The Legacy

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A mother's legacy, a daughter's trial.
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Couture
Couture
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"Delta house," the pretty brunette said as she picked up the phone. Her jaw working on a piece of chewing gum.

"Hi, may I please speak to Arianna?" Margaret asked. Margaret sat in her room, her feet kept warm by a heater kept under her desk.

"This is Arianna."

"Hi, my name is Margaret. Delta class of 76. My daughter is Stacy. Stacy Barnes."

"Oh sure," Arianna said. "What can I do for you?" Although she knew very well what the woman was calling about. It had been all according to plan.

"Well my daughter called me last night and she was quite upset. I know pledging isn't easy, but I must confess that I'm wondering if you are taking into consideration that -"

"That she's a legacy?" Arianna interrupted, her glossy red lips formed a straight line. "I know very well what she is. I also know that your circumstance was a little unique as a Delta girl. But, I'll tell you what, why don't you come here later tonight and we'll discuss Stacy. See if we can improve her chances. Do you think we can do that Maggie?" Arianna blew a bubble and popped it, waiting for the older woman to answer.

"Yes..." Margaret said, her voice coming in a squeak. She wondered what the young woman meant by 'unique' circumstance. Then the name. Maggie. No one called her Maggie since college. She had introduced herself as Margaret. It could be a lucky guess, it might be much more. She was no longer the confident business owner and mother of two, but an insecure pledge.

"Do you remember the rules Maggie? ...Not the Delta rules. But your special rules?" The young woman's eyes gleamed as she put the screws to the older woman. She had discovered the rules when reading a most salacious diary she had discovered in the attic. She had many an orgasm reading that diary. Now she was talking to the girl who had been written about. A girl - now woman, who had lived a submissive sexual existence during her time at the Delta house.

"Yes..." Margaret said. Her voice now in a whisper. This girl knew. She knew her long held secret.

"Then how should you address me?" the impertinent young girl said, her lips now turning up in a smile. Her gray eyes flashing with hunger.

"Yes Miss Arianna." Even on the phone Margaret could feel her cheeks growing hot.

"Good girl." Arianna said. "Can you be here tonight at eight? We can discuss your daughter then ... among other things. Maybe catch up on some old times."

"Yes ma'am." Margaret said submissively.

"I'll see you then," Arianna said, her mouth smacking as she chewed her gum rapidly, the blowing another bubble. "You should come prepared. I'm sure you remember your rules on being prepared. Don't you?"

"Yes, Miss Arianna," Margaret whispered, her loins growing hot as she remembered the rules.

"How about rule number one?" Arianna said. "Why don't you tell me about it."

Margaret gave a shudder. The girl knew everything. Every last one of the humiliating rules she was required to observe while she attending college. She thought about pretending she had forgotten, but it ever since Arianna first brought them up, it was as if she were transported back to her college years - young, inexperienced, and submissive. She rucked her skirt up under her hips and slid her hand into her panties, then began to rub. Expert circles around and around. The rules weren't just something that was recited, the rules were obeyed.

"Rule number one," Margaret said, her voice thick and husky. "A hot slut is an obedient slut." "Good girl Maggie. You do remember. Call me when you get to the house," Arianna said. "I'll let you in the back. No sense in causing your daughter embarrassment, is there pet?"

"Thank you Miss." Margaret said. Girl. She hadn't been called girl in years. It was even more humiliating now than ever since the girl calling her that was young enough to be her daughter.

"And don't forget rule number two." Arianna said before she hung up. "You remember that one don't you? Why don't you say it for me."

"A slut - must - have - permission - to - come." Margaret panted out the words. Not only was she trembling, she was sweating like a pig. Faster and faster her finger rubbed. Shit, she was so fucking hot. She could feel herself peak. Yet, before she reached the crest, she pulled her hand away. Fuck, she wanted it. Hips pumping and her eyes rolling back in her head, Margaret gave a groan of frustration. A groan much like she gave so many time before in college. Arianna's last comment still echoed in her ears. Rule number two, her years in college were coming back to haunt her. Always horny. Sex constantly on her mind. Feeling like a slut.

