The Wedding Dress

I already had the coffee on when Jesse arrived. I was still in my robe and upon my opening of the door at Jesse's knock; she took me in her arms and gave me a really big kiss. "Hi honey," Jesse said, "oh God, baby, I'm so excited for you. You're going to be so happy!" Jesse had said it in a tone of voice that, for some reason, I thought I had never heard before. It sounded as though she knew something I didn't know ... like she had some kind of secret or surprise that she wasn't going to reveal.

We had our coffee with a Danish roll, and then went upstairs to dress. I was only wearing panties when I slipped my wedding dress on. I told Jesse that Margarita told me the dress was designed with a built-in bra and she just smiled. There wasn't much support in the bra but it did have much more 'lift' then I was used to. This tended to make my breasts protrude outward in an exaggerated manner. When I looked in the mirror I realized this was the first time I saw myself in my wedding dress. What shocked me was the way my nipples made 'sharp' points in the material of the wedding dress. Along with the deep cleavage I got the impression that I look pretty 'slutty' in my wedding dress.

"Jesse, damn, do I dare wear this dress," I asked Jesse.

"Why not honey," Jesse replied. "Anyway, you can't wear a bra without it showing and you don't have any time to do anything else with it." Again, there was something in Jesse's tone of voice that made me feel uncomfortable. During the time Jesse was assisting me dressing she was more 'loving' than she had been toward me for a very long time. Her hands were all over me and a few times, as the opportunity would present itself, Jesse would let her hand brush my breasts or hips. Her hands would linger in the right places just long enough for me to think back about our college days ... about the sexual relationship we had during that time. Mixed in with these thoughts were my thoughts of yesterday ... with Margarita. But every time Margarita came into my thoughts, I would do my best to 'push' it in to the back of my mind. Jesse had kissed me more this morning than ever before too. I had noticed Jesse's somewhat 'out of the ordinary' behavior but kind of dismissed it to all the excitement of the morning.

The limousine that Richard had ordered was on time and Jesse went downstairs to let the chauffer in the door. As I was making last minute adjustments to my dress and hair, I had a sudden impulse to take my panties off ... and I did! "Why am I doing this," I was thinking to myself as I stepped out of my panties. "God," I feel so sexually aroused knowing I don't have panties under my wedding dress." Somewhere in my mind, I knew the excitement I was feeling had something to do with Margarita!

It was eight o'clock and we were on our way. The chauffeur opened the door and Jesse and I climbed into the back.

"Dottie," Jesse said in a demure tone of voice, "you know how much I love you, don't you?"

"Yes, of course I do, Jesse my honey," I answered. "You're my best friend in the world. You're my first woman love, you know ... ah, kind of like my own first lady."

But it was just that different tone of Jesse's voice that made me question in my mind ... 'why did she ask that?' "Damn," I thought to myself, "I wonder if Jesse realized I used the words 'first women love' when I answered her."

"And you know Dottie my sweetheart that I would never, never do anything to hurt you, don't you?" Jesse asked again, and again the same questioning tone of voice. I had never seen Jesse act the way she was acting and talking to me before today.

"Jesse, damn it, of course I do," I answered, "God, stop it ... you're getting me nervous. I'm going to my wedding, not my funeral!"

The questions stopped as we arrived at the home of the judge, who was a friend of Richard's grandfather and the executor in charge Richard's grandfather's will, and who was also going to perform our marriage ceremony. The first time I saw Richard standing in his beautiful Navy blue suit; all the past thoughts went out of my mind, and I realized how lucky I was to have Richard wanting me for his wife. Then I was instantly caught up in the ceremony.

It was a very small wedding. "This is the way Richard wanted it," I thought to myself. "Only a few members of our immediate family, a few friends, dinner, and then we will fly by private jet to 'our' home in the Catskill Mountains of New York. It would be a long flight from California to New York," Richard explained "and we would have the rest of our lives to celebrate."

I felt as though the people at our wedding dinner were whispering about the cleavage I was showing. This combined with the obvious fact that I wasn't wearing a bra gave me a 'uneasy wicked feeling' and for some reason I found myself enjoying it. "Geeze," I thought to myself, "what if they knew I wasn't wearing panties."

