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Message-ID: <34111asstr$1008562211@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Laura Davis" <ldavis4@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Repost: Memories;My Execuction;PC Support
Date: Sun, 16 Dec 2001 23:10:11 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d



   <1st attachment, "memories.txt" begin>

   Memories by Laura Lynn Davis - non-fiction Copyright 2001



   I'm twenty-eight, divorced, and I like to write erotic stories.  I still
think of myself as heterosexual, which is kind of odd because I prefer
women and haven't slept with a man since Arthur and I split up.  Anyway, I
thought I'd write about a few of the real sexual encounters that I've
experienced over the years.  These experiences are reflected in some of my
stories.  Don't expect anything really sexy.

   Memory #1

   This happened during my senior year at North Catholic.  We lived right
on the bus line so road the city bus back and forth to school.  In the
afternoons I'd always wait a few minutes so the first rush of students
would be gone and I wouldn't have to fight for a seat.

   One afternoon in September I was standing at the bus stop when a little
white sports car stopped for the light.  The driver was a pretty blonde
girl who looked like she was about twenty.  She was wearing a tennis dress.
As I watched, she reached down into her bag and pulled out a bottle of
moisturizing lotion and squirted some onto her sleek, tanned thighs.  She
then proceeded to rub it in, pushing her short skirt as high as it would
go.

   I was staring, entranced by the sheer eroticism of her actions, when she
glanced at me and smiled.  "Care for a ride?"

   I shook my head.  She shrugged.  The light changed and she pulled away.
I often wonder what might have happened if I'd accepted her offer.  That
was the first time I felt attracted to another woman.

   Memory #2

   When I was a sophomore in college I had a roommate who was totally
average in every way.  She had brown hair, brown eyes, and a smooth olive
complexion.  She was so average that she wouldn't have stood out in a crowd
of three so she would have made a perfect spy.  Her name was Debbie and we
got along fairly well.

   One night I went to a party at a nearby frat house and got pretty drunk.
I managed to make I back to the dorm somehow.  I remember throwing up in
the bushes near the back entrance.  I made it up to room and Debbie took
one look at me and hustled me down to the showers.  She stripped my clothes
off and shoved me under a stream of cold water.  She kept me under the
water for what felt like hours but it was probably only five minutes or so.

   When she turned the water off she told me not to move.  I slid down into
a sitting position and she left to get a towel.  When she returned she
dried me off and hustled me back to our room.  I fell into bed, shivering,
and she covered me up.  I drifted off to sleep, or passed out, take your
pick, and the next thing I knew I was having a very erotic dream about
being masturbated.

   I opened my eyes and saw Debbie sitting on the edge of my bed.  The
covers were thrown back and her hand was between my legs.  It wasn't a
dream!  She masturbated me for several minutes and it was very pleasant.  I
didn't have an orgasm and I drifted off to sleep again feeling vaguely
disappointed.

   I woke up in the morning with a terrible hangover and vowed never to
drink again.  I thanked Debbie for taking care of me the night before and
she smiled, "What are roommates for?" Neither of us ever mentioned what had
happened later.  At the end of the semester a family crisis caused her to
transfer to a school closer to home and I never saw her again.

   Memory #3

   During the summer after my sophomore year I worked in a restaurant on
Cape Cod.  I met a guy named Eric who was working at a marina and we
started dating.  I really liked Eric but I made it clear from the beginning
that I wasn't interested in a long-term relationship.  He said he agreed
totally and everything was fine for the rest of the summer.  It was a great
summer, one of the best I've ever had.  We spent all of our free time
together and the sex was great.  Eric had this beautiful big cock that I
loved to suck.

   I left to go back to school at the end of August.  Eric asked for my
address but I refused.  I reminded him that we'd agreed it would just be a
summer thing with us.  He didn't take it well.  A month later he showed up
at school.  I don't know how he found me but he did.  To avoid a scene I
agreed to go for a ride and talk to him.

   We took a ride and wound up on a narrow dirt road just south of the main
campus.  We talked for about twenty minutes and I finally convinced him
that it was over.  Then he said, "How about one quick blow job for old
time's sake?"

   I agreed, remembering how nice it had been to have his cock in my mouth.
I pushed the passenger seat all the way back and eased down onto the floor
on my knees.  He slid over and unzipped his zipper.  His cock was hard and
ready and I licked it, trying not to seem too eager.  After a minute he
said, "How about taking your top off so I can see those cute tits of
yours?"

   I stopped and took my top off.  In those days, since I was just a 34b,
and barely a b-cup at that, I rarely wore a bra.  He fondled my tits for a
minute or so and then I took him in my mouth again and began to lick and
suck his cock.  A couple of minutes later he stopped me again.  "How about
stripping down completely?  I want to see you nude one last time."

