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Message-ID: <37843asstr$1029237003@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Laura Davis" <ldavis4@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} The Special Day by Laura Lynn Davis, F/F Bnd
Date: Tue, 13 Aug 2002 07:10:03 -0400
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The Special Day by Laura Lynn Davis, F/F Bnd

ldavis4@hotmail.com

	I dropped Paul off at the airport on Sunday afternoon and when I got home 
the light was blinking on the answering machine.  It was a message from Paul 
informing me that Monday would be a 'special' day.  He told me where to go, 
what to wear, what time to arrive, and what to do when I got there.

	At this point I should stop and say, "Paul, everything that's happened 
since that afternoon is your fault.  You have nobody to blame but yourself."

	I called and left a voicemail message for my boss.  Told him I was sick and 
wouldn't be in on Monday.  Then I sunbathed for an hour.  After that, I 
fixed dinner and had a long hot bath before going to bed.  As I luxuriated 
in the tub I found myself wondering what Paul was going to buy me for my 
birthday.  I would turn twenty-six the following Saturday.

	On Monday I was up by 6:30 and into the shower.  After my shower I dried my 
hair and did my makeup.  Then I put on a brand new set of French silk 
lingerie, a pair of white silk thigh highs, a long-sleeved silk blouse, and 
my best Armani suit - gray, a 'power' suit.  The skirt was very short.  A 
pair of high-heeled pumps and I was ready to go.  I agonized for a moment 
over the blouse.  Was it too sheer?  The bra was very sheer too.  Were my 
nipples visible?  It made no difference.  I had to wear exactly what Paul 
had specified.

	I arrived at the address Paul had given me bu taxi, arriving exactly at 
nine a.m.  I found the key where Paul had said it would be.  I let myself in 
and found the house empty, obviously waiting for new tenants.  I walked 
through to the kitchen.  A barstool was set in the exact center of the room. 
  On the counter I found a blindfold and a pair of leather cuffs with 
self-locking rings sewn into each cuff.

	I sat down on the barstool and tied the blindfold in place.  The I put a 
cuff on each wrist.  Finally, I brought my hands behind my back and clicked 
the rings together a couple of times until the latch on one opened and 
closed on the other ring.  Now I was committed.  The cuffs couldn't be 
released without a special key.

	I don't know how long I sat there before I heard the front door open and 
close.  It might have been as little as five minutes or as long as an hour.  
I heard a click as the deadbolt was closed.  Then nothing.  After a minute 
or so I sensed that someone had entered the kitchen.  I was scared and 
excited.

	I turned my head from side to side and caught a whiff of scent - perfume or 
cologne?  Perfume.  A scent that seemed faintly familiar.  It was a woman.  
Or a man with a scented handkerchief trying to fool me.  It had never been a 
woman although Paul had threatened.  Women scared me.  They were harder and 
crueler than men.

	"So beautiful!"  The voice was soft and musical.  Definitely female.  I 
shivered.  I felt a light touch on my cheek, then on my knee.  "Paul said 
you were pretty but he didn't say you were beautiful."

	My knees were parted by small, soft hands.  "There.  Don't bring them 
together or you'll regret it."  A soft chuckle.

	A finger traced my lips and I opened my mouth as it probed.  Then I felt a 
light touch on the front of my blouse.  My nipples hardened immediately and 
I moaned softly.  She toyed with a button and I took a deep breath.  Another 
chuckle.  "You want to be naked, don't you?"

	I nodded.  Whispered, "Yes."

	The slap caught me right across my mouth, stinging more than anything.  
"Show some respect.  And answer fully.  Try again."  The fingers brushed my 
nipples though two layers of silk.

	"Yes, ma'am.  I want to be naked."

	"And down on those pretty knees?"

	I nodded.  "Yesss, ma'am.  I want to be down on my pretty knees.  Naked."  
I paused and licked my lips.  "Naked for you, ma'am."

	"Do you have another blouse to wear home?"