As we left the dinner and got into our limousine for the trip to the airport, everyone was waving to us from the steps of the dining club. Richard got in one side of the car and as I went to get into the other side I heard Jesse's voice calling out to me.

"Wait Dottie," Jesse said as she came running up to my side of the car. Jesse took me in her arms, kissed me fully on the lips and then put her head on my shoulder close to my ear. "Dottie, my sweetheart, my honey, my baby, I love you more than anything else in the world. Please darling, say hello to Mistress Margarita for me!"

"What??? ... What did she say??? ... Say hello to ... to Mistress Margarita?" It felt as though some one have planted dynamite in my mind and ... and it just went off! I wanted so bad to run back to Jesse ... to ask her if what I heard her say in my ear was what I thought I heard. But I couldn't! Richard was telling me to get in the car. We had a firm flight schedule and we couldn't delay any longer.

On the drive to the airport my mind was processing thoughts so fast if my brain was a circuit board it would have caught on fire. "Margarita ... Margarita ... yes, yes," my memory was starting to function again ... starting to recall where I had met Margarita before! "It's was at Jesse's anniversary party ... I knew I knew Margarita from some place ... I knew I recognized the scent of her perfume from some place ... yes, yes ... that's where it was ... it was a very brief meeting ... practically only an introduction ... at Jesse's," my thought processes was sorting out all of the details now. "But what does Jesse mean ... tell Mistress Margarita I said hello?" I thought to myself. "Could it be ... could it be that Jesse and Margarita ... no, no ... it can't be."

When we got to the airport in New York, Richard's car was waiting for us. He drove the next thirty miles to our home on a setting of one hundred acres of trees and green lawns. Up to this time, I had only seen pictures of Richard's home here in the Catskill Mountains. And when we drove the long drive way to the front of the house, dusk was just starting to set in. I was astounded at the size of the house. It looked much larger in reality than it had in the pictures.

"Leave the bags there," Richard said to me as we got out of the car, "I'll get them later.

Just as we got to the front door it was swung open. Obviously it was opened from the inside. Richard walked in first. "That's odd," I thought, "Richard was always such a gentleman. He always held the door opened for me or at least would always say something like 'after you darling,'"

As he stepped through the door and I followed Richard inside, the door seemingly closed by itself. I glanced around, saw the large steps leading up to the opened balcony in the foyer and was about to comment on how beautiful it looked when I looked behind me by the door.

"Margarita ... what ... Margarita ... what are you doing here?" I asked, the shock on my face very apparent.

"Oh yes," Richard said, "I think you have already met Mistress Margarita. She is Mistress of this house. She has complete authority in this house. I think it best if you go with her now."

"What ... what ... what the hell are you saying? "Richard ... Richard ... I don't understand ... Richard, wait ... what ..." I shouted to Richard as he walked toward the twin doors that led to the sitting room not even turning to look at me. He just went through the doors and closed them.

I ran toward the doors, tried to turn the door knobs ... they were locked. I tried banging on the doors ... nothing! I started to cry, the tears were streaming down my face by the time I heard the sounds of the high heeled shoes coming toward me ... the same sound of high heeled shoes I had heard yesterday in a place called 'Margarita's Custom Fittings.'

By the time I turned around Margarita was only a few feet from me. She had that same serious, no nonsense look on her face that she had the very first time I saw her. "Are you through with your little tantrum now Kitten," she asked in a firm but not loud tone of voice.

"Kitten, on God ... she called me Kitten," I thought to myself ... my mind was floating backward. Everything that I had tried so hard to push to the back of my mind was beginning to resurface.

"Margarita ... please Margarita ... I don't understand, I don't ...," I tried to finish the sentence but was cut off.

"Shut up!" Margarita shouted so loud that the sound seemed to bounce off the walls. "Is that how I taught you to address me yesterday? Didn't you learn anything? Are you going to make me start all over again?" The questions were coming so fast. I felt like an airplane that was going into a tail spin.

"I'm ... I'm sorry ... I just don't understand," I answered through the sounds of my sobs.

"Let's try it again, shall we ... and let's see if you remember how to address me properly," Margarita said her voice not as loud but just as firm. "I asked you if you were through with your little crying tantrum."