   So I stripped my jeans and panties off after removing my socks and
running shoes.  When I was finished undressing he opened the car door. 
"Let's get out so we have some room." He got out and walked around to the
back of the car.  I followed, kind of excited to be outside nude.  He
leaned up against the trunk and pointed to the ground.  "On your knees."

   It had rained the night before and I found myself kneeling in a mud
puddle.  It was weirdly erotic.  I sucked his cock and he held my head when
he came, forcing me to swallow every drop of his cum.  Then he told me he'd
leave me there, naked, unless I begged for a ride back to the dorm.  It
should have made me mad but it didn't.  Instead, I felt excited.  I begged
him not to leave me there.  He made me get down on my belly and crawl
through the puddle.

   Finally, when he was satisfied that he'd humiliated me enough he let me
get up.  I put my clothes on and he drove me back to dorm.  I've haven't
seen him since but I'll never forget how he exposed my submissive side.

   Memory #4

   Shortly before I met Arthur, my future husband, I had a brief affair
with a coworker, a woman named Jill.  She was Chinese, from Taiwan, the
black-sheep daughter of a wealth businessman.  She was a grad student at BU
and worked part-time in our network support area.  I was a COBOL programmer
at the time but I was already taking Oracle classes.  I was twenty-three
and Jill was a year younger.

   Jill was a slender, cute tomboy with nice legs.  At the time, I was
feeling attracted to another woman in our office, a blonde in her late
twenties with long, very beautiful legs that she liked to show off in short
skirts.  One morning, as I was walking down the hall toward my cubical, I
saw the blonde up ahead.  She'd dropped a folder full of papers and was
crouched in the aisle, gathering them up.  Her skirt had ridden quite high,
showing off her long, sleek thighs.  It was late summer and she had a nice
tan so she wasn't wearing nylons.

   I slowed my pace so I could enjoy the view as long as possible.  I heard
a soft giggle and turned to see Jill behind me.  She smiled and winked
before turning into one of the side aisles.  Later that day I was at my
desk when Jill stopped by to invite me to have a drink with her after work.
When I asked what prompted the invitation she leaned close and whispered,
"Blonde's aren't the only ones with nice thighs."

   I met Jill at the bar across the street shortly after 4:30 that
afternoon.  By 5:30 we were in her apartment and I was watching her slip
her jeans off.  Her legs were world-class and she had the cutest, tightest
little butt.  By 6:00 I was naked, running my hands though her hair,
moaning with pleasure as her tongue explored my cunt.

   Our affair only lasted for two months but it was very intense.  In many
ways it was the best sex of my life.  In October Jill dumped me for the
blonde.  I left the company soon afterward and never saw either of them
again.

   The End

   <1st attachment end>

   <2nd attachment, "myexecution.txt" begin>

   My Execution by Laura Lynn Davis F/F legal execution

   This is my favorite fantasy, the one that excites me beyond any other,
the one that gives me nightmares.



   I'm at my desk, working on changes to a production system, when my boss
calls me into his office.  Two people in suits are there with him, an older
man and a fairly young woman.  They have the hard, slightly rumpled look
that I've seen on television and I know instantly that they're cops.

   The man speaks.  "Are you Laura Lynn Davis?"

   I nod.  "Yes, I am.  What's going on?"

   He ignores my question.  "Please turn around Ms.  Davis and put your
hands behind your back."

   I obey and the woman handcuffs me while the man reads the Miranda
warning.  I'm stunned when they inform me that I'm being arrested for
murder!  Multiple counts of murder!  I'm led out of the building and placed
into the back of a squad car.  Next stop is the county jail.  I'm finger
printed, photographed, and then I'm allowed my one phone call.  I call my
SO at work and tell her what's happened.  She promises to call a lawyer. 
By the time I hang up the phone I'm sobbing hysterically.

   Two female corrections officers escort me to a small room where I'm made
to strip under their watchful eyes.  One stands by the door, watching,
while the other slips her right hand into a latex glove and performs a full
body-cavity search.  She explores my mouth first and then I lean over a
metal table, my legs spread, while she probes my vagina and anus.  It is
the most humiliating experience of my life and I find myself sobbing like a
baby before it's over.

   I am handcuffed and led, still naked, down a short hall to a shower
room. Several male officers get a good look at me as they pass, adding to
my humiliation.  The handcuffs are removed and I shower with a harsh
shampoo that is supposed to kill lice.  Then I wash my body with a rough
cloth and a bar of institutional brown soap.  The corrections officers
stand and watch, chatting about mundane everyday topics.  It's unreal.

