Total Woman Legacy 04

Anton, a highly successful International Law barrister in 'the City', London's premiere financial district, and his brother Frederick waited with Ned in Anton's well-furnished office, idling with small talk for the arrival of the overdue pair of Monica and her mother. The day had finally arrived when Monica would leave for her impending attendance at a mysterious elite educational institution in Mid-western America.

There was a clatter in the outer reception office; Anton's Special Executive Assistant, Maria, was heard welcoming and pacifying the late arrivals. The mother loudly expounded on how the pair had shopped all day at Harrods's for last minute school outfits, fitting out Monica with a stylish collection of college wardrobes, like the powder blue business suit she now wore.

Maria took their coats, performed her gate keeper duties and opened the security inner door. Monica and her mother Sharon finally hustled breathless into the meeting.

Sharon never missed a beat in dialogue of woes and worries; she caterwauled about the department store's useless sales assistants, the slow service, and Anton's chauffer who dawdled while schlepping the four oversize suitcases of new purchases out of the corporate limousine's trunk. And couldn't the ritzy office tower's doorman understand simple instructions, balking when ordered to transfer the luggage carefully to the educational institution's town car?

Monica slipped away from her bossy mother. She had heard this constant diatribe of gripes 'forever'! She plopped into a cushioned side chair, looking like she couldn't be bothered either way, twisting a curl in her hair and pecking on her cell phone, texting replies to her chums' last minute 'bon voyages' and 'good wishes'.

The brothers introduced Ned as the exclusive institution's official representative. The details of the education and facilities disclosed by Sharon's husband and brother-in-law had been vague. But the mother was grateful for any forward looking opportunity, a chance for recalcitrant Monica to break away from the lackadaisical lifestyle she currently indulged in with her likewise do-nothing cronies.

Sharon looked askance at her daughter, carelessly slouched in her chair. Monica was focused on the little pixel screen in her hand.

"Monica, sit up straight! Pay attention. We're talking about your future. Don't you care?"

"Oh, Mother!"

Monica looked up, rolled her eyes and threw her mum a disparaging look before returning to her tapping on the cellphone screen. She had heard this all before. Her mother wanted her to turn out just like her, a society matriarch with sniveling accomplices lauding their trivial community amusements. Sharon let out an exasperated sigh.

"I don't know what to do with her. She lounges around all day in pajamas and sweat suits and then is gone most of the night to God only knows where with God only knows who. I want her to learn etiquette and worldly ways that will lead her to a prosperous and fulfilling life. Is there anything anyone can do with her?"

The mother looked around the room for support. Anton and Frederick studied their shoelaces, knowing better than to open a debate with the difficult woman when she was in this foul mood, which she usually was. Ned took his cue and addressed the apprehensive mother's ineffable questions regarding Monica's bright future.

"I assure you Monica will experience unprecedented exposure to our genteel instructors and find great joy in the practical application of beauty, intelligence and poise. Our elite group of coach tutors will drill her in the urbane nuances of human affairs. When fully imbued with their bountiful largesse, she will learn to respect deferential rules and roles and thereby earn admiration for her learned skills and abilities. I promise you she will be a changed woman when you see her again."

The mother half-smiled with half-confidence; Ned's words were so cultured and sophisticated. Monica would surely be better off in the hands of dynamic men like him. She resolved that this was the right course of action for her wayward drifting daughter.

"Please teach her well; make her one of your special pupils."

"Oh, I assure you, ma'am, we will all see to that."

The moment of truth was upon them; Monica's mother cuddled her impassive offspring and poured forth her tearful goodbyes, enjoining her apathetic Monica to absorb everything offered and take full advantage of this great opportunity.

Then Sharon looked at the time and said her hastily goodbyes; she hurried off to one of her vainglorious society club occasions, leaving the men to handle the last details. The room stood on a quieter, calmer aura; Maria popped her head in to confirm the woman's departure. Anton thanked her and said it was 'Do Not Disturb' for the remainder of the day.

Alone with the subject young lady, Ned, backed by re-involved Anton and Frederick, informed Monica that from then on the elite institution she was destined to attend would provide her with all of the essential clothing, sustenance and education she required.