"Ah ... ah, yes, ... yes, Miss Margarita, ... but I don't ..." Margarita again cut me off in mid sentence.

"You will understand everything in due time my little slut," Margarita said emphasizing the word 'slut.'

As soon as I heard the word 'slut' a trigger of sorts seemed to go off in my mind and I was full with thoughts of yesterday ... of what took place between Margarita and I.

"Now follow me and I will try to get you settled down," Margarita said to me in the tone of voice that I knew somehow was to be obeyed. As she turned to walk toward the other end of the large foyer, I followed. Margarita had a very skimpy flowered dress on that buttoned down the front. It was a rich navy blue in color and had small white flowers scattered in different locations on the dress. The dress did nothing to hide any of Margarita's assets. As a matter of fact, the dress clearly outlined her beautifully proportioned form, the small waist that led down to an almost perfect posterior. The dress was short enough to display a lot of her legs which were encased in a very fine 'fish-net' type of nylon stocking. On her feet she wore at least four or maybe even five inch high heeled shoes. They were again open toed and seemed to be made of very shiny patent leather.

Just as I had seen her yesterday, her make-up was perfect. Her hair was also well done ... she was every bit as beautiful as she was when I first saw her and being in the presence of some one so beautiful and yet so demanding had the same intimidating effect on me.

I followed Margarita through a door at the other end of the foyer. I found myself in a small very lavish office. It had very fine and very highly polished wood flooring and paneling with bookshelves on two walls. On the other wall, just behind the desk, was a very large full picture of Margarita dressed in what appeared to be riding clothing accentuated by highly polished leather riding boots. In one hand she seemed to be carrying a riding crop ... and by the uncompromising appearance of her beautiful face in the picture ... it gave one the impressive that she would not have any qualms about using that riding crop. The last wall had a very large window that overlooked the beautiful gardens of this fine estate.

Margarita closed the door and sat on the edge of the desk. "There is a stool over in that corner Kitten, go get it and bring it over here in front of my desk," Margarita said to me.

My face was still soaked with tears and yet ... somehow I knew what I had to do. "Yes Miss Margarita," I answered as I walked over to get the stool. As soon as I used the 'prefix' in front of Margarita's name I felt the same overpowering feeling of surrender surge through my body as I had yesterday. It was a very small stool ... more like a child's seat than anything else. I placed it in front of Margarita's desk ... just as I was told to do.

"Move it closer to me and sit on it slut," Margarita said ... and I did! I was only inches away from the beautiful legs of Margarita ... the same legs that I had kissed yesterday ... the same legs that were resting on my shoulders yesterday ... the same legs that I so much admired. "Listen carefully to me Kitten. I will explain the situation here to you only once. Then you will have a very serious choice to make. Do you understand?" Miss Margarita continued. "You are not to look at me. Keep you eyes on my legs and feet."

"Yes Miss Margarita," I answered.

"You are presently Richard's wife," Margarita began speaking. "But that's all! Richard belongs to me. I took over ownership of Richard three years ago. Before Richard met me he was just a rich bungling idiot squandering his money just to get a piece of ass from sluts like you. Without me Richard would probably have ended up broke by now. With me he has a life. But that life is devoted to me, to my welfare and to my pleasure."

"I met Richard shortly after your best friend Jesse and I became lovers," Margarita continued. "Yes Kitten, I know all about you and Jesse and your college days."

I couldn't believe my ears. "God," I thought, "her and Jesse ... why wouldn't Jesse tell me ... I didn't think Jesse would ever keep anything from me. Jesse ... Jesse ... my best friend ..." Before I could continue thinking, Margarita began speaking again.

"You see Kitten," she began, "in order for Richard to get his inheritance, he had to be married. That fact is clearly stated in his grandfather's will. And he had to marry a girl that had not been married before. Since I was married at one time, I could not qualify. I explained my problem to Jesse and since she knows you better than anyone else, she suggested you as the perfect candidate to become Richard's wife. Jesse told me how subservient you were to her during your encounters during your college years, how she had to lead you into having sex with her, and how she had to direct you through sex. Jesse also thought you needed someone strong in your life. So by Jesse suggesting you as a candidate for Richard's wife, and to have me in your life, Jesse was in a way, showing her love for you."