   After I'm dry, I'm given a denim jumpsuit, orange, and a pair of paper
slippers.  The jumpsuit is old and the denim has been softened by many
washings.  I'm given no underwear.  There is one more stop before I'm put
in a cell.  I'm given a small paper bag containing a toothbrush,
toothpaste, soap, and tampons.  I'm also given a washcloth and a towel,
both old and worn.  Then I'm escorted to my cell.

   I'm taken to court the next morning, wearing the orange jumpsuit.  My
hands are cuffed to a belt around my waist and I'm wearing leg irons.  I
haven't seen a lawyer and I haven't heard from or seen my SO.  In court,
I'm represented by a public defender.  Bail is denied and I am bound over
on three counts of felony murder in the first degree.  I am charged with
killing a drug dealer, his girl friend, and her sister in an
execution-style slaying.  A witness gave police a license plate number and
that led them to me.  The same witness later identified me as the woman
he'd seen doing the shooting.  Either it's a case of mistaken identity or
I'm being framed.

   Months pass.  I never hear from my SO.  The public defender does his
best but he cannot get me released on bail.  I go to trial in the fall. 
After just two days I'm convicted on all three counts.  A week later I
appear in court to be sentenced.  I stand and face the judge, a woman in
her early forties.  "Laura Lynn Davis, you have been convicted of three
counts of felony murder in the first degree.  It is the sentence of this
court that on or before the 10th of January, 200x, you be taken from a
place of confinement and hanged by the neck until you are dead.  This court
is adjourned."

   Under the new laws my sentence is automatically reviewed by the state
supreme court.  My appeal is denied and the sentence stands.  I will hang.
I spend my last weeks of life on death row in women's prison at Harper
Island.  The week before my execution I am informed that my execution will
be public.  I am also informed that I will be nude when I'm executed.

   On the night of January 9th I have my last meal - steak and eggs.  The
warden asks if I have any last requests.  I look her in the eye and say,
"Sex.  I'd like to have sex before I die."

   She shakes her head regretfully.  "I'm afraid that won't be possible."
Later that night, just before lights-out, two female corrections officers
come to escort me to the showers for my last shower.  When I come out of
the shower, one of them pushes me up against the wall.  I stand there with
my forehead resting on the wall while she fucks me with her baton.  It is
hard, brutal sex but I reach orgasm.  She leaves her baton in my cunt.  The
other guard spreads my buttocks and shoves her baton into my anus, ignoring
my anguished protests.  When I start to turn the first guard punches me in
the back, a kidney punch that drops me to my knees, moaning in agony.  I
lay there, unresisting, while they continue to rape me anally.  Later, in
my cell, I cry myself to sleep.

   At dawn on the 10th of January I am removed from my cell and driven to
the place of execution in a closed van.  The site of the execution is a
pier that juts out into the harbor.  I am stipped in the van and my wrists
are cuffed behind my back and leg irons are fastened to my ankles.  Two
female correction officers lift me down from the van and escort me to the
gallows.  It is bitterly cold.  My nipples are hard little pebbles and my
skin is covered with goose bumps.

   The gallows is construted on a low platform.  There will be no long
drop. I will die slowly.  When I'm in position a strap is placed around my
arms, just above my elbows, and drawn tight.  I whimper as the pain shoots
through my shoulders.  The noose is place around my neck and adjusted.  I
shake my head when they ask if I have any last words.

   I hear a click and the trap door slides out of the way.  I drop about
six inches and hang there, turning slowly, while I strangle to death.  When
I've turned 180 degress I see my SO watching.  She is smiling with
satisfaction and I suddenly realize who's responsible for the frame.  I try
to shout but it's too late.  I have no breath left.  My tongue is swelling
and my eyes are bulging out of my head.  My vision darkens and I attempt to
breathe for the last time.  Then it's over and I find myself hovering over
the gallows, looking down at my body.  It's a horrible sight bulging eyes,
swollen tongue thrusting out of my mouth, face blue, body slack.  Then
everything goes black and I am dead.

   The End.

   <2nd attachment end>

   <3rd attachment, "pcsupp.txt" begin>

   PC Support by Laura Lynn Davis F/F Bnd Copyright 2001, all rights
reserved



   After I graduated from college I went to work in the PC Support area of
a large financial services company.  I was twenty-two years old and one of
a half-dozen women working in the unit which had a total of fifteen
employees.  I was the youngest and I'm not bragging when I say I was
clearly the best looking woman in the group.  It's not that I'm
extraordinarily pretty, there just wasn't that much competition.