A slut. She hadn't thought of herself like that since college. This phone call hadn't gone like she planned. Not at all. She was only trying to help her daughter, but now it appeared she was the one who needed help. Worse, she was late and needed to hurry in order to be ready and be at the sorority house by eight. She left her office and went to find her assistant manager Jenny, a cute blonde, once downright beautiful, but who had recently grown a little wide in the hips...also a former Delta. She was was busy talking to one of the clerks.

"Jenny," Margaret said. "I've got some place I need to be. Do you mind closing tonight?"

"Not at all Mrs. Bricker."

"Thanks." Margaret said.

Jenny was puzzled. It wasn't the first time Margaret needed to leave early. But this time she was more flustered than she had ever seen her. Her face was flushed. Her hair mussed. She seemed unable to look her directly in the eyes. And then when Margaret got to the door she did a double take - hesitated and went to the clothing rack. She started pulling some items off the rack. Short and racy numbers.

"Just going to take a little something for my daughter," Margaret explained.

Which again was odd because while Margaret did give her daughter clothes off the rack - after all it was her store. However, usually they were conservative and preppy. Nothing like these. They were trendy, slightly . . . gaudy. Besides her daughter was in college and it was a week night.

Margaret blushed a bright crimson as she left the store. She went straight home and began to get ready for her meeting with Arianna. While she was in the shower she looked down at her sex. Her pubes were well trimmed, but the girl at the sorority house had told her to come prepared. To remember the rules. Did she really know all of them? Whatever the case, Margaret couldn't take the chance. She lathered her bush. Lathered it in a way she hadn't done since college- coating her whole bush in shaving cream. She picked up the razer. The rules. It was as if she were back in college, back in the sorority house. Showering so very early in the morning - so no one would see that she was shaving more than just her legs and pits like the other girls. God, it had been awful. Every day had been a terrifying nerve wracking existence. Now at least she had a measure of privacy as her curly hair fell down and washed toward the drain. Her sex smooth and bare. Everything was visible now. There was protective down. Leaving her vulnerable and h so available. The next part was even more difficult. She placed the hand mirror down on the tub. She squatted down. She could see her inflamed lips. Her engorged clit. The dark crater of her ass. She lathered it up and removed those last stray hairs near her bottom.

The rules. Oh God the rules. She thought back to her years in college. Squatting in this very same humiliating position. Always worried as she listened carefully for the door. Rubbing herr clit as fast as she could while she was squatting over the mirror. Rubbed until the orgasm approached, then stopped. She moaned out loud and almost lost her balance in the tub. Those rules should be long gone. Why had she called? She never imagined there would be a problem. She had worried for awhile after college, went to some of the sister's weddings, but never volunteered that she was a Delta. But when nothing ever happened, she grew complacent. She wasn't afraid to name drop. It even helped to get her several jobs ... and then there was also the loan. Almost unconsciously began to rub again. Approached orgasm two more times before stopping. It was getting more and more difficult to stop.

Stepping out of the shower she dried off. Drying her hair with the hair dryer, she thought of one of the other rules. Surely it didn't apply now. Surly this girl would never know. Even so, she danced the hot air over her already hot cunt. Working her passions higher and higher.

A hot slut is an obedient slut. That was what Miss Debbie used to say.

Margaret liked to be in control. But her facade of control was beginning to slip - to crumble. Just like in in college. Moaning she slipped a finger into her sex and plunged it in. Then took it out and sucked her digit clean and inhaled the fragrance. It smelled like old times.

I'm gonna make you love it, Debbie had told her. Make you love the taste. The smell. You might be majoring in business, but you are going to have a concentration in cunt.

Debbie had overseen the studies herself. Had never seemed to tire of giving Margaret lessons in oral pleasure - Debbie receiving and Maggie always giving. And how Margaret had come to know Debbie's pussy. The taste. The smell. The musk. The iron scent that occurred every month. Four years of that cunt. Licking it. Sucking it. Worshipping it. Then finally she was free of it. Even now, after all these years...she could remember every bump and ridge. Every dark and curly hair.

She hadn't seen Debbie's in nineteen years, oh she had guilty fantasies since then, but that was all. She had made sure to stay well away from any temptation. However, she felt sure she was going to get to know another cunt tonight. She rubbed her clit till her knees grew weak, then forced herself to stop. God, she was so hot. She felt betrayed by her body. It was this very same betrayal that had led to her sexual subjugation in the first place.