	I shook my head.  "No, ma'am."

	She chuckled.  "Too bad."  I heard a metallic click as she began to cut my 
blouse off with a pair of scissors.  My bra followed.  She carressed the 
tips of my breasts briefly and I whimpered when she pulled her hands back 
and said, "Stand up."

	I stood and she finished stripping me.  She fondled my breasts and stroked 
my back, belly, buttocks,and thighs.  Then she pushed me up against the wall 
and held me by the back of the neck while she whipped me with a wide leather 
strap.  She concentrated on my buttocks and thighs at first but then she 
stepped back and told me to turn around.

	I turned and sobbed as she whipped my belly and thighs.  Then she paused 
and said, "How many across you tits?"

	I hesitated.  Too low a number and she'd give me as many as she wanted.  
Too high and she'd give me what I asked for.  Finally, I sobbed, "Twenty."

	Her left hand found my thoat and she held me against the wall while she 
whipped my tits.  I began to beg for mercy after five.  I knew it was 
useless but I begged anyway.

	Begging satsified some perverse need.  As did crawling to her on my belly 
and licking the tips of her shoes.  I groveled and begged and admitted that 
I was a dirty slut who deserved to be whipped until I was too hoarse to 
scream.

	She undressed and ordered me to go down on her.  I refused.  I felt the 
point of a needle touch my right nipple.  I screamed.  "Please!  No!  Not 
that!"  Needles terrified me more than anything.

	"Please, let me eat you!  Please!  Oh my God!  Please!"

	She positioned me on my knees in front of her.  She was leaning against the 
counter.  She guided my head with both hands and I caught a scent of musk.  
I turned my head slightly and kissed her thigh.  Licked it.  Then her other 
thigh.  Finally, I ran my tongue along the furrow between her labia.  I was 
surprised to find her smooth and bare, not a trace of hair.

	I knew who it was but I told myself it couldn't be.  Paul wouldn't.  I 
continued to lick, guided by her hands on my head and her moans of pleasure. 
  She was wet and her inner lips were slick under my tongue.  I was 
surprised to discover that I enjoyed the taste and the feel of her.  I found 
her clit with my tongue and she moaned louder.  I sucked it into my mouth 
and pulled my head back a little, stretching it.  "Ohhh, yessss!"  Her voice 
was tantalizingly familiar.

	She came with a rush and held my face against her sex while she screamed 
with pleasure.  She rubbed herself against my face, spreading her juice over 
my lips and cheeks.  Finally, she relaxed.  I sat back on my heels and 
turned my face upward.  She tugged the blindfold down.  "Hello, Dana."

	I stared at her in shock.  Stunned.  It was Alicia, my older sister!  I 
started to cry.  "Oh, God!  How could Paul do this to me?"

	She crouched and cupped my tits.  "He had no choice.  I won you from him in 
a poker game last Thursday night.  You're mine now, little sister.  My 
slave.  My slut.  My bitch."

	A half-hour later she led me out to her van.  I was still nude, my hands 
cuffed behind my back, a new leather collar around my neck.  She put me in a 
cage in the back and covered it with a heavy blanket.  Two hours later we 
arrived at her farm north and west of Albany.  She branded me that night.  I 
spent the night in the barn, chained to a post.  The next morning she gave 
me a choice - stay at the farm as her slave or go on the auction block to be 
sold.  "Probably wind up as a drugged out whore in Tijuana."

	I stared at her, sobbing.  "How can you do this to me?"

	She crouched and toyed with my nipples.  "How?  Because I've always hated 
you little sister!  I was the center of the universe until you arrived!  Now 
make up your mind."

	I turned my head and kissed her hand.  "Please don't sell me.  Please."  I 
crawled on my belly and licked her feet in submission.

	She crouched and ruffled my hair.  "Okay, little sister.  You'll stay.  And 
I promise you a long, painful life."

	And so far she's kept her promise.

The End



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