   I was also the only Asian in the group, male or female.  My name is
Grace Wu and I was born in Vietnam but raised in California.  My parents
were one of the many Chinese families to leave Vietnam in the late 1970s. I
was born in February 1978 and my parents left Vietnam in August.  We lived
in California for ten years before moving east to be closer to my father's
brother who was living in Boston at the time.

   My parents effectively disowned me when I was a senior in college.  My
father announced that he'd found a husband for me and was stunned when I
informed him that I wouldn't go thought with the marriage.  Nice Chinese
girls don't defy their fathers that way.  He was even more stunned when I
told him I wouldn't marry any man he found.  "However, if you find me a
nice Chinese girl..."

   Needless to say, my father didn't see the humor in it and I was packed
off back to school the next morning.  Actually, I had no interest in
finding a nice Chinese girl.  My tastes ran to Caucasian girls, tall
taut-bodied blondes with long sleek legs, to be more specific.  I stood 5'
5" barefoot and weighed 116 pounds.  I was a slender tomboy with short
black hair, big brown eyes, and a smooth amber complexion, but I was a
pretty tomboy with nice slim legs and a tight little butt that looked good
in tight pants.

   Anyway, after college I found the job I mentioned before and settled
down in a nice little apartment just a few miles from the office.  I liked
the work, liked the people, and, except for a terrible social scene, liked
the area.  Openly gay bars were few, those that catered to lesbians fewer
still.  By fall I was still living a mostly celibate existence and I was
getting cranky.  Mr.  Happy wasn't doing it for me emotionally and the cost
of batteries was astronomical!

   Then, in late September, I was crawling around under a desk on Friday
afternoon, checking the wiring, when I heard a female voice say, "If you're
going to get down on the floor like that you might want to wear pants or
jeans."

   I backed out from under the desk and looked around.  A blonde woman in
her midtwenties was sitting on a chair in the next cubicle.  She was
wearing a very short skirt that showed a lot of thigh, a lot of very nice
thigh.  She smiled and said, "Hi, I'm Stacy Hill.  That's my desk you're
under."

   "Oh, hi.  Grace Wu.  The help desk sent me to check your connectivity."
I shook Stacy's hand and then I went back under her desk to replace her
network cable.  I was very conscious of the fact that she was sitting there
watching.  When I finished replacing the cable she was able to connect to
the network and log in.  Problem solved.

   Stacy gave me a dazzling smile.  "Thanks!  I haven't been able to get a
thing done this morning."

   I was about to make a move when I noticed the wedding band on her left
hand.  I mumbled something appropriate and turned to go.  "Wait." I stopped
and turned toward her.  "Can I buy you a drink after work?  To thank you."

   I glanced pointedly at her left hand and said, "Thanks, but there's no
need.  I'm sure your husband will be expecting you at home."

   She grinned.  "I'm not married.  I just wear this for protection from
the wolves."

   "In that case, I'd love to have a drink." We discussed where and when
for a couple of moments and finally agreed to meet at a sports bar not far
from the office.  "See you at 5:30." I turned and left, practically
skipping down the aisle.

   The day passed quickly and at exactly 5:30 I walked in the bar and found
Stacy sitting at both in the back.  A couple of guys were hitting on her
but as I approached they glanced at me, shook their heads, and walked away.
Stacy got up and intercepted me before I reached the booth.  "Let's go, I
think I just wore out our welcome." She grabbed my arm and hurried me back
toward the door.

   When we were outside I asked her what she'd said to them.  She shrugged.
"I just told them that I didn't think you'd like me dating men." We
laughed. "Follow me, I know another bar that's not too far.  I'm driving
that blue Accord."

   So I followed her to another bar called Raven's.  It was a quiet little
place, not a gay bar, but Stacy told me that a lot of women, gay and
straight, preferred it because the owner enforced a strict code of
tolerance.  Anybody violating it was banned for life.

   I glanced at her as we walked to the door.  "Which group do you fit
into? Gay or straight?"

   She shrugged.  "I'm not sure.  Maybe you'll help me find out."

   We went inside and sat down at the bar.  After we ordered we chatted
about work while waiting for our drinks.  After they came our discussion
became more personal.  I told Stacy a little about my family and myself. 
And she told me about leaving her bridegroom at the altar because she
wasn't certain of her own sexuality.  She had just turned twenty-five and
had been at the company for just a year.  At one point, I put my hand on
her knee and made a face.  "What?"

   I smiled.  "I just hate the feel of nylon.  I much prefer smooth bare
skin."

   She glanced down at her lap.  "Would you like me to take my pantyhose
off?"