And the change in her support system was to begin immediately. For instance, they informed her that her unsightly new business suit was inappropriate for the coming travel arrangements. She would need to exchange it forthwith for suitable institutional-approved travel wear.

Monica hesitated, waiting out their steady stares, before she realized that they were deadly serious and her promised brighter future started now with new rules and roles.

The men smirked at her tarrying; her father laughingly invited Monica to take off the blue business suit.

"Here?"

"Yes, here."

She frowned, setting aside her cell phone on her father's desk, before she walked to the center of the high rise power office. Unnoticed, her father slipped her cell phone quietly into his desk drawer, out of sight, out of mind, to be forgotten. He would deal with erasing its contents and ending any inter-communications at a later time.

Uncle Frederick hummed a slow burlesque song, adding levity to the situation. The men chuckled at his jest. Monica glared at them and the jibe died off. She unbuttoned and sluffed the jacket came off, pressing her breasts forward into the stretched blouse. A scan of their faces confirmed that the men were waiting for the top and skirt also; her look of annoyance apparent.

Frederick grew less jolly and snapped his fingers, whirling one in a horizontal circle, silently advising her to get on with it. She complied, grudgingly, a little peeved at this game. Now wearing just heels, bra and panties, she looked around expectantly for the promised replacement clothes.

The trio of males giggled. Uncle Frederick spoke up.

"Monica, your underwear, too. They wouldn't be compatible with your new travelling dress."

She hesitated again, faced their stares and deduced they were committed to getting her naked. Offended by their mirth but spurred by the promised rewards of America, and the opportunity to escape out from under her mother's domineering thumb, she reached back, thrusting her breasts forward and popped the bra's back clasps. She slid the straps off her arms to the floor. Leaning over at the waist, she slid down her panties. Her full firm boobs barely shifted on her chest.

Ned was impressed by her overall appearance. Her bullet shaped tits rode high and forward on her chest; her tight toned ass was well proportioned and balanced the mass of her boobs. She still wore her heels and Ned liked that; it made her look taller and enhanced her hourglass stature. Her pussy was shaved but her tresses were a natural wavy brunette, falling past her shoulders. Brown eyes, tawny skin and dark nipples, not the Scandinavian blue eyed paleness he expected in Anton's children; more of a nod to her darker complexioned mother.

The trio of elite males were inwardly captivated by her budding womanly assets but outwardly straight-faced at her embarrassment. With the men seated at the periphery and Monica standing near naked in the carpeted center, she timidly tried to use her hands to cover her shaved pussy and nubile tits, shying away from their lurid gazes. But they were seated in a rough circle and there was no way she could turn her back to all of them at once.

"Monica! Stop with the coy routine!"

Monica heard the abrupt stern tone behind her and turned on Ned, ready to retort his admonition. She saw that he held a single drape of white cotton, her supposed travel clothes, suspended by a finger of one hand and his exposed cock wrapped by the other.

"This first college audition comes from the Poise portion of the curriculum. It requires you to demonstrate obedience to instructions. And here is my first instruction: give me a blowjob."

Monica's eyes popped wide at the command. She stood stiffly, staring, unmoving. Ned softened his voice just a little, a trace of empathy.

"Oh, come on... It's not like you haven't done it before, what with the rowdy crowd you've run with."

He waggled his erection before continuing.

"This is just one more cock out of many. But this one's most special: elite alpha male cock, your destined preference. Now get over here and kneel between my legs."

Monica's haughty expression melted. She felt trapped by the circumstances, pulled between her fading sense of pride and overwhelming desire to get away from her overbearing mother. She reluctantly stepped to Ned, knelt, clutched the shaft as he let go, and lowered her face to his crotch. She had gotten a facial makeover while at Harrods's and her cherry red lips slid up and down his shaft, but only half way. She used her hand to stroke the lower exposed portion; she sloppily licked and sucked his erection. It was a very amateur attempt.

If this was anything other than a test of obedience, Ned would have been very disappointed at her efforts. But she had taken the challenge and Ned let her off easy. He relaxed and willed his ecstasy to peak quickly. He held her head steady so she couldn't back off when he ejaculated in her mouth.

"No wasting it, now. Swallow!"

