's a very upscale gala," I answered, again truthfully.

"I'm not sure white is the best colour for your complexion," Mom said critically, looking at my legs.

"I know," I agreed, but didn't say anything else. What could I say? Actually they're the perfect colour to let all the women know I'm a bi-curious girl hoping to eat some cunt. Instead I added, realizing she was still in the hallway, "Come in, Mom."

I turned to lead her inside and Mom asked, as she followed, "A seam down the back of your stockings. Very nice."

Oh, shit. I covered, again keeping the illusion alive, "I thought they would look more sophisticated."

"I agree," Mom nodded, turning around to show me the backs of her stockings, "I have them too."

I let out a small gasp as I tried to recall what beige stockings symbolized: submissive I believe, and the seam means she will obey any order. I couldn't help but smile at that. She was definitely submissive in her stereotypical Wisconsin housewife role and my father was the boss. And likely, now that I thought about it for the first time ever, Mom was likely also subservient in the bedroom. Like mother, like daughter. "Nice," I covered.

I glanced at my watch, worried that whoever was picking me up could arrive at any second.

"Are you leaving soon?" she asked.

"A few minutes," I admitted.

"Oh, I'm so sorry to have intruded," she apologized.

"You couldn't have known," I said, worried someone was going to come to my apartment at any second.

"What's the gala for?" she asked.

"Women's equality," I answered, again technically not a lie.

"A Me Too thing?" she asked.

"I think so," I said, not sure if that had any part in it, but the two basic concepts were certainly complementary.

"Can I come?" Mom asked.

"I'm afraid I only have one pass," I said, also true. Although I couldn't fathom my mother attending a licentious event like this one.

After a lengthy pause, as a sly smile gradually crept across and conquered Mom's face, she asked, "What if I already have one?"

"Pardon?" I asked.

"I'm the one who recommended you," Mom revealed.

"What?" I said. I mean I heard her, but I wasn't sure I heard her... if that makes any sense.

"I'm a founding member of NylonParty," she said.

"No way," I said, my head spinning with the revelation.

"Did you know there's a secret society of women back home who have been slowly growing in numbers for decades?" Mom asked.

"What kind of secret society?" I asked, trying to process my mother's words and also to learn more, as every straight-laced thing I thought I knew about her shattered before my eyes.

"That's complicated," she answered, as she glanced at her watch.

"Do we need to go?" I asked.

"Pretty soon," she said.

"Are you a lesbian?" I asked, just throwing it out there.

"No, but I'm not completely straight," Mom admitted.

"This is crazy," I said.

"I know sweetheart," she nodded, pulling me into a hug. "But I felt it was important for you to become a part of this growing movement."

"Why?" I asked, even though I was excited to be a part of it.

"Because you're like me," she answered.

"I am?"

"Yes, I know you're a feminist and I know you want to be part of the revolution."

"You're a feminist?" I asked, not really perceiving her in that role.

"I grew up in a different time," she said. "We each have our role. Mine was to be behind the scenes building a growing network of women who wanted to be more than housewives."

"Oh my God!" I gasped, as I suddenly realized the obvious. "So every Tuesday night's bridge night?"

"Female gatherings," she smiled.

"With sex?" I asked.

"Sometimes," she admitted.

"Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!' I repeated, this more shocking than anything else leading up to right now.

"Sometimes I scream that, too," Mom smiled wickedly.

"So the beige stockings are for the gathering?" I asked. "You're submissive?"

"Yes," she nodded, before adding, "Most of the time I'm the one making other women scream 'Oh my God!'"

"Oh my God!" I repeated, the idea of my mother being a submissive lesbian still unfathomable.

"I'd love to tell you more, but your other sponsor is waiting for us," she said, adding one more surprise to a week full of them.

"I have another sponsor?" I asked. "Who is it, grandma?" I remembered she had often picked up my mother for 'bridge nights'.

Mom responded, "She heads her own chapter back in Oakfield."

"No way," I said.

"But no, she won't be accompanying us tonight. You'll meet your other sponsor in a minute, she wants to surprise you. Let's go," Mom said. "We have the rest of our lives to help you discover your family's past."

"Surreal," I said, as I followed my mother out of my apartment building.