   I nodded.  "Oh, yes.  I'd like that a lot." As she slid off her stool I
leaned close and whispered, "Your panties, too."

   She glanced at me and blushed.  She walked away without a word and was
gone for a almost five minutes.  When she got back she slid onto her stool
and her skirt rode high on her sleek, bare thighs.  I put my hand on her
knee and squeezed gently.  "Very nice!  What took you so long?"

   She blushed again.  "I had to think about what you asked."

   "And?"

   She took a sip of her drink.  "I took them off."

   I was elated!  She *was* submissive.  "Good.  Give them to me."

   She glanced around.  "Here?  Now?"

   I nodded.  "Here.  Now.  Give them to me."

   She opened her purse and took her panties out, balling them up in her
hand.

   She passed them over and I held them in my hand for a moment.  They were
damp and I knew she'd been aroused before she took them off.  I handed them
back.  "Go back and stuff them up inside yourself."

   She stared at me wide-eyed for a moment.  Then she slid off her stool
and disappeared.  When she returned she glanced at me and blushed
furiously. "I've never done anything like this!" Her voice was low, barely
audible above the music.

   I stroked her smooth thigh, enjoying the soft warm feel of her skin
under my palm.  "When they're good and wet I'm going to take them out and
put them in your mouth."

   She shook her head and whispered, "No." But her voice lacked conviction
and I knew she wouldn't resist.  Not too much, anyway.  We continued to
talk, exchanging personal information mostly.

   After another drink I glanced at her.  "Are they good and wet?"

   She hesitated, then nodded.  "Yes.  They're soaked.  I can feel it."

   I stood up and threw some money on the bar.  "Let's go then."

   She followed me outside and we walked over to her car.  She stood there,
facing the car, her hands resting on the fender, while I lifted her skirt
from behind and eased my forefinger into her pussy.  I pulled her panties
out and they were soaked with pussy juice.  She refused to open her mouth
until I told her I'd spank her right there in the parking lot.  When she
opened up I pushed the panties into her mouth and watched her eyes widen in
surprise as she tasted herself for the first time.  She clamped her mouth
shut and nodded when I asked, "Taste good?"

   I had her follow me to my apartment.  I told her she could take the
panties out of her mouth as soon as we were on the road.  At my place, I
parked in my space and walked over to the visitor's parking area.  It was
just getting dark.  Stacy rolled her window down as I approached.  "I'm not
sure I want to do this."

   I leaned against the car and glanced down at her.  She tugged her skirt
down as much as she could.  "Don't want to do what?  Be submissive or be
with a woman?" Her black thong panties were lying on the passenger seat.

   "Either.  Both.  I'm just not sure." She glanced up at me with a
pleading look.  "Do you understand?"

   "Sure, I understand.  Go home, little girl." I turned and walked away
without looking back.

   "Wait, please!"

   I ignored her and continued walking, but I was smiling.  I heard her car
door open and close and then the sound of rapid footsteps.  I wiped the
smile off my face just before she grabbed my arm.  "Wait.  Give me another
chance.  Please."

   I glanced down at her hand and she released me and took a step back. 
"Another chance for what?"

   She dropped her eyes.  "Another chance to be ...  your ....  uh .... 
your friend."

   I shook my head.  "I don't want a friend.  I want a submissive
girlfriend.  A totally submissive slut."

   She stepped back as if I'd slapped her.  "Noooo."

   I shrugged.  "Then go home and be safe."

   I started to turn away but stopped when she said, "Wait.  Please." I
turned back.  "What do you want me to do?"

   I grinned.  "Beg."

   Her eyes widened and she began to shake her head.  But she didn't say
anything.

   "On your knees." I paused for a second.  "Naked."

   She glanced around.  We were about ten feet from the back door of my
building.  Most tenants didn't use it because it was too far from the
elevator.  I used it because running up the back stairs to the fourth floor
was good exercise.  It was fairly well lit but there wasn't anybody around.
"Here?"

   I nodded.  "Here.  You have ten seconds."

   She stared at me for a moment and then she kicked off her shoes and
began to unbutton her blouse.  It took longer than ten seconds for her to
be on her knees, naked, begging me to give her a chance.  I walked up to
her and stroked her hair.  "Good girl.  Get up and put your skirt and
blouse on."

   She obeyed and didn't hesitate when I told her to leave her blouse
unbuttoned.  She picked up her shoes and bra and carried them in one hand
as she followed me inside and up the stairs to the fourth floor.  She was
puffing slightly when she reached the landing on the fourth floor so I knew
I'd have to get her working out to get her into shape.  I waited for her
and when she stepped onto the landing I deliberately pushed her blouse
aside and fondled her firm, bare tits.  She was a good 34c and her pink,
perfect nipples were very sensitive.