As Margarita was talking she let her high heeled shoes slip off her feet. From her advantage point sitting on the edge of the desk, she let her foot sort of dangle right in front of my face. Immediately the sight of her beautifully pedicured feet encased in the fish net nylons plus the scent of her foot so close to my face had an effect on me. I gulped loudly as the familiar awakening of my sexual senses responded. Then Margarita put her foot under my chin and picked my face up using her toes.

"Did you understand what I just told you Kitten?" Margarita said in a comforting tone of voice.

I looked up into her eyes ... the eyes that seemed to be able to change from a very cold stare to a very warm and caring appearance. Again I felt myself 'gulp' and again I began to get the feeling of being a young girl appearing before someone much more intelligent and much more superior than I could ever hope to be.

"Yes ... yes, Miss Margarita," I answered surprising even myself as I heard my own voice responding to her.

Miss Margarita got up from the desk. She walked around to the back of me. As she walked around me, she let her dress rub ever so lightly on my face while I sat on this small stool. The feel of the material of her flimsy dress rubbing against my face and the scent of her closeness had the same intimidating effect on me as it did yesterday. I followed her movements until she had arrived in back of my stool. Then Margarita put her hands on my shoulders and began a very slow methodical rub ... almost as though she was giving me a soft massage.

"You understand that you are not being kept here against your will. I will soon be giving you a few choices. You and you alone will have the final say in whatever you decide," Margarita said to me. "But first I want to ask you some questions and I want you to answer truthfully. Do you understand?" she continued her voice now taking on a more authoritative like tone.

"Yes, Miss Margarita," I heard myself answer. "I understand."

"Did you like the way I tasted yesterday?" Miss Margarita asked, again the tone of her voice changing to that soft almost seducing tone.

"Oh God," I thought to myself. "Geeze ... why did she ask me that? God, ... how do I answer a question like that," my mind seemed to be trying to find a way out of answering her. I could feel myself shaking ... I remembered what it was like to feel my head between her thighs, to feel the softness of her pubic hair against my face, and to taste the essence of another woman on my lips ... and in my mouth. Somewhere deep inside of me I knew not very many women had the opportunity to experience the thrill and excitement of being with another woman in this manner ... to experience the utmost bliss that comes from knowing you are satisfying someone of your own gender, feeling them shake and shudder with pre-orgasm gyrations, and then ... then to feel all the buildup and excitement transfer to your own body and mind, to feel an explosive orgasm and to feel yourself drift off in one moment in time to a place where few people have been.

The silence between the 'question' Margarita asked and the time it took for all this to run through my mind ... was deafening! Margarita waited ... she waited as though she was sure of my answer. I looked up at the picture on the wall behind Margarita's desk ... the picture of this beautiful woman in her riding outfit. I looked at the riding crop in her hand in the picture and almost immediately I felt that deep feeling of inferiority within me. 'Yes,' my mind was telling me, 'yes, you know you liked it ... say it ... say it.'

"Yes ... yes, Miss Margarita, ... yes, I liked it," I finally answered.

"Good," Miss Margarita said as she slipped her both hands inside of the white button down blouse I had changed into for traveling. She grasped both of my breasts from outside of my bra and I felt a shiver run throughout my body. Then she forced both of her hands inside of my bra and took each nipple between her fingers and squeezed ... softly at first but then gradually harder and harder. The mixture of pain and sexual sensations of her hands on my breasts started the first tingling of excitement in my vagina ... and there wasn't anyway in the world I could deny it. "Yes," Margarita said, "I was sure you were a slut the very first time I saw you when Jesse introduced me to you at her anniversary party. Now stand up!"

As Margarita took her hands out of my blouse I stood up. I didn't even hesitate! When Margarita's voice changed to this authoritative tone I knew it was time to obey her. As I stood up, Margarita walked around to the front of her desk, opened the drawer and took out a pair of scissors. Then she walked around and stood right in front of me.

"Look at me Kitten," Margarita said in a seductive tone of voice. "Look right into my eyes and think of where your head was yesterday. Think of how warm it was there. Think of how my pussy welcomed your tongue. Think of how happy your tongue and mouth made my pussy and think of how you yourself felt from bringing this pleasure to your Mistress."