Outside was an actual limo. I asked, "What other secrets are you hiding from me?"

"Many, but there'll be time to catch you up about your aunts and cousins later," Mom said. Was she implying incest? No way. As we reached the limo, she asked, "Ready?"

"As ready as I will ever be," I said, dying to know who was concealed behind that door and the tinted windows.

Mom opened it and beckoned me to enter first. I took a deep breath and did, and found myself staring at Professor Cooper, my psychology professor.

My mouth literally dropped open and I audibly gasped.

"You look delicious, Hannah." Professor Cooper was dressed in a beautiful black cocktail dress and matching black nylons, which I recalled meant Mistress or Domme, although I couldn't recall which was seam and which wasn't.

I stammered as I processed the obvious, that my other mystery advocate had been my psychology professor. "Y-y-you recommended me?" It was asked as a question even though the answer was obvious.

"I did, Hannah," she nodded, before adding, "Well, we did. Your mother and I go way back. I hope you don't mind," as Mom entered behind me.

"No, not at all," I shook my head in awe. Professor Cooper was my favourite professor, teaching my favourite subject. She was also very pretty and someone I had even masturbated to a few times during this semester... although I had never fathomed she might be a lesbian... I mean I knew for sure she was married, she mentioned her husband often when she was discussing psychological manipulation using real examples. After a pause, I asked, completely bewildered, "Why me?"

She smiled at me warmly, like she did so often in her class, "For a few reasons."

"I can't imagine," I said, overwhelmed again.

"That in itself is part of the reason," she said. "You're sweet, innocent and so cute."

"Thank you, Professor," I said, flattered, feeling my cheeks burning.

"Tonight, you must address me as Mistress," she corrected.

"Yes, Mistress," I responded, the term 'Mistress' flowing naturally off my tongue as I glanced over at Mom sitting beside her.

"Another reason is that you obviously believe in the cause," she continued.

"That I do," I agreed, knowing exactly which cause she was talking about. I then asked, "But aren't you married?"

"I am, Hannah," she nodded, "and that is what makes the NylonParty so great. Its discretion is critical, and it's for both single and married women." She glanced significantly over to my mother.

"I see," I said, still in awe that tonight my Professor was to be my Mistress (did that include sexually?) and the obvious implication that my mother cheated on my Dad and had been doing so for years. Should I have been mortified? Likely. Was I? No. Society was changing, and I wanted to be part of that change.

"Mistress Valerie and I went to college together," Mom explained, as I noticed Mom called her Mistress too.

"You went to college?" I asked. I never knew that.

"Just for a semester," Mom said. "Then your father got me pregnant with you."

"Oh," I said, realizing I was to blame for her quitting college.

"It wasn't your fault," Mom said, noticing my obvious guilt. I had always been hopeless at hiding my emotions.

"I know," I said, knowing I wasn't part of the decision that led to my creation... I was just a consequence of that decision.

"Your mother was my submissive that first semester," Mistress Valerie revealed, Mom looking slightly embarrassed by the revelation.

"Oh," was all I said. No doubt I was like my mother, and there was lots of evidence that Mom was a submissive. Like me, her personality was built on the foundation of making others happy. But a lesbian submissive... that was, before the revelation, completely shocking.

"And occasionally ever since," she added.

"You two still get together?" I asked.

"Rarely," the Professor admitted. "But we plan to make up for lost time, don't we, my pet?"

Mom wasn't ashamed like I thought she'd be as she answered, "Yes, Mistress, Christmas has come early."

"And often," my hot professor, my new Mistress, answered, the innuendo as obvious as it could be. "By the way, you look amazing," she said as she checked me out.

"Thank you," I said flattered. "You do too."

"Have you fantasized about me at all this semester?" the Professor asked.

"Are you wearing nylons?" I asked, trying to be playful in my response.

"What did you fantasize about?" she asked.

"Truth? Being seduced by you," I admitted.

"Mmmmmmmm," she smiled. "And you have never been with a woman, correct?"

"Only in my fantasies," I answered, before adding, "in those I'm a submissive slut who services a variety of women."

"Well, tonight may be a real treat for us both," she said.

Mom finally spoke, "Tonight honey, you're welcome to explore the party however you wish, and you're under no obligation to do anything."