   She closed her eyes and moaned as they hardened against the palms of my
hands.  She blushed as I handled her and whispered, "What if someone
comes?"

   I smiled and kissed her lightly on the lips.  "It's not your concern. 
You're mine now.  I'm responsible for your behavior, not you."

   She blushed as I lifted her tits, squeezing gently, to test their weight
and firmness.  "I feel like such a slut!"

   "You are a slut.  My slut." I turned and opened the fire door, holding
it for her.  She walked past me, her bare tits bouncing nicely with each
step.  We walked down the hall to my apartment and I made her strip
completely again before I let her inside.  I know she expected me to rape
her the moment the door was closed and locked so I confused her by treating
her like any other guest.  I showed her around and offered her a drink. 
She accepted a cup of tea, with milk and sugar.  I made two cups and we
settled down on the sofa.  It was a very normal scene if you discounted the
fact that she was nude.

   Her body was excellent.  She was carrying about ten extra pounds but I
knew I could work that off of her in short order.  She was on the
borderline between very pretty and beautiful.  The only think that held her
back was her slightly too-wide mouth and her slightly crooked nose.  But I
thought these gave her face character and made her more attractive than if
she'd been perfect.  She told me her nose had been broken in college,
during a basketball game.

   As our discussion continued she seemed to relax.  She sat back on the
sofa and began talking about how much she disliked her supervisor.  I
noticed that she was careful to keep her knees together, something else I
was determined to change.  Then she called her supervision a fucking bitch
and I saw an opportunity to test my control.  I stood up and said, "I don't
like hearing that language.  Come with me."

   She put her cup down and stood up.  "Why?  Where are we going?"

   I slapped her, a light slap but one that stunned her.  She held her hand
to her face as she followed me across the room.  "We're going to the
bathroom where I'm going to wash your mouth out with soap."

   "You've got to be kidding!"

   I turned and slapped her again.  "Be quiet.  You've got a lot to learn."
That was the moment where she could have rebelled and decided she wasn't
going to obey.  But when I turned and continued on to the bathroom s
followed, docile and silent.  I knew then that I had won.  I had her sit on
the toilet, straddling it, facing the wall, gripping the edge of the seat
with her strong thighs.  "Clasp your hands behind your back and don't let
go or I'll punish you severely."

   She obeyed and sat there staring at the wall in silence while I ran warm
water over a bar of Ivory soap.  When it was good and wet I grabbed her
ponytail with one hand and pulled her head back until she was staring
straight up at the ceiling.  I could see tears welling up in her eyes. 
"Open your mouth." She hesitated and I hissed, "Open it or I'll pinch your
nose and force you." She blinked a couple of times and then her mouth
opened, slowly, reluctantly, but it opened.  I pushed the bar of soap into
her mouth and moved it around, rubbing it against her teeth and tongue
while she gagged and spluttered.  Finally, I made her bite off a little
corner and chew it.  She obeyed and sat there with tears of humiliation
streaming down her cheeks.  Her hands were still tightly clasped behind her
back.  She was mine to command, to use, to abuse, as I saw fit.

   I made her wait five minutes before I gave her permission to rinse her
mouth.  I sat on the edge of the tub and watched her closely for the entire
time.  She sat quietly, staring at the wall and I saw from her expression
that she was totally cowed, all signs of rebellion gone.  To make sure,
after she rinsed her mouth, I said, "We might as well clean the other end
out too.  Get down on your knees while I fill the enema bag."

   I left her there on her knees while I went to the kitchen to fill the
enema bag.  I filled it with two quarts of warm water after putting in a
teaspoon of liquid hand soap.  When I returned I hung the bag from the
shower rod and rolled up the bath mat in case of an accident.  I had her
stretched out on her belly, feet toward the tub, and then draw her knees up
under her belly until her butt was raised at a convenient angle.  I admired
her firm, round buttocks for a long moment before I crouched and spread
them with one hand.  I heard her moan as I gazed at her tightly puckered
little anus.  It was a beige rosette, perfectly round and lovely to look
at.

   I dipped my finger in an open jar of petroleum jelly and spread some
over her anus.  She moaned and whispered, "God!  This is so embarrassing."
I ignored her.  I didn't have to lubricate her anus.  I could have just
dipped the nozzle in the petroleum jelly but this was more interesting,
more humiliating.  She whimpered as I pushed my finger into her rectum and
spread the petroleum jelly around the inside rim of her anus.