She did and he released his clutch. She sat back on her ass, grimacing as she tasted the lingering dregs of sperm from a man better than twice her age. She wiped her lips with the back of her hand, throwing Ned an insolent look of disgust.

Ned talked right past her, informing the other men that he usually enjoyed much better oral sex than Monica's minimal efforts. However, considering that she had complied with all their instructions and would receive extensive fellatio training later, he would now endorse her transfer enrollment to the Total Woman Academy.

Anton executed the special pledge contribution on his computer and gathered the other transfer matriculation papers with lawyerly flourish. Ned's cell phone dinged and he confirmed Anton's funds transfer; it was the final detail of Monica's acceptance into TWA.

Ned pitched the travel clothes at Monica, the small wad plopping on her chest. She looked down and slowly, indignantly, clutched it in her hand. Her modesty and anger were gradually fading into compliance, having sucked off this unappreciative stranger after stripping in full view of her family's adult males.

Monica stood, unraveled the wad of cloth and slipped into her designated travel clothes, a sheer tee-shirt dress, white and bodycon tight. It was barely legal in public, stretched translucent thin on her bare body. When she pulled the hem down past her toned ass, it was just long enough to cloak her groin but the pull opened it more at the neck. It displayed a lot of cleavage and barely shrouded her full braless boobs, now embellished by anxiety hardened pokies, haloed by dark areola shadows.

Ned stood and said his brief farewells to his business hosts, shaking their hands, thanking them on behalf of TWA for their continued patronage. He spoke politely to Monica, inviting her to go with him now, and escorted her from the office with a firm grip on her upper arm.

TWA alumnus Maria, Anton's efficient Special Executive Assistant, helped the departing pair by getting the door and emphatically wished Monica well. She brushed a kiss on the younger girl's cheek; her eyes teary with joy and admiration at Monica's unrecognized good fortune. Her husky whisper stated heart-felt advise.

"Don't let go of this opportunity. Embrace it with a firm passion like you have never felt before. It's a phenomenon that will change your life for the better... forever!"

In the hallway, Monica kept pace with Ned, dressed prim and proper in his natty British wool business suit. She held the hem of her shirt dress in both hands, pulling it lower to shield her naked crotch. Her unsupported breasts hinted the slightest of recoil to her high heeled step, the firm full masses youthfully buoyant.

Ned acknowledged the surprised gawks of the women and the animated grins of the men that they met in the corridor and on the elevator ride. They passed a few more in the lobby on the short walk to the waiting town car. Some may have recognized the scandalously clad power-broker's daughter but Monica, with flushed face, didn't see them any of them as she kept her gaze at the floor, avoiding their looks. Ned opened the car's passenger door and blocked the others' view as she folded into the front seat, unavoidably flashing her bare pussy while lifting and turning her long sultry legs into the front seat.

Ned asked the uniformed doorman if Monica's luggage had been transferred to this vehicle and, being grudgingly assured that per Sharon's irksome orders they were in the car's boot, drove away from the office building.

-----

Anton and Frederick stayed in the office and chatted. Frederick gathered Monica's discarded business suit and lingerie and dumped them unceremoniously into the trash can. It would not be the first such findings over the years for the night cleaning staff. They poured drinks and parked themselves on the office couches, toasting the successful inauguration of Monica's new life journey.

Uncle Frederick asked his brother bluntly:

"Have you fucked Monica yet?"

"No, not yet" Anton replied. He said he feared the wrath of Monica's societally repressed mother should she ever find out he was having sex with their daughter. Besides, as a TWA elite pledge contributor, he had more than enough nubile pussy available elsewhere.

"Why did you ever marry that woman?" his brother asked. Anton shrugged.

"Connections. Her father was OBE, Foreign Office Commercial Attaché. I have made a fortune following up on his worldwide contacts. Sharon is so absorbed in her society spectacles that she ignores our finances, as long as I feed the household budget with enough for her community contributions and such. I have made tremendous profits and have squirreled away plenty for walk-away money. But why walk-away? Divorces are messy and besides, I have the means and schedule flexibility to be an exceptional Pledge Contributor to TWA, a matchless world that you and your wife introduced to me. I am eternally grateful for that, brother."