"Although if you do elect to explore those fantasies, I expect to be a part of it," the Mistress Professor told me.

"I definitely want to explore," I quickly clarified. "I mean I've been fantasizing forever, and I've been a horny mess ever since I got the invitation."

"Like mother, like daughter," my new Mistress teased.

I glanced at Mom who smiled at me proudly, affectionately, and with a hint of shyness. We had always been close, and yet I now realized there was a whole side I didn't know about her. Of course, there was a whole side she didn't know about me either... or did she?

The limo came to a stop and Professor Cooper announced, "We are here."

"Ready, Hannah?" Mom asked.

I should have been nervous, but I wasn't. My only feeling was anticipatory butterflies. "I've never been more ready for anything in my life."

"Like mother, like daughter," Professor Cooper repeated her litany.

"I wasn't eager at first," Mom countered.

"You were once you tasted my cunt," Mistress Valerie corrected with a smile.

"And ever since," Mom agreed, looking at me.

"Yes, I know you've been quite the eager beaver in your community," Mistress Valerie said, as the limo door was opened by our driver.

I wanted to hear more, but events were rushing ahead.

We were led into what could only be described as a mansion.

I was star struck.

That would continue during the next forty minutes of cocktails and appetizers.

I had never seen so many beautiful women of all ages in one place at one time.

Blondes, brunettes, redheads and some of the flashier colours such as silver or lavender.

White women, black women, Asian women, Hispanic women, Indian women, Muslim women. Every race and ethnicity seemed to be represented in this mosaic of feminine beauty.

Girls who looked barely old enough to be here, to women who were clearly grandmothers, and all ages in between.

Each woman dressed in a gorgeous gown.

Each woman radiating beauty.

Each woman displaying her sexual preference via the nylons she wore on her legs.

And like life itself, nothing was as it seemed.

First, if you were on the outside looking in, this would look like a simple female gathering. Drinking, snacking and chatting.

Yet, underneath the civilities was the reality that every women here was stepping away from her regular life; the reality expressed by the colour of her nylons.

I saw a woman in her sixties, looking thin and fragile, wearing black nylons with a seam down the back... meaning she was a Domme, I couldn't fathom that; a girl who looked to be in college was also wearing black nylons with a seam down the back. The two women were easily over forty years apart, and yet you could tell something about them was indescribably similar in addition to their telltale stockings.

Quite a few women, a couple dozen or so, were wearing red nylons... most without a seam, indicating they were experienced lesbians.

There were only a few pairs of pink nylons, three I think, two being quite young and the other probably in her thirties. Each was offering the rest of the women the opportunity to pleasure them without receiving any reciprocation. All three intrigued me, as the idea of pleasing was at the heart of my sexual curiosity tonight.

There were also a couple dozen plus women in blue nylons, which shouted to everyone in the know that they were very kinky lesbians. Truth be told, my endgame goal was probably to become a kinky slut. I wanted to trib with a girl, I wanted to be fucked with a strap-on, I wanted to be dominated, I wanted to try anal, I was curious about being fisted (although that scared me) and the idea of a lesbian orgy was cunt-gushingly exciting.

There were a large number of women in beige nylons, like my mother, women who were declaring to the others they were natural submissives. Most of them had a seam down each leg, signalling they were complete submissives ready to obey any woman, any order, without hesitation. A few didn't have a seam, indicating they were curious about their own submissiveness. Mom, of course, had a seam. I suspected that after tonight, that may very well be my next choice, beige with a seam, as well. Blue was a possibility for further along my journey.

Lastly, there were seven or eight girls in the same colour as mine: white. Every girl in white nylons had a seam down the back. They were lesbian virgins, curious and likely willing, even eager, to explore. Like me. Most had the look of college students, but surprisingly a couple seemed to be my mother's age.

Over a dozen women here were celebrities of some sort:

-Musical icon from the eighties Sarah Sleeve, in black nylons but no seam: a Mistress. That would explain her bondage hit Mistress of Black.

-CEO of Elegance Stockings, Carolyn Adams, also in black stockings, also without a seam, who had become a worldwide name when Governor Greene endorsed her stockings and most other celebrities in the world followed suit (or stocking... haha).