   Finally, I slipped the nozzle into her ass and released the clamps.  She
whimpered as the warm, soapy water flooded her rectum.  The bag was barely
half-empty when she whispered, "Please, stop it.  I can't take anymore." I
ignored her and the water continued to flow.  I reached under and rubbed
her swelling abdomen.  She groaned and whimpered until the bag was empty.

   I slipped the nozzle out of her ass after warning her to clench and
hold. She groaned but she obeyed.  I made her kneel up straight and hold
for five minutes while I fondled her big, firm tits and stroked her thighs.
I licked and sucked her nipples, purposely arousing her to distract her
from her discomfort.  When the full five minutes had passed I said, "Go and
sit on the toilet." She got up and hurried the four steps to the toilet,
hunched over, groaning.  She saw that I wasn't going to leave and she began
to cry.  She voided her bowels in an explosive rush, sobbing in total
humiliation.  I left her then and let her clean herself in private.

   I went into my bedroom and slipped my clothes off.  When she came out of
the bathroom she found me on the sofa, watching CNN, wearing a short silk
robe.  She walked into the living room with a hesitant look on her face.  I
patted the sofa cushion and she came and sat down next to me, curling her
legs up under her and letting her head rest on my shoulder.  "Are you
okay?"

   She nodded and whispered, "Yes, thank you."

   "Tell me your reaction to what's happened tonight."

   I heard her sigh gently and she didn't answer right away.  I didn't push
it.  She slipped her hand inside my robe and let it rest on my belly. 
"While things were happening I felt awful.  I was embarrassed and totally
humiliated.  I hated what you were doing while you were doing it." She
paused and took a deep breath.  "But now, looking back, thinking about it,
arouses me.  What arouses me even more is the thought of you doing it
again. And I get aroused by what you might do - spank me, fuck me..." She
paused and glanced at me with a frightened look.  "Sorry!  I forgot I'm not
supposed to use four-letter words."

   I turned my head and kissed her on the forehead.  "I'll let it go this
time, slut."

   She shivered.  "Thank you.  I've never been with a woman but the idea of
having sex with you, being forced to have sex with you, excites me."

   I chuckled.  "Are you wet?"

   She nodded, "Yes, very wet."

   "Show me."

   She hesitated for a moment and then dipped her left hand between her
legs.  When she withdrew it her middle finger glistened with cunt juice.  I
nodded.  "Clean it with your tongue."

   She lapped her cunt juice off her finger, clearly enjoying the act and
the taste.  When she was done her head returned to my shoulder and her left
hand found my belly again.  "I like it when you call me slut.  And other
names."

   I grinned.  "What names?"

   "Slave.  Whore.  Cunt.  Bitch.  Cocksucker." She giggled.  "I suppose
those days are over."

   I nodded.  "Yes, your cocksucking days are over.  You're a licker now."

   She began to rub my belly and I sighed with pleasure.  Then I sat up and
pushed her hand away before I lost control of the situation.  I made her
get down on her belly and lick my feet to demonstrate her complete
submission.  She clearly wanted to refuse but didn't dare to do so.  I
wished she had because I dearly wanted to spank her.  I wanted to make her
cry.  I wanted to hear her beg for mercy.

   It suddenly hit me.  I didn't need an excuse.  I grabbed her ponytail
and pulled her up and over my lap.  I spanked her until she was sobbing and
pleading for mercy.  The only reason I stopped was because my hand was
hurting.  Her ass was red and the tears were streaming down her face when I
sent her to kneel in the corner while she regained her composure.

   She stayed on her knees for almost ten minutes before she stopped crying
and rubbing her butt.  I made her come back on her belly, crawling, and she
had carpet burns on her knees afterward.  She licked my feet and asked what
she'd done wrong.  "Please, tell me.  I'll be a good girl but I need to
know what I did wrong."

   I nudged her with my foot.  "Get up her and stretch out on the sofa." I
positioned her on her belly with her head resting in my lap and I rubbed
her back gently while I explained that she hadn't done anything wrong.  "I
just wanted to hear you cry and beg for mercy."

   She lifted her head and stared at me in silence for a moment.  Then she
put her head down and lay there while I continued to rub her back.  Her
skin was soft and silky and I enjoyed touching her.  After a while she fell
asleep and I watched the news while continuing to rub her back and
buttocks. She slept for an hour and when she woke up she looked up and me
and whispered, "Please, I want sex."