She made her face up, just like in the old days. Not the mature and appropriate manner she had done these last nineteen years. But with shiny pink lipstick. Blush on her cheeks. Pale green eyeshadow. Just a hint. A little eyeliner. She had raided her daughter drawer to find the make up. Finally, she was almost done. God the rules. How she hated them all, but one most of all. She bunched her hair up at the side of her head and put on a band. Then did it again on the other side. Pig tails. Oh how she hated them. Was there anything that screamed, no respect like pig tails?

The rest came together in her bedroom. A short pleated skirt. A sweater. Thin white socks that went to her knees. A pair of pumps. No panties. No bra.

She took a few experimental steps. Her full breasts bounced with every step. The rules. In college she hated not being allowed to wear a bra. Hated the way the other girls looked at her small breasts with superior smiles. Not a day passed where she didn't wish they were bigger. More substantial. Then they would respect her. But now? Now she had her wish, her breasts were ripe and full. Bouncy. God, they bounced with every step. Drawing attention to themselves. Instead of being proud, she was more embarrassed now than ever. She wanted her A cups back. Their size or lack there of would only be noticed if someone caught sight of a hardened nipple. Now, her breasts begged for attention with her every step.

The worst part was that Margaret wasn't even sure how much Arianna knew. Was she putting herself through all this humiliation for a college girl's hunch? On the drive over, she considered turning around and changing back, but couldn't bring herself to do it. As she pulled up the the sorority house, she noticed that it looked much smaller. She took out her phone and began to dial. Then hit end. God, she was scared. Her hands were shaking. It took several tries before she was able to dial the phone.

"Maggie? Hang on," Arianna said when she picked up. "I'll meet you at the back door."

Shortly thereafter, Arianna let Margaret in the back door and took her to her room and locked the door.

"It's good to see you remembered the rules," Arianna said, apprising the sexy older woman's body. "But did you remember them all?"

It took everything Margaret not to flinch when the young girl reached under her skirt. Debbie used to do this all the time. Checking on her obedience, just like this young dark haired vixen was doing. Fingers thrusting into her wet pussy. Working her up. Making her breathe heavy. Making her hips pump in response. Making her nipples harden and crinkle to tight nubs. Making her tongue sneak out and lick her glossy pink lips. But this wasn't Debbie, this girl was young enough to be her daughter. Margaret should be in charge, just on age alone. Yet, standing there, hips pumping, wanted so desperately for an orgasm, Margaret didn't feel in charge at all.

"Yes Miss, I remember," Margaret said, her voice thick with lust. She remembered all the rules. Remembered them like it was yesterday.

"It appears so," Arianna said, fondling the older woman's breast through the thin fabric of her shirt. "And my how you have grown since you were in college. You were flat in your pictures. But what a big girl you are now. The years have been kind to you I see."

"Thank you Miss," Margaret said, then remembering rule number nine, always acknowledge and be thankful for every compliment - even though sometimes they felt like put downs. She blushed, adding. "I'm glad - I'm glad you like them."

"I believe you had a request you wanted to make regarding your daughter," Arianna said. "There's a rule for that too I believe."

The young girl sat down in a chair, then spread her legs. She wasn't wearing any underwear. Her lips were engorged and her dark curly hair was damp with her lust.

"Yes Miss," Margaret said, going down to her knees. It was clear that this girl knew every last rule. Rule number five, all requests had to be made to Debbie's cunt. This time it would be Arianna she made the request to.

Margaret didn't expect the hand that leapt out and slapped her face.

"Did I say you could look at me naked?" Arianna demanded.

"No Miss but..." Margaret stammered. Debbie had been a cruel Mistress, but she had never slapped her. Her punishments always took the form of another rule added to her humiliating list. She clutched a hand to her cheek.

"Put that on." Arianna pointed to a blindfold laying on the bed.

Margaret put on the blind fold. Feeling her way along, she knelt between those legs again. It had been a long time since she had been in this very place. The last time had been the day after graduation. The day she moved out. Debbie had wanted to get her fill. Enough to last her. She had eaten her out so many times she lost count. That was supposed to have been the last time. Yet, here she was again. Kneeling in front of another woman. Blowing gently on her pubic hair. Giving her light kisses. Turning kissing to licks. Her body remembered what to do - and she did it very well.