-Elegance Stockings popular spokesperson and most searched female in the world Pam Thomas, her most recent three movies each grossing over $100,000 on opening weekend; she however, was in beige stockings with a seam. The idea that the most famous actress in the world and I had something in common was exciting.

-The wife of the mayor of Boston, a woman in her fifties, in blue stockings. I had seen her face on television many times and although her husband's politics weren't mine, seeing her here with her kink on intrigued me.

-Another wife: of the star pitcher of the Boston Red Sox, although I couldn't recall her name, was in red stockings. Experienced lesbian.

-Model Aria Andelle, a Norwegian beauty, was in beige stockings too. A model who wore nylons in every shoot she ever did. I had read it was actually in her contract. The only exception was for swimsuit shoots.

-Candace Campbell, a princess in the British Royal Family, was also here. Dressed in pink nylons, a pillow princess, which seemed rather appropriate for a woman in the royal family.

-Mercedes Carlos, the wife of a notorious drug runner in Mexico was here and chatting with Candace Campbell... I couldn't even fathom what their conversation might be about. Mercedes, not surprisingly, was in black nylons with a seam: a Domme.

-CNN news reporter Fiona Vanderbuck was in beige nylons like she appeared in every day on national television. She too had become a spokesperson for Elegance Stockings and was another woman I looked up to. One of my possible career choices was journalism, and she had been one of the first women to speak out publicly about the sexual harassment epidemic.

-BBW talk show host Sylvia Saunders was dressed in black nylons as well, with a red seam down the back. I'm not fascinated by race sexually, but there was always something intriguing about black women. They commonly had a confidence that turned me on, made even hotter to me because of the horrible dark past their race had been subjected to, and in many ways, still was. She was the 2018 Oprah, another prominent woman I considered heroic.

-Asian Canadian rapper She-Dog was chatting with Sylvia and was dressed in beige stockings. This made me smile. In the porn I watched, and in the erotica I read, black women were often portrayed as dominant and Asian women as submissive, and here was a real-life example that stereotypes are sometimes correct.

-Rich outspoken socialite Samantha Summers was also here. I wasn't surprised to see her in black nylons although I would have loved to see her in beige. She was a complete bitch in the social media and seemed to bounce from scandal to scandal with each one only making her more notorious and newsworthy.

-Beside Samantha Summers was one final surprise: ex-Disney television star Laura Madison. She was the sweet girl next door celebrity. A rare Disney star with no scandalous past and no suddenly slut behaviour the minute she'd left Disney. She was also dating the biggest heartthrob in the world at the moment. Yet here she was, in beige nylons, like my Mom, with a collar around her neck attached to a leash being held by Samantha Summers. It was both shocking and hot.

Truth be told, I wanted to be owned like that.

To be claimed.

To be someone's submissive pet.

To be seen as someone's submissive pet.

Maybe, just maybe, that was to be realized tonight.

As I perused the litany of beautiful women, never able to spot Governor Greene, I had two drinks... both of them fruity ones that tasted amazing.

I nibbled on a couple of appetizers.

Mistress Valerie and my mother introduced me to a variety of women, including a few of the celebrities. Both Carolyn Adams and Sylvia Saunders gave me a hug and welcomed me to my first-ever female gathering. For each of them I was overcome with awe and shyness, and I was barely able to stammer out replies to their gracious words.

A few women in a variety of coloured stockings seemed to be eyeing me up. I realized I was fresh meat. A term I never fathomed embodying... especially at a female party, yet I was in the minority... a lesbian virgin advertising herself as willing, and I sensed there were quite a few women here who would be more than willing to help me surrender my V-card.

Including one of the pink nylon pillow princesses who whispered in my ear that she would be in Room Nine all night.

At five to seven, a large black woman welcomed us, introducing herself as Mistress Rosie. She greeted, "Welcome ladies, to the first ever NylonParty."

Loud cheers.

"We are honoured to begin here in the home city of Le Chateau Club, and the birthplace of soon to be President of the United States, Daphne Greene."

Loud cheers, claps and hollers.

"And she will be arriving in a little while to address you all," Mistress Rosie continued.

More cheers.

"So I'm not going to give some lengthy speech. No, I want you to shut off your outside brain, give yourself entirely to the evening and live by the greatest motto ever: Carpe diem."