   I took her to bed and made love to her with my fingers and tongue.  She
arched her back and screamed wordlessly as she came.  Her body was
marvelously responsive.  Just the touch of my tongue on the soft skin high
on the inside of her thigh made her whimper with pleasure.  I teased her to
the edge of orgasm several times, backing off each time until she was
sobbing in frustration, running her hands through my hair, frantically
begging me to let her come.  When I nipped her clit gently her body
trembled in a spasm of pure pleasure as an intense orgasm rocked her. 
Later, I tried something I'd heard but never believed.  Someone had told me
that a woman could reach orgasm by just having her tits fondled.  I never
did but Stacy did.  It took a while, about twenty minutes, but she finally
came just from having her tits fondled and her nipples licked and sucked.
She told me it wasn't as intense as a vaginal orgasm but it was still
pleasurable.

   At one a.m.  I patted her butt and suggested she go home.  She shook her
head sleepily.  "Don't want to go home!" She burrowed under the covers and
I let her be.  After all, neither of us had to get up and go to work in the
morning.  I hadn't been sleeping too well since moving into the apartment
but with Stacy there I slept like a baby.  I woke up once during the night.
Stacy was curled up next to me, her head on my pillow, her breath warm on
my neck, her left hand cupping my vulva.  Her middle finger was inside me.
I wiggled against her hand and then fell back to sleep.

   In the morning I woke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee.  I slipped
my robe on and stumbled into the kitchen.  Stacy was sitting at the kitchen
table reading the paper.  She was wearing the blouse she'd worn to work the
previous day.  She looked up and smiled.  "Can I get you a cup of coffee?"

   I sat down and groaned when I saw that it was only 7:30.  "Yes, please.
Why in God's name are you up this early?" Then an awful suspicion bloomed
in my mind.  "You're a morning person!"

   She grinned as she place a full cup down in front of me.  "Guilty as
charged.  You make it sound like it's on a par with being an axe murderer!"

   I shook my head.  "No, it's much worse!  At least axe murders are human.
That hasn't been proved about morning people." She giggled and I shook my
head.  "Remind me to beat you later." I sipped the coffee and found that it
was excellent.  I sighed with pleasure and set the cup down carefully.

   She was standing nearby.  I smiled up at her and said, "Coffee's
excellent!

   All your sins are forgiven.  Come here." She came and leaned against my
chair, her hip bumping my arm.  I slipped my hand under her shirt and
caressed her bare buttocks.  I took another sip of coffee while I fondled
her.  Then I glanced up and said, "I want you naked unless I tell you to
put something on." She nodded and immediately removed her shirt, tossing it
onto the counter behind her.

   I patted her bottom and said, "Go.  Sit.  Enjoy your coffee while it's
hot." She went and sat and sipped her coffee while we chatted.  Except for
her being naked we could have been any two roommates chatting over coffee.

   At one point I smiled at her over my cup and she said, "What?  Why are
you smiling at me like that?"

   I grinned.  "I was just smiling because you have such beautiful big
tits."

   She blushed.  "Do you really think they're beautiful?"

   I nodded.  "Them and you."

   She blushed.  "May I ask you a question?" I nodded and sipped my coffee.
"What happened to your pubic hair?  You're too smooth there to have shaved
or had it waxed."

   "Laser treatment.  It's expensive and painful but once you're done
you're done.  Forever." I let her think about it for a moment.  "I'd want
to have you done if you decide to accept me as your master."

   She frowned.  "I thought I did that last night?"

   I nodded.  "You did but I want to be fair and give you a chance to
reconsider in the cold light of day."

   She sipped her coffee and her eyes wandered around the room.  "That's
very fair of you." She put her cup down and slipped off her chair.  She
came to me on her belly and licked my feet.  After a moment she paused. 
"Is this answer enough?"

   I leaned forward and ruffled her hair, "Yes, it is.  Now go back and
finish your coffee.  It might be your last opportunity to sit on chair and
drink out of a cup." She scurried back to her chair and sat down.  We sat
and drank our coffee in silence for a few minutes; each of us content with
the way things had turned out.

   After we finished I took her back to bed and fucked her with a strap-on,
doggy-style, while she lay on her belly with her hands laced behind her
neck.  It was a very submissive position and she seemed to enjoy it.  She
obediently cleaned the dildo with her mouth afterward.  Then I stretched
out on the bed, keeping her on her belly in the same position.  "What do
you want out of this relationship, Stacy?"

   She didn't answer right away and I ran my finger down her spine and down
the crease between her buttocks.  She shivered.  "Ummm, that feels so good!
What I want is to be protected, taken care of, told what to do and when to
do it.  I want mind-boggling sex.  I want pain and humiliation.  I want to
be owned and used." She paused and I saw tears in her eyes.  "I want
someone to *care* about me." Her voice was barely audible.  "I want someone
to love me."

   I smiled.  I think I can handle all of that.

   The End



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