Frederick shoo-shooed away the sibling gratitude. Now it was Anton's turn to be curious.

"And you and Lycka?"

Frederick thought a second before replying.

"No, me neither."

He admitted he was anxious to do the deed but was obligingly his wife's belief that paternal incest should be reserved for a time consistent with TWA's senior poise curriculum.

"And Lucia?" jibed Anton. He was referring to Frederick's older daughter, already nearly complete with the upper level curriculums at TWA.

"Of course, I have, you randy old Billy goat. And so have you, 'Uncle Anton'. You fucked Lucia in a private guest coach tutor encounter and several times again during subsequent Freewill Weekends. She talked about you when I finally did my duty during Father Daughter Weekend. She will graduate soon, you know?"

The brothers chuckled as each adjusted their crotches, dicks growing at the fond family memories.

Both agreed that the attentions of other TWA coeds would help them wait out the years until the younger cousins' TWA-facilitated parental indoctrinations. In a few weeks, they were scheduled to attend a TWA Freewill Weekend and would pry Ned for feedback on their daughters' basic carnal talents and their budding potentials. They were sure he would have, by then, fucked them both; Lycka already and probably Monica starting tonight. He would collegially share his expert insights with the interested parents.

Enlivened by the prospects, they gleefully discussed their daughters' years-hence Father-Daughter Weekend. Maybe additional pledge contributions would entice TWA to alter that event; allow them to go rogue, off campus, in an extended Uncle-Niece Weekend Swap. Anton accepted the mission of broaching their proposal with the TWA Board.

The brothers sat back and stared at the ceiling, each lost in thought, contemplating the possibilities that such an arrangement would engender.

Anton, the London-based brother, sat up and addressed his visiting brother.

"So, any dinner plans?"

"Not yet."

"Let's go to my Club. You can stay there tonight in one of the guest suites and enjoy full bed and breakfast. Do you prefer Indian or Japanese?"

"For dinner?"

"No, silly bro... I meant for your 'full bed'. Dinner will be Beef Wellington, the Club chef's specialty."

"Oh... well... Yes... I think I fancy Thai tonight."

"Excellent choice, Frederick! I'll call ahead to the Club Concierge; he will make the proper arrangements. You really like those little massage suck and fucks, don't you? She'll be waiting in your room."

Frederick smiled and got a little animated.

"So, Anton, will you be staying over for a 'full bed and breakfast' too?"

"Not tonight. It's Friday and that's Maria's scheduled night to hostess me at the corporate apartment. I can't disappoint the hired help, huh?"

"She doesn't look like a hostess anybody would willingly disappoint. Monica will do well if she emulates the career of your Special Executive Assistant."

"That's certainly possible, all in due time..."

They drained their glasses and left together for a night of dinner and then their individual 'full bed' entertainments. It was the type of entertainment elite alpha males, especially TWA Pledge Contributors, were financially and physically prone to fully savor.

-----

True to the Uncles' predictions, Ned took Monica to the upscale Trafalgar St. James Hotel for the night. He would seek to ease her residual qualms about sex with middle-aged men.

The Hotel Manager handled the booking of his recurrent VIP guest, whisking him through the check-in. The register recorded 'Ned and niece'. The manager felt obliged to personally execute Ned's reservation, and the several other distinguished gentlemen who booked through the same covert corporate account.

The manager's junior staff could not be trusted to conceal their juvenile ribald humor, razzing between themselves that Ned and the other gentlemen must come from a very large family. The nieces were frequent guests, all of diverse ethnicities, and were never the same one twice. Yes, a very large family with lots of nieces, they snickered.

Monica glanced back at the town car, the parking valets already pulling it away, hoping her luggage would accompany them to the room. Ned saw her look of optimism, shook his head and guided her across the lobby to the lifts.

At their high floor, Ned opened the suite door and allowed Monica to enter first. It was already stocked with a light buffet table, a spread of fruits, cheeses, crackers and beverages. Ned checked the bathroom for the expected accoutrements and, satisfied with the stock of feminine cosmetics, removed his clothes. A quick shower and he emerged naked into the main chamber where he found Monica partaking of the food.