"Oh Maggie," Arianna cooed, her tongue snaking out of her bow shaped mouth. Each hand grasping one of the older woman's pig tails. Using them to guide her ministration. Steering her like a bitch on a leash. "The descriptions don't do you justice. Your tongue is divine. You are one hot little queer."

"Thank you Miss," Margaret mumbled from down below and continued to work. She hated how the young girl was directing her oral service by tugging her pig tails. Debbie used to refer to them as her training wheels. Oh how she hated them. Hated how 'cute' they made her look. People didn't respect cute. And having her pig tails pulled, making her lick here and there, drove home just how little respect her pig tails entailed.

After several minutes, Arianna pulled her away from her tasks momentarily.

"What was it you wanted to ask me about?" Arianna asked.

Her face soiled and her makeup a mess, Margaret proceeded to tell the young woman about her daughters troubles. How she was having a hard time with the pledging process. Could - maybe - perhaps Arianna could see fit to take it easy on her. As a favor. That was the gist. What transpired was quite different all together. Margaret was forced to ask this while licking her young mistress. She would get a few words out and then she was grabbed by her pig tails, pulled back in, forced to lick, to suck, until Arianna would push her away and ask, "Now what were you saying? Maybe you should start from the beginning again."

It was so hard for Margaret to remember her train of thought. In the old days, she usually forgot what she had originally wanted to ask Debbie for. But this time she had her daughter to think of. To keep her strong. Yet, she didn't feel very strong kneeling there, licking, sucking, and talking about her daughter while doing so. Her own sex so hot and wet...yet so frustrated and needing. It just didn't feel right.

It felt fine to Arianna. She come twice from this old MILF. God, the woman had a tongue that wouldn't quit. It was a damned shame that it had been wasted for nineteen years. Almost a crime. "I think I can help your daughter," Arianna said. "But, there's going to be a price for my assistance..and that price is orgasms. I want more. A lot more. And I want them someplace where I can moan to my heart's content. Let me go make sure the coast is clear, then I'll come back for you. Why don't you clean off your face in the meantime? If you finish that, you can work on rule number eight."

Margaret followed her young Mistress's orders. Cleaning the juices from her face and then obediently stroking herself, going just to the edge of orgasm, but backing off before she went all the way. Just like old times. When Arianna came back,she followed her young charge to the basement. She had been there before with Debbie. But this time she was more nervous than ever. Especially when the young woman made her put on the blind fold back on before leading her down those dark rickety steps. ********************* Several hours earlier....

"I'm glad you were able to meet me," Arianna told young girl. "I talked to your mom this afternoon. She was quite disappointed when she learned her daughter was thinking about not continuing her legacy here at Delta."

Stacy cringed at the thought of her mother. She had tried to prepare her for what was going to happen. That she wasn't cut out for Delta. She hadn't even told her mother everything. That she was the scum girl. Not just the Delta sisters, but the other pledges got to tell her what to do... and she had to do what they said. And they could be quite inventive. Pick up this. Fetch that. Clean so and so. Wear this stupid sign on your back. On your chest. God, it was humiliating. Most of her problems seemed to stem from Arainna, the head of the Delta house. She seemed to have it in for her.

"And I was disappointed when I heard you were telling your mother about things that went on in the house, and you know the rule. What goes on in Delta house, stays in Delta house. You weren't supposed to tell anyone..."

"I'm sorry," Stacy said, but she just had to tell someone. She hadn't even told her own mother everything. "I didn't tell her about everything. Just that I was having a hard time. That I was having second thoughts."

"No more excuses," Arianna said. She strolled over to the wall and took down a large paddle. The symbols delta delta delta were carved in the surface. "You know what happens when you break the rules Stacy. You swore you wouldn't tell anyone what goes on behind these doors."

God no. Not again. It seemed she was always breaking the rules. No matter how hard she tried.

"Twenty more for stalling," Arianna said.

Stacy blinked back the tears pooling in her pretty blue eyes. She was so tired of being spanked. Her bottom was always sore - always tender. A skinny girl, the blows seemed to hurt her more than the other pledges. It was a struggle just to sit. She reached beneath her short skirt and wriggled down her panties until they lay at her ankles. She muttered a quick ,"Please," before tucking the back of her skirt into her waistband and then leaning forward and grabbing her ankles.

Couture
Couture
3,